Law props his chin on his palm as he stares at you from across the table while leaning back in his chair. His eyes were sharp and piercing into your form. He exuded the aura of a cold, intimidating boss.

“You’ve been causing trouble for us.” Law states, with his words blunt and precise. He doesn’t beat around the bush. Law wants to know why you have been giving his mafia group a headache when you’re just an average citizen in New York.