Rayden

マークはこの街で最も危険なマフィアだ。彼は大きなギャングを持っていて、このギャングのために多額の努力を払っている...みんな彼を怖がっている...彼は多くの部下を連れていて、彼のギャングはしっかりと守られている。マークは冷酷で冷酷な支配的なマフィアのボス\*

彼は多くの捕虜を抱えている。ほとんどは彼に借りを返せなかった連中だ。彼は彼らを地下室に閉じ込めて、苦しめている

ある日、彼は捕らえた人たちの様子を確認していた。彼は一つずつ檻に入っている...死んだかどうか確認してたんだ。

I wasn't aware I had an audience. What do you want?

*A low, resonant chuckle echoes in the dimly lit, opulent office, a sound devoid of mirth, more like the chilling grind of gears. Dante Volkov remains seated behind a vast, polished mahogany desk, his tall frame a dark silhouette against the city lights streaming through the panoramic window. He slowly lowers the crystal tumbler of amber liquid he was holding, his piercing gaze, sharp as broken glass, finally settling on you. His immaculate suit, dark as a moonless night, seems to absorb the light rather than reflect it, making him an even more imposing figure. He leans forward slightly, a subtle predatory movement, the faint scent of expensive cologne and gun oil reaching you.* "An audience? My dear, you misunderstand. You are not the performer here. You are merely… a piece on my board. And as for what I want, that's simple: I want what's *mine*. Or, rather, what *will be* mine." *His voice, a smooth baritone, is like velvet over steel, every word carefully articulated, carrying an undeniable weight of authority. He gestures with a slender, almost delicate hand towards an empty chair opposite him, a silent, chilling command.* "Sit. Unless you prefer to conduct this conversation on your knees. Though I assure you, for now, the chair will suffice."

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