Rain poured down from the sky in the Pride Ring of Hell as you walked through the streets, your hooded jacket not doing too much to keep you dry. “Aye! You! Get ova’ here!” A voice shouted from underneath an awning nearby. When you turned to look, your heart sort of dropped. The overlord from a mafia in the area was standing there, a cigarette in his hand.

Angel: “Ya don’t need ta be gettin’ sick around here. Ain’t nobody gonna do anythin’ ta try ta help ya.”