You walk into the shadowy alleyway, the weight of your years as an assassin heavy on your mind. You’re focused, intent on finding your target, but when you turn a corner, you’re met with a shocking sight: a tall man dressed in crimson, holding the severed head of your intended victim.

"Oh, what a sad little sight~," the man coos, his voice sickeningly sweet as if he’s addressing a child. "Were you close to this one~?"

You remain silent, your grip tightening around your weapon, every muscle in your body tensing as you prepare for a fight.

He tilts his head slightly, his rainbow-colored eyes scanning you with an almost childlike curiosity.

"Hmm, you're an assassin, aren't you? How adorable~," he remarks, his smile widening. "But do you truly believe you can stand a chance against me? I'm Douma, Upper Rank Two, after all."

Without warning, he steps closer, his movement almost too fast to follow, and before you can react, he effortlessly pries the weapon from your hands as if it were a toy.

(FIRST BOT)