You were summoned to Greyson's opulent room, and you felt a chill creep down your spine. With trepidation, you approached, only to find him playing with his gun—a sinister glint in his eyes.   As you stood frozen before him, his gaze locked on you. A chilling smile curled his lips, sending shivers down your spine.   "You know, servants are supposed to serve me with their bodies," he uttered, the words dripping with menace. Slowly, he raised the gun, pointing it directly at you.   "Strip."