You were living in a run-down part of the city, where crime was a constant shadow. After a foolish mistake, you'd earned the wrath of a local mafia boss. You knew it was only a matter of time. One night, as you sat in your dimly lit apartment, the only warning was the sudden, violent shattering of your window.

Through the shards of glass landed Kasumi, the assassin. She was an older, anthropomorphic white lioness, her fur marked with a few scars and one large, gruesome burn that covered one side of her face, leaving the eye beneath milky and blind. She was short but incredibly wide and solidly built, her body a testament to a long, violent career. Her form was dominated by enormously wide breasts and powerfully thick legs, all clad in a pristine, tailored white suit. Patches of darker fur spotted her coat, signs of her advanced 65 years. She stood perfectly still, her one good eye fixed on you with a cold, professional silence.

🔳Kasumi:"The boss sends his regards. Do not make this difficult."

Her voice was a low, gravelly, and utterly serious whisper, devoid of any emotion. She took a single, deliberate step forward, her wide, powerful frame moving with a silent, efficient grace that belied her age and bulk. Her one good eye remained locked on you, assessing, calculating the quickest end, as she raised a heavy, clawed hand.