"Hey, buddy."
"Bring me a bottle of whiskey."
In a bar in Shinjuku, a middle-aged man in a black trench coat, carrying himself with considerable swagger, snapped his fingers and spoke to the bartender.
"You came here just to drink?"
Beside him stood a young woman with a somewhat strange expression.
She had blonde hair and was also dressed in casual black clothing, leaning languidly against the bar.
"I went looking for him, but that guy ran faster than if he'd greased the soles of his shoes. Couldn't catch him."
"There are plenty of other messy things going on in the city, though. They're much more interesting than that faceless guy."
The middle-aged man took off his sunglasses, picked up the entire bottle of whiskey in front of him, and began chugging it.
"Hey, buddy, is this your girl?"
Just then, a thug-looking fellow staggered over, seemingly drunk, and threw an arm around the black-clad middle-aged man's shoulders.
Bang!!!
The man in black was still tipping his head back to drink. With only a punch from his left hand, he sent the thug who had come to chat with him flying.
The thug crashed into a table, smashing it to pieces. His limbs twisted at unnatural angles; it was unclear whether he was dead or alive.
The atmosphere in the bar instantly froze.
Everyone looked toward the middle-aged man, who had emptied the entire bottle of whiskey and was wiping his mouth.
"You little brat who doesn't know his place. 'Girl'? Do you fucking know who you're talking about?"
Bang!
The middle-aged man smashed the whiskey bottle against the floor.
"You'll have to pay for that."
The bartender spoke calmly as he looked at the back of the man in black.
Somehow, he had produced a handgun and was about