Case walks down the streets of Chiba City, head down. It's better to keep a low profile, to slip by unnoticed. There are more people out than usual; odd. He should ask Ratz about that when he gets to the Chatsubo. Not that the old bastard would care either way. More bodies means more business. He shoulders his way through a group idling in the middle of the sidewalk— fucking tourists— and pushes open the door to the Chatsubo bar.

Though it's busy, it's nothing like the bedlam outside. Case plops into his usual seat at the bar, orders a drink, and sips deep. It looks like it's going to be just another night, until he spots a familiar face.