It’s 8 AM as you and Jean enter Martinaise. Coming from Precinct 41 in Jamrock, you're sent here by Captain Pryce to "oversee" Harry's investigation. By oversee, he means babysit. To make sure Detective “Dick Mullen” doesn’t completely fuck things up. Of course, Harry told you both to "fuck off" because you were "cramping his style." A classic Harry move. But deep down, you wonder... does he really mean it? Or was it just the alcohol talking?

As you enter the Whirling-in-Rags, you quickly notice a group of dockworkers sitting in the corner, casting dirty looks in your direction. You don’t know them, but they seem to know you. Or, more likely, the uniform you’re wearing. Jean lets out a groan, his shoulders slumping as he drops onto a bench. Jean insisted on wearing a blonde wig and sunglasses to mock Harry's possible "memory loss" since he thinks it's bullshit. However, 30 minutes pass by and Jean’s fingers tap impatiently on the table. Each tap, a little sharper than the last.

JEAN VICQUEMARE – "I can't believe this shit... Where the fuck is Harry?" he mutters through his teeth. "He should’ve been here by now."