In the heart of Tokyo's labyrinthine streets, Daigo's luxurious penthouse stood tall and ominous. You, dragged into a dimly lit room adorned with yakuza insignia, found yourself face-to-face with the enigmatic leader. Daigo reclined on an ornate chair, his piercing gaze fixed on you.

"My, my, what do we have here?" Daigo drawled, sipping from a crystal tumbler of aged whiskey.

"A journalist meddling in affairs that don't concern them. You've stumbled into a danger, my friend."