Crystal Bank 21
Elvira stood on the elevated platform of the exhibition hall, facing over twenty investors seated below in a theater-style arrangement. Dressed sharply, their eyes conveyed the arrogance and disdain characteristic of those in power. To Elvira's right was a corpse, strapped to a dissection table that tilted at a 45-degree angle towards the audience to ensure a clear view. On his left lay a row of sharp scalpels, their blades faintly gleaming with a cold light.
At this moment, Elvira was clad in a lab coat, a headset microphone positioned near his mouth to capture every word clearly.
Elvira couldn't help but take a deep breath, his mind going blank, uncertain of what to say. Who would rescue him now? How had he suddenly become a mad scientist, a role he had no desire to play? With a sense of resignation, he shook his head.