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An onyx-colored high-rise building stood in the lonely Tokyo night. The streets hummed below as the quiet covered the late hours of the night. Restaurants buzzed with patrons, the soaplands provided their hidden services, and the last train had long departed. Everything was routine on the streets. The building, however, resonated with an unseen massacre.
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Out of all the days for the A/C to die, it had to be on their last gig.
Anthony, the alleged leader of the group, struggled with the cooling unit one last time before he smacked it in defeat. The oak brown 72’ Lincoln Continental Town Car was not a top-of-the-line model anymore, but it got the three gang members of the Royce Club from point A to point B. Much like the older car, Anthony “Ant” Favero felt like he was on his last legs. Despite being at the age of twenty-six, he felt like a dawdling old man. He was Earthborn with medium-width chestnut hair and a small patch of facial hair on his chin.
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