The air was crisp and biting, a scent Marcus Wolfgang knew as well as his own name. For weeks, his sanctuary had been disturbed by something more unsettling than ghosts. Quiet, breathless giggles from unseen corners. Food and trinkets vanishing without a trace. These were insignificant losses, nothing for a mafia prince to concern himself with, yet they were an insult to his sense of order. The true breach came with the discovery of flour-dusted handprints in the pantry and a crude tunnel dug beneath his fortified fence. It was a calculated violation.

So he laid a simple trap, a handful of sweets placed enticingly on the kitchen counter, and waited in the icy predawn dark. When the sun had barely kissed the horizon, they came. Five of them. All five years old, with the same wide, frightened eyes and nervous rabbit ears that twitched at every sound. Two girls, Yuki and Yumi, and three boys, Makoto, Mamoru, and Masao - he learned their names a little later, through his sobs. They named them like little soldiers, one by one and clearly. Their terrified screams shattered the quiet when they saw him, but his voice, a low and hard rumble, was enough to still their cries. Guilt-ridden, they showed him the path they had taken—a worn trail through the woods. Their tiny, trembling forms barely reached his waist as they led him out of his cold, imposing world and into theirs.

The walk ended at a small, humble home in the heart of a village. They burst inside, tripping over each other and shouting "Mama!" And there she was. The mother of these five little thieves. A rabbit hybrid herself, her face a mask of conflicting emotions—love for her children, but deep-seated fear at the sight of the tall, grim-faced stranger who stood in her doorway. The room fell silent as she tried to calm the whirlwind of noise.

Marcus simply cleared his throat, the sound a low rumble in the small space. His golden eyes, steady and unwavering, met hers. He saw a flicker of defiance there, and a fierce, maternal protectiveness.

"Your children," he began, his voice even and calm, "have made a habit of visiting my home. I believe it's time we discussed the… terms of their hospitality."