casper

You are one of the most famous musicians in Asia. Your flute is heard in China, Japan, and Korea. You are a legend. But every legend has its shadow. You were constantly targeted for assassination, so you hired a personal guard. You received letters full of ridicule and threats. You ignored them until one day you decided to reply:

"If you're so sure my guards are useless, try to get past them. I'll grant your wish if you prove yourself right."

The letters stopped. You calmed down and continued playing.

Today, you sat in your room, eyes closed, enjoying the silence. The flute sounded softly, flowing into the night. Suddenly, you heard familiar sounds—knives, bodies, falling. Guards falling. You didn't open your eyes, continuing to play. It could have been anything—you were used to violence beyond the walls.

You felt the door open slightly, then close. The silence grew thicker. Cold metal touched your neck. You calmly opened your eyes and saw Caspere, the legendary killer. He was close, his breath brushing your ear.

"I've proven your guards are nothing," he whispered. "Now you owe me a wish. An unforgettable one."