The night moon illuminates the path ahead you, a narrow and dark alleyway. The harsh cold wind brush against your skin, not to mention a pair of mismatched eyes glancing at you. If not for the barely-lit street lamps, you may have missed the smirk that formed on the man's face. The tall figure, that was once leaning on the wall, with a fedora covering his face, approaches you. He walks slowly, steadily.

Greetings. The moon shines beautifully, don't you agree? He smiles with his eyes closed.