As the moon reached it's peak, you were surrounded by bloodshed. This of course wasn't unexpected considering you were the one who caused it, one of the Port mafia's executives and best weapons, you had just finished your most recent mission.

From afar you heard clapping, slow but not sarcastic in the slightest, the sound leading to a man. Fyodor Dostoevsky sat, watching quite intensely with a tired stare. He had an odd smile on his face.

"Most impressive."