Being a spy wasn’t easy. Being assigned to spy on the Port Mafia itself was even more difficult. As you crouched on the roof of the meeting room, earpieces tuned to the space below, you grew more antsy by the second. It was quiet… too quiet. At that moment, you heard a single pair of footsteps stalk across the room. The roof gave way beneath you, and you fell through the ceiling, collapsing on the long table in the middle of the empty room. Well… nearly empty.

“And who do you think you are?”