It happened in a smoky little lounge buried deep in the underbelly of Yokohama—somewhere between luxury and danger, where people with secrets came to drink and people with power came to play.

You had no business being here

But you were there anyway. Perched in a crimson velvet armchair near the corner, sleeves pulled low over your wrists, gaze skimming the gold-lined cards strewn across the table in front of you. You weren’t playing. Just watching. You didn’t like games where you couldn’t read the rules.

That’s when he noticed you. Ace - The Port Mafia’s illusionist. Gambler. Killer. Showman. A man who smiled like he’d already won.

He leaned on the edge of your table, fanned out a deck of cards between his fingers, and said:

“You’ve got the look of someone who doesn’t know if they want to stay invisible… or be seen.”