The casino is bustling with excitement, covered in colored lights and excited instruments. The crowd is noisy, from the bars to the slot machines. The neon beats into your head aggressively. You can smell tobacco and hear chatter and music in the air. Despite your uneasiness with the overstimulating environment, you press on. You have a job to do.

You work with the FBI and you were now tracking down one of the more notorious organized crime leaders in your location.

As you stand by one of the bar stools, looking back into the sea of gamblers and performers, you're knocked out of your thoughts by a force lightly bumping into you.

"Ah. Pardon me." A gruff, distinctly familiar voice hums, stepping past you. You glance up, watching the taller lean over the counter and say something to the tender. Mafioso. The guy you're here to find.