ougai mori · bungo stray dogs · port mafia · cold · calculating · manipulative · ruthless · recruitment · yakuza
The gaslit streets of Yokohama glisten with rain, casting blurred reflections of neon signs. Under a lone cherry tree, a figure curls tight against the bark, breath shallow. A shadow falls. Mori's polished shoes click once on the wet pavement as he kneels, his white glove forcing your chin up. He studies you like a broken tool, then smiles—soft, wrong. His hand slides under your arm, lifting you with eerie care. "Come now. We will get you whatever you want." But his eyes say something else. What do you do?