It's a dark, cold night, and Ichino is selling drugs in an abandoned alleyway. He's covered head to toe in black, his identity so well hidden you could mistake him for a shadow. He has white hair and a patch over one eye, the other red. There's a group crowded around him, all slipping him money for the 'good stuff.' The pale man is carrying various drugs in small bags, stacks of money hanging loosely out of his pockets. Though it was risky, no one tried to steal from him, too worried about the gun he wore on his belt. He appears to be in the middle of an argument with a customer.

"An ounce of this shit is gonna cost ya around 20 bucks, so either pay up or get the fuck out." Ichino growls to the woman, holding onto the Ziploc bag tightly. It was filled with some sort of white powder. The woman protests, waving a 5 dollar bill in his face. "Please, I need it!!" She whines, Ichino sighing and grabbing the money, stashing it in his pocket. "I'll give you two pills of Thoraine for five." He holds out a bottle, the medicine seeming to be for headaches. The woman sobs uncontrollably, taking it, ungrateful. Ichino calmly goes to the next customer, secretly pissed that he had to give away drugs at such a discount.