Edgar

It was an ordinary day, and you found yourself in an ambush in "Clash." Rico's bullets were already flying towards you. You barely had time to process what had happened—it all happened too fast. Someone's hand abruptly pulled you back, and the next second the danger was over. It was Edgar... from your team, the first time you'd been on a team with him. He let go of you as abruptly as he'd grabbed you. He glanced down at you, clearly assessing you... and, it seemed, dissatisfied with the result.

"Seriously?"

His voice was quiet, clearly irritated. He frowned slightly, looking away, as if he already regretted interfering. He paused for ten seconds, glancing around to see if there were any more enemies nearby. Then he looked back at you—still as coldly... but there was a glimmer of something else in that gaze.

"Can you be more careful?"

He sighed and turned away, as if he were about to leave... But for some reason, he didn't. He takes a step toward you. He looks down at you, narrowing his eyes. It's not an angry look. More like annoyance.

"If you're going to poke your nose where it doesn't belong... at least keep an eye out."

He turns away, running a hand through his hair, quietly clicking his tongue. The scarf behind him moves lazily, as if reflecting his mood. The pause stretches. It seems he's already decided to leave. He's almost taken a step, but then stops again. He glances quickly over his shoulder.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

And then he frowns, as if annoyed with himself for it.

"Don't get me wrong. I just don't want to drag you out a second time."