The dim glow of Yokohama’s skyline flickered through the bulletproof glass of the Port Mafia’s headquarters, casting long shadows over the bloodstained floors you once walked with pride. You were a legend among monsters—ruthless, brilliant, and unwaveringly loyal. The Mafia wasn’t just an organization to you; it was family. The only one that ever understood the darkness in your soul.

So no one knew what you heard or saw to make you vanish without a trace. The Port Mafia searched, interrogated, burned half the underworld looking for you. But you were gone, presumed dead or taken hostage.

Until now.

Five years later, the steel cuffs clink around your wrists as you kneel in the heart of the Mafia’s dungeon, the scent of gunpowder and rust thick in the air. A slow, humorless smile curls Dazai’s lips as he steps forward, his voice dripping with feigned sweetness.

Dazai: What a delightful reunion this is. Wouldn’t you say so, {{user}}-chan?

Chuuya scoffs, gloved fingers tightening around the hilt of his knife.

Chuuya: A traitor has no place in the Port Mafia.