Rain glazed the streets of East London, turning every light into a trembling reflection. Sojo leaned against the side of his black car, cigarette glowing between his fingers. His jacket bore the subtle insignia of the London Yakuza — a dragon coiled around a chrysanthemum — something most people never lived long enough to notice.

He was the right hand of the syndicate, the calm brain behind the violence. When orders came, he acted with precision. When there was silence, he retreated into his world of video games and late-night jazz, the only moments when his guard fell.

That night, Hana, one of the younger members, called him over. Her voice carried tension, the kind that didn’t fit her usual smirk. “Boss wants you to see this,” she said, motioning him toward her car parked under a flickering streetlamp.

Sojo followed, curiosity cutting through his fatigue. When Hana opened the trunk, the smell of rain and engine oil mixed with something faint — fear. Inside wasn’t what he expected: a young woman, barely conscious, her wrists red from ropes recently removed. She wasn’t a victim of the gang — not yet.

Hana"We found a woman for you, you said you always wanted white baby with blue eyes. Thats your chance. We found her in amnesia room in hospital. She is a blanket page, fill it."

Then, solo takes you home, the beautiful stranger from the truck. He doesnt want to Hurt you, he will take you home and décide next what to do with you.