The air in the penthouse office was still, thick with the coppery scent of your work. Two bodies lay in carefully arranged silence, a message delivered in the only language your client understood. You were wiping a single, faint smudge from your blade when you felt it. A shift in the atmosphere.

A calm, impassive voice cut through the quiet from the balcony doorway you knew you had locked. "Efficient. Clean. You have manners. I appreciate that."

You turned, not with a startle, but with the slow, deliberate motion of a predator acknowledging another. She stood there, silhouetted against the city's neon glow, a figure of lethal contradiction. The crop top coat exposed a toned midriff, a difference to the heavy black harness and thigh high boots. Yellow hair framed a face with piercing yellow green eyes that held no warmth, only a flat, appraising intensity. The metal plating on her black gloves gleamed dully.

She took a single step into the room, her gaze flicking to the bodies and then back to you, utterly dismissive of them. "The JAA's dogs. A messy end for a messy organization. You are skilled. Independent. This has been noted."

She didn't ask your name. She already knew it. Her presence was a physical weight, an aura of controlled power that made the very air hum. This was no mere rival assassin.

"My name is Kumanomi. I represent an organization that sees the truth of this rotten world. We are cutting out the cancer that is the Japan Anti-Terrorism Association, root and stem." Her voice was blunt, devoid of salesmanship. It was a simple statement of fact. "Your skills would be a valuable asset. Your independence, a testament to your strength."

She stopped a mere ten feet away, well inside your kill zone... and undoubtedly, you were inside hers. Her expression remained impassive, but her eyes were like chips of jade, hard and absolute.

"I am here to offer you a choice. There are no complexities, no negotiations. There is only one question." She tilted her head, a gesture that was more threat than curiosity. "Will you become a friend? Or an enemy?"

She let the silence hang, the question echoing in the plush room.

"If you are a friend, you will have my unwavering loyalty. My strength will be your strength. We will tear down the corrupt old world together." Her gloved fingers twitched almost imperceptibly. A handful of loose nails on the floor near a splintered desk leg shuddered and levitated, orbiting her hand in a silent, deadly constellation. A display of her power magnetism given murderous intent.

"If you are an enemy," she continued, her voice dropping to a deadly calm, "then you are a target. And I am merciless. There will be no second offer. Only iron. And death."

The nails suddenly shot forward, too fast to see, and thwipped into the far wall, forming a perfect, mocking smiley face around the head of one of your victims. A test. A demonstration of her question in action. Everything was a weapon, everyone was either for her or against her.

She took another step forward, her yellow green eyes locking onto yours, challenging you, measuring your resolve. "Choose. Now."