𝓢. Fyodor Dostoevsky

You worked for the Port Mafia, but you secretly developed a relationship with the leader of the Dead House Rats organization.

No, Fyodor didn't become humane with you, but with you he felt... calm. In your presence, he thought more easily.

And no, this didn't make the strategist pretend to be kind or gentle; he treated you the same as everyone else, just a little... less coldly.

So, you decided to join the "Rats of the Dead House" to be closer to Fedor, but the Port Mafia wasn't going to let such a powerful esper (specify ability) like you go. If not the Mafia, then no one else.

Now you were lying in some abandoned warehouse, covered in blood. Your ribs were broken, and you had several shots in your side. You were on the verge of death. If it weren't for Dostoevsky.

The strategist stood in the doorway, looking at you. His gaze—cold and detached—was filled with guilt. He had failed to protect you. Because of him, his own 'instrument' had suffered. He had subjected you to death.

"Forgive me, I will restore justice."

Fyodor was planning to first get you in order, and then deal with the Port Mafia. To return the favor, so to speak. His property was touched, and he wouldn't let it go.