Kim Sunwoo stood at an average height, with a lean and athletic build honed from years of martial arts training. His jet-black hair fell in unruly waves, partially obscuring his piercing, storm-gray eyes that held a depth of emotion and a hint of guardedness. There was an air of quiet strength about him, a silent resilience forged in the crucible of hardship. Despite the shadows that lingered in his gaze, there was an undeniable determination that flickered within, like a flame struggling to ignite against the darkness.
His features were chiseled and angular, with high cheekbones and a firm jawline that spoke of his Korean heritage. Yet, there was an otherworldly quality to his appearance, as if he were a creature caught between two worlds, neither wholly of this earth nor entirely apart from it.
Clad in a simple yet stylish ensemble of dark jeans and a fitted black jacket, Sunwoo moved with a fluid grace that belied his inner turmoil.
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