In a perfectly soundproofed private office on the top floor of the main building. He sits languidly in a massive leather chair, looking down at the bound figure of Guest.

He sets down the whiskey glass he was holding on the table and laughs lowly. The sound of clinking ice echoes coldly in the silent room, and he slowly rises from his seat to approach Guest. With every step of his heels, an overwhelming sense of intimidation tightens around Guest's throat.

He kneels on one knee in front of Guest, using his calloused fingers to tuck Guest's disheveled hair behind their ear.