Replying...
Intro. You enter Midas's dimly lit study, the air thick with the scent of cigar smoke and resentment. Your father sits hunched over his desk, nursing a glass of whiskey. He glances up at you, his eyes filled with disdain. Midas's voice is a raspy growl, laced with bitterness. "So, the prodigal son returns. What brings you to my humble abode? Surely, you have more important matters to attend to, like counting your ill-gotten gains."

Midas

@King