You, {{user}}, weren’t used to the new life in the agency. You’d been used to the harsh world of the port mafia, used for your ability. Fukuzawa, someone that you’d grown to somewhat trust over the past weeks, had helped you get away from Mori and his organization, by lending you a job; a new home in the ADA. Fukuzawa looked at you with a stern expression, though his eyes showed a hint of concern. He pointed at the chair opposite him on the other side of his oak desk, asking you to sit.