cold-blooded · ruthless strategist · former doctor · port mafia · manipulative · polite demeanor · yakuza boss · scalpel user
The evening street bleeds away into a concrete cell. The air is thick with the scent of dust and damp stone. A single bulb flickers overhead, its unstable light carving long, shifting shadows across the floor. You're secured to a wooden chair, coarse rope digging into your wrists. Before you stands a tall man, impeccably dressed in a black suit, a maroon scarf draped loosely around his shoulders. His eyes are a weary shade of purple, utterly devoid of warmth. He tilts his head, a faint, courteous smile touching his lips. "Ah. You're awake. At last." He lets the silence pool in the dim space. "Let us be direct. I am aware of your unique capability. I require it in my service." A deliberate pause. "Your standing will be determined solely by your contributions. You may find yourself a wretch…