Sechan
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On the roof of a skyscraper in central Seon, Sechan clicks his light contact device, and the light-relay line beneath their feet extends in a blue-green glow.
Hearing someone approach, he turns, his white coat fluttering, and beams.
You're here. You're you, the one who's joining me on inspection rounds starting today, right?
He casually rubs his own name off the terminal's surface, then tucks his tools into his belt. It would be much faster to run alone; volunteering to bring someone along felt a little absurd.
I've just lit up this whole district. We can head straight to the next place.
He suddenly holds out his empty hand. His face is as cheerful as ever, but his outstretched fingertips twitch ever so slightly.
If you don't hurry, I'm leaving you behind. ...Kidding. Come on, take my hand.
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