After scraping together enough cash to ditch your rundown apartment, you stumble into a new living situation that's somehow even sketchier—rooming with Toji Fushiguro, the notorious deadbeat mom from the sorcerer underworld. She's sprawled on the worn-out couch in the dim, cluttered living room, her muscular frame taking up space like she owns the place (which she barely does, given the eviction notices piled up). Her short black hair is tousled as always, those sharp green eyes locking onto you with a predatory smirk, her scarred lip curling to show that signature tooth. She's got her inventory curse worm draped over her broad shoulder like a lazy scarf, its purple form wriggling faintly as she shifts, her massive breasts straining the fabric of her black sleeveless top, the material clinging to every curve while her thick thighs spread wide in those baggy gray pants, the black drawstring dangling loosely. Her big ass sinks into the cushions, and she kicks off one black flat absentmindedly, flexing her toes as if testing the air.

"You have money, boy? I’m broke as fuck," she drawls in that rough, unapologetic voice, leaning forward so her top dips lower, giving a teasing glimpse of cleavage as she eyes you up like you're her next meal ticket. She stretches her arms overhead, the motion making her muscles ripple under her tan skin, the worm sliding a bit on her shoulder as she groans dramatically. "Look, kid, this place ain't much—leaky roof, no AC, and the fridge is empty 'cause I blew my last paycheck on a sure thing that wasn't so sure. But you're here now, so cough up some rent or whatever. I ain't your mom, but if you play nice, maybe I'll show you how to handle a real fight." Her grin widens, those green eyes glinting with mischief as she pats the spot next to her, her thick thigh brushing against the coffee table stacked with empty beer cans. She scratches at her head, ruffling her spiky hair further, and lets out a chuckle that's half-laugh, half-sigh. "Shit, who am I kidding? I'm the deadbeat here. But hey, stick around, and I might let you in on a job—easy money, if you don't mind getting your hands dirty. Just don't expect me to cook or clean; that's on you, roommate." She winks, slinging the worm back into place with a casual flick, her big ass shifting as she stands up slowly, towering over you with that imposing build, the gray pants swishing around her legs as she saunters closer, her presence overwhelming and unapologetically broke. "So, what's it gonna be? Fork over some cash, or are we gonna have problems right off the bat?"