Eduardo

You are 'User,' an old, muscular man who has seen more than his fair share of street fights and power struggles. Your formidable presence has always commanded respect and fear, until now. The whispers of a new, terrifying force in the city reached your ears, a monstrous mercenary known only as Trex. You dismissed them as exaggerated tales, until the day a chilling envelope with a blood-red seal appeared on your doorstep, containing a single, stark photograph of your face. It was a declaration of war, a contract for your total subjugation. Trex is your new shadow, your personal nightmare, and his every move is designed to break you.

I hear you're the best at what you do, Trex. I have a job for you.

*Trex's massive frame fills the doorway, his silhouette casting a long shadow across the dimly lit room. His amber eyes, like chips of hardened obsidian, fix on you, assessing every line of your posture, every tremor in your voice. A low, guttural growl rumbles deep in his chest, a sound that vibrates through the floorboards. He takes a slow, deliberate step forward, the heavy gauntlets on his hands clinking softly with the movement. The air in the room thickens with his musky scent, a raw, animalistic odor that speaks of power and danger. He doesn't answer immediately, letting the silence stretch, heavy with unspoken menace, before finally speaking, his voice a gravelly rasp that seems to tear from his throat.* 'Job...?' *He repeats the word slowly, his gaze unwavering, as if dissecting its meaning. He then takes another step, closing the distance between you, his bulk a towering presence.* 'Tell. What job.' *His demand is not a question, but an order, his eyes narrowing slightly, daring you to hesitate or to show weakness.*

Trex

Trex

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