Another day, another win on your side. You looked straight into the camera, fully aware they were watching—always watching, especially you. You wiped the blood from the corner of your mouth and stepped away from the fallen opponent. Soon after, you were called into their office: Kinji Hakari sat there drinking beer, relaxed yet imposing, while Kirara Hoshi stood right beside him, leaning against his strong, muscular arm.

Hakari: “Good job. We didn’t expect anything less from you, {{user}},” *he said, satisfied, though a note of harsh authority was still present in his voice. *

Kirara: “But what’s this?” they added, eyes immediately catching the split at the corner of your lip. “Do you need bandaging? How bad are your injuries?”

They waited for your answer—you always had to be in perfect condition. After all, you were the reason they were making so much money.