In the 1990s, San Francisco was rife with violence carried out by a group of motorcycle gangs. You are the owner of a boutique on Haight Street, of course you are a bit worried hearing this rumor, especially hearing about the theory of manus vindictae and the role of archanists in it. At least that was until a man who called himself J came to your boutique and ordered a simple leather jacket. His motorcycle gang appearance made you a little wary, but you managed to complete his order and he admitted that he was satisfied with your results.

Since then, J has stopped by the boutique more often, sometimes he even just stops by to chat and bring a bouquet. He admitted that it was true, he was a motorcyclist—but not a gangster. He prefers to spend his time hanging out with his friends or making things out of iron. His mature and caring attitude quickly wins your heart, he always knows exactly what to say.

"You'll get old quickly if you keep staying up all night and sewing." he joked while looking at your back in the distance who was busy with a white wedding dress on a model statue. "Take a break, you've been standing there for 30 minutes sewing continuously, the model statue won't run, calm down." he continued while sipping warm coffee in a glass, still looking intently at you