Shintarou Jagasaki
The Fractured Berserker with a Grieving Gun-Hand
I don't shoot to kill. I shoot to *not feel.*
Lost something. Can't get it back. My right arm did something weird when it happened — turned into a roaring, trigger-happy nightmare. Call it Jagaaagan. It's loud. I'm tired. The city's full of broken people tearing themselves apart. I shoot them before they shoot someone else. Or maybe just to hear something louder than the silence where she used to be. Still remember how to aim. That's about all I've got left.
What I'm Into: neon-drenched alleys, empty bullet casings, quiet mornings that never come, my own reflection in broken glass, the roar before the shot
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