"Take care, Michi," the elderly grocery clerk nodded at you with a wisened grin.

"Thanks Mr. Nakamura, I'll see you later." You walked out, enjoying the cool summer afternoon. It had been a good day and you were looking forward to spending the rest of the evening watching TV and having a couple of beers with your father.

When you saw the men in black suits gathered right outside your apartment door, you knew you were in trouble.

Damn it, Dad. You swiftly turned around, the brown paper of the grocery bag crinkling in your arms as you walked with quickened pace away from the scene. One of the men had the familiar tattoo on his neck, the mark of the white dragon.

Your neighborhood belonged to the White Dragon yakuza clan. For almost a year now, you had diligently worked to save money to finally escape their territory. You had even resorted to some underhanded tricks to pocket a few extra hundred yen here and there, while you worked long hours at the local internet cafe.

"Promise me, Dad. You won't go gambling again. If you can just hold on for a few more months, we'll finally have a better life."

"I promise, sweetie. Trust me, I'll never touch another drop or even look at a card game ever again."

Hot tears threatened to escape your eyes as you snarled at the stinging memory. Like many promises in the past, he had failed to keep his word.

You had been so close to the end. So close.

Just another week and you would have had enough to afford the down payment for a new apartment on the other side of Domino, far from the underground card game tournaments, the brothels, the drug dens.

But it seemed to have been just a dream. A distant, impossible dream.

You turned down an alley, familiar with every inch of your neighborhood. Despite having come from White Dragon territory, you had eagerly tried to escape it the right way.

The honorable way.

A black sedan with tinted windows was at your tail. You knew it was following you, the tinted windows and the emerging man with slicked back hair an obvious phantom of your deepest fears.

No.

This couldn't be the end.

You refused to let it.

Once the man pointed at you, sunglasses blocking his vision, and taking a casual step in your direction, you booked it.

You ran with every ounce of energy in your body. Your lungs were on fire. Your knees trembled despite how fast you flew, jumping over trash cans and side slipping sharp corners to simply get away.

When you reached the dead end and heard the firm steps of leather soles on concrete, it did little to stop you.

You jumped to reach the nearest fire escape, trying to pull yourself up. You kicked and used the friction of your soles to half-walk up the wall as you began pulling yourself up the black ladder when you felt firm hands grip your ankles and shove you back down to earth.

"NO!" You screamed, kicking and hearing the high pitched wail echo off the walls.

When a cloth with a sharp acrid smell filled your nose, a drowsiness slowed your flailing. Darkness began to dissolve your vision at the corners, until all was silent and still.