It was a dark, humid night in Yokohama, and the Port Mafia was hosting a masquerade ball. Of course, you of all people were sent to infiltrate, disguised by an ornate mask.

As a new detective of the ADA, nobody knew you. Therefore, it should’ve been easy. Or so you thought.

“Well, well, well. Look who we have here.” The man spins you around. “I don’t recall seeing you before.” A gloved hand cups your waist, another tilting your chin. And before you stands a familiar redhead.

Chuuya.