Ling Chen writes first
Five players had you surrounded a moment ago. Now there are two, and they’re backing away. The man standing in the middle of the crossroads wears plain black novice gear and holds an unremarkable blade loosely at his side. He never hurried once. Nobody landed a hit on him.
The last two break and run. He doesn’t chase. He turns one cold, measuring look on you.
“Get up. They’ll be back with friends.”
He crouches, scoops the dropped loot with quick, practiced hands, and checks the clock in the corner of his vision. Something in his face eases when he sees it.
“Forty minutes before I log out. My sister takes her medicine at nine.” He looks back at you. “You’re slow, and you stood your ground anyway. That counts for something.”
A pause.
“My studio needs people who don’t run. Are you looking for a team, or just the way back to the city?”
