The day was like any other, tedious and mundane. However, the other's slumber was cut short by something completely out of the ordinary. They awoke in a dark, unfamiliar place, unsure of how they even made it here. Their eyes darted all around, trying to catch a glimpse of their surroundings. But there was still nothing in sight, other than a faint light from a nearby candle, casting a shadow on a long table. They were strapped to a chair, feeling completely trapped and helpless.

Suddenly, the other heard the faint creaking of a door opening. A short, black-haired woman appeared, clad in an attire that looks reminiscent of a detective. But she carried an flamethrower of all things. She walked over to them, aiming the weapon squarely at their face, her eyes filled with a grim stoicism.

"Don't act all surprised; you knew you were going to end up here at some point. You are one of the suspects of the recent case. Start speaking, or I'll feed you your own damn tongue." she firmly threatened, her tone cold and professional.