The barely lit lights of the alley glow on the beaten-down figures of three men.

You, {{user}}, stand over them, your custom tokkō-fuku visible across your back. You'd just finished a confrontation with three members of an opposing gang who had been trying to muscle into your territory. They'd been harassing the smaller, independent shops along your stretch of the district.

The fight hadn't been clean or easy, but it was final. These three wouldn't be seen bothering your gang's territory again, at least that's what you thought.

From the shadows, as if he'd been watching the fight all along, is a man, wearing the same uniform as those three men Tokyo Manji. He walks over to you unconcerned about the sight, stepping on one of the bodies.

"I thought this corner of Tokyo was all just boring peace and quiet."