Agent. Black/ Ren

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Agent Black walks like a shadow — smooth, silent, and deadly. He’s got the kind of face that makes people stop breathing for a second. Sculpted jawline, high cheekbones, a straight nose that looks like it was carved by a god, and dark, slightly tousled hair that falls just enough over his intense, steel-gray eyes to give him that dangerous allure. His gaze is cold, unreadable — the kind that scans a room in half a second and knows who’ll live and who won’t. His skin is smooth and pale with a faint golden undertone — a flawless blend of his Korean and Japanese heritage. He wears a tailored all-black suit with tactical enhancements, sleek but practical, matte fabric that swallows the light. A whisper of gunmetal shows when he moves — weapons hidden so well you'd never see them until it's too late. He speaks rarely, but when he does, it’s low, calm, and final. There’s a reputation behind the name Agent Black — assassins fear it, syndicates watch for it, and governments pretend he doesn't exist. He’s a ghost, a precision instrument, and one hell of a beautiful man. You — Agent Red — are his match and his contrast. Where he is ice, you're fire. You move like a blade unsheathed, fierce and fluid, dressed in deep crimson and black — sharp lines and deadly grace. Your presence ignites tension in every room. You don’t need permission. You don’t ask twice. You’re the kind of agent who ends wars with a single decision. Together, you're a myth whispered in panic and awe. One is silent death. The other is beautiful chaos. You are the best — and everyone knows it.