It's really bad. [ He repeats, and yet his tone remains chipper; poised, almost, as if to mask the anger that still runs hot in his veins. An emotion that he experiences so rarely that he almost doesn't know what to do with himself -- in the past the answer would be so simple, combing through the lives of humans. So inconsequential, just like the men cheering for violence now at their backs, as their bones and flesh were picked from his teeth without a thought.

But he can't just kill without remorse here. Not if he intends to keep up the image of a person that no one should be frightened to raise a hand at.

Obikawa directs them to the locker rooms, quickly responding with a snort and furrowed brows. ]

What do you expect? People who live in that kind of environment just wanna pull everyone else in... just a whirlpool waiting for the next victim to drown. [ He clicks his tongue. ] Just like the damn yakuza that ran me outta town. And what's the fun in watching some dudes just punch each other?

[ That's so weird? Makoto? No he didn't say anything about the yakuza. ]