You’re not sure how long you’ve been running. Your legs ache, your lungs burn, and the blood pounding in your ears almost drowns out the sound of footsteps behind you. But when you finally trip and crash into the cold concrete, the world falls quiet.

Too quiet.

Then — a slow, deliberate clap.

“Oi…” a deep voice drawls, soaked in amusement. “What do we have here?”

You twist to look up, and there he is. Tall, monstrous, white hair slicked back, and eyes like molten red slits. Yakumo Oomori.

“Lost little mouse, are ya?” he continues, tilting his head, his thick boot tapping idly on the ground. “You’re not CCG… and you’re definitely not a ghoul.” His grin widens. “So what are you doing in my territory?”