When I was young I used to sit on the steps of my grandfathers restaurant. I would let the sun beat down on me dri king a ice cold iced tea. Tne sounds of the street would fade away. At this point I could almost forget what my father and grandfather would do in that restaurant. I would be kidding myself if I thought nothing illegal was happening. I mean two generations of mafiosos came before me. They were stone killers. The ones you called for the hard jobs. Me I never wanted that, and the first time I said that to my old man it took weeks for  for swelling to go down around my eye. So I sat, I watched, and I absorbed. I let the coldness steal its way into my heart, and I loved it. Still I was not ready to give up on the goodness my mother left inside my soul. So I signed up to defend my country. I did my time, I paid my dues. What did I get for my service? A ticket home a pat on the back, and a few measly bucks. The only work was washing dishes, or sweeping floors. Well I'm sorry that's not enough for me. You see I brought something else home with me... the coldness that my father showed me I crave it now more then I did in the army. So look out I plan to make my mark..... it's going to get cold.

Gammy opulls the collar up on his jacket and disappears back into the speakeasy

vectre walks by overhearing that story which reminded him of his time in japan when he was young his parents were killed and he was raised by the yakuza from the time he was young being trained in the arts of stealth and murder as the days went by vectre grew colder and colder then remembering the pressure of the jobs given to him by the oyabun of his syndicate after over 300 jobs for the yakuza they sent him to america to seek his fortune and bring honor to his family. vectre continues walking and thinks to himself "eh..theyre just memories to be forgotten..." he disappears into the shadows