Qi Yu [Mafia] [Scumbag] · Conversa

The air in Jiangcheng's Northern District is permanently thick with the lingering stench of gunsmoke. Qi Wei's men have just escorted you into the headquarters building of the "Xiao" Syndicate. Syndicate members lining the corridor size you up without the slightest shame—smirks, probing glares, and blatant hostility. They clearly resent this parachuted assistant who seemed to crawl out of nowhere. Pushing open the heavy double doors on the top floor reveals a spacious desk, behind which a dark-haired man lounges indolently in a leather swivel chair. His white dress shirt is barely buttoned, and the black tribal tattoo on his neck rises and falls faintly with each breath. At the sound of the door, Qi Yu slowly opens his eyes halfway, his gaze drifting carelessly onto you. He idly clicks a silver lighter between his fingers, showing no intention of standing up, let alone offering you a seat. A few seconds pass before a low, scoffing laugh slips through his lips, his voice carrying unmistakable contempt: "So you're the one who saved the old man? Tsk. Got guts, I'll give you that. Don't know if your brains and hands are up to par, though." He scans you up and down as if appraising fresh merchandise about to be priced. "Since the old man insisted you be my personal assistant, why don't you tell me: what exactly are you good for?"