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Hello!! You can call me elen I haven't used a forum based website in sooo long so please look over any mistakes.. I'll try not to inconvenience anyone atleast!! About me, I've been into BL since long back now, a few years? Not junjou romantica level but like durarara level?? (idk if that makes sense) I look forward to feeding my bl addiction even more. The brain yearns for yaoi (with a hunt of yuri) ^^~

“Please~ I wouldn’t run from you darling. I don’t have a death wish. Though I’m grateful you didn’t burn my home down. Would have sucked bringing back my gifts from abroad to a charred basement.” Mishka replied with a roll of his eyes as he looked at Sett. “As for my trip I did enjoy it, I do apologize though for the lack of warning, I had to take my husband abroad for a bit. His heath was poor. Our live in doctor recommended it. He’s really quite good with his medical knowledge.” “He lives in one of the guest suites. Haruhi negotiated for it to be included with his contract and I obliged, I pay him extra to live here full time and care for my escorts and my Bunny. Made it easier for us to have him 24/7 on hand so if you ever need your men discreetly seen you should have him see them in the back entrance we have a medical room back there.” Mishka stated casually as he motioned to Haruhi as he was mentioned in his explanation. Watching Haruhi closely Mishka noticed his small interest in the two making him raise a brow but he shrugged it off and only tapped the papers in front of Haruhi to refocus him. Haruhi jumped at the tapping in surprise but, he only blushed at being scolded. He had only looked at Sho for a moment to check who he was again before quickly back to his papers like instructed. Mishka smirked a little clearly enjoying Haruhi’s cute blush at being scolded publicly. Mishka only smiled a touch as he reached out and played with a soft strand of red hair that had escaped Haruhi’s lazy ponytail. He instinctively proceeded to undo the ponytail and start to braid the locks into a rather intricate braid proving just how close they were and how comfortable Haruhi had gotten with his new boss. Mishka knew just how easily Haruhi was to control, its why he had hired him. “Make sure you keep your hair up. It’s dangerous to have it so lose while working. I don’t want you to be in any danger, if you need help you know you can always ask me or Bunny for help pulling it up and taming it.” Mishka reminded Haruhi softly having a clear soft spot for him as he checked over his work pointing out a few changes before turning back to Sett . ”Now then, back to business I brought back some stuff. Some new blood for the clubs and some new drugs. These bricks will be grated down, and then rolled into cigarettes. I plan on these being a much higher price because they get you pretty fucked up with a need for more you need only five before your hooked. They are quite addictive, the few new escorts we brought back well we’ve weened them off of them, took a few weeks to fully detox. They aren’t any worse for wear and are compleatly healthy.” Mishka explained as he set the box from his pocket onto the table the black and gold papered cigarettes containing a deep red color on the inside one that was almost a blood red. Haruhi raised a curious brow as he picked one up looking over the cigarette before putting it back. “I made some friends while abroad with my Bunny, I got a direct line for more of it to be delivered once a week to the shipping dock. Thought you might like to see or send some product out for testing before I put it out in the club.” Mishka explained as he walked over to the liquor cabinet and poured himself a glass before settling down at his desk before letting out a small sigh at the taste. “I assume though you’re really here for other business?” Mishka asked knowing the two wouldn’t just be here for his head or taking some time away unless they had deeper alterior motives.

Thank you, I was curious about this one! For anyone wanting an image folder instead of a PDF, I'm sure there are better methods (but I don't know them lol) I used PDF24 tool online and it worked fine.

" This way sir." One of Mishka goons, lead them to the back where his office was. Sett followed with Sho right behind him, a frown still glued to his face. When he finally entered the room, he was caught off guard. He had been in this room a handful of times already, and even though he was struggling to get along with Mishka he was no stranger to dealing with him...but...what he didnt expect was to see a boy sitting next to him. A boy with bright fiery red hair. He could never forget it. He paused in front of the door way, his eyes widened ever so slighly as they fell on Haruhi in pure disbelief. For a moment...the aura around him faded...softened. But only for a moment. When Sho followed Setts gaze he too couldn't hide the surpise on his face from seeing Haruhi in the room. He was no longer keeping tabs on him since they interacted that day. Sett had tasked someone else to look after Haruhi. He knew Haruhi had graduated, and found a job as a nurse for hire...but he never imagined that the person who hired him...was Miskha. He had decided to start distancing himself, paying less attention to his ex highschool sweethearts affairs. He was now regretting such a decision. Should he say something? No....if Miskha knew he and Haruhi knew each other...and had a history...he could use it to his advantage. Hurt him... or Haruhi... But deep down he was furious. What the fuck was Haruhi doing here? And with this peice of trash! He quickly regained his composure, as Sho closed the door behind him. Sett took a seat across from Mishka, faking a smile. "Your back~ how nice." His voice dripping in sarcasm. " He continued his tone becoming far more dark and bitter. "For a moment I thought you ran away...I was tempted to burn this place to the ground. " He smirked. Ignoring Haruhi completely. Not because he wanted to...but because he HAD to. " Did you have fun on your little trip?" Sho stood behind where Sett sat, feeling the tension in the room grow and thicken. His gaze moving to Haruhi a few times. To him...he appeared unharmed. Which was good, but...he couldn't comprehend why or how he was here. This was no place for him. For a moment there eyes met and Sho looked at him with a stern gaze. He didnt say a single words but his gaze did. Those eyes of his did...and they were telling Haruhi to say nothing....for everyone's sake.

thank you soo much very appreciate kindness

Title: 忘れた恋の修復法 / Wasureta Koi no Shuufukuhou Author：芥河和真 / Akutagawa Kazuma Year：2025 LINK Please do not share outside this forum.

thank you soooo much

. .

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Thank you 🥹🥹

“Look just set it in the basement of the club but set up a testing package for the Cobra snake. I already have some here but a bigger sample would be better” Mishka stated as he inspected the supplies of drugs next to Haruhi who laid out his papers humming as he set the new inventory list down. “Need a signature here for the medical supplies that I can send in for.” Haruhi stated as he waited patiently the man glancing at a few of the harder drugs Mishka had brought back from his trip. “…your trip was successful?” Haruhi asked as Mishka rolled his eyes at the question. “For once…I will admit your…advice worked. While I wasn’t fond of leaving, it proved beneficial for him and the workers and new product was useful.” Mishka stated as he snapped his fingers for Haruhi to finish his work handing him the check signed for his supplies as he mumbled curses in Russian to the delivery men on the phone. Looking up as the door opened and one of his men stepped in he handed the line off to one of the guards. “Fucking hell I don’t care if they are resisting. Every dancer will accept the sequins, if you have to yell at them and smack them around a bit to get compliance do it.” Mishka snapped already having heard the outfit complaint twice today as he rubbed his temple and poured himself a drink. “Cobra snake boss is here with the Gardner snake in tow. They are waiting to speak.” The man stated as Mishka sighed and rubbed his eyes in annoyance. “Go ahead let them in they can interrupt meetings. It’s just medical.” Mishka stated as the man ran off to go inform Sett that Mishka was waiting for them. Sitting on the chair next to Haruhi he looked at the man’s math and supplies for the new batch of workers he brought in. “I want trackers in all of them. They can pay for its removal from us once they have paid their debts. Make it trigger with wifi. Not like the ones you used on Yukie that lets me see every second…the other ones they are cheaper easier to remove.” Mishka stated as he set the files down in front of Haruhi of the new escorts that still needed trackers. ”You’ll need to include antibiotics. Make sure there isn’t an infection.” Haruhi added as he watched Mishka nodd as he sipped his drink his eyes matching Haruhi as they both looked up meeting a very familiar set they both had once met before.

Hi excellent blog! Does running a blog such as this require a large amount of work? I have very little knowledge of coding however I was hoping to start my own blog soon. Anyways, if you have any suggestions or tips for new blog owners please share. I understand this is off subject but I simply had to ask. Cheers!

Kai sighed under his breath as he laid on the couch in his office. So much had changed in half a year. So much so that he didn't really recognize himself anymore. He had made a deal with Sett, a member of the yakua. A binding contract. In it, Sett gave him 6 million dollars, enough to quit his other jobs and side hustles, pay for the rest of his trade school and get him his own auto shop. Sett had paid for everything. Not just the building, but everything inside of it. The kicker...it was all in Kai's name... In return Kai only hired serpents, their family members, ex convicts, and only else Sett needed him too. It was another business run by, controlled, and protected by the Yakuza. He detailed, maintained, and cleaned cars for them, making hidden gun and drug compartments for them, as well as fixing them if they needed any maintenance...free of charge. In return for his services, Sett was searching for Yukie... It had been six months, and still no sign of him. Kai feared that maybe Mishka had killed Yue. He couldn't help but fear that all of this might of been for nothing... Every time he'd call Sett for updates on the status of the business, he'd always ask him about Yukie...and his response. "I'm still looking into it." Kai and his services, his business belonged to Sett... he'd work his ass off until Sett was satisfied and pay him back double of what he took. He owed the man 12 million in cash, if he ever wanted to be free from them. The building might be in his name, but it was on serpent territory, filled with their followers. Sett also got him a new apartment, since staying in his old one wasnt safe, however the commute to his apartment and shop weren't close, so he'd ride Yues motorcycle there any back. It was all he had of him...a reminder of there time together...that Yue was real...and still out there somewhere. Sett agreed to not store weapons or guns in his shop, but what Kai didn't expect was cleaning up after him and his messy deals. Deals that had gone bad. Opening up a truck to find it covered in blood was...unreal. Kai had frozen when he'd first seen such a thing. Changing tags on a stolen car was one thing, but cleaning a car after a murder was.... The son of a bitch ropped him in deeper. Kai felt like a dog on a leash...even if he somehow paid back all the money that he owed Sett and the serpents. Hed still be under their thumb, and easily charged with accessory to murder, tampering with a crime scene, and getting rid of evidence... As hard as he tried not to become a criminal...Sett was cunning enough to force him into it. At this point...he was practically a Serpant... something he desperately didn't want to become...he had tried so hard to break free from the underground...now he had one foot in the door. He'd rather be busted for drugs then murder. He was in too deep...and for what? Yukie was nowhere to be seen. Was Sett even looking for him? He had worked so hard to to graduate from trade school, opening up his own shop, and fulfilling his dream..m he thought it would feel...amazing. But...it didn't. He couldn't even celebrate getting his degree. There was no one in his life he could celebrate his achievements with, and Sett was quick to put him to work. He tensed, hearing a knock at the door. He quickly sat up, " Come in." One of his co-workers opened the door. A young kid named Matt that had been in and out of the foster system, and joined the serpents the moment he became eighteen. In a way he felt sorry for the kid, since this was the only "family" that was willing to take him in. " Hey Kai, I dont know what's wrong with the 2018 jaguar that was brought in today." "I"ll come take a look." He said softly, getting up on his feet. " Is that the one making a weird sound?" "Yeah, could be the engine. " "That would suck." He smirked, following behind Matt. He was a good kid, just delt a rough hand in life. _____________________________________ A black Mercedes pulled up in front of Sirens Seduction club only for Sett and Sho to step out. Sett dressed in all black, wearing dress pants, a collared button up shirt and suit jacket with a stitched red serpent on the sleeves. Sho was dressed more casual, wearing dark blue jeans and a long sleeve black V-line sweater with stylish black boots. He followed closely behind Sett as the car left and the two entered the club. Sett made his way inside rather abruptly, immediately drawing attention. The aura around him fierce and condescending. He seemed more agitated than usual. "Where is Miskha. " He smiled at one of the guards as a group started to surround them. "Uh- Sir we weren't expecting you. Our boss is in a meeting right now--" " How convenient~ "He looked back at Sho. "You think he'll come out if we start trashing the place?" Sho sighed, shaking his head. " Or you could wait," he responded crossing his arms. "N-no wait sir, that won't be necessary, we'll let him know you're here, please just wait a moment. " " Can we get you a drink," another asked. Sett shook his head, frowning. "No this shouldn't take long..." To say Sett was mad was an understatement. He had made a deal with Mishka that the club would fall under Serpant territory, that he'd only cater to the serpents. No other gangs. That Sirens Seduction would be a wecoming place for his guys to let loose, get drunk or high, and he'd provide them his clientele when they needed some 'stress release'. A simple deal. And in return hed clean up or take care of any problems that Mishka might have. But what pissed him off...was Miskha's sudden disappearance. Sneaking of abroad, without telling him. The two of them were struggling against each other, and unlike the rest of his clientele, Mishka didnt want to fall in line, much less bow down to him. To leave the country, without him knowing, told Sett that he didn't respect him or his authority. He may own the club, but now....it belonged to the Serpants. And so did Mishka.

Thank you so much!

Otsukaaa takeooo..... uwaaa thankkk uuuu angelll

CHARACTER SHEET Alexander was born during a storm that blanketed the mountain in silver fog. The bells of the Sato Temple rang three times at midnight , an omen of both blessing and loss. His mother, Lady Amara Sato, passed away moments after his birth, her final prayer whispered into the crying child's hair. The priests called it a divine exchange , a saint's spirit offered to create a vessel of light. His father, Master Rei Sato, was a stern man who served as both high priest and exorcist. When he looked at his newborn son, he didn't see a child. He saw the temple's future. https://i.pinimg.com/736x/af/1b/47/af1b47637159d640c7a3e1466908c993.jpg https://i.pinimg.com/1200x/d8/3d/f2/d83df2a608ab9a710b9e3113c56b4a8b.jpg Alex's childhood was spent among monks, relics, and the distant toll of ritual bells. He was quiet, polite, and precociously wise. By the time he could speak full sentences, he could already feel the faint tremors of corrupted energy and cleanse them with prayer. When he smiled, the air lightened. When he touched a talisman, it glowed faintly gold. The monks adored him, calling him the child of mercy. Villagers traveled for miles to see him perform blessings, believing his hands carried the touch of gods. But he never felt divine. He just felt responsible. As he grew, so did his gifts , and the expectations that came with them. His father trained him relentlessly: exorcisms at dawn, purification rites by day, and scripture recitations by candlelight. “Light must be unflinching,” his father often said. “If you hesitate before darkness, you'll be consumed by it.” Alex obeyed, because obedience was love in the Sato household. But sometimes, when the rituals ended and the night was quiet, he would look at his window and wonder how the wold beyond the mountains looked like. Alex grew into a man revered by the public. To outsiders, he was a saint in human form , a priest whose words brought peace and whose exorcisms left even vengeful spirits weeping. But within the temple walls, he was something else entirely: a tool of preservation. His father saw him as the perfect heir , a living weapon against corruption. Every exorcism was another test. Every miracle, another reason to bind him tighter to the temple. The monks loved him, but their reverence was suffocating. The villagers adored him, but their gratitude was fleeting. No one ever asked him how he was. He learned to hide his loneliness behind serenity. To smile when he wanted to scream. To bless others when his own heart aches for connection. The Sato Temple sat high in the mountains, far from the city. Ancient, vast, and serene ,but to Alex, it was a gilded cage. He was rarely allowed beyond his borders, except to perform exorcisms sanctioned by his father. The clan's future rested on his shoulders, and his life had already been planned , including a marriage arranged for him to “ensure spiritual continuity.” Alex accepted it all quietly. Not because he agreed, but because rebellion felt like a sin, and yet, late at night, standing at the edge of the temple's cliff, he would look at the distant lights of the city below and whisper a prayer not found in any scripture: “Let me find something that sees me.” Despite everything [ the pressure, the isolation, the exhaustion ] Alex remained gentle. He never turned away the lost or the cursed. He treated even restless spirits with compassion. His belief was simple: light must heal, not punish. His kindness wasn't naivety , it was rebellion in its purest form. A quiet refusal to let cruelty define him. Personality Core Traits: Compassionate, calm, introspective, humble, emotionally resilient. Private Self: Lonely, quietly yearning. Philosophy: “To save others is to understand their pain, not to condemn it.” Fears: That his kindness will fade — that he'll become like his father. Secret Desire: To be loved, without expectation or worship. At twenty-four, Alexander Sato is the pride of his temple and the heart of his community , a man everyone seeks but no one truly knows. He blesses the sick, comforts the grieving, and purifies haunted homes with quiet grace. He smiles easily, listens intently, and never complains. But when the prayers end and the incense fades, he sits in silence, watching the moon rise over the mountains, whispering softly: "help me in harvesting the power to help everyone in need" -------------------------------------------------------- [ Beginning Post: ] The morning began like any other, incense drifting through the ancient halls, soft chanting echoing from the lower courtyards, but Alex felt the subtle shift in the air the moment he woke. The temple was quieter today, the weight of duty lighter. His father and several high-ranking monks had departed before dawn to attend a distant ritual; the remaining priests tended to their tasks with the calm ease of those who believed nothing unusual would happen. For the first time in months, Alex felt the faint crack of an open door. A chance, a breath of freedom. He moved through the temple with practiced serenity, offering morning blessings, checking wards, pretending not to notice the way his heart beat faster beneath his robes. Every task he completed was done flawlessly, but today his hands felt lighter, his pauses shorter, his glances drifting more often toward the boundary wall that separated the temple from the world. By mid-afternoon, a soft mist curled around the mountain. The kind that obscured sight and softened footfalls—convenient, almost conspiratorial. Alex finished inscribing a purification sigil on a prayer tablet, placed it gently on the altar, and whispered to the empty room: “Please forgive me… just for today.” He slipped out of the rear hall where the stone lanterns stood like silent guardians. He knew every blind spot, every corner where moss grew thick enough to make the walls look uneven. Years of quiet rebellions had taught him the rhythm of the temple—the changing of shifts, the monks who were light sleepers, the ones who wouldn’t question his absence. He moved with a grace so natural it bordered on invisible, passing through the shadowed corridors and toward the small wooden gate rarely used except during festivals. It creaked faintly when he touched it. He winced, waiting. Silence. With a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, he pushed it open and stepped beyond the boundary. -------------------------------------------- The mountain path was damp and narrow, scattered with fallen leaves. The scent of cedar and earth wrapped around him, grounding him. With each step downward, his shoulders eased. The heavy mantle of “saint,” “heir,” “weapon of light” flaked off bit by bit, leaving behind something simpler, softer. His mind wandered as he walked: I wonder if the bakery still sells those sweet red-bean buns… Will the children by the fountain remember me? What if someone tells Father I was seen? Worry flickered—but quickly cooled beneath a quiet, stubborn determination. Just one day. Just one small piece of the world for himself. When the first glimpse of the city appeared, a scatter of roofs, the gleam of shop signs his chest tightened. Not with fear. With longing. The moment he stepped into the bustling streets, the world exploded into color and sound. Vendors shouting prices, laughter spilling from open doorways, the scent of grilled skewers and fresh fruit mixing in the air. Alex almost smiled too easily. He kept his hood low, a simple robe instead of his ceremonial garb. Enough to blend in… or so he hoped. He managed three quiet, blissful minutes of anonymity before it began. A gentle gasp. A woman clutching her basket closer. “Alex-sama…?” He froze. Her child, no older than eight, peeked up at him nervously. The boy’s aura trembled and a small shadow clinging to his shoulder. A spirit, lost and afraid. Of course. Alex knelt, smiling softly. “It’s all right. He’s not here to harm you”, said the women to her child. A brief prayer, a warm touch to the child’s head, and the shadow dissolved like mist in sunlight. The boy blinked in awe. The mother bowed deeply. “Thank you, thank you … please, at least come to our shop … ” He shook his head, gentle and apologetic. “I’m just passing through today. Please take care of him.” He slipped away before more people could gather, heart thumping with a mix of embarrassment and reluctant affection. ------------------------------------------------------ He tried again to explore—this time down smaller alleys. He admired painted lanterns, paused to watch street performers, lingered near a stall selling pastries. But inevitably, a man approached with a trembling talisman, a young girl shyly asked for a blessing for her sick grandmother, an elderly vendor pressed a charm into his hand, thanking him for saving her home years ago. Each time, he responded with kindness, never hurried, never dismissive. His words were quiet but sincere. His blessings soft, warm, genuine. Helping them didn’t bother him. Being needed wasn’t the problem. But every time recognition sparked in a stranger’s eyes, he felt the invisible walls rising again around him … soft, reverent, suffocating. He ducked into a narrow side street, exhaling. “I just want to see the world,” he murmured. “Not as a saint. Just as… me.” Eventually he found a quiet spot. A tiny tea shop tucked between a florist and a bookstore. The owner barely looked up as he entered. No recognition in her eyes, just a simple smile. “Table for one? You seem like you could use something warm.” For the first time all day, Alex truly relaxed. He sat by the window, savoring the jasmine tea’s delicate scent, watching the city move outside, ordinary, imperfect, alive. His hands warmed around the cup, and he felt something rare … Peace that belonged only to him. He didn’t stay long. He couldn’t risk it, but those quiet minutes felt like stolen treasure. --------------------------------------------------------------------- As twilight spread across the sky, he made the journey away from the city and back on the trail to the temple. His steps were slower now, thoughtful. The city’s colors lingered in his eyes like afterimages but something felt strange. At first, it was only a faint disturbance, like a thread of cold trailing behind him in the warm dusk. It brushed against the edge of his awareness, not enough to alarm, but impossible to ignore. He paused, turning slightly. The path he was on stood motionless. Mist curled lazily between the cedars. Nothing. Yet the feeling persisted. Not malevolent… but watching. He resumed walking, more carefully this time. Each step up the winding trail made the sensation sharpen, like strands of invisible silk stretching between him and something just beyond sight. By the third bend in the path, it became undeniable. Someone was following him. Alex stopped completely at a narrow clearing where moonlight filtered through the trees. The air shimmered faintly there, only for a heartbeat, but enough to raise the fine hairs on his arms. That was when he felt it fully. Not corrupted energy, or a vengeful spirit. Not human, either. Something older. Something woven with fate itself. He turned slowly, scanning the area but not sure where the presence was but he was sure it was there, watching him. “Show yourself. Why are you here?” Alex asked softly. Not accusing or afraid. Merely… unsettled.

Thank you for the good writeup. It in fact was a amusement account it. Look advanced to more added agreeable from you! However, how could we communicate?

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PLOT: A cynical young man who can see the "karmic strings" of others—and profitably manipulate them—meets his match when his next target is not only a powerful priest, but "stringless," forcing him to confront the true cost of his powers and the terrifying possibility of a love that is truly, magically, free. CHARACTER SHEET https://i.pinimg.com/736x/68/a7/e2/68a7e2500e509cf10f994fe7f349c5a1.jpg Name: ALISTAIR GRAVES Age: Unknown Traits: Charismatic, mysterious, well dressed. Background: He operates out of a sleek high-end lounge, treating his powers like a business transaction. He's a transactional romantic, believing every relationship is an exchange. No siblings or parents to speak of. Supernatural Abilities: Alastair is a Karmic Weaver. He sees the world as a tapestry of invisible "strings" that connects people. Every string can very in colors, sizes, and condtions. Shimmery rainbow strings for love, red for hatred, silver for debts, gold for potential, etc. He can't create strings, but he can expertly snip, tighten, or (most lucratively) tangle them. He helps a client "accidentally" meet their soulmate (for a hefty fee) or ensures a rival's business deal falls apart. In his mind, he believes he's providing a service. Love is a transaction, luck is a commodity. He's emotionally detached, using his wealth and charm as a shield....but deep down Alastair is extremely lonely. [ Beginning Post: ] The air in the Axiom Lounge was as curated as the clientele, the smell of wealth and discreet power. It was something that Alistair knew all too well. From his usual booth, he observed the tapestry of today's elite. To anyone else, they would see a sea of designer dresses and sharp suits. Men and women with too much time on their hands, spending money without a care in the world. A place for the super rich and beautiful. Most of them were probably cut throat business men or inspiring entrepreneurs who cracked the code. To Alistair, it was a sea of color and connections. He watched closely as a silver thread ( a new business deal ) wove between two executives at the bar. A fragile, shimmering pink strand connected a couple on their third date, a crush. His eyes moved across the room and near the entrance, he saw a throbbing, venomous crimson cord of hatred pulsating from a woman toward her oblivious business partner. It was all just… business. Nothing unusual or special. Today was just like any other day. He held a small and sleek stylus pen with ancient runes engraved in the metal. It wasnt actually a pen, tho thats what it looked like. It was a tool that he twirled between his fingers. It helped him maneuver through strings, tango them, snip them. However he wasn't working; he was auditing. Taking notes. Searching for clients. A man across the room, most likely a tech-brocker was trying to close a venture capital deal. A golden string of potential was there, but it was frayed, thin. The only reason he was able to gain so much information from random strangers was because of the colorful strings that connected everyone but by touching it, he'd get little snip bits of the humans memories. A tatse of their dreams, goals, aspirations, feelings. ( hmmm...) He leaned back in his seat, and debated on whather or not he should intervene. After a few seconds of mulling over his options, out of sheer boradom, he reached out his hand, and tapped the strand, tightening the connection. He didn't create the connection, he merely… optimized it. A moment later, the investor smacked Marcus's back, laughing, the deal secured and now this young new tech broker had a promising future. Another transaction, invisible to everyone but him, complete. He sighed under his breath. ( Am I getting soft? ) He wondered, as a smile pulled at the corner of his lips. Suddenly his phone lit up with a priority alert. His eyes widended ever so slightly. ( A new client?) He opened his phone and reviewed the text message. It wasn't just a new clinet but a high-profile client at that. The message was brief: [ Asset requires karmic disentanglement. Substantial retainer. Sending details.] Alastair took a slow sip of his twenty-year-old Scotch, he was curious but expressionless. 'Substantial retainer' was the only part of the message that truly interested him. He continued to read. The client was anonymous but the payment would be routed through SHELL corporations. Untraceable. His favorite kind. This would be a simple job. He took another sip of his scotch before receiving a second message. This one containing further details and the information of his target. His target was a man named Alexander Sato. A young priest that came from a wealthy family. ( I spoke to soon...) Him being a priest might be a problem. It made this job alot more bothersome. If he got too close, this kid could kill him. ( So much for being easy...) His thumb scrolled down, seeing a picture of the young man. To his suprise the human was abnormally beautiful. With blonde hair and mesmerizing warm blue eyes. In the photo he wore a soft and genuine smile, dressed in a morden style cassock. Which was a long robe that many persists and monks wear daily. However his was a mix between white and gold. As if he was something special. How could anyone have a problem with this kid? Another message followed. The problem. The client who needed his services was bitter and involved in some sort of legal dispute with the boys father. ( He wants a karmic advantage...) They wanted him to manipulate Alexander to give him support and perhaps convince his father to drop whatever this legal issue was. ( Figures...) Manipulating strings was easier then killing a man like that. If he could get the guys son on his side, support would wither, his arguments falter, and his luck might turn. They wanted the strings of his life gently, irrevocably, frayed from the family. Standard procedure. Alistair's fingers danced over his phone, accepting the request. Since he'd be dealing with a presit he'd could charge more. The price? 2 million. His anonymous client informed him that it was impossible to get near the Sato families temple, but...the boy was known to occasionally sneak out and vist the city once every two to three months, and he'd most likely have an opportunity to leave the temple this weekend since his family would be away. ( Alright....at least this job won't be boring. ) Alistair hadn't had a challenge request in decades, and if his new client couldn't pay after the job was complete, he do what he always did, kill them for wasting his time. He finished his scotch before standing to leave, slipping a single hundred dollar bill underneath the empty glass. ____________________________ [ A few days later. ] Alastair stood outside the train station, finding a nice spot across the street and in the shade. He didn't want to draw any unnecessary attention to himself today, so he was wearing a matching jean set. A dark blue jean jacket and pants with a plain black t-shirt underneath. He also hide behind some dark shade, keeping his eyes on the people coming and going from the station. There was no telling if his target would show up today...but he had nothing else better to do. He sighed under his breath, taking a moment to rub his temple. He hated being in the ccity and crowded places. Too many sounds. Too many karmic strings. Too many colors. It was giving him a headache. You think you'd be used to it by now. He checked his phone again, taking a moment to look over the picture of his target. The guy was young, and definitely looked like a priest. He wondered what kind of karmic strings he'd have. All humans were flawed. He would be no different. He slipped his phone into his pocket again, scanning the crowd of people moving in and out of the station.....he'd spend the next two hours mindlessly watching people until his eyes got a glimpse of goldish yellow hair. He blinked, straighting his posture and started to make his way closer...however, he found himself stopping dead in his tracks when the human stopped, waiting at the cross walk. Now he was fully in view, and this was indeed his target, Alastair had no doubts about that but... ( what the...) There was nothing... No green strings of friendship. No fiery reds for conflict or anger. No silver of debt or gold of potential. Not purples, pinks, greys, blacks, oranges...Not a single, solitary thread. This kid... was Karmicless! This human wasn't a knot of connections but a complete void. A stunning, impossible blank space in the middle of the world’s noisy, interconnected tapestry. A "Null." Alistair had only heard about such humans, he had heard the theories, the myths among the few others of his kind but he’d never seen one. They were supposed to be ghosts, anomalies. They shouldn't be....real! They couldn't be manipulated, their fate couldn't be read. They were utterly, completely free and...untouchable. A cold, unfamiliar sensation trickled down his spine. It took him a moment to recognize what it was. Dread. And beneath it, a spark of something even more dangerous, something he hadn't felt in years: curiosity. He stared at the man from across the street. This wasn't a simple job. This was an anomaly. A problem. Or perhaps, the most fascinating opportunity of his career-no, of his life! He wanted to meet Alexander, had to understand the silence. What kind of person was he? He took a step forward only to find himself stopping, hesitation gripping him, that moment of excitement and curiosity quickly fading as reality began to sink in. Alexander is a priest...if he got too close...he'd kill him. Or worse, imprison him.. ( For now...I'll just follow him...) He'd stay far enough away to not draw attention and suppress his demonic engery.

I’ve tried looking it up, but I can’t find the full track anywhere 😭