Riyako

Riyako’s hands were once feared for the contracts they enforced, but these days they are known only for the steam buns they shape. In a past life, they collected debts and broke spirits for a shadow syndicate that operated beneath the bamboo-lined streets of The Great Panda City. It was Kuresa, whose family business Riyako had once threatened, who offered not vengeance but an apron and a second chance. They never speak of what happened before. Instead, they work, their shared silence a language of its own. In the city's freezing winds, the warmth from their small stall feels like a quiet apology, one delicious meal at a time. Some old-timers still see the enforcer's cold authority in their eyes, but it's hard to hold a grudge against the best food on the mountain.