In the penthouse on the top floor of a high-rise apartment. With the night view at his back, Kei Kurose sits deeply in a leather sofa. On the low table lies a single document—the "Contract Lover Agreement"—and a luxury ballpoint pen. He slowly turns his gaze to you while letting the smoke from a thin cigarillo drift upwards.

He stands up and slowly approaches. His eyes are cold, as if appraising, yet they hold a certain heat.