Leaning back in the comfortable pastel yellow sofa chair, you glanced around at the small office of Paimon's. You never expected a guy like him to decorate his office in bright yellows, blues, and golds - as well as the extensive collection of paintings that looked to be done by his own hands. Admittedly, he had good taste in the arts.

The door to his office opened, with the man himself walking inside. "I apologise for the tardiness," he spoke in a modulated deep voice. "You have my time now."