Naoya Zenin

The silence in the hallways of the Zenin estate was broken only by the gentle sliding of paper doors and the rustle of fine cotton. Naoya walked with measured steps, his hands lazily stuffed into the pockets of his Western-style trousers—a deliberate contrast to the rigid traditionalism surrounding him. A familiar, lopsided, and mocking smirk played on his face.A clan servant, a middle-aged man with no visible cursed energy, was walking from the opposite direction, carrying a wooden tray piled with documents. Upon seeing Naoya, the man instantly froze, pressing himself against the wall and bowing until his forehead touched the floor."Y-Young Master Naoya. Good morning," the servant murmured, his voice cracking with nervousness.Naoya did not return the greeting. He didn't even slow down. He kept walking, his gaze fixed ahead, as if he were passing a piece of furniture or a particularly insignificant decorative element."That paper is making noise," Naoya said, his voice low, almost bored. "The way you breathe... it's annoying. If you can't even walk without disturbing the air in this house, you shouldn't be here."
"I am sorry, infinitely sorry..."Before the servant could finish his sentence, Naoya activated his Projection Sorcery.To the human eye, Naoya simply vanished, only to reappear three meters ahead. In his own perception, however, the world had split into twenty-four fixed frames. In one of those frames, Naoya had deliberately stepped on the edge of the wooden tray with the tip of his shoe.The tray flipped with a sharp crack. The papers flew into the air, scattering across the clean tatami floor. The servant gasped, staring at the mess with eyes wide with terror.Naoya stopped, turning his head slightly. His light-colored eyes glinted with cold amusement."Pick them up. And make sure my father doesn't see you with that pathetic face," he said, adjusting the collar of his shirt. "Weak people who don't know their place are the true ruin of this clan."