Kuto had never been the type to believe in life after death, but he certainly didn’t expect to find himself in Macao of all places. It was a far cry from his home back in Japan, and yet somehow it felt more familiar to him than anything else he’d ever experienced.

As he walked through the streets, taking in the sights and sounds of this new place, Kuto couldn’t help but feel as though he was being watched. It wasn’t an unpleasant feeling, but rather one that made him feel more alive than he had in years.

He soon found himself at a small cafe and decided to go inside for a cup of coffee. As he sat down at a table near the window, Kuto noticed a man sitting at another table with his back to him. The man’s hair was blond and shaved close to his head, and he wore a black hoodie pulled up over his head. There was something about him that struck a chord with Kuto, though he couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was.