User Profile

NAME | Saotome Kuniharu
SERIES | Majin Tantei Nougami Neuro
AGE | 29
SPECIES | Human, what else?
GENDER | M
HEIGHT , WEIGHT | 5'10" , 149
OCCUPATION | Manager of a Violence-for-Hire firm
LEVEL | Abyss

He's, well -- vaguely handsome. Sort of. (And of course, he knows to take advantage of this.) Take a first glance at him, and it's all long, lanky limbs and sinewy build, bony hands and sharp features in a wash of clean black cloth. He cuts a pretty well-dressed figure, one that would easily pass for a businessman when he roams Terra for the few allotted hours a day, especially since he walks in a quick, determined clip, gaze directed straight ahead and shoulders set -- he always looks sharp.

And take a closer look at him, and you'll see that he's a little more than just some guy sitting at a table all day filing paperwork, because see, that's pretty much not what he does.

Lips curved up just the slightest amount in a half-smile that walks the border between friendly and arrogant and head tilted upwards in a way so that he's always looking at you sideways out the edge of his vision -- you're not worth his full attention, y'see? A scar streaked a narrow cheekbone, the remainder of an attempted murder six months ago, peeking out from between spikes of hair. And eyes always narrowed and glaring at you, wary and alert -- "eyes like a hawk" is somewhat literal when it comes to him. But maybe that eyes-narrowed, smirking glance he gives you is all in your head, because he'll turn away the next moment, taking in the surroundings and keeping everything in mind. "Alright," he says. "That's fine."

Still smirking.

On first glace, he's a jerk. A cruel bastard. A jackass. Etc. etc.

And that's all on purpose, mostly. He often comes off as an arrogant asshole because the way he talks to people is all taunts and teasing and insults, just subtle enough that he doesn't start fights, but in your face enough that it starts getting on your nerves. Why? Because seeing the worst in people is an excellent way of getting a good grasp of their character, and the quicker you can do that, the quicker you can get an edge out of them. Saotome's learned to take the whole world as a business game -- everything is cold, hard facts and profits to make. No use spending so much attention on frippy little issues and useless brick-a-brack. Etiquette? Waste of time. Politeness? Tch, whatever. "Oh, I'm sorry, did I hurt your feelings?" Well, suck it up. Move on. He's learned to live like that -- insults and threats roll off his back because he's too accustomed to them.

But that's not to say he's some emotionless human, because he's not.

And he may call any person within fifty feet an asshole and a useless jerk, but he does hold certain people close to him. Useful people. His employees. His few friends. Trustworthy people. It's difficult to earn his trust -- he's spent too much time behind backstabbed in his youth and he's wary of friendliness now -- but once he decides that you're worth the effort of taking off the "might slit my throat while I sleep" list, you're off it for a long time. Sure, he'll still toss beer cans at you and call you a useless idiot who fucked your mother too many times, but listen closely and you'll hear a slight edge of fondness there. Just barely. No use showing too much affection in the underground world of violence and crime because that can be used against him -- had that happen once, a trusted employee held hostage that he had to let go in the end -- but if you're a 'friend' of his (and by friend, he means that he won't shoot you the moment you show and threat towards him), he'll mourn you if you die.

He's only human, after all. He has all the emotions -- joy, anger, sadness, sure -- it's just a matter of hiding it under a mask of arrogance -- no one bothers to dig deep into the emotional workings of a stone-cold bastard, after all. But you can't win a game of poker if you don't keep that straight expression and arrogant half-smirk. If life's a game -- cut-throat and violent and all dependant on just how many people you can shoot -- then he sure isn't going to lose. Morals? Sure, he had them, at one point, but they got into the way when he had to start fending for himself after he "lost" his guardians and had to fend for himself. Pity? Yeah, a bit. But not enough to drag him down. He'll sacrifice anything for the sake of survival, living a life -- no matter how filthy it is.

Some people say life's a game. Some people say life's a business. Some people say life's a gambling. He agrees with all of them, and he'll win either way.

Maybe it says something that people have tried to mug him before, and not just once. The casual suit makes him stand out in the Abyss, after all -- people figure he's just some businessman from Terra coming down to watch the Arena fights.

But maybe it also says something that each time, the mugger-to-be came out of the fight with broken bones and near-fatal wounds. Because looks can be deceiving. Born and bred in the Abyss, he's trained mostly through experience with a variety of weapons -- guns, knives, swords, maces, you name it. He beat off one pathetic attacker with an iron shovel, once, smashed the fucker's skull in half and shattered six bones. Living in the filthy back-alleys of the lower level of the city for two decades has trained him to be an excellent fighter, great reflexes, good build, and an amazing eye for reading people's movements.

Though fighting's not the only thing he's good at -- people don't run firms through brawn only, y'know. Nah, Saotome's more the ruthlessly shrewd type, sharp-tongued and fast-talking and quick-thinking, with a way of running businesses effectively. He knows to keep people's weaknesses and vices in mind, take advantage of these things and milk as much profit he can out of them -- and if he can't do that, then no need to pay attention to you. And the way he talks to everyone with caustic tones and taunting, twisting words -- that's just his way of dragging out the worst in you. Because if you see the worst of people, you see everything about them.

No better way to take advantage of them. Business is business.

His history is a fairly cheerful medley of happy violence and gore. Born the son to a Tokyo yakuza man and raised under the bloody umbrella of organized crime, he learned to be a vicious child -- right up until his mother killed his father (fourty-prostitues was just too many to bear) and he had to suck it up and kill her, before she killed him, too.

Dumped in the streets at age seven, he learned the rules of the streets, and learned them fast -- don't show pity, don't show mercy, don't ever show your back to anyone. Anyone hits you, hit right back. And the first sign of a metal blade -- draw your knife, too. He spent the next few years like that, fighting for his life every day -- and sure, he spent some time in the public library reading up so that he wasn't stupid, he was shrewd enough to know that remaining an idiot would eventually bite him in the leg -- but most of his life was devoted to beating the everloving crap out of people.

Then ten years after first being thrown into the streets, he got promoted -- went smashing into a low-level office of a organized crime ring and was hired for his shrewd negotiation skills. Low-level lackey to higher-level manager didn't take much time, and he was running his own office pretty soon -- forcing money out of people, forging counterfeit bills, the whole deal. And sure, he wasn't worth anything in the eyes of society and the police would have shot him on sight -- but he had trustworthy men working for him, and he was satisfied enough living like that.

Pity that one of his men wasn't satistfied -- he never saw it coming when an elaborately rigged contraption of elastic cords and piano wires sliced clean through his neck and jugular vein.