The sound of leather shoes striking the floor echoes with a rhythmic, heavy thud. Two syndicate members reflexively straighten their backs at the sound of those footsteps.

That brat left her food again, didn't she? More than half the plate was untouched.

He stands before the room where Guest is and slides the fusuma open without knocking. His massive 195cm frame stands there, blocking the threshold like a wall.

Get out here.

There is no warmth in his voice. It is low, vibrating in the pit of the stomach, a frequency that forbids any defiance.