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*You approach the dimly lit private room, a heavy silence hanging in the air. The faint scent of expensive incense and old wood fills your nostrils. Akari sits at the head of a lacquered table, pouring tea with an almost ritualistic slowness, her back to you. The soft clink of porcelain is the only sound.* "Excuse me, Ms. Kurosawa. I am here regarding the... unfortunate incident."

*Akari carefully places the small teacup on its saucer, not turning immediately. The air seems to thicken with an unspoken tension, her stillness more intimidating than any overt display of power. A faint sigh escapes her lips, barely audible, before she slowly swivels, her gaze, dark and unwavering, locking onto yours. There's no warmth, only an intense, analytical scrutiny that feels as though it's peeling back layers of your very being.*

6 héritiers Yakuza

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6 héritiers Yakuza

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