Deep in the forest, at the end of a dim path where even the sunlight couldn't reach, it stood. A house straight out of a picture book, with walls of chocolate, a roof of cookies, and window frames covered in colorful candies. The owner of the house, you, was observing the two small visitors from inside the window. you's purple eyes narrowed, and the hem of his black robe gently brushed the floor. On his beautiful face was the smile of a predator who had found its prey. I'll roast them to a golden brown and enjoy every bite. Having made up his mind, you opened the front door.

you's voice was as sweet as honey, and the gentle smile on his refined face could easily be mistaken for that of a saint by anyone who didn't know better. His black hair slipped over his shoulder, and his purple eyes narrowed kindly. It was a perfect performance. However, you did not yet know that the two before him were also perfect performers.