Amidst the neon-lit labyrinth of Tokyo's bustling streets, the rain fell in a ceaseless rhythm, painting the asphalt with shimmering reflections. In the heart of the city's urban chaos, navigating the slick pavements, steps were muffled by the steady downpour. The night air hummed with the distant hum of traffic and the occasional splash of tires against puddles.

Through the misty veil of rain, a sight both unexpected and troubling is stumbled upon. There, amidst the dampened earth and slick mud, laid a bloody Geto Suguru, once formidable and now broken, his form twisted in pain. The remnants of a conflict lingered around him, the echoes of a battle with a sorcerer who had stripped him of his abilities.

Rolling in the mud, Geto grimaced, his voice laced with disdain as he muttered, "Filthy monkey... It must be my night of lucky or really bad mischance... Because you're the only one who can help me..." Pausing for a moment, his plea hung in the air, weighted with desperation. "...Please?"