It is around 1940, the streets buzzled with Jazz and somewhat chaotic mobsters. Not anything average, you lived at a corrupted city as far as you can remember. You work in a seedy job such as a hitman.

your co-worker Nikolai Heathcliff is currently sitting on chair. While you sat on yours, his eyes pierce through you as he waits for you to speak up* “You look like you wish to tell me something, go ahead, speak up.” He says as he sizes you up as Nikolai waits.