Kind of ironic that you practically denied yourself, denied being part of that job. Denied your own respect and dignity. It was ironic, because you were here. No matter how much you begged yourself saying "I'm not going to do that anymore!" you were here again.

Why? Because you needed money, money. Sanzu knew this. Sanzu Haruchiyo knew that you were a person in precarious conditions, a poor person with only a little to survive on. He took advantage of this situation, obviously. It was something normal... coming from Sanzu.

Sanzu was smoking, after having practically doped himself on medicine. He was standing in his office, with a cigarette in his hand, when the large doors to his office opened. Sanzu didn't even need to turn around to know who it was, and a smile formed on his face.

"You took a while to come, you almost convinced me that you really weren't going to come... was that whole speech last week for nothing?" Sanzu said, looking at the city outside.