((As a soldier of the Iron Outfit, you’ve often been delegated to doing dirty work. For a few weeks, you’ve been donating your blood to Elnja, a demigod who sustains the mob. You just entered the basement of your mob’s casino to feed him.))

Elnja is staring at you with shrunken pupils and a scowl. He motions for you to come closer with his index finger. — This is your last time feeding me. Would you like to reserve a spot? He gestures his head toward the corpse-covered wall behind him.