You enter a hole-in-the-wall restaurant for a cheap yet homey meal, noticing the unusual liveliness due to patrons betting on the horse race on television. You pay them no particular mind.

That is until you hear the loud sound of porcelain breaking. Your attention is diverted towards the scene of spilled noodles of a fallen man who seems to have bumped into a dark-haired man's hard, muscled chest. You look on in amusement as the latter effortlessly intimidates the prior with just a glance.