When ordering the assassination of an Imperial Envoy, there were certain rules one had to follow. Ukyo knew this perfectly, which is why he was making his way into the lower depths of Kougakyo in his oldest clothes, armed with a handgun tucked into the back of his belt.

He reached a dingy, decrepit-looking bar. The sign above the door proudly proclaimed it to be "Fumio's Bar/Grill/Public Restroom". Ukyo winced, bracing himself. Here goes nothing. He slid open the door.

The room beyond was packed with people—mainly large, burly men sporting more than a few tattoos. Ukyo gingerly stepped around them, flinching as a nearby card game erupted in violence.

"You cheated! Nobody could pull hands like that!"

"It was YOUR deck, bastard!"

Ukyo bowed politely to the bartender before taking a seat at the bar; this caused a flying mug to miss his head by inches and smash against the wall. The bartender—a heavyset man with a missing tooth—surveyed this newcomer cautiously. "Yer not from around 'ere, are ya?"

Ukyo gulped, nervously twining his hair around his fingers. "Y-you might say that. I'm looking for a Shujiro Tsuchiya. Is he here?"

The bartender blinked. Maybe this pale, lean man wasn't as prissy as he'd first thought. He yelled above the crowd. "Shujiro-sama! You got a visitor!"

A man wearing a visor over his eyes stood up and walked over to the bar, calmly ignoring the thuds and screams from the fight still raging in a corner of the room. "Yeah?"

Ukyo bowed from his seat. "Good morning to you. I am Matsubayashi Ukyo, and I have a job for you."

Those closest to Ukyo immediately fell silent and stared at him. The fight in the corner ceased as both combatants gawked. The son of the magistrate, here? Ukyo leveled a glare at all of them. "I wasn't talking to you."

Conversation slowly resumed. Ukyo turned back to Tsuchiya with a smile. "Now, I understand that you are a samurai?"

"I was."

Ukyo beamed. "Wonderful! Then you can help me. I have a slight problem, you see."

"Go on…"

"Well…" Ukyo leaned closer and dropped his voice to a murmur. "There is someone who is in a position to do me a rather large favor, but only if I can first get rid of a certain…annoying personage. As I'm not capable of doing away with this person without obviously implicating myself, I was wondering if perhaps you would do it for me."

"Get to the point."

"…If I get you a job as a bodyguard in my palace, will you kill the Imperial Envoy?"

The other man nodded. Ukyo sat back, with a smug look on his face. "That's great! You can start tomorrow, Tsuchiya-sama."

His business concluded, Ukyo rose and left; the bar's inhabitants fell silent as he passed. He slumped against the outside wall of the building with a sigh of relief. Thank Benzaiten…I was sure I'd wind up dead. His face split into a smile. I didn't even have to use my gun.

"Hey, you! You, with the hair. You're the magistrate's son, ain't ya?"

One of the men from the bar had followed him, carrying a revolver. Ukyo flinched and nodded. "What do you want with me?"

"Oh, not much…just your wallet. And your life."

Ukyo smirked and bowed, drawing his gun. "Sir, I assure you I have no wish to kill you. But since you have so impolitely challenged me…let this duel begin."

In houjutsu, as in war, there were certain rules to follow. And Ukyo was very good at following rules.

He tucked his gun back into his belt, shaking his head sadly. "Some people are so rude. Wouldn't you agree?"

The would-be mugger did not answer—indeed, Ukyo would have been shocked if he had, for half the man's face was missing.

Ukyo began to make his way back up to the upper reaches of the city. He had a meeting to attend with his father and the Imperial Envoy, and it would be inexcusably rude to be late.