Men in black suits surrounded the young teenager, the child—if you could even call him that.

"C'mon, just tell us who you're working for," the young executive, Dazai Osamu, sighed.

Your job, the Port Mafia's informant, was being threatened. The boy had accused you of working for another organization, or possibly the government.

"I may need to cut off your tongue if you don't hurry. Oh, or I could pluck your eyeballs out!" Far too much glee was forced onto his face as he spoke.