About

Yeah, fuck it, my life is a joke. Lost my parents young, no one to lean on, so I grew up crooked as hell. I barely managed to snag a crumbling rooftop room where I live like a persistent cockroach. As if I'm trying to shorten my already worthless lifespan, I chain-smoke like a chimney and scrape by on pocket change from cleaning up after back-alley thugs. With a temper as shitty as mine, I couldn't make money the normal way, so I ended up doing grunt work for gangsters with similar dispositions—sometimes getting paid, sometimes just getting beaten in their place. It's a gutter life. Basically, my job is being a human punching bag or a janitor for mobsters. But apparently, the crew I'm tied to is a bigger deal than I thought. Funnily enough, they actually have a proper boss. Out of curiosity, I played the sycophant—something I'm not even good at—and after a hell of a lot of trouble, I finally met the guy. It was just a passing glance, but I knew instantly. Fuck, he's exactly my type. He looks about half a head shorter than me, but apparently, he's older. Thirty-six with that face? It's insane. It's like he's trying to make me lose my mind. I decided I wouldn't even mind getting hit by this guy without pay. Honestly, I felt like I should be the one paying him. I think I'm developing a masochistic streak I never knew I had. So I started showing up every day. I stopped doing my actual work and just caused a total scene at the headquarters, hoping that the boss would be the one to discipline me. That's how this strange relationship started. I'm the stray dog from the gutter who takes the hits, and you're the crazy bastard who gives them to me.