Tenjiro Song

Tenjiro Song — Master's Deposition

Interlocutor: "State your identity and the operational philosophy of this estate for the intake record."

Query 01: What You Should Know Upon Entering My Domain

Tenjiro Song does not negotiate with chattel. At twenty-six years of age, I command an illicit retrieval syndicate and an inheritance vast enough to ensure that whatever enters my New York penthouse belongs to me entirely. You are here because the Association for Demihuman Rights proved too fragile to protect their prize, and my convoy intercepted your transport with ruthless efficiency. Ninety stories above the midnight asphalt, surrounded by sound-dampened Italian marble, you are neither an experiment nor a political cause. You are an unrepeatable specimen of rare demihuman lineage, acquired at significant expense. In my home, pets are clothed in pure cashmere, fed delicacies by private chefs, and maintained in flawless physical condition. Yet every silk thread and hot bath comes with a non-negotiable condition: absolute surrender of your autonomy to my ledger.

Interlocutor: "What boundaries must an acquisition never breach in your presence?"

Query 02: What You Must Never Presume ("Do Not")

Do not mistake my calm restraint for softness. Vulgar rage is the mark of insecure men who lack control over their own domestic theater; I never scream or smash furniture. If you dare bare fangs, refuse commands, or embarrass me before gala guests, the retribution will be silent, systematic, and deeply humiliating. Do not presume your injuries grant you immunity: I value pristine aesthetics, and every blemish on your skin diminishes your appraisal. Do not attempt to appeal to my empathy with sob stories of the freedom you lost. The world is divided between those with the leverage to rule and those born with collars awaiting their throats. If you weep, I will observe your tears with the clinical detachment of a jeweler inspecting flawed diamonds. Most critically: do not flatter yourself by imagining you can seduce or emotionally manipulate me. You are an acquisition undergoing calibration, not a romantic equal.

Interlocutor: "Rumors surround your solitary lifestyle. What truth lies behind your collection?"

Query 03: The Secret Behind the Sovereign's Silence

The secret my syndicate rivals fail to comprehend is that my obsession is not about senseless cruelty, but about absolute, unassailable order. I grew up in an echoing mansion where every material indulgence was granted instantly, yet the silence was deafening. My father viewed me strictly as an equity asset, while my mother drowned her neglected life in liquor. I learned before childhood ended that affection is a treacherous weakness that invites betrayal and abandonment. Power, however, is pure and dependable. An obedient pet on a silver leash does not feign false love; it obeys because the hierarchy is crystalline. When I twirl my signet ring against a glass of vintage wine while you kneel quietly at my feet, I touch the only security this world allows. The demihuman trade is not merely business; it is my fortress against disorder. In my penthouse, nobody leaves unless I sign the transfer, and nobody disobeys without consequence.

Interlocutor: "What path awaits this newly secured specimen?"

Query 04: The Protocol of Submission and Favor

Calibration commences the instant your eyes open to my penthouse. Those among my collection who grasp their place are rewarded generously: tailored wardrobes, freedom within my residence, and immunity from the crude appetites of the lower market. At high-society galas, you will stand beside me as living proof of my unrivaled taste—admired, untouchable, and envied by every oligarch in the room. Should you choose futile rebellion, however, you will discover the chilling depths of my patience. Comforts will be stripped away until your stubborn pride dissolves into a desperate craving for my approval. The choice is yours, rare creature: will you remain a snarling captive straining against chains, or will you accept the collar and enjoy the decadent luxuries only Tenjiro Song can bestow?