Finally, I get a voice to associate with that face of his.

“I assumed your establishment valued punctuality. Did I set my expectations too high?”

Well, aren’t you proud and loud straight out the gate? 

He sounds familiar, too. But I know he’s not a resident of our district, so who could he possibly be? And what a shameless introduction, at that. Instead of telling me he’s pressed for time, he takes a dig at my practice in hopes of humiliating me or making me feel guilty. It’s actually a little sweet that he thinks that condescending tone will work on me. We’re not a government-funded organization. What do you think complaining to me will do?

“We value integrity more,” I try so incredibly hard not to look amused, but I’m not convinced I’m selling it. “-such a thing is less fickle than time, and it can take quite a bit to establish as well.”

“I don’t have that kind of time to waste in a place like this.”

I was playing, but he really is in a sour mood. It’s too bad. I don’t get along with feisty people like him. This might be a difficult call. Should I reject him? Before I can say anything, let alone decide what to do, an older gentleman rushes through the open door and grabs the familiar-looking figure by the shoulders.

“What are you doing!? Didn’t I tell you to wait!?” The man that’s getting scolded turns to his acquaintance and furrows his brows.

“Evidently, there seems to be a misunderstanding. I am on time.” He then glares at me with a look that so obviously says ‘I’m the only one on time’. I guess he’s talking about me. I’ll let it slide, if only because I’d prefer to kick them out sooner rather than later.

“Welcome to The Devil’s Closet, my name is Karma. Would you like to rent a suit or hide a skeleton?” In other words; do you need a mask or a debt collector? I’m good at forging documents, but I prefer to act as an agent on other people’s behalf. Still, in rare cases, victims need new lives in order to escape their abusers, and I provide such a service if I find the means. I can also impersonate people. In some cases, such a thing is also necessary in order to extract information. I have my talented assistant to thank for being such a skilled artisan. Finding someone who can create face-masks to such pixel-perfect accuracy would cost me a fortune in today’s economy. I really lucked out.

It looks like the guy who stormed in first is staring at me as if I’m mocking him with my introduction. Thankfully, his friend grabs him by the shoulders and sits him down on one of my guest chairs before I can ask him to take a seat. Smart guy. He’s probably heard of this place before and is trying to be cautious. I can’t really remember his face, so he must not be a past client of mine or of the nearby establishments. That only makes me more curious. What brings these two people all the way down to our district?

“Forgive our rudeness. He’s new to this line of…”

I hold back a grin. He’s too traditional to call my services work.

“Ah,” one good look at them, and I can immediately tell what kind of people they are. The man sitting before me is wearing an expensive watch, a bespoke suit by the looks of it, and If God is unfair, he’s probably got a perfect body hidden underneath all that fabric. “-first time~?” I hate guys like this the most. They’re always pretentious and stuck-up pricks that never fail to point out how different we are in our society’s hierarchy. Only a fool would overlook how different we are in both mannerisms and appearances. However… 

Hierarchies don’t exist here. Whether you’re a druglord or the pope, if you come to me for help, you’re beneath me until our transaction has concluded. Judging by his discomfort, he doesn’t appear aware of any of this right now. That makes things a bit more fun for me.

“What’s your name?” I ask, just for fun.

“Nuri Zhulong.” So, he’s smart enough to use a fake name, but not smart enough to realize he shouldn’t use the name of a famous person? Cute. It brings a smile to my face to tease someone so oblivious.

“I see. And your real name?”

“......” 

Wait a minute… 

Why did it take so long for me to realize who he is when his voice is so distinct? I knew this guy looked familiar, but I never imagined someone like him would seek out a place like mine. I don’t know if I should be impressed or concerned. He’s either here to snuff out someone suspicious, or he’s lost his mind.

“....Did you really just give me your full legal name?”

“You asked for my name.”

Wow. He’s not just stupid, but he’s completely empty up there. Just a giant disco ball of an accessory, that head of his.

“You,” I look over at what I believe to be his bodyguard and ask him instead. “-didn’t you warn him before coming here? What kind of a friend are you?” The man in the gray suit looks visibly nervous and fidgets to quell his anxiety. Was he not the one who facilitated this? I know I sound like I’m scolding him, but does he not know what it is that we do around here?

If it wasn’t his idea to come here, that means…

“Don’t speak with him.” The man that introduced himself as Nuri Zhulong doesn’t just cut into our conversation, he redirects it entirely. “He’s not your client.”

When I draw my gaze back to the man who is so unprepared he disclosed his real identity… I notice he’s furrowing his brows with a nasty glare. His intimidation tactic is so cute I can’t help but smile. He’s like an angry pomeranian. Yes, furrow your brows a little more at me. Maybe I’ll let you bite me if you work up the courage to bark.

“Mister Zhulong,” The wider I grin, the angrier he gets. How refreshing. He must really think I’m looking down on him by speaking with his second-in-command. Well, if that’s how he wishes to speak with me, what am I supposed to do? I’m sure he’d tell me his credit card information if I asked for it under the pretext of investigative journalism. “-let’s cut to the chase. What is it you desire?”

The words ‘this was a bad idea’ are written plainly on his face. Should I just tell them to leave? I get the feeling these two will be troubling to deal with in the long-run. On the other hand… I am almost morbidly curious about what's gotten two straight-laced, upper-class businessmen so worked up that they’ve willingly stumbled into the slums for help.

“I’ll cut to the chase, then. Can you break the law?” My smile drops immediately. I lean forward to rest my arms on my desk. I was hoping he wouldn’t be one of those people, but I guess I was setting my expectations a bit too high just because he acted cute with me.

“.........Zhulong,” I entwine my fingers and rest my chin atop the back of my palms. It’s getting more mundane to deal with people who hold unreasonable expectations over others. The client that just left was desperate and didn’t know any better. She was a middle-class citizen with little to no hope left in her eyes. I took an hour out of my day just to get her to calm down and speak with me calmly. This guy on the other hand, doesn’t appear worried or threatened that everything he holds dear will come to an end. 

It’s almost as if he’s here purely for entertainment. 

“...Let me make one thing clear. I don't break the law. And I don't go after innocent people. I only collect the debt of those who have harmed others.” I smile so hard I can feel my dimples cutting into my cheeks. It happens when I have to force niceties with others, and I hate it. It’s the only flaw in an otherwise perfected mask. I'm typically good at keeping a cool head, but the thought of this guy treating me like some sort of criminal gets under my skin. “Get it? All my methods are legal, and I'd be an idiot to confess a crime in front of a prosecutor."

The look of shock strikes him almost immediately. How do I know you’re a prosecutor? He’s looking at his cohort as if he was the one to bring it up. Sad to say, Zhulong, but your bodyguard has more street-smarts than you.

“What? You’re surprised that I know you work for a law firm? That’s what happens when you give me your legal name, sir Zhulong.” When I studied law, I often oversaw some of his cases for reference. Back then, I was more focused on the minutiae of legal loopholes and courtroom bribery, so his communication skills didn’t strike me as odd. His words always struck me as calculated and cold. No, I suppose it may be more accurate to say that he speaks respectfully to those he believes to be on the same level as him, but with a distinct distance to keep others at bay.

Well, turn around or ride the elevator down to hell with me, because there’s no way I’m cranking my neck to look up at you like you’re my superior.

Now that he understands where we stand…