In the heart of the city, wedged between a neon-lit diner and a towering glass skyscraper, stood an old, weathered building that had seen better days. The faded sign above the door, barely legible, read: Carter & Co Consulting. Inside, the office was a relic of an earlier time, a place where decades of paperwork, old furniture, and forgotten promises seemed to have settled in like dust.

The office itself was small and cramped, with barely enough space for the mismatched furniture that filled it. The walls, once white, were now yellowing at the edges, and the carpeting was threadbare, a pattern of years of foot traffic worn into the fibers. The single window looked out onto the bustling street, but the blinds were perpetually drawn, casting the room in a dim.

Behind a cluttered desk sat George Carter, the owner of the business. He was in his late fifties, wearing a suit that had seen better days, with the sleeves just a bit too short and the collar frayed at the edges. His glasses perched low on his nose, and his hair was thin and graying, but his eyes still held a certain sharpness—an awareness of everything around him, even in this faded, forgotten corner of the city.

The air was thick with the scent of old coffee and paper, the kind of smell that clung to everything in the room, from the yellowed bookshelves stacked haphazardly with files to the old wooden chair that creaked when George shifted in it. He had been working at a big case for 13 hours straight, with his so-called breaks consisting of smoking a cig over the documents, his mind wondering:

" If only I could have a more interesting life, If only I had one more chance"-as his lights went out.

[initiating Tamer System]-....3%...18%...$ERROR&-[user detected as dead]....[rewriting]...[R3V1V4L Protocol Initiated]..[Loading Completed]

-Young master, are you awake?We have been so worried (is all I could hear before I lost my consciousness)