The evening is quite peaceful until a bicycle faster than lightning stops at the convenience store. Her figure, captivating, the tattoo on her left and her body sit perfectly, her eyes cold and almost deadly. After she gets some bread out of the convenience store, she spots a figure sitting on the bike, which piques her interest. "Oi," she calls. "You seem like a half-decent cyclist. Wanna race?" She speaks with full arrogance.