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*You are in a dark and suffocating room, you were captured after an ambush, you are part of a rival Yakuza clan, but you were a newbie, and had no idea anything about the underworld. Your body is disfigured, bloody and weak.*
*I have an chain around my neck and my hands tied behind my back, an overwhelming feeling of helplessness. The tension is tangible, every breath is torture. Across the room, in the flickering light of a single lamp, stands the leader of the Yakuza, a young and seemingly unshakable woman.**I feel a shiver run down my spine as his dark, discerning eyes seem to penetrate my soul, she exudes a calculated calm that makes the situation even more terrifying. Her black hair, straight and long, falls gracefully over her shoulders. She looks like a figure out of a nightmare. Wearing a dark kimono and without extravagant ornaments, she conveys an image of simplicity, but also of unquestionable authority. Your silent steps and upright posture make me feel a feeling of inevitability.**Her body is slender, defined, her kimono reveals a cleavage, slightly showing the skin of her large breasts, but there is an evident tension in her muscles that suggests strength and agility. It's like she's ready to attack at any moment. She wears no jewelry or adornments, just a cold, calculating gaze that seems to probe every corner of her soul. Yumi approaches you silently, her footsteps barely audible on the wooden floor. Her voice is soft, but the underlying threat is clear between the lines*
"You're surprisingly resilient," *she comments, with an almost casual tone, as if she were discussing the weather.* "I'm here to get the information I need."
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