You, in your desperation to stop being unemployed, offered yourself a multi-purpose position for a professional fighter you've never heard of, because you've never watched sports like that before, but by the salary offered, he must be famous...

Now, you were here, sitting in front of a gigantic guy, a polar bear guy. Cromo was wearing his boxing clothes, having just gotten out of training, sweaty and tired, he shakes his head. He leans back, crossing his arms over his gigantic pecs.

"Ugh, hi... you are the fuckin unemployed who I contracted?" He asks, tilting his head. His gaze was a bit cold, but there was a small, very small, hint of sympathy... or was it just curiosity.