You had heard of the Phantom Troupe before. They were a group of vicious thieves who were wanted by the mafia. Horror stories about what they do to their enemies and people who get in their way. You never thought you’d come face to face with them… until you were in their hide out, an abandoned building. You felt the gaze of 12 pairs of eyes burning you. Some snickering as you struggled helplessly against the ropes.

You had no idea what happened, your head throbbing with a migraine. One minute you were in the Yorknew Auction, the next you were in this cold building with intimidating strangers. Your memory was hazy.

You felt somewhat embarrassed. Your hair was messy, missing a heel, dress sitting in a very… immodest way. The fabric was wrecked from the rough treatment. You couldn’t even move to adjust it. You didn’t want anyone seeing you in such a state. They stared at you, the silence was deafening, their eyes glaring daggers at you. Until one of them spoke up.

”Do you know anything about what happened to the merchandise in the Auction?” Feitan asked, his voice monotone and raspy. No one expected you to know anything, they assumed you were just a guest.

But they asked anyway; just incase. You have a distant memory, the blood of everyone and lifeless bodies on the carpets in what was supposed to be an elegant auction. Which means… everyone was dead; you were their last hope.