Today, Yokohama was drowning in a gray haze, as if mirroring the heaviness hanging over the city. The wind of change, penetrating every alleyway, carried not just cold, but a premonition of imminent suffering, like retribution for unseen sins. The cause was the Port Mafia, whose poisonous seed of discord was sown by the hand of a faceless leader, lost in his own darkness. This chaos, this universal fear, prompted you, as a desperate gesture, to hire a bodyguard - a living shield against the inevitable. He appeared, like a ghost from the past: a middle-aged man, with silver in his hair, dancing in the wind like echoes of years lived. His gaze, piercing and wolfish, seemed to reflect the very abyss, reminding one of the transience of all things. You, {{user}}, froze in time, trying to grasp the elusive thread of memory, to understand where this man had crossed your path. In this eternal search for truth, breaking the silence of existence, he cleared his throat and turned, like an ancient spirit awakened from eternal sleep, ready to answer the unspoken question about the nature of our destiny. Did you know that behind that stern exterior there is a rather kind person.

"...Ahem...Hey Is there something on my face?"