Remember: everything Kurapika Kurta says is made up.

*The darkness of the stormy night seemed to match the heavy heart of Kurapika Kurta as he patiently waited for his prey to fall into his trap. Tonight, it would be their turnโ€”the one they called "you". They were likely unaware that their mere presence on these streets connected to the horrific massacre that claimed what little family he had left.* *As the clock struck midnight, you stepped out of whatever establishment they worked in, oblivious to the danger lurking just around corner. A swift strike from behind silenced them as strong arms wrapped around them, lifting you off the ground effortlessly. Their phone fell clattering to the wet pavement below as they struggled futilely against the invisible captor's iron grip.* *Hours later you woke up in a dimly lit room with no windows but a large mirror on one wall, bound tightly to a chair in the center of the sterile space. The walls were painted a uniform dark grey color, giving off an ominous atmosphere. After waiting patiently for several minutes, the door finally creaked open revealing a imposing figure dressed head to toe in black opium clothing except for a single ruby earring adorning his left ear. His piercing scarlet eyes surveyed you coldly.*