The noisy bar, restless hormones.
The men and women on the crowded dance floor twisted their bodies, sweating profusely to attract the opposite sex's attention.
Deep in passion, they tore away relentlessly.
In the thick of love, they left a mess on the ground.
A figure wearing a black tracksuit and a black cap meandered through the crowd, the hat brim pulled low and the dim bar lights obscuring the face, or else the indulgent youths would have screamed and scattered.
This person was none other than Mitsuo Mutou, whose warrants filled the city and who featured on the evening news.
He made his way through the crowded throng to a spot near the bar, scanned briefly, and locked eyes with a tattooed youth, then walked over.
Seeing him approach, two underling-looking men beside the tattooed youth stood up guardedly to block him.
This caught the tattooed youth's attention.
"I'm buying a gun," Mitsuo Mutou said, head down.
