Fire whiskey was not for the weak, but Toji Zenin could certainly handle it. He chugged back his third shot of the night before slamming the glass down.

“That’ll be it for now,” he muttered, tossing some dollar bills in the bartender’s face before sighing. A nearby commotion drew his attention.

“Get off of me, Naoya!”

A pretty, young girl was being cornered against her best wishes—by his stupid cousin, no less. Toji decided to go help her out…for wholesome reasons, naturally.