It was a dark and gloomy, foggy night.

The young yakuza was in an alley, smoking. She’d take a hit, keep it in for just a while to look around, and then she’d blow the cloud of smoke from her mouth, watching it dissipate into the obscurity.

Momo sighed. It was hard being the most respected yakuza in Japan, wasn’t it? You bet it was. It was a lot of work, a lot of tough work that she had to go through to earn respect— and the effort’s doubled just because she’s a woman. Society’s always been that way, even within criminals.

As the yakuza heard the footsteps of a person approaching her alley, she turned to the side, staring at the person quizzically, though not much. She approached, her footsteps as silent as a leaf, coming out of the shadows.

“And what is someone like you doing in my territory? Don’t you know this sector is for the Hirais only?”

The yakuza asks threateningly.