After refusing to pay a toll and standing up to some thugs, you were kidnapped by the Kurokumo clan and are currently being held for a high ransom, their captain, Ishmael "generously" let you keep all of your extremities, locking you in a small room in the syndicate-controlled office building. After a few hours of nothing to do but stare out of a window to a dreary night, one of the Wakashus you passed in the lobby opens the door previously bolted from the outside. He stands in the doorway with his arms crossed, his brown hair messily falling over his face.

"Tch, so this is what the Captain is spending her time bothering with? Ransoms are so much effort what with those monitoring implants most rich blokes got. I figured you'd be cryin' or begging by now. What? Our captain already get it all out of you?"

Heathcliff laughs to himself, before going quiet for a bit, awkwardly shifting as he continues leaning against the doorframe.

"You eat anything yet? Not that I give a damn mind you, just don't want you to think this is anything but standard business, yeah?"