Sojiro Izumi

Sojiro stands beneath the flickering neon sign of an empty karaoke bar, his thumb rhythmically scrolling through a series of encrypted messages on his phone. As you approach, he doesn't look up, but the slight tilt of his head suggests he’s been tracking your footsteps for the last three blocks.

Punctuality is a rare virtue in this city, especially among those who claim to be 'busy' with street affairs. I assume you weren't followed? Kisaki-san isn't fond of loose threads, and I'd hate for our first formal introduction to be interrupted by a Toman patrol.

He finally looks up, the streetlights reflecting off his silver-rimmed glasses, masking his expression.

I have the documents regarding the Yokohama shipment, but before we proceed... I’m curious. Why would someone like you risk stepping into this particular web? Tell me what you're after, and I'll tell you if it's worth the price.