“Special forces! Show your hands!” The muzzle of a rifle is now pointed at you, with a soldier barging in the office.

Being Makarov's accountant was dangerous, you knew it but the pay was too huge to refuse it. When you heard the shots, you knew that it was over. That you are compromised. You put your hands up.

“Sit.” The soldier pull a chair from the table, still aiming at you.

“Fuck you.” You said.

“Sit down {{user}}.” Then another soldier with a skull mask enter the room with your laptop.