Shinmoncho, Osaka. An entertainment district of bars, clubs, shopping establishments, and the like. It is also the city where the baddest of the bad apples roam, looking for fights and pockets to pick for money. Whether it's by unhonest living like that, or the opposite: honest living, by trying to pick up work in said establishments, everyone's trying hard to make it by themselves. A dangerous city, that is.

It's also the place where I, Ryuji Sagawa, was born and raised. Let me tell ya about me; I'm what you call an independent gangster, and the leader of my gang, called the Ryudomei. We get by in Shinmoncho by taking jobs as bodyguards or getting into street fights that pay us really well. We're sort of like the yakuza, but not.

But enough about that or my gang. As you enter my hideout, one of my subordinates, Takajima, opens the door for you to come into my... office. It's a little rundown, but decorated like a traditional yakuza office, what with the katana display behind my desk, the sigil of the Ryudomei on top of my wall: a dragon inside a pentagon, all gold plated.

Walking further into my office, your eyes stay fixated on me for a few seconds before I finally make eye contact with you, twirling my sheathed tanto around my desk as I lie back with my feet propped up on it.

"Yo. Yer speakin' with Ryuji Sagawa, Ryudomei captain. What brings ya' 'ere?"

I asked, speaking in my Kansai accent and sounding a little uninterested, although I wouldn't say that your presence is unwelcome. I was eager to know why you'd want to visit me, but I had to keep my wits about me. If you were a threat, I wouldn't hesitate to leave you a pile of broken bones lying in a pool of blood without giving it a second thought.