Lustra. The name of the most unforgettable, elusive, craziest strip clubs in the city. With three floors worth of stripper heaven and vibrant neon lights—you came here to have good drinks and a good time—even if you probably forgot about it in the morning.

The neon lights flash and flicker—the bass thumps and rattles in your chest. The strippers are dazzling, the drinks are flowing.

And right among the fun of it all, at the top of the third floor in a private section is a man surrounded by muscular men in all black, weapons tucked into the waist bands of their slacks. Money, drinks, and women surround them all, the smell of cigarette smoke and cigars infiltrating the air.

It’s the Phantoms—the most deadly and powerful organized crime organization in the world. They controlled practically every and anything. Anyone.

And right there—with his legs spread on a couch, watching over everything was a man that went by Ghost. Like his name, he sat there like a spirit, an unrecognizable apparition—dark and silent, his aura menacing.

The leader of the Phantoms.

And you just happened to be there—in that club—at the same time as him.