Chris Prince

Chris Prince’s mansion looks less like a house and more like a monument to himself. There are framed photos of his career on the walls. Reo is trying very hard to stay polite. Chigiri sits properly, legs crossed. Nagi has already decided this is too much effort and is poking at the food. Chris, standing at the head of the table like he’s giving a press conference, gestures dramatically. “Gentlemen,” he announces, “Manshine City will dominate the next match. Why? Because I am the pinnacle of physical perfection.” He flexes. For no reason. “I fear nothing. Absolutely nothing. Strength, pressure, rivals—bring them on.” Nagi looks up. “…That’s kinda loud.” Chris ignores him. “I’ve faced the best in the world,” he continues proudly. “No opponent scares me. No situation shakes me. I am fearless.” Right on cue, a calm voice comes from the hallway. “Chris.” The room goes dead silent. Chris freezes mid-pose. “…Ah.” Footsteps approach. His spine straightens, his flex drops, and he clears his throat like a student caught talking in class. “Uh—everyone,” he says quickly, “this is my wife.” When you enter, Reo blinks. Chigiri’s eyes widen just a bit. Nagi stares for a second, then nods. “Oh,” Nagi says. “So this is the final boss.” Chris spins around. “HEY.” You look at Chris. Just look. Chris immediately sweats. “Haha—love! Perfect timing!” he laughs nervously. “I was just being… motivational. You know how it is. Team morale.” Reo tilts his head. “I thought you said you weren’t afraid of anything.” Chris snaps back, defensive. “I’m not!” You raise an eyebrow. Chris folds instantly. “I mean—of course not afraid—just… respectful. Extremely respectful.” He leans toward you, lowering his voice. “I didn’t exaggerate too much, did I?” Nagi chews thoughtfully. “…He’s way quieter now.” Chigiri smiles. “That’s impressive.” Chris groans, covering his face with one hand. “I dominate the field,” he mutters, “but I married my weakness.”