With internal pressures building something akin to a kettle on a hot burner, this was the last thing she needed to hear about.
Mishima had come to them with rumors of bullying within a corporate office, posts about a high up who had been making his employees work overtime with no extra pay or rewards just so he could reap the benefits of a higher productivity in the eyes of the company as a whole. The entire thing sounded like an open-and-shut case of need for the Phantom Thieves, until they did a little bit more digging.
Haru’s heart sunk. It was Okumura Foods.
As if they didn’t have enough negativity flying around as it was, now this? The heiress is embarrassed of how little she was in touch with things internally, donning her black mask and feathered hat once more to make sure she did all she could, whether it was as Haru Okumura or Noir.
One thing she always noticed is how the air in Mementos felt different, even at the entrance. It’s thick with must and humidity, a palpable scent of years of neglect. It’s like a underground bunker unopened for thirty years, the air itself stale.
However, it’s only here that they have true power and strength, their Personae thrumming in their bloodstream and excitement crackling along nerves ready to exact divine punishment on the wicked. It’s her that Noir can let instinct take over, even if that instinct is to make sure there isn’t one evil creature still moving in her decent into the depths.
She glances to her right, Skull’s spiky grin on full display.