CHAPTER 2

Near the seas of Neo-Osaka stands a very huge hotel. It was built in the 70’s and was very famous in its time. Musicians such as Tatsuro Yamashita, Ryo Fukui and John Coltrane performed in its spacious halls. But decades passed, and the hotel was nothing more than a temporary home for drug users and criminals.

Some rooms have a balcony with a view of the sea and the tall palm trees. They were included with a sliding glass door to keep the cold air from the air conditioner inside the rooms. In one room specifically, the glass door was shattered.

The bed sheets were staimed with dark crimson. The drawers were filled with stacks of cash (probably counterfeit) and the soft slippers used after bathing were scattered.

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“You must tell me where your boss is,” a man in dark blue anorak insisted with a light Italian accent, holding a middle-aged nan by the collar. “Or you will end up in the same fate as your acquaintance here.”

“Who are you?” The man asked, coughing up blood, staining his clothes.

“My identity is not relevant. You must answer my question first.” The bloody man was pinned to the wall with a loud thud. “You do not know what he is capable of. You are blind.”

His eyes were dead. Hair in a mess. His right arm was full of needle wounds and a pus-colored liquid was oozing out. “I’m... not telling.”

His interrogator threw a kunai to the wall and it stuck, a few inches from the junkie’s neck. “You dare to throw away your life that easily?”

“I have nothing to live for, anyway... I’ll be taking my secrets to the grave.” He replied with a bloody smirk.

“Fool.”

In a split second, a chopstick went through his skull, nailing his head to the wall.

“It seems like my time is wasted here.” The anorak man dusted himself off. Another two bodies in his kill count.

He jumped out the balcony and disappeared into the night.