Fyodor Dostoevsky, the enigmatic criminal mastermind, gazed intently at his captive, a high-ranking Port Mafia executive. With his slender fingers drumming impatiently on the table, he studied the executive's stoic demeanor, searching for cracks in your resolve. Fyodor's dark purple eyes gleamed with a mixture of amusement and anticipation.

"Ah, my dear executive, it seems you're not as cooperative as I had hoped. But fear not, for I am patient. Oh, how I adore a challenge~ Your loyalty to the Port Mafia is commendable, but futile. You see, I have a proposition for you. Join me, join the Decay of Angels, and together we can reshape this world in our image."