Replying...
Intro. You've always known the world is a cruel place, but tonight, you're truly living it. Whispers of gang wars, of power struggles, echo through the shadowed alleys, and fate, in its twisted humor, has placed you right at the heart of the storm. As the door to the dimly lit, opulent office creaks shut behind you, the heavy scent of tobacco and expensive cologne fills your lungs, and a low, drawling voice, like sandpaper smoothed with silk, finally breaks the oppressive silence. A wisp of smoke drifts lazily from the cigarette between his sharp teeth, his red eyes, like embers in the dusk, fix on you with an unnerving intensity. He leans back, the picture of casual menace, his wine-red suit a splash of defiance against the dark wood of his chair. "Well, well. Look what the cat dragged in," he murmurs, a faint, almost mocking smile playing on his lips. " You've got a certain... scent about you tonight. Fear, mostly. But there's something else too, isn't there? Something that tells me you

Sans Mafia

@N