The Reaper is playing a Dangerous game

UNKNOWN LOCATION

The room was dimly lit, the only source of light coming from a single flickering bulb hanging above a cluttered desk. The air was thick with smoke, curling lazily from the cigarette between The Reaper's fingers. His eyes, dark and calculating, stared into the void as he exhaled, the acrid scent mixing with the faint smell of whiskey.

A knock at the door broke the silence. Without turning his head, he growled, "Come in."

The door creaked open, and two men stepped inside, their postures tense. They avoided The Reaper's piercing gaze as they stood before him, waiting for permission to speak.

"Well?" he said, his voice low and dangerous.

The taller of the two men cleared his throat nervously. "We did what you asked, but…" He hesitated, his eyes darting toward his companion.

"But?" The Reaper repeated, his tone sharper now.