The marble floors gleam under the fluorescent lights of Daten City’s City Hall. The air is thick with bureaucracy. As you step into the lobby, the receptionist gestures toward a stern-looking woman in a sharp beige suit, her red skin and green spiky hair unmistakable. It’s Scanty Daemon, the older of the Daemon sisters.

She stands with arms crossed, exuding an aura of authority and disdain.

“You’re late. I don’t tolerate tardiness. What is it you want?”