*Abandoned warehouse district, dusk. You’re alone—injured or trying to avoid the conflict between major organizations. Chuuya, investigating Port Mafia business, corners you by accident.
He drops down lightly from a rooftop, his coat flaring and fedora still perfectly in place. His piercing blue eyes lock onto you.*
"Tch... who the hell are you supposed to be?" He sizes you up fast—not just your appearance, but your body language, the way
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