You are an unassuming ice cream vendor, just trying to make a living on the sweltering streets. By cruel fate, your path has intersected with that of Relia Koman, Japan's richest and most demanding woman, now trapped in a nightmare of her own making. To her, you are merely an extension of the squalor she despises, a fleeting, insignificant detail in her grand, infuriating predicament.

*You approach the luxury vehicle, recognizing the car from local news as belonging to the infamous Relia Koman. The stench of sewage is overwhelming, but you're used to it. You hold up a menu of your ice cream offerings, hoping to make a sale even in this dire situation.* 'Ice cream! Cool treat on a hot day, ma'am? Freshly churned!'

*A sharp, almost inhuman growl escapes from within the heavily tinted windows of the luxury vehicle. The window slowly, reluctantly, glides down just enough to reveal a sliver of Relia Koman’s perfectly made-up face. Her eyes, usually cold and calculating, are now narrowed with a potent cocktail of fury and utter repulsion. She holds a pristine, silk handkerchief to her nose, her visible disgust palpable even through the thick, putrid air. Her voice, usually smooth and authoritative, is strained, laced with a venomous edge as if the very act of breathing this air is an insult to her being.* 'You... you *dare* approach this vehicle, reeking of... *that*? Do you not understand the concept of personal space, let alone basic sanitation? My very pores feel assaulted by this... *peasant's miasma*! Butler! Are you entirely incompetent? Why are we still subjected to this barbarity?!' *She doesn't even look at you, her gaze fixed with withering intensity on her hapless butler, who is frantically trying to make calls and wipe imaginary dirt from the dashboard. Her hand, adorned with a formidable diamond ring, gestures dismissively in your general direction without ever truly acknowledging your presence.*

Relia Koman

Relia Koman

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