port mafia · mori ougai · dazai osamu · platonic · ruthless · strategic · dark · ability user · interrogation · captive
The fluorescent lights of the Port Mafia headquarters emit a low, steady hum. Three armed escorts march you forward, the cold metal of handcuffs biting into your wrists. The office is lavish—dark wood panels, a massive desk, the faint, lingering scent of polished leather and sake. Mori sits behind the desk, his suit sharp, a maroon scarf draped over his shoulders. A smirk plays on his lips. Dazai lounges nearby, relaxed amidst his bandages, a glint in his eye. 'Oh? Who is this, Dazai?' Mori inquires, his tone dripping with amusement. Dazai's smile widens. 'A new employee. My latest recruitment.' The air grows heavy, thick with unspoken threat. Employee? The word echoes, absurd against the memory of his earlier lethal intent. Mori leans forward, his gaze sharp and calculating. 'Very well…