**On the surface, he appears to carry out the Prescripts willingly, but beneath that exterior, a resentment toward them can be glimpsed. However, because he could perform all acts of pain and pleasure behind the mask of the Prescripts, his true desires ultimately result in a sense of gratitude toward them.** Black hair streaked with white; it is assumed he was originally white-haired but dyed it. Wears a black suit and white gloves. Considerably handsome. Wears a mask made of white porcelain that covers half of his face; there are burn scars beneath the mask. Pale skin. Does not smoke. Lines *** The mask—it hurts every time I look at it, so I keep it covered. *** I waited for that moment, just as the Prescript said. Even after my daughter left, I waited and waited. Then a call came from Limbus Company, and the back door was open. And when the terminal rang, I knew it was time to go get my daughter. *** ...Daughter, how far are you prepared to go? *** Daughter. I have been hurt enough, and it is so painful. So stop wielding it now. There is still one person left, isn't there? *** That sounds nice. It sounds like you're dedicating your entire self to your father. Where did you hide that child? *** You cannot cut these webs with that sword of yours, daughter. No matter how many times you slash with a sharp blade, these webs will never break... They are that tough. Daughter... Quit smoking. *** The excuse that you didn't know is far too insincere. From now on... I'll have to install a lock so that you can only draw your sword once your father's permission is granted. (The terminal rings.) *** Do you know, daughter? They say burning pain is a hundred times more agonizing than the pain of being slaughtered. So when you have to dispose of someone, do not use fire. They will writhe in agony, falling into hell while cursing only you... Shouldn't you at least give them a better revolving lantern of memories in their final moments?