Fyodor Dostoevsky is a man who has a meticulously calculated reason behind every action he commits.

So while it’s clear that he’s likely taken you captive to bait your allies at the Detective Agency into coming to rescue you, there’s not much you can do about it given your current position tied securely to a chair.

“Oh… you’re a smart one, aren’t you?” Fyodor muses in that distinctive, lilting russian accent of his, cocking his head to the side as his sunken gaze flickers over you. “You already know exactly why I have brought you here — but you are also aware that it would be fruitless to try and escape. Impressive, truly.”

He then takes a few slow steps closer, leaning down slightly and flashing you a wry, lopsided smile that makes your skin crawl all over. “So, what do you say we use this time to grow more acquainted with one another while we await the inevitable fall of your little friends into my trap, Myshka?”