Gimme Two Fingers, Bitch!

[Testament]

This was suprisingly less fun than he had pictured it; the amazement and excitement had been all but sucked dry, pardon the pun, and now it was just hilariously boring work. Terribly dull, inexhaustibly tedious, stripper shaking her ass in his face work. Which was doubly depressing because he enjoyed the occassional ass being shaken in his face, or speaking rather honestly, he used to enjoy having the occassional ass shaken in his face but the job had somehow robbed him of the pleasure. Perhaps it was due in part to the fact that he knew he couldn't really allow himself to become carried away like when he was on personal time. He couldn't drink anything stronger than a lager and retain his utmost physical potential so most nights he wouldn't even tease himself, and stuck with water. Not to mention the fact that he had to remain sober enough to write up the report in the morning so that excluded the possibility of damn near every distraction available for purchase, inside or outside the bar, so again he spent most nights chewing gum. And the worst part was his inability to cultivate a decent conversation with the owners of the shaken asses due to him having to remain vigilant all night long. So, as a recap, he on duty in a bar which means he can neither drink, experiment with foreign substances, nor hit on the women he has to pay out of his own pocket to frustrate him sexually. Every pleasure of going to a bar was barred in addition to the fact that he had to spend hours on end with the drunkest sum bitches on that side of the Upper Yard. He really needed that fucking drink right about now.

Tenchishinmei Satsui sat at the bar of Sexy Senbonkers, one of the least prestigious drinking holes in the whole of Kaminari no Kuni, and ordered another sparkling soda water as he fought the urge to jam a kunai into his frontal lobe. The music was blasting; to quote a famous Western philosopher- "you could feel the bass in your chakras" but Satsui was trying desperately to drown out the sounds of everyone around him having a good time. He was in the worst possible spot to do this because the bar was set up in the shape of a cresent moon and acted as a catch all to every sound in the place and vomitted them right back at Satsui. Why was he sitting there? I can tell you want to know otherwise why in the hell would you have asked? He was sitting at the bar because it was made of perfectly reflective crystal or, should I say, it was built around an enormous chunk of perfectly reflective crystal when the establishment was founded a few years after Kumogakure no Sato was first inhabited. It had been much fancier back in those days as it was probably the first, and only, bar in Kumogakure at that time but declining property values had brought the unwanted elements into the neighborhood and now it was just as bad as any seedy joint one could find in Iwa, or even Kiri back in the days before the war. He could see all the debauchery going on behind him, when the lovely lady in front of him wasn't rubbing her laced up G-string in his face, which was actually quite often. He'd chosen this mission for the exact possibility of living out this exact scenario and it was coming back to bite him in the ass harder than Hoshigake on PCP. He took a sip of his drink and then motioned for the beauty to move on so he could try and clear his head for a moment.

The mission was breaking up any bar brawls that broke out but so far this week there had only been one vomitter, two kunoichi's going topless, and one underaged Genin peeing in the corner after getting loaded on White Russians. The vomitter had been thrown out, he'd spent a ridiculous amount of time speaking to the kunoichi's until the proper authorities arrived and asked why they had been allowed to remain topless for so long, and he'd beaten that Genin about the head and face with a table rag he pilfered from a waitress before sending him home to his parents. But there hadn't been an actual brawl in the almost week and a half since he'd taken the mission. Everyone must have been too busy spending their war relief checks to really get on anybody else's nerves but most people had blown through that money by the end of last week. Smart money said that as soon as everyone came down from the sweet high and realized that not all of life's problems were gone just because the war was over, somebody would throw a punch. Satsui was even prepared to be the one to get the ball rolling but then he would be out for his commission and the last ten nights would have been wasted in vain. So, with that in mind, he rubbed his temples and repeated his silent prayer to Jidaishisou to let someone lose their fucking mind before he did and massacred the entire bar. What came next seemed like divine intervention because just as he was thinking that it was as if the entire place fell silent. The DJ's tables actually skipped and the only sound one could hear in the whole place was the slow rotation of the stand. Satsui peered into the wall of crystal before him and found that everyone else had turned to the door so he spun his barstool around and followed their collective gaze.

SPOILER: Click to show

name; chaotic bar brawls
rank; b
description; Bar brawls are quite possibly the toughest brawls to break up. Everything is so chaotic and one must watch everywhere. The guy behind you could at any second throw you a strong right while the guy in front throws a strong left. People going all out with beer bottles and chairs. Well, usually bars are quite peaceful and mature but one bar in particular has fights every single day. The owner is getting sick of breaking them up and complains that it’s bad for business so he’s asking us to monitor the area and make sure fights don’t break out. Sadly, I doubt it’ll work but still, try your best to keep things civil.
reward; 100 experience, 2,500 ryo
minimum shinobi; one
mission status; interminable

[Testament]

He wasn't impressed with the new arrivals as everyone else had been and that was because he knew them personally, unlike the rest. Four individuals sauntered into the pub like they were fucking gods among men. The general population knew of them only by reputation; in the seven years since the unfortunateness in Konoha their had been a proliferation of nukenin in the shinobi world. At some point, unknown to the masses, certain squads had been formed with the objective of hunting down the criminals. These groups had more discretionary powers than normal Oinin and they operated across the natural boundaries established before the war. Sometimes, two groups from estranged countries worked in tandem but Kumo was the least likely to approve of that sort of interagency interaction. That didn't stop some of the squads created by the Raikage from hunting down shinobi who had fled from villages other than Kumo, in secret of course. The only people who had any inkling of these activities were those who witnessed the results. And, generally speaking, the only results were severe medical trauma sustained on long range missions without any support from a licensed Iryoi-nin. Satsui had been assigned to medical duties during the times of war because, at that age, he was easily controlled and would hold his tongue about the things he was seeing. Besides, if he were to tell anyone about the so-called unofficial meetings it could be written off as the vague ramblings of a young boy whose mind was suffering from sleep deprivation due to overnight shifts at the hospitals. But Satsui was smart enough to know that not all information needed to be shared.

These four men in particular were always among the ones needing extreme physical rehabilitation and Satsui was often involved because they needed to be patched up under the cover of night. They had a penchant for taking unsanctioned missions in foreign territories because that gave them the freedom to act with reckless abandon. They had all come up through the Academy together and had formed a tight-knit friendship which eventually resembled something closer to a underworld syndicate. But they kept their questionable activity in check enough to pass all background investigations and inquiries into their character. Having a four tiered alibi couldn't have hurt. But when they returned from these missions, they would always need medical attention for injuries sustained in their wildly chaotic manner of hunting, fighting, and killing. Their behavior was atrocious; they were more akin to rabid dogs than honorable shinobi and they would often berate whatever medical staff was unlucky enough to draw them as patients. Satsui remembered at least three distinct occasions when the quartet had taken issue with the quality of treatment they received and proceeded to batter the doctor or nurse responsible into the Intensive Care Unit. But that wasn't the reason that Satsui recollected these men so well. It had to do with an order passed down from one of their superiors. The man was unwilling to address the blatantly illegal actions his subordinates were taking and so, in an effort to reduce the evidence of these actions, he assigned an Iryoi-nin to accompany the group on their missions. The thought was that an active medical nin could fix them up before returning to the village. The result . . . .

Satsui's eyes narrowed even further as the men approached the bar and took over the end section, three sitting and one standing off to the left. They knew everyone in the place was watching them and they fed of the excitement of those around them without ever directly letting on. When conversation finally reconvened, the men initiated their own private exchange that seemed to be a continuation of some other interchange all together. Their confabulation was halted each time someone drew near or whenever one of them felt the need to order a drink or shout something lewd at one of the working girls. However, for the most part, the men remained largely closed off from the rest of the people in the bar which confused the hell out of Satsui. These men had always been in search of any type of accolade they could get whether it be from the public or their commanding officers. One of the reasons they preferred the more dangerous missions was because the buzz from the rumors of their activities often surpassed the verified facts of what the upstanding members of the Oinin were doing. It didn't make sense that the men weren't grabbing at the spotlight or demanding free services from the bartender of the women on duty that night. Besides, a bunch of old war horses was the last thing Satsui needed during a mission like this. His presence was meant to quell any violence that broke out but the men who'd come in would more than likely seek to stir up a vehement response. Instead of protecting the civilians, they would purpose amongst themselves to battle it out with whatever group or individuals that started a brawl.

[Testament]

Even though he hated doing civilian protection type stuff he knew it was bound to come up if he neglected it, so he began going from table to table acting as if he was a groupie for the men who'd just entered the bar. He told all the ladies that there would be an after party at another pub, approximately five miles away, and that they should bring an appetite for beads. Those that weren't interested were entirely offended and they ended up leaving anyway and since Satsui wasn't about to bust his ass looking out for no dudes, his work was done. Now he was the only sober guy at the village's lamest sausage fest and he still had to worry about the violence that might break out at any moment. He was already mentally fatigued, so much so that he decided to plop down in an empty booth and rest his hands on his head for a minute. He ran through a mental checklist of whether or not he was prepared. He'd cleared out the womenfolk and didn't expect anymore to enter since the bar was full of shitfaced guys. He had clear views of every entrance and exit so no one could rush in without his knowledge. The bartender had asked everyone who had come in that night to put their name in a bowl so if anything did go down Satsui would have the names of most of the witnesses. And other than that, Satsui was startlingly sober and completely without any form of distraction. He wished that he'd kept at least one woman around and, as usual, he found himself thinking of that girl he'd met so long ago. He remembered her name was Hirihi and that she had the most mesmerizing eyes he'd ever seen yet they'd fallen apart after their joint mission to Mt. Gekitsuu over seven years ago.

He shook his head and looked back to the bar to see if he could catch a glimpse of the douchebag Oinin who'd captured everyone's attention a while ago. When he did, he was surprised to see that they had split up and only two of them were actually seated at the bar. The others were roving to and fro around the bar as if they were seeking someone out, but every now and then they would stop at a table and speak with the men for a moment before moving on. This continued for a few minutes but ended with both men returning to the end of the bar where the group had originally set up shop. They went back to the secretive chatting but this time Satsui's sense of intrigue had been piqued. He began to analyze the men closely as certain things about them, and their presence there, just didn't seem to add up. If his memory served, and it did, these men had always refused any sort of anesthesia when the received treatment and he had often heard them making fun of their fellow Oinin who felt as though the only way to get through the job was picking up drinking. Why would four guys who looked down on those who drank be in a damn bar? I know you're wondering that exact thing right about and, if so, you're in good company since Satsui was too. Which brought him back to his earlier musings on their reasons for being there; Satsui knew these men to a certain extent and he was quite positive that they were not the sort of men who kept a low profile but that's exactly what they'd been doing since they arrived. It simply wasn't in their nature to be so quiet and reserved but Satsui had observed just that and the change made him all the more suspicious of the quartet.

[Testament]

His suspicions were correct, though he knew not how, and were confirmed by taking closer observations of each one. Satsui's previous scrutinization of the four had been clouded by his personal thoughts and the history he had with them. Upon more explicit studying he perceived that each of them were bulging in key areas which told the tell-tale story of body armor concealed underneath the civilian clothing. Which was another point that stood out when he thought about it. These guys were Oinin with authority that approached the highest clearance in their organization, so why were they in a bar without at least donning their uniforms? Finally, these guys weren't the type to be conversing with their fellow man due largely to the fact that they were assholes who felt everyone was beneath them. If they had a dialog with someone outside their group it was mostly them talking at that person, not to them. So their mini-repartees with the other men in the bar didn't make a damn bit of sense either. The more he looked at it, the more Satsui became convinced that these four men and their presence there was not something ordinary. Their intent and purpose was unknown but the collective character of the group was not and from what Satsui knew about them and the way they operated, their actions were out of line. This was the first time since he'd taken the mission that he'd seen something so irregular and even though it wasn't what he'd been waiting for, he wasn't about to overlook it. Perhaps, it was no coincidence that these men had shown up on this particular night. It had been exactly ten days since the ninth brawl; Satsui's analytical mind recalled the last one had occurred nine days after the eighth and so on and so forth.

Reluctant to dismiss everything he'd seen as happenstance, Satsui rose from the booth and fought through the crowd to reach the bar once more where he reclaimed his perch in his original seat. He thought that being closer to the group would increase his chances of gaining some relevant data pertaining to the presence at Senbonkers. It had been years since he'd seen them all in one place but he remembered them well. The tallest and leanest member was a man by the name of Shishou Warugi and he held the title of group strategist. The man sitting directly to his right was none other than Yunchoi Kazetora and he was arguably the best close quarters fighter in the Oinin division. His brother, Yunchoi Autoro, was seated beside him and was gazing off into the distance as he more than likely envisioned new Genjutsu to use on his foes. The last man, who was evidently still the big boss in the group was known as Urekami Kurai, and he listened silently as the tactician at the end spoke quietly about some new top that had the two brothers riled up. Satsui knew that to approach them, even indirectly, would be to reveal himself and once that had happened he might lose track of them so that was not something he was willing to risk. He did his best to block out the deluge of sound that invaded his ears but finally had to resort to lip reading, which proved somewhat useful. Warugi said something about 'forced retirement' and suddenly Satsui knew why none of the men were wearing their uniforms. Someone had finally grown a pair and was forcing the ne'er-do-wells out of the Corps which was, . . . nice but so much less than the bastards deserved.

[Testament]

Distracted and emotionally uneven, Satsui's surveillance of the group was finally spotted by the leader and Yunchoi Autoro was dispatched with but a nod from the same. The man moved toward Satsui with a subtle gait that an experienced shinobi could tell was mild reserve as if he wasn't sure that his course of action was correct. And at the last moment, when he was close enough to reach out and touch Satsui, the man veered off course and approached a table of merchant traders newly arrived in Kaminari no Kuni after an expeditionary sojourn. The men were obviously drunk and seemed to be waiting for something themselves, and as Autoro neared their table they all stiffened unnaturally. Words were exchanged, unheard by any others, and as quickly as he'd come the man departed to return to his own group of friends. Satsui could have sworn the man chuckled on his way back to his seat though. He had little time to ponder the source of the man's amusement; he felt a hard tap on his shoulder and turned back to find the same group of men Autoro had just spoken to standing half a dozen deep behind him. They all had a minutely confused look in their eyes signaling they weren't exactly firm in what they were doing and yet they were powerless to stop.

"You shouldn't be so nosy, kid. Grown folks don't like having whippersnappers crowded into their business and listening in to their conversations." The man who'd made contact spoke with an uneven voice but he kept Satsui's gaze the entire time.

"You know those guys?", Satsui asked- doubting before he'd even heard an answer.

"I, uh, . . . know them. Of course I do. And my buddy told me you've been a bit too interested in his conversations." When the man began to falter Satsui's eyes shifted to Autoro and observed the man making a slight hand gesture just as the merchant's voice righted itself.

It was logical to assume that the man was under direction from Autoro, whether he knew it or not, and Satsui turned back to stare down the older, dim-witted pawn. "What of it? You his boyfriend?"

The man had more than enough of his mind intact to take offense to this and he swung one of his huge, lunchbox fists toward Satsui's face. Training took over his body and propelled him off his stool, and surging forward, just to the left of his attacker. Superior speed allowed Satsui to simulate the same attack at a much faster pace; enough that the crook of his elbow was able to intercept the other man's just before any real power could be established with forward momentum. Satsui didn't relent for an instant and, with one quick motion, he grasped the man's fist with his opposite hand, turning into his attacker's body, and pulled him into an Ippon Seoinage. The man went flying over Satsui's shoulder and crashed into the slab of wood making up the edge of the bar, never to be spoken of again, and still Satsui continued as he waded into the middle of the group of men and just started swinging. None of them were amateurs when it came to fighting but they hadn't been tested to the point Satsui had and they certainly wouldn't have had his experience when it came to high level combat, life and death scenarios. With that powering and enlightening his choices it was mere child's play for Satsui to finish off the remaining five.

And then he turned his attention back to the four non-commissioned Oinin and saw that their leader was clapping.

[Testament]

Satsui's mind began churning through the possibilities of what was about to happen and how to curtail the damage to both the bar and its current inhabitants. It seemed that a fight had been brought to him and he'd be damned if he was going to walk away. A shinobi that neglected his mission was thought of poorly in some circles but even lower in Satsui's mind was a warrior who receded from the call to battle. The ones who had instigated the fight were in a world apart from the men who had just feasted upon his elbows and knees yet they were crafty, or cowardly, enough to use the men at their disposal. The other denizens of the pub had drawn back so as to make room for the clashing shinobi for none of them wanted to be caught up in what was about to happen. Civilians who got too close to fights between ninja were often sent into the next world accidentally and everyone was attempting to avoid that.

Though he wasn't exactly sure of what to expect, from his prior experiences with these four Oinin, Satsui knew that their game plan would be one that focused on brutally dismantling his offensive capabilities and then coming against him in full force once he was weakened. Four well trained adversaries who'd fought countless battles together was not the run of the mill type of threat that he usually faced but Satsui hoped to gain an advantage by breaking up the unit, and fighting them singularly. For his plan to be successful, he would have to act quickly before the men could establish a rhythm and initiate their usual routine so he targeted the one amongst them with the least self control and began putting his plan into motion. As the leader continued to clap, still chortling from the way Satsui had mercilessly dispatched the other men, Satsui locked eyes with Yunchoi Kazetora then lowered his head and spit on the floor beside his feet.

"I guess old age is to blame for taking the wind from your sails? The men I remember would never stoop so low as to use common people as shields but, who knows, maybe you old bastards just don't have what it takes to deliver up a bounty any longer."

This brought an end to the applause and the intended bristling from the brawler. It seemed the leader was debating what to say in response but he wanted to choose his words carefully. If he were too lenient then he and his men might lose face yet if he became too rambunctious it would appear that Satsui had struck a nerve and the public might still feel that the quartet was trying to cover something. Instead of giving him to think and collect a decent repartee, Satsui withdrew two kunai and took a position on one knee as he continued his verbal assualt.

"If the passage of time has crippled your fighting prowess then allow me to even the playing field a bit. I'll take your best shot with dodging or blocking at alll. C'mon and show me you guys aren't completely useless."

[Pwn]

+60

[Testament]

His target had been baited and rushed forward just then according to Satsui's plan; the Taijutsu specialist was able to cross the distance in the time it took ones heart to recoil from the previous beat and, before anyone else knew what happened, he was upon his prey. Years of experience allowed Satsui to decipher which side of his body the attack was targeting and he raised his kunai in a criss-crossed formation to block what could have only been a curled first coming towards the left side of his face. The shockwave that surged into his lower jaw, on the right side, was as bewildering as it was powerful and Satsui felt his mind wander as his body went sailing away from his attacker and came to rest after crashing into one of the nearby tables.

His eyes came to focus not on the brawler but on the master of deception, Yunchoi Autoro, whom he realized must have been assisting during the previous assault. It made sense to Satsui that one brother had been helping another, perhaps, all the years they'd been in the same squad had been an elaborate collaboration. When he recalled his youthful days, spending long nights assisting the full fledged medical nin with their work, he never remembered Yunchoi Kazetora as being particularly muscular or fast and yet his reputation continued to grow as a master of Taijutsu. Satsui realized that the only brother with any skill was Autoro; the latter had most likely been dulling the senses of his siblings opponents from the very beginning in order to make the legend of his prowess increase.

[Testament]

Satsui found his footing and proceeded to attempt to level the playing field by slicing the chords at his ankles. Far from severing his tendons, he'd only dispatched the tethers that held his training weights in place and given himself the ability to move on equal footing with Kazetora. From there he would fling his dual kunai with full force towards Autoro but, before he could properly release them, a barstool collided with his chest and succeded in altering their trajectory. The weapons imbedded themselves on either side of Autoro's head and the man in between simply chuckled briefly before signalling to his brother. The brute charged ahead but Satsui was now his equal in speed and thusly he was able to evade to one side and the lumbering giant passed by without contact.

Satsui looked back to where the three other had been but found that spot empty. He quickly pivoted his glance and found them again; they stood in the exact same formation only this time they'd chosen a different corner of the bar to stand in. This confused Satsui only momentarily but the opening was enough for Kazetora to catch him squarely in the back with a flying scissor kick which sent him tumbling to the floor. He got back to his feet only to find Kazetora had closed the distance in the meantime and, as he blocked strikes and kicks, he noticed subliminally that the group of bystanders had moved once again. Taking his attention away from his opponent and simultaneously opening himself up to attack allowed Kazetora to land multiple blows against him in a short period which sent him reeling into the bar.

Satsui fell to one knee, clutching at his ribcage, and focused his mind on clearing his head. It seemed nothing he was doing was sufficient to make any headway in this conflict and he knew it had more to do with himself than the trickery of his opponents. He wasn't using his head and that, more than any other factor, was to blame for the ass beating he was currently suffering through. But realizing this, even at this late stage in the skirmish, would place him back in the proper mindset to finding his way out. Without further hesitation, he vaulted behind the bar and began hurling bottle after bottle at Kazetora yet with his injuries, and the interference of Autoro, he was always just off the mark. Eventually, he was down to the last bottle and hope seemed to have abandoned him so he slumped forward yet again and rested on the sprawling bar before him.

[Testament]

The liquid which dulled the senses covered nearly every inch of the knotted, wooden flooring and Satsui's nose heavily detected the heady aroma. Once again the sound of clapping echoed in the palace of whores and booze and the visage of Urekami Kurai floated before his eyes, obscuring his sight.

"You show some skill, even in the face of being soundly beaten boy, so I shall ask for your name before my right hand dispatches you into the next life."

The man's voice was laced with enough arrogance to last one hundred kings a thousand lifetimes but he got no rise from Satsui. The veiled insult did not even serve to quicken the Chuunin's blood, instead, he threw the last bottle randomly and without aim.

"You struggle valiantly but in vain child; not a single one of your attacks will ever reach me as long as my agents breathe so it would be best to gently accept your fate and pass into memory like a good, little boy."

A smile scattered across Satsui's countenance and he braced himself against the wooden slab to straighten his posture. The tension fell away from him like the morning mist shrinking back across the moistened landscape.

"Till the end you're all cowards."

The clapping came to an abrupt halt as his words rang defiant in the ears of the boss. Shards of broken glass pelted his face and tore into his skin and the scent of warm blood flooded his nostrils. It seemed he finally succeeded in angering the man, much to his own detriment, and yet Satsui still smiled and continued with his disparaging comments.

"None of you remember me but I used to help bandage you sad sacks when you'd return from your secret missions. I always thought that the four of you were so badly injured because you sought the most feared prey but I can see now that it was due to a lack of skill on your end. None of you could survive without the others. One to make the plans, one to oversee the execution, one with barely passable fighting skills, and the last bastard to keep everyone else confused just long enough to complete the mission."

He reached forward and propelled himself upward and onto the bar.

"There isn't a scrap of talent among you and if this is truly the extent of what Kumogakure has to offer in the way of our Hunter Corps then I'm ashamed to call this village my home."

Darkness swirled around him and, within moments, Satsui found himself in the world of the blind as Yunchoi Autoro undoubtedly unleashed a genjutsu to rob him of his vision. His eyes stared sightlessly ahead but his voice was without fear or hesitation.

"I have seen through your tricks and deceit and even managed to discern your foul scheme. Each night there was a brawl within one of the village's bar you four were in attendance. No doubt you learned of your imminent expulsion from the Corps and sought a way to postpone the inevitable. Your plan was to enter, secretly cause a row, and then reign in the situation becoming noteworthy once more in the process. But, each night, you found that none of you were disciplined enough to resist entering the fray and you would have to flee before the proper authorities came to question those involved. Each night you promised that the next time would be different and perhaps the increasing hesitation between each incident was meant to give you more time to prepare yourselves for the next event. But none of you has the backbone or willpower to resist immediate gratification, am I wrong?"

With that last statement, the genjutsu robbing him of his sight was released and Satsui beheld all four members of the group rushing him from various locations around the bar. He'd uncovered their secret and made them enraged at the same time and they all intended to be the first to cut into his flesh. Taking no heed of the broken glass at their feet, each man ran with full speed in the hopes of taking the younger man's head from his shoulders but, in so doing, they fell victim to Satsui's plan. Alcohol was not an extremely good conductor but blood and sweat were an entirely different story. The nervousness of knowing they had been found out cause the quartet to sweat and the glass they so willingly trampled snared the soles of their feet and shed a crimson tide. Rational had left them and their berserker instincts carried them to their fate.

Satsui's hands flew through handseals as his enemies approached as he neared the end he leaped from his perch toward them. Their swords, kunai, and fists were but inches from reaching him but his jutsu went into effect just prior and a thick coating of Raiton chakra enveloped his descending form. One foot landed in the muck and drink but the other came to rest on a wooden tray that some frightened waitress had left. The electricity entered the swarming attackers and left them unconscious in mere moments. Even so, Satsui didn't relinquish his attack until the charred smell of their marrow reached his nose. All those remaining in the bar were huddled together in the booths lining the walls, not that Satsui particularly cared, but they would live to tell the story. When the authorities arrived, however, Satsui would be elsewhere because he damn well needed something stronger than soda water to drink and that bar had run dry.

[Messatsu!]

+30