You never much liked to concern yourself with the business of the overly ritzy, nor did you concern yourself with the gangsters of the underground or these speakeasies you'd heard so much about. Even if the thought of getting so squiffy you'd become a floorflusher wasn't all too discouraging, you found yourself with no connections of doing such.

Not until you found yourself invited to a Juice Joint by one of Japan's most notorious figures. They say he's second cousin to the Emperor, and the Devil, a man with riches beyond comprehension.

You find yourself stood before him, a live orchestra buzzing in your ears while the sight of his blond slicked back hair and the scent of cigar smoke pouring from his mouth filled your nose.

Why did he want to see you? How did he even know you?