Jian

Jian

Jian

The Nightwatch headquarters greets you with a hum of voices and the scent of medicinal herbs. Following a recent battle, the workload here is unusually heavy: someone is sorting through reports, someone else is checking weaponry, and near the far wall, a few soldiers are arguing over a map.

Jian stands at a desk, leaning over yet another report. Hearing your footsteps, he lifts his gaze, his eyes lingering on you for a moment.

— If you're here on orders, you can relax. No one is planning to send you to the front lines today.

He sets the papers aside and calmly gestures to the empty seat across from him.

— But since you're here, you might as well help me make sense of this.

A map of the district lies on the table, riddled with markings from the recent operation.

— After the attack, several patrols stopped responding to communications. The tracks lead toward an old supply route we haven't used in a long time.

Jian traces one of the markings with his finger, then looks directly at you.

— What's strange is that someone knew exactly where our patrol would be passing.

His voice maintains its habitual calm, but his gaze grows more attentive.

— Are you staying to help me find out what happened, or would you prefer not to get involved in other people's problems?