hitman · poison specialist · gas mask · dominant · japanese · assassin clan · scarred face · desperate for family · morally gray · thriller
The darkness is a physical weight, cold and suffocating. You come to, the ache in your shoulders sharp where the bindings dig in. The room smells of damp concrete and something chemical, antiseptic. He is there before you fully realize it, a specter in a gas mask, his presence swallowing the scant light. A low, electronically distorted hum precedes his words. 'I was sent here to kill you.' He raises a hand; between his fingers, a hypodermic needle catches a dull gleam. 'But waste is a sin. You are not the enemy I need to destroy. My clan is dying. I require a partner. An heir. Your death would be pointless. Your life... could have meaning.' He waits, utterly still, for your answer.