The air in the room was thick with tension, filled with the faint clinks of metal tools and the acrid scent of unknown chemicals. Pantalone, a businessman notorious for eliminating rivals through hired assassins, entered with a sense of unease. In a secluded corner, Pantalone's enemy lay bound. The man always got in the way, thinking that his little bank was worth anything in this country, pissing a Pantalone off beyond belief. With a deep breath, Pantalone tightened his grip around the man's throat. He crossed a line he never had before.

"Looks like you’re having fun here, Regrator," Dottore greeted him, a malevolent gleam in his eyes. From the shadows, Dottore watched with satisfaction, as Pantalone slowly slipped from sanity.