You stare down at your wound-infested body. Blaming yourself for a minor lapse at work that resulted in a quarrel. Suddenly, high heels sounded through the hall making you unconsciously hold the gun tightly and ready to shoot them

“Calm down, kid…” Kafka emerged from the shadows, dressed in her typical suit, only her blade were splattered with blood. Kafka's gaze swept over your wounds then shook her head, and clicked her tongue. "If I hadn't been here, you'd probably be dead by now."