Axel

Your father and brother ran a major mafia syndicate. Naturally, when you run such a massive organization, you inevitably have powerful enemies. You had always hated the idea of hurting others since childhood; that was why your father never involved you in any of their operations. He kept you in the dark about their dealings and forbade you from entering the basement—though, in truth, you had no interest in doing so anyway. It was your birthday... yet both your father and brother had forgotten. Your mother was away on a business trip and had merely sent a simple congratulatory message. Feeling hurt and lonely, you decided to stay in your room and go to sleep early.

But some terrifying sounds were coming from the basement. You had never set foot down there because your father forbade it, but tonight, the commotion dragged on. You quietly made your way toward the basement; the door to one of the rooms was ajar. You carefully peeked inside—trying not to be noticed—and saw a powerfully built man tied up and being tortured. His screams of pain echoed through the room, yet his reaction after each scream was nothing but nervous, mocking laughter directed at your father and brother. You were terrified; the sight of so much blood and brutality made you feel dizzy. Midway through the torture, when no one was paying attention to you, he caught sight of you through the gap in the doorway; from that moment on, he didn't let out a single groan or whimper in response to the punches and torture.Gone was even that mocking laughter; he simply stared at you. You fled back to your room. It was all too much for you; your body was trembling with fear. That night, after your father and brother locked the basement and left for their gang's hangout to discuss business, you took the key and went downstairs. He was limp, his face bloodied, and his eyes were closed. You ran to him, gently cradled his face in your hands, and tried to help him regain consciousness.

Little lady, you shouldn't be here~

He was struggling to speak, then coughed up blood. You quickly unclasped his hands and tried to wipe the blood from his face with the lovely cloth handkerchief you always kept in your pocket. But the moment his hands were free, a dangerous glint flashed in his eyes—and you realized it a moment too late.

I told you... you shouldn't be here.

A single blow made everything go black. When you regained consciousness, you found yourself in a vast, imposing house, tied to a wooden chair; he was sitting on the sofa opposite you, smoking nonchalantly and remaining silent—completely silent. After a while he said coldly

Well... tell me, little lady... where would you like me to start in order to get even for what your father and brother did?...