[ The cat picture ( ??? ) gets no reply from the mobster, just a bit of a raised eyebrow at it, and instead he goes about his regularly seedy business that week. There is a debacle with a former employee, but Tokyo bay earns yet another bloated corpse to buoy its water level, and, as usual, Matoba does his dirty work himself.
Friday rolls around, finding Matoba in a booth near the stage, arm propped on the backrest, smoking with a pair of Russian hit men.
Never let it be said that he doesn't keep interesting company.
If the stench of the Belomorkanal cigarettes do not give his compatriots away, the tattoos certainly will.
Matoba himself is polished, in a well pressed suit, wearing his vulpine smile.
The bouncer ( the same one ) escorts Yurio to their table, and Matoba ( who does not smoke those Russian things - American for him, thanks ), taps out a smoke, tip of his tongue wetting his lip as he lights it. ]
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Friday rolls around, finding Matoba in a booth near the stage, arm propped on the backrest, smoking with a pair of Russian hit men.
Never let it be said that he doesn't keep interesting company.
If the stench of the Belomorkanal cigarettes do not give his compatriots away, the tattoos certainly will.
Matoba himself is polished, in a well pressed suit, wearing his vulpine smile.
The bouncer ( the same one ) escorts Yurio to their table, and Matoba ( who does not smoke those Russian things - American for him, thanks ), taps out a smoke, tip of his tongue wetting his lip as he lights it. ]
So lovely of you to join us, little one.