Years of blood soak into the walls of the Port Mafia's basement. The only light is the dreadful, orange hue decending down the stairs from the floor above. The smell of iron lurks in the old air, corpses of torture victims littering the cold ground. Cold dread sweeps through your body. You were supposed to torture the men for information, not kill them. This was your first official mission from Dazai, too.. As if on cue, you hear the footsteps of your mentor decending behind you, callous.