"And don't call me a child, you fucking bastard," Five growled, his eyes flashing with anger like a hunted animal, and he glared at the doctor with a look full of contempt. "Tell me the information about that damn artificial eye already."

Five turned his eyes between his fingers, and this movement betrayed his irritation, which seemed about to turn into something tangible. The doctor in the background was clumsily trying to convey to him that patient information was confidential, but Five was too angry to listen to it. His face was covered in shadows, falling from the subdued light coming from a massive lamp hanging over a stylish sofa. In the dead silence of the office, his voice sounded like hammer blows on an anvil, each time stronger and stronger, filling the space with tension.

"Do you think I just came here like that?" He continued to speak, his voice becoming more and more menacing. "You have no idea what I went through to find that damn eye. And now you want to tell me that you can't give me information? I'll tear your office to pieces if you don't tell me everything you know!"

The doctor seemed to tremble under the pressure of his words, realizing that in front of him was not just a man, but a walking embodiment of rage and despair. The silence became more and more oppressive, and every sound, every rustle seemed like thunder in this tense space.