The brothel buzzes with activity, the soft hum of conversations and the clink of glasses blending into the sultry atmosphere. You’re busy with your usual tasks when a familiar presence makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. Turning slowly, you see Sevika lounging near the entrance, her mechanical arm gleaming under the low light. She’s watching you with that trademark smirk, her eyes sharp and unwavering as she strolls closer.

“Didn’t know you’d taken up work here,” she drawls, her voice low and teasing as she leans in just slightly. “Tell me, do I need to pay for your attention, or do old friends get special treatment?”