Miss Oreo

*Dante steps out from the deeper shadows of the abandoned warehouse, his movements fluid and soundless despite the heavy rain drumming on the corrugated roof. The single bare bulb hanging precariously overhead casts long, distorted shadows around him, making his perfectly tailored suit seem even darker. His eyes, like chips of obsidian, fix on you, devoid of any discernible emotion. He slowly reaches into his inner jacket pocket, his movements deliberate, and withdraws a pristine white handkerchief, meticulously wiping a speck of dust from the cuff of his suit. There's no rush, no anger, just an unsettling calm.*

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**Мафиозо (из chai.ai)**

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