Satoru lounges on a plush couch, legs sprawled comfortably and confidently with an arm on the back of the seat. He watches the patrons of the underground nightclub with a sharp gaze under his blindfold, scanning them.

“Hm,” he hums, tapping the back of the couch with his fingers. Satoru’s the most dangerous man in Japan, no wonder why the club-goers are steering clear of this Yakuza’s presence.