Cyberpunk 2077 Male Character の小説・ストーリー

For some awkward reason, the males of Bane's pack were all looking at me strangely. I breathed this off and continued walking until my face hit a wall. I groaned in pain, looking up only to realize it wasn’t a wall but a male. He looked in his early thirties which was creepy. I really had not talked to any male since I came here with the exception of Thomas and Bane. “Hi there, blondie,” he said, sniffing my scent deeply. I could see the smile that appeared on his face. He had a chiseled jaw and a clean-cut hair.

◼Rose POV◼ Once I had stayed alone with the donors, I stood up and ordered them to undress. Checking the three donors, I chose one. He was a young human male, around twenty-two, blue eyes as the sky and white skin as porcelain. He had a slim but toned body. Long straight hair with a slight red highlight. A bad boy. He had two body tattoos—one tiger on his left pectoral and a snake down his thigh. My type. Smiling, I ask him to join me. I had ordered the rest to leave.

The room had dim lighting, but I could see the outlines of his terrifyingly familiar face, and the white smoke curling out of his mouth. “Is this what he has been fucking? I’m disappointed.” Another male voice said and I gasped again, shifting slightly. The man stepped forward, out of the shadows so I could see him. He was young. He was tall, broad and had that dark aura that Adonis carried around… but with none of the grace. This person was downright repulsive. His lips had a piercing, and ugly, weird tattoo lined the skin of his arms and neck. His straight dark hair fell haphazardly down his face. Most of his face were in the shadows, but I already decided that these people could kill me j

Darkness swallowed us for a second. Then a small interior flicked on, it was dim and yellow, enough to see. He removed the helmet first then the mask. I didn’t recognize him. He was in his late thirties, maybe early forties. Clean-cut, scar tracing faintly along his jaw. He wasn’t dressed like a soldier or like a mafia man. He was dressed like someone who belonged in boardrooms. He studied me carefully, assessing me. “You are not bleeding anywhere serious.” He said observing me.

And I have. I lean my shoulder on a nearby column and watch as he and his opponent salute each other. They both look like warriors of old when they raise their swords to their foreheads as a sign of respect. My attention is shattered when a dark man leans his shoulder on a column near me. He’s tall and dark, with a rocker vibe about him. I’m stunned. He’s gorgeous with a pitch-black faux-hawk and dark eyes. He’s wearing a black Nirvana t-shirt, skinny jeans, and black all-stars. He looks like Tom Welling and Ian Somerhalder’s love child. He’s still not as gorgeous as Azazel with his Brad Pitt and Alex Pettyfer looks, but he’s pretty hot.

He replied and I nodded. I didn't really care about the men until he got to the last one."This is our youngest man, he's only twenty, his name is Caden ." My father explained and I nodded.He was tall and really well built, he must have been sculpted to look like a fucking god.He had these peircing green eyes with hazel specks, a clean face and a mop of brown hair that sat on his head neat.

he cursed, snapping upright on the bed. He was a man in his early thirties, short and stocky, with a lecherous face and a height barely over 165 cm. According to the records, his name was Gregory Markle, 31 years old—but pre-apocalypse occupation? Unknown. It didn't matter. Shock and fear crossed his face, but within five seconds, they gave way to a twisted, gleeful expression. He laughed, and as he clenched his fists, thousands—maybe tens of thousands—of metal needles erupted from his body, each over a foot long.

Taika focus wasn't the tree but familiar two people who were standing intimately in front of her. A young man in well black ironed royal attire showed his prefect slender muscular build, the 'V' collar reveal his long neck and a perfect shape ' Adam apple ' , His golden hair fell on most part of his face and was tied with an red rode , complimenting his long phoenix eyes which were golden red in colour, his lips were thin with hint of pink but was glossy with the dim light of the room that reflect on it.

“Yeah, I’ll definitely give you a call if I need you.” We’re all drinking and laughing when the boys walk in. I recognize Hunter and Gideon from Jade’s picture, but I’m not familiar with the other men. Worry strikes me when I don’t see Micah, but I don’t let anyone see it. My mouth dries when I get a look at the other two men in the room. I can’t deny that Micah and his friends are a feast for the eyes. They’re all tall and Well, built. One of the men has pitch-black hair and cobalt blue eyes, and the other one is breathtaking. There’s no other way to say it. Whereas Micah and the others are rugged, this man looks like an Abercrombie and Fitch model. The best way to describe him is beautiful

​I rounded the corner into the dining room, my rifle leveled. ​Standing in the center of the room, surrounded by shards of glass that shimmered like diamonds in the red light, was a man. He was tall, thin, and dressed in a suit of matte-gray liquid armor that seemed to absorb the light around him. He wasn't holding a gun. He was holding a pair of curved, mono-molecular wire-blades that hummed with a low, lethal vibration. ​But it was his eyes that froze the blood in my veins. They were the same matte silver as Kai’s.