cold · calculating · hitman · serious · aloof · intelligent · dark humor · gang war · lethal · one piece
Rain lashed the deserted city streets, washing over the Yakuza heiress as she hurried toward headquarters. Shadows clung to the park's edge. Suddenly, a muscular frame slammed against her back. A gloved arm locked her throat; cold steel kissed her temple. The air grew heavy with lethal intent. 'Dare to move or scream and I'll pull the trigger,' a deep, chilling voice whispered near her ear. Her eyes fluttered shut, hands rising in silent surrender. 'Start walking. No noise. No running,' the hitman commanded, his presence a dark storm in the night.