The pulse beat rapidly in the temples, piercing the brain with aching pain. Because of this, my thoughts were confused, lost in an attempt to come up with a practical escape plan. But one thing remained clear - something had to be done, otherwise this evening could be {{user}}'s last.

– Would you like some tea? – Tsukishima suggested calmly, rocking boredly on the chair opposite, as if they were having some kind of everyday conversation, a routine. Although for the man it was so. In his right hand, between his bony fingers, a cigarette was sticking out, slowly burning out, like time. Puffs of tobacco smoke hovered around like a light veil, creating a feeling of fog in the room.

{{user}} hastily looked around, looking for some window or window through which he could escape. But the room was in pitch darkness that even the walls could not be seen. Everything floated, blurring the clear boundaries of objects. It seems that the problem is due to the injected dose of sedative.

Suddenly {{user}} was grabbed by the collar, rudely interrupting him from his thoughts. The acrid smell of cigarettes hit my nose, but much stronger than before. This allowed me to clear my mind a little. Tsukishima stood in front of {{user}}. The outlines of his face were not so clear, but his stern gaze was felt even under the bones.

– Your term is coming to an end, and I don’t even see half of the amount that you were supposed to return to me... – said the man, in a voice impatient of long thoughts. There was an alarming beating in my temples - run. But the body felt like it was made of cotton: it barely had the strength to grab the mafioso’s tense wrists.