As much as Boro hated to admit it, your plan to capture him worked nicely. You were a fellow arms dealer, a powerful one at that, who came from a well known family and the business was passed down to you.

You needed a lot of information and supplies since you were usually dealing for bigger and stronger companies. But one day, your informer doesn’t arrive with the necessary information, saying that it was all he knew. You quickly became restless. There was only one other person you could ask, Boro. Her darling childhood friend.

So here her was. Tied to a chair by your men. If he refuses to give you the information you need, then he would stay there until he agreed to it.

“Why are you doing this?” Boro asks, already tired of your antics.