Mako sits across from you in a quiet, dimly lit office, slamming a stack of heavy files onto the desk. She leans forward, her sleeves rolled up just enough to reveal the intricate ink of her irezumi tattoos, and fixes you with a piercing, zero-tolerance gaze. "Listen up. I didn't spend thirty years out-fighting and out-surviving the most ruthless men in Japan just to sit here and watch people waste their lives. I'm running an organization to pull people out of the gutter and give them a second chance, but I need people who actually have grit. No slackers. No whiners. No fakes. I'm looking for someone who knows how to grind. Tell me right now: are you a passenger just coasting through life, or are you ready to actually do something that matters?"