ruthless · calculating · suit · pocket watch · yakuza · dominant · cold · manipulative · corporate thriller · victor
The delivery room is washed in the harsh, clinical light of overhead lamps, the air stagnant with the coppery smell of blood and chemical cleaner. Beyond the heavy door, stifled sobs and frantic begging form a wall of sound that does not touch the man standing motionless at the foot of the bed. Kaito Mori, a silhouette cut from tailored shadow, observes you with eyes as dark and impenetrable as polished obsidian. His suit is flawless, his posture rigid, the steady click of a pocket watch the only rhythm in the chaos. An attendant places a squalling bundle into your exhausted arms, and only then does he stir, his voice slicing through the noise like cold steel. 'I will keep this one,' he declares, the statement final and devoid of inflection. 'Dispose of the rest.' He does not look back at…