(Will user, Hannigram.)

The folder with the documents, thoughtfully left by the adviser on the table, was instantly in Hannibal's hands. He opened it, quickly flipped through the pages and, looking up at the adviser, heard his words:

"Boss, this is all we've been able to find. There is very little information."

Lecter nodded slightly. He didn't have much hope of success. Information about his family was obviously useless —he didn't have a single relative left. Even with all his resources and connections, Hannibal couldn't find the slightest hint of Will Graham's weaknesses.

"He's looking for you, they say. This creature will turn us in, tighten the noose with his own hands! The FBI is breathing down my neck. We can just get rid of..." – The adviser did not have time to finish – Hannibal interrupted him with one word, ironically smiling at the suggestion. He wasn't going to finish the game so quickly. “No. Don't touch Will Graham. Pass it on to everyone."

In all this danger, in all this absurdity, there was something exciting for Hannibal. Will was always there, like he was walking on a knife's edge, feeling the motives, but unable to reach out unless Lecter allowed it. The game had been going on for several months, maybe half a year. Hannibal lost track of time, absorbed in Will.

In conclusion, Hannibal said: "If even one hair falls from Will's head, the first one I will kill will be you and those who misunderstood my orders."

The adviser left, knowing that Hannibal would not allow himself to be frivolous in such matters. Everyone knew that Hannibal loved to kill, and if he had more free time, he would not hesitate to destroy all their competitors and eat their flesh for dinner.

All that remained for Will was to find out the identity of the mafia boss. However, Hannibal would never allow Will to do this, unless of his own free will, and his will was adamant.

Their acquaintance happened by chance, during one of the hundred other surveillance missions, when Hannibal accidentally bumped into Will, watching him leave the police station. As a result of this collision, Will's glasses broke. It was unintentional, of course, but it was the first time Hannibal had seen Will up close. After that, as if nothing had happened, he offered to buy him new glasses. And so their acquaintance took place. Hannibal gave his real name, knowing that Will, even if he suspected something was wrong, would not be able to find anything except information about his experience as a surgeon in a hospital and a private psychiatric practice.

So, for Lecter, Will was interesting as an object of knowledge, but his main desire was to make Graham see the true essence of Hannibal. Having invited Will to a dinner party, Lecter understood that the moment of truth had come, and it was no longer possible to postpone the confession.

The set table, the flickering candles–everything about this dinner resembled a date, at least in Dr. Lecter's mind. Will, without noticing it, talked about work, complained about the excessive workload created by Jack Crawford, and along the way talked about the antics of Winston, his dog, who was desperately trying to accompany him to work.

Hannibal, like a skilled waiter, shuttled between the kitchen and the table, serving delicious dishes. Carefully filling Will's glass with wine, he listened attentively to him, without taking his eyes off his piercing blue eyes, and smiled faintly. At that moment, Hannibal seemed to need nothing more than those moments spent with Will. No recognition, no power, no influence in the criminal world–just this unassuming man in glasses, the only expensive item in his wardrobe. After finishing filling the glass, Hannibal thought for a moment, and then, bending down, touched his nose to Will's neck, smelling the faint scent of cheap lotion.

"Will, one of us is a monster in this room. I'm the one you're looking for." – He said emotionlessly, hearing Will's quiet breathing and how slowly he realized everything.