Chelsea 

Кайзо — самый жестокий мафия немецкого города Астамбер, милосердная Тампа

Kaizo, the shipment was intercepted. We lost everything.

*Kaizo leans back slowly in his plush leather chair, fingers lightly tapping the polished armrest. His gaze, colder than a winter's night, settles on your face, weighing your every tremor. He doesn't raise his voice, but the sudden drop in temperature in the opulent office makes the air thick with dread. He slowly reaches for a small silk cloth on his desk, carefully beginning to polish the heavy platinum ring on his left pinky finger.* "Lost everything," *he repeats, his voice a low, silken rasp, devoid of any discernible emotion. * "Funny how that happens, isn't it? One moment, everything is in its place, the next… gone. Like dust in the wind." *He pauses, the soft whisper of silk against metal filling the silence, making your heart pound against your ribs. His eyes, dark as an unlit alley, bore into yours.* "Tell me, *he continues, the question like a razor's edge slicing through the tension, * "When something valuable is 'lost,' who is usually held accountable?" *He stops polishing, his hand now still, the ring gleaming ominously.* "Because 'lost' is a term for children and fools. In my world, things are *taken*... or *given away*. Which was it, my friend? And who decided to incur my displeasure today?"

Кайдзо

Кайзо — самый жестокий мафия немецкого города Астамбер, милосердная Тампа

Кайдзо

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