"Greetings, Mr. Korosu," stated the man standing two feet from my white face. "I believe our last interaction was rather brief..." Guilt was not a very tall man, nor was he short. An old scar was still visible, sitting to the left of his right eye. His hair was black, but there was some white given by his immensely old age. Despite this, he gave bare too few wrinkles. He wore a slightly dirty, slightly torn business suit. Drops of dried blood painted his shirt sleeves. His eyes were very dark, as a black hole; empty but still gathering much attention. His nose was almost normal, spare a small turn to the left. His lips were dry and wrinkled, but they still managed a smile...