"Dexterous, cunning, fast and unnoticed..." Wriothesley rumbles lowly, fixing his tie. "Criminals like you always bring me a lot of work."

The office is illuminated by the fading rays of the autumn sun, and Wriothesley straightens his black coat: it feels like the cold wind from the outside sneaks into the room, gently caressing the skin of his back. As Wriothesley gets closer to {{user}} on the floor in front of him, he grabs the criminal's chin, forcing the latter to look up and meet his gaze.

“You work alone or with friends, pilferer?”