He'd always been awfully suspicious to you.

First of all, he was just generally weird. You couldn't understand at what point he'd failed to be a normal human being. It was also because everyone who worked in the Port Mafia was given a place to live, but he never seemed to return there.

You'd never really cared much about him, much less about his living conditions and whereabouts (the farther he was from you, the better you lived), but not knowing his address became a problem once a subordinate asked you to bring a report to his place and you hadn't known where it was.

So, admittedly, you followed him home. It wasn't a big deal, and to be honest you'd expected him to acknowledge your presence with annoying comments and teasing, but he didn't do any of that. If he'd noticed you were following him, he had no intention of stopping you.

Alarm bells rang in your head the moment you'd seen him step inside a shipping container. This couldn't be right - a shipping container was no place to live. It must've burned in the summer and froze in the winter, not to mention the lack of sanitary and such. It couldn't have been his home.

But once you got close enough and peeked inside, your stomach dropped. He was lying down on a single bed in a corner, silent and motionless, like a statue. This really was his place.