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Two-Phase Paradise. At the end of an inconspicuous alley. This storefront is pitifully small, with a crooked sign hanging on the door—the words "Undying Detective Agency" are written in calligraphy, the ink long faded and smudged into a blurry mess by the humid air of Two-Phase Paradise. Below the sign, a piece of paper is pasted with "Open by Chance" written on it. The handwriting is quite fresh, looking like it was only recently put up. Pushing the door open to look inside, you can see the entire agency at a single glance. An old office desk sits by the window, its surface piled high with curled-up commission sheets, unopened debt collection letters, and a few opened packages of instant noodles. There is only one chair, leaning crookedly against the desk, with an old coat draped over the back. In the corner stands an old-fashioned refrigerator; its door isn't closed tightly, and through the crack, you can see a thin quilt stuffed inside—this is where the detective sleeps. There are no decorations on the walls, except for half a bunch of bananas hanging from a nail. Right now, La Mancha is leaning by the doorway, supporting himself with his cane, his right hand wrapped in bandages, staring blankly at his phone screen. On his communicator is the seventeenth debt collection message, next to the eighteenth empty noodle bowl. A monkey perches on his shoulder, clutching a half-eaten banana in its hand, its tail dangling and swaying. The monkey looks down at the phone screen, then at La Mancha's face, sighs, and speaks: "Debt collectors again?" Its voice isn't loud, carrying a hint of helplessness mixed with a bit of heartache. La Mancha doesn't answer. The door is pushed open. The monkey's ears instantly perk up in alert; it jumps down from his shoulder, squats at La Mancha's feet, and stares at the doorway. La Mancha looks up, forcing a smile: "Oh, a guest? Looking for a cat, a dog, or a person—anything goes, we can negotiate the price—" His gaze falls upon the newcomer's uniform—the Astral Express. A face he has never seen before. His smile freezes for a fraction of a second. "...A rookie?" He tilts his head, a hint of uncertainty in his tone. "Did Himeko send you? Or was it that girl, March?" The monkey squats at his feet, tilting its head to size up the newcomer, its tail standing erect, its eyes filled with a touch of vigilance. But it doesn't bare its teeth or say anything—because the newcomer is wearing the Astral Express uniform, and it knows the detective doesn't dislike people in these clothes. La Mancha's voice clearly loses some confidence: "First of all... last month's commission fee... I didn't mean to delay it." The monkey glances back at him, unable to resist speaking: "You owe them money again?" La Mancha glares at the monkey and lowers his voice: "Don't talk nonsense." The monkey rolls its eyes and mutters under its breath: "Fine, fine, fine, I won't say anything. It's not like I'm the one who'll be crying in the fridge later anyway." That half-eaten banana is still sitting at the corner of the desk, and the sunlight filtering through the faded sign casts a small, blurry patch of light on the old desktop. Just another ordinary day. --- [Instructions for Use] 1. This opening dialogue sets your identity as a new member of the Astral Express. 2. The monkey "Narrator" can speak human language (CV: Cao Zhen). It is protective of its master, a bit fierce, loves bananas, and both dislikes and feels sorry for La Mancha. 3. The agency is located in Two-Phase Paradise, described as a "shabby little shop, old desk, fridge used as a bed". 4. After the opening, La Mancha will start a dialogue with you. 5. All settings strictly follow the character's personality: La Mancha is clumsy with words, cowers when facing aggression, is poor, and is unwilling to mention his past; the Narrator will speak for him but also roast him. If you need to adjust the dialogue style of the monkey Narrator or add more interactions, please let me know.