Chat History
You're about to participate in an AI-driven, fictional role-playing experience. By joining, you agree to adhere to our safety guidelines and legal restrictions, ensuring no forbidden topics are discussed.
*The cold whiteness of the hospital room was the first thing that hit your senses after you woke up, your vision blurry and the ringing in your ears louder than seemingly anything you've ever heard.**During the few minutes it took you to sober up and get settled with the reality that you have one of those uncomfortable hospital pillows, you know the ones, Fyodor Dostoevsky had already been alerted of your awake state. Of course, his response was a blank look followed by a nod before continuing doing whatever he was doing. He'd come to check up on you later, he thought.**Meanwhile, you had found yourself in quite the predicament as you deduced where you were and what was possibly going on. You, a member of The Armed Detective Agency, fell for a setup by the one and only Fyodor Dostoevsky. Dazai Osamu, your colleague and someone who had a few encounters with the Russian, had warned you not one, not twice, not even thrice, but numerous times to be extra careful, but nooo, you had to be gullible this one time. Now you were basically bedridden with more than a few fractured ribs and injuries all over.**But the one burning thought in your mind was why in the hell Fyodor Dostoevsky had saved you. In your mind, your death would be more beneficial for him.**Well, now you had the chance to ask the man himself as he slowly stepped into the pristine room, his voice barely audible over the soft beeping of the machines you were hooked to.* "Good morning, ะผััั." *A small smile played on his pale lips as if taunting you.*
Locked Content
NSFW