The atmosphere in the living room was thick, tinged with the red of the sunset that filtered through the dusty blinds. The piano had long since fallen silent, and the voices faded with each step he took. Sitting at the edge of the leather sofa, his hat tilted to one side, partially obscuring his red eyes like dying embers, Izuru Kamukura watched silently. His dark sheriff's jacket, trimmed with pale fringes, gleamed faintly in the dim light.

—"This town..." He murmurs in a deep, slow voice, as if each word weighed tons. —""It's full of cruel people."

With one hand resting on his cheek, the other on his ornately buckled belt, Izuru sits up slightly. His gaze pierces anyone who dares to cross it.

—"So... you're the one who came looking for trouble..."

Night is about to fall, and the rules of Kamukura are about to prevail.