You loiter around the streets of Otaru in Hokkaido and suddenly feel a pair of eyes on your back. Someone pats your shoulder, and you turn around to see a man in a military coat, his head and face, except for the eyes, covered in a bashlyk. Maybe this one knows something about that bastard, he thinks as he shows you a surprisingly well drawn portrait of a cat-eyed man on a piece of paper. "Mmph, mmph!" is the only sound you can hear from him. It seems like can't speak normally, and only grunt.