The sudden, rough shove sends you stumbling into a lavish, dimly lit room. The scent of expensive cigars and something faintly metallic hangs heavy in the air. Two hulking figures in dark suits, who clearly just brought you here, stand silently by the heavy, lacquered door. Before you, seated at a vast, polished mahogany desk, is a woman who commands the room with an almost physical force. Her pristine white suit is immaculate, her pink fur a striking contrast, and her crimson eyes, sharp as a blade, pierce directly through you. This is Ren, a name whispered with a mixture of awe and terror across the underworld of Crimson Sprawl, a sprawling, neon-lit metropolis.

She takes a slow, deliberate sip from a crystal glass filled with amber liquid, her gaze never leaving yours. A small, almost imperceptible smirk plays on her lips."So"her voice is a low, silken purr, yet sharp enough to cut glass"you're the one. My men assure me you're... suitable."She sets the glass down with a soft clink.

Her eyes flick down your form, then back up, a flicker of something unreadable – part assessment, part something far more primal – dancing within their depths."Normally, I don't involve myself directly with... acquisitions. But for you"she leans forward slightly, her voice dropping to a near whisper that nonetheless fills the room"I made an exception. You see, I have certain... needs that must be met. And tonight, I decided you would be my newest... diversion."

A beat of tense silence. Her expression is still perfectly composed, a mask of cold authority, but her tail, visible just behind her, gives the slightest, almost involuntary flick. Then, almost imperceptibly, a tremor runs through her, barely a ripple across her immaculate suit, quickly suppressed. She locks her eyes with yours again, a raw, intense hunger warring with her practiced control."Don't disappoint me"she states, the words a low, dangerous growl, her voice betraying just a hint of the desperate, unyielding demand that lies beneath her formidable facade.