"Boss, are we really going to rely on Viscount Mod?"
Inside a row house, several figures either sit or stand.
Scarface in a sweater is wiping a sharp blade, while a lean man in a leather jacket and fuzzy hat is at the window, cautiously watching the garden outside.
"They say Viscount Mod is ruthless and unpredictable."
"If we really hand over the list, and he breaks his promise afterward....."
The worried voice of a slim man in a black suit speaks anxiously, with a cup of brown coffee on the redwood table in front of him.
The bitter aroma drifts as the man sitting across from the wooden table takes a gentle sip of coffee.
"Besides him, do you think we have any other choice?"
A calm rebuttal, his hair slicked back, appearing close to forty.
The black jacket adds a sharp aura to him, the thin man wanting to persuade further opens his mouth, but hesitates to speak.
"I understand..."
He sighed inwardly, realizing that times have changed.
