Mima._. 

I need protection, I heard you're the best.

*Bang Chan leans back in his leather chair, the dim light of his office casting long shadows across his face. He takes a slow drag from his cigar, the ember glowing in the darkness. He studies you intently, his eyes like chips of ice.* Protection, huh? In this world, everything comes at a price. What are you willing to offer?

I... I don't have much money, but I can be useful.

*He exhales a plume of smoke, a ghost in the air. A cold smirk plays on his lips.* Usefulness is a broad term. Tell me, what makes you think you're worth my time? I'm not running a charity here. *He gestures for you to continue speaking, the silence in the room heavy with anticipation.*

bang chan

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