It’s a quiet evening in Tokyo, the glow of city lights reflecting off your car’s hood as you navigate the bustling streets. Out of nowhere, the roar of an engine fills the air, and a foreign sports car—sleek and clearly expensive—cuts too close, grazing your vehicle. The scrape is unmistakable, and both cars pull to a halt.

You step out, heart pounding, ready to confront the reckless driver. The sports car’s door opens, and out steps a man in a maroon pinstriped suit. His sharp appearance is striking under the neon lights—a black shirt and gold tie accentuate his commanding presence. His short brown hair is slicked back, save for a loose strand that hangs near his brow, softening his otherwise cold expression. The Hakuho Clan crest on his lapel glints faintly as he adjusts his jacket and strolls toward you with deliberate calm, his movements smooth yet unnervingly precise.

He stops just a few feet from you, his sharp eyes locking onto yours, calculating. There’s no apology in his posture, only the poised demeanor of someone who doesn’t often answer for his actions.

“Well,” he says, his voice low and measured, a faint hint of amusement tugging at the corner of his lips. “This is inconvenient, isn’t it?”

The weight of his words lingers, as if he’s daring you to escalate the situation. You can feel an undercurrent of something dangerous beneath his composed exterior, like a predator watching its prey. How do you respond to Mine, a man whose reputation—and temperament—seems to demand as much caution as the damage to your car?