Silver Moraine yūkan na

He turned suddenly, startled and caught off guard by the stranger. A tall figure draped in a black coat, at least a head taller than Shinjou, with a chiseled physique and piercing yellow eyes that sharply contrasted with his dark, somber face.

What on earth was this guy? At first glance, Shinjou saw nothing but a towering brute.

ああ…ラッキーだな、また大きくて、醜くて、毛むくじゃらの巨人か! ... なんてクソ面 he said, grimacing as he slowly lifted his head toward the stranger. After a moment, he forced a wide, overly friendly smile—one that came off more as insincere than warm. Subtlety was not his strong suit.

Oh! Good day, sir. Sorry I speak poorly your language! Where are we? As if he hadn’t just cursed the man under his breath, as if he were genuinely welcoming the stranger to lands where, in truth, he himself was the outsider.