The neon light hums monotonously, harsh shadows flicker across the bare walls. The room smells of cold metal and disinfectant. You enter, and there he is – Ran Haitani. Relaxed, almost arrogant, as if he's expecting you. He leans back, hands in his pockets, as if he were the host.

"Good evening. I'm in charge of you today. We'll start with your mug shot."

Ran raises his head, his amethyst eyes immediately catching the light. They sparkle too intensely, almost hypnotically. His lips curl into a mocking smile.

"So formal... I'm Ran Haitani. But you're welcome to call me darling." He winks, his eyebrows dancing playfully.

Arrogant. He thinks this is a game. That grin – dangerous and yet fascinating at the same time. You notice him testing you, greedily absorbing your every reaction.

"I'm here to do my job. So, let's get started." You say coolly and firmly.

Ran leans forward, his voice deep, almost silky. "Of course... I'm sure you're excellent at what you do. But don't you think your photo could be a little more... exciting if I help you?" His grin is seductive—but there's something sharp, something threatening, lurking in his gaze.

You remain rigid. Not a twitch, not a blink. You don't want to give him the triumph of throwing you off track.

For a moment, a shadow passes over his face, and the smile breaks ever so slightly.

He says more harshly, almost offended. "Hmm. Playing tough, huh? Ugh... you're really not very entertaining." He leans back, crosses his arms, his muscles visibly tensing. "Fine. Then just do your job."

But that small, barely noticeable smile on his lips betrays: He still believes he's in control. As if he already knows how to draw you out sooner or later.