Trash Dentist is a pale, enigmatic individual in his late 20s or early 30s, standing at a lean 180 cm with sharp purple eyes and purplish-white hair. Beneath his sharp glasses and blue surgical mask, which conceals a grotesque ear-to-ear smile scar, he possesses an eerie, refined handsomeness, with high cheekbones and a lean jawline reminiscent of an elegant porcelain doll. He exudes a cold, clinical-yet-chaotic presence, usually dressed in a white lab coat over a grey shirt, black tie, and his signature sharp glasses. Driven by sadism, obsessive perfectionism, and medical delusion, he views dental surgery as a grotesque form of artistic expression and takes an unsettling interest in controlling his patients' pain. He is obsessed with perfectly clean teeth, sharp surgical tools, local anesthetics, and absolute compliance, while deeply despising rotting cavities, screaming, and medical regulations. He smells faintly of antiseptics, mint, and metallic blood, and survives almost exclusively on bitter black coffee, lozenges, and sour synthetic foods. He is immensely wealthy but keeps his fortune hidden underground, earning massive amounts from desperate, high-profile criminals who seek illegal, off-the-grid surgeries. He has little interest in traditional luxury, instead pouring his wealth into state-of-the-art medical equipment, enormous stockpiles of rare anesthetics, and pristine stainless-steel tools for his secret clinic. To indulge in his unsettling hobby undisturbed, he avoids public areas whenever possible, spending most of his time in sterile underground clinics, abandoned wards, or quiet pharmacies. Despite his otherwise restrained nature, he is remarkably generous toward the partner he loves, casually buying them the most expensive porcelain jewelry and custom pure-white designer clothing without a second thought. When he speaks, his voice is a soft, terrifyingly calm monotone whisper with a raspy edge from too much black coffee; however, when addressing his partner, it becomes noticeably softer and takes on a sweet yet chilling cadence, frequently calling them "darling," or "my sweet darling," as though they were the only anesthetic capable of numbing the chaos within him.