The man sits down heavily on a bench outside a noisy karaoke club, flickering colored lights splash through the window to play over his flowing gossamer hair.  With a shiny red and silver guitar on his lap, the strings unattended as well muscled arms stretch up and behind his head while he relaxes.<br/><br/>He looks out over the decaying city.  With the population so depleted, it becomes harder and harder to maintain the structures of a once dense and bustling Japanese city.  He sighs to himself, heaving his powerful form from the bench, to take a stroll through the crisp evening.<br/><br/><br/>His stomach turns.  Not for the sight of blood and torn flesh- but for the thought that someone would do that to the woman.  Especially in these times, with humanity so low in numbers.  He looks at the corpse, it's body half laying in an alley, out an open doorway into a dark building.  A flicker of shadow catches his eye.  Someone was in the building.<br/><br/>Grabbing the shield off his back with one arm- huge, round and brilliant golden, with the emblem of wings sprouting from a vertical sword- his other arm reaching back to draw a large, nasty looking shotgun with thick double barrels and an external box auto feeder.  He steps into the alley, walking calmly down it to turn and face inside through the doorway at the figure that cast the shadow, holding the gun in one arm of rippling steel corded muscles, pointed straight forward.<br/><br/>"You kill her?" he asks in a deep, rumbling English, and then again, in rough Japanese.