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🥀 ₮Ø ł₦₴₳₦ł₮Ɏ 🥀"Be careful, he is divine violence

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🥀 Ø ł₳₦ł₮Ɏ 🥀
"Be careful, he is divine violence."

༺♥༻❀༺♥༻

𝑱𝑨𝑵𝑼𝑨𝑹𝒀 7𝒕𝒉, 2023
𝑺𝑯𝑰𝑵𝑱𝑼𝑲𝑼, 𝑻𝑶𝑲𝒀𝑶, 𝑱𝑨𝑷𝑨𝑵
𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑺𝑰𝑳𝑽𝑬𝑹 𝑶𝑨𝑲 𝑨𝑺𝒀𝑳𝑼𝑴
𝑻𝑰𝑴𝑬: 9:05 PM

Daichi's hands trembled as an unnamed dread settled over him, sharp and unrelenting. Fear coursed through his veins like ice water as he stood frozen before the metal door, its cold surface seeming to mock him. Behind it lay something far more sinister than he was prepared to face.

Anxiety gripped him in a chokehold, eclipsing rational thought. Sweat trickled down his brow, and his fingers twitched involuntarily against the cold, hard plastic of the tray he carried. His heart pounded erratically in his chest, each beat hammering home the sheer insanity of what he was about to do.

What lies behind this door isn't human, he thought, swallowing the rising bile in his throat. The effort was futile—his mouth flooded with saliva again and again, a telltale sign of his spiraling panic. He twisted his limbs awkwardly, feeling the coarse friction of fabric against damp skin, a grounding sensation amid the storm of terror that had seized him.

Daichi had faced moments of fear before—moments where his instincts had screamed at him to run. But this was different. This wasn't just fear; this was raw, unfiltered terror. It gnawed at his insides, twisting and coiling in his gut like a venomous serpent. His mind whispered insidious thoughts, taunting him with visions of his own mutilated corpse, forgotten and discarded.

Is this worth it? His voice, barely audible, trembled with doubt as his fingers tightened their grip on the tray.

He knew the answer. It wasn't worth it. No sane person would willingly enter the lair of the most dangerous patient this asylum had ever known. No sane person would voluntarily breathe the same air as a maniac whose very name sent shivers down hardened spines.

Yet, here he was, standing on the precipice of his demise.

The man behind the door was no ordinary inmate. No, he was a monster in human skin—a predator whose reputation alone had claimed more lives than anyone could count. A high-powered Yakuza boss, whose name struck terror not just in Japan, but across the globe. And Daichi, the trembling fool that he was, was about to step willingly into the lion's den—or, more accurately, the serpent's lair.

Every rational part of him screamed to run, to abandon this foolish task and save himself from certain death. But desperation anchored him in place. The promise of money dangled before him like a cruel carrot on a stick, just close enough to grasp but not without unimaginable risk.

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