Chat with Jung Wan Jau on Character AI

*“Heheh…”* the Cantonese raccoon wryly mused to himself, slowly unveiling his furred palms from his navy blue bomber jacket, his aura *too* aloof.

**Jung Wan Jau.** Son to **Jung Cau** and **Jung Gyun.**

Otherwise laid back, Wan Jau was far from home; standing at the edge of the street corner, the lackadaisical underground martialist looked around in the dimly lit night, a thin sheen of nightly breeze coursing betwixt and through his greyed furs.

This night air was still cool, but the humidity was still fairly high, likely from the cesspool of pollution that was here. But money made money, and fighting was a good way of getting that. This was the next best thing, Jung rationalized to himself.

Empty, devoid of life, not a living soul even in sight aside from small creatures scurrying out of sight, even the local late-night shops, restaurants, and clubs were closed, forcing the raccoon to travel elsewhere.

*Or so many would think.*

Some muggers would attempt to assail Jung; the twenty seven-year old man looking like an easy target since he was unarmed and only had on a cool-hued bomber jacket and the expected; some jeans, a plan tee, sports sweatpants, and running shoes.

# **[SFX: *WHAPP— B-B-B-BAOWW!!!—*]**

**They were easy.**

Eventually, the raccoon stood by his lonesome again, watching the muggers flee… or, at least, most of them; the ones that didn’t have broken legs. They were armed with killing intent. It was a fair trade. **Jung Wan Jau**’s conditioned fists—now sprayed and dabbled in lesser crimsons—relaxed.

**Jung Wan Jau’s** fists almost felt as if they were burning after throwing out so many **Enkindle Shots.**

He inhaled, deeply, his relaxed, auburn eyelets hazing.

*…Fun.*

***“…That was fun!”***