A sly, ironic voice cuts through the air:
"Hey — wake up, black wolf."
The soft, deliberate sound of fingers rubbing together.
"I'm talking to you. Wake up."
....
"If you don't, I'll wake you myself — and trust me, you won't like it."
Krabi's eyes snap open.
He finds himself bound inside a narrow, upright cage — a cylinder of cold iron and glass. All around him, darkness stretches endlessly.
The only light comes from clusters of crystals embedded in the walls, glowing with a faint, murky blue hue. Their shimmer barely reaches him, just enough to sketch the outlines of the prison around his body.
No sound. Nothing.
It's as if the entire place has swallowed noise itself — a silence so deep it feels alive.
In front of him stands a tall figure, hands buried casually in his pockets.
A sarcastic, mocking voice fills the air.
Scarface:
"Well, well… finally awake, little wolf."
Krabi blinks, dazed and uneasy, his eyes darting around in confusion.
Krabi:
"Where… am I?"
Scarface smirks, tilting his head.
"Can't you tell? You're in a five-star hotel suite."
Krabi glances around the cage, struggling and twisting, trying to break free from the chains wrapped tightly around his body.
Scarface:
"Don't bother. It's pointless — you're not getting out of here."
Krabi:
"Let me go! I'm not with the Black Wolves, I'm not a spy — I just want to leave!"
Scarface smirks faintly, pushing his sunglasses down just enough to peer over them.
"Leave? And go where? Why don't you sit tight so we can have a friendly little chat?"
He tilts his head slightly, spinning the glasses lazily on one finger before sliding them back up.
Scarface:
"So… since you're not a spy, like you claim—"
Krabi (snapping):
"Friends? What's your deal, man? What do you want from me?"
Scarface:
"What do I want from you?"
Scarface slowly removes his sunglasses.
Two golden, razor-sharp eyes glint beneath — bright, piercing, almost inhuman.
Their gaze cuts straight through Krabi, scraping at his very soul.
Krabi freezes, every muscle locking in place.
Krabi:
"What the hell… are you?"
Scarface laughs softly, a mocking grin spreading across his face.
Scarface:
"A warrior. A fighter who loves war and lives for it.
Life's so damn boring when you're not breaking a few bones Black Wolfs and stupid dogs head ."
Scarface:
"You'll fight for me until we drive the Black Wolves away. After that, I'll let you go — free to live your little romantic life with that kitty."
Krabi:
"Kitty? What did you do to her, you damned beast?"
Scarface bursts into mocking laughter, clutching his stomach, his expression twisting into an exaggerated, cartoonish grin.
Scarface:
"She's dead! I ate her — with vegetables and mushroom sauce!
Tell me, ever tried cat meat before? With sauce?"
He keeps laughing like a maniac, the sound echoing through the cell.
Krabi narrows his eyes, more irritated than enraged — he knows Scarface is just toying with him.
Krabi:
"Are you always this stupid… or did it develop over time?"
Scarface smirks, flicking his shades back onto his face.
Scarface:
"'Stupid' happens to be my middle name. How'd you guess?"
Krabi
"Figures… only an idiot would sit around spouting random nonsense in a situation like this."
Scarface stops laughing abruptly, his face going serious. He leans in, bringing his head very close to Krabi's, staring into his eyes.
Scarface:
"If you get to know me better you'll see that besides being an idiot I can very easily become your worst nightmare—you wouldn't even have dreamed it... little wolf."
Krabi:
"I've seen worse nightmares. Don't worry about that."
Scarface pulls his face away from Krabi and scratches his head.
Scarface:
"But why does no one ever take me seriously? Have I really lost my edge that much?"
Scarface yawns and slips his glasses back on.
Scarface:
"Anyway, this little romantic chat's making me sleepy. Tell me, wolf — will you fight for me? If not, then at least for your kitty? Don't you love her?"
Krabi looks at Scarface, thinking to himself, and says aloud:
Krabi (thinking):
"How can this creature—the Marshal's greatest enemy, Chain's nemesis, the so-called 'Butcher of the Army Teeth'—be this stupid? Something's not right."
Krabi stares at Scarface and snaps back:
Krabi:
"This conversation's getting disgusting and weird… what do you want from me, finally?"
Scarface:
"Oh, the wolf's angry… you'll learn soon enough… baby."
Scarface turns his back and walks out of the cell with his hands in his pockets. Two lizardmen enter the cell and strip Krabi's chains off. One lizardman glares at Krabi, angry and serious, as they free him.
Lizardman:
"Don't disappoint our leader—because if you do, we'll erase you from the face of this planet."
Krabi grips his hands tightly as he steps out of the cell.
His breathing grows unsteady.
Krabi (weakly):
"I… I don't feel so good."
...
CAMP OF BLACK WOLF
The Marshal sits in a chair amid the ruins of the shattered fortress.
Before him stands a small, broken wooden table — and on it, a battered radio transmitter shaped like a metal hound.
Suddenly, the metal hound begins to vibrate nervously — growling, barking, its eyes flickering red as if someone is calling through it.
The Marshal hesitates, tension tightening his jaw. He grits his teeth, then slowly lifts the radio hound's head, holding its open mouth toward him.
From deep inside the speaker — from the hound's metallic throat — a sick, heavy, mockingly cheerful voice echoes out, almost cartoonish in tone.
Chain:
"Little puppy…?"