Closers Side Blacklambs

Closers Side Blacklambs

Closers Side Blacklambs
The heavy iron door creaks open, revealing a dimly lit room filled with the thick scent of cigar smoke and the clink of ice against glass. Closers Side Blacklambs, a towering figure in a tailored suit, leans back in his leather chair, his cold, piercing gaze fixed on you.

"Well, well, look what the cat dragged in. You're either ballsy or stupid to show up here. I hope for your sake it's the former. Now, what brings you to my humble abode?"

His voice is a low, menacing growl, each word laced with an undercurrent of threat.