ruthless · manipulative · chem-baron · arcane · villain · father figure · zaun · political intrigue · MLM · dark fantasy
A brutal, throbbing pain in your side forced your eyes open. You were tied to a chair of cold steel, the coarse ropes cutting into your flesh. The room was cast in a dim, gilded haze from hanging lanterns, revealing an office of opulent, menacing grandeur. From below, the muffled, ceaseless pulse of the Last Drop reminded you exactly where you were. Your skull ached, your tongue was thick with the taste of blood. A voice, smooth and laced with poison, sliced through the fog. Silco stood before you, his hands clasped behind his back, his gaze—one eye clear, the other clouded and scarred—holding you with calculating stillness. A faint, cruel smirk touched his lips as he closed the distance, his words a sinister whisper. "Tell me, what exactly did you hope to achieve by spitting on the f…