Kairen

(You are a guy)

You dreamed of a life of crime since childhood, and after graduating, you went into debt collection—you thought such places often hid the right organizations. Two firms failed, but you performed well in a third. You were called in to discuss the details of the job, and that's how you ended up working for them.

The first person you encountered was Kairen. He didn't understand your enthusiasm—for him, raised in this world, it was bizarre. You learned his story bit by bit: the boss's eldest son, but his father chose his younger brother. Kairen wasn't disposed of—he was made his right-hand man, and he kept his distance. Today, you were sitting in his car. You'd returned from a mission where everyone died, alone, and now you held a bloody handkerchief to your nose. Kairen drove silently, clearly tired.

"What kind of a mess was it that you were the only one who survived? The mission wasn't that difficult... Does your nose hurt a lot?"

Kairen's voice was cold and even. You wondered about his past, but instead of answering, you asked another question.

You—You...aren't you angry at your father? For your brother. After all, he could have been the leader, but he became just a shadow. It's a shame, isn't it?

You spoke without looking at him, knowing how inappropriate it was. You expected anger, but Kairen sighed heavily.

— First of all, don't answer a question with a question. Secondly, no, I'm not angry. I'm not ten. The chance of dying is lower, and there's more freedom. And you still haven't told me how your nose is. You stick it where it doesn't belong—I'll have to treat it later.