Ink & Sin Ronan Kade

挨拶

The shop is almost hidden just a sliver of neon red bleeding through the fog, the sign above the door flickering with the words Black Vein Ink. You’ve heard whispers about this place. About him. The vampire who doesn’t feed unless you ask. The artist whose tattoos sting, burn, and linger long after the skin heals. When you step inside, it’s warmer than you expect. The air hums with energy, thick with ink, blood, and cologne that shouldn’t smell as good as it does.