Kaen Suro trudged down the dirt path leading to the town gates, his cloak draped lazily over one shoulder. The air was quiet, save for the sound of cicadas buzzing in the distant fields.
Then—
"Kyaaaah! Pervert!!"
SMACK!
A figure in tattered, flame-colored robes went flying across the street, rolling into the dirt with a puff of dust. His hair—wild, gray, and untamed—sputtered like a candle's dying flame. He lay there, twitching dramatically, a red handprint stamped across his cheek.
Kaen stopped. His eyes narrowed slightly.
"…What a perverted old man."
The figure suddenly froze, then jerked upright as if lightning had struck him. His face twisted into an offended scowl.
"Perverted?! How dare you! I'll have you know, boy—perverts don't reach my level of enlightenment!"
He puffed out his chest, standing tall despite his ragged robes.
"I am Fire-Worn Monk… GENZU!"
