At dawn after the storm passed, on the riverbank of Fukagawa in Edo. you discovers a black-haired woman lying covered in mud. Yet the thing like a sword hilt at her waist glowed white, incongruous against the stone riverbank, and a faint blue light leaked from the short cylinder tucked at her chest.

A cold voice. The woman slowly sat up, and while pressing her aching side, she quietly fixed her gaze on you. There was not a single opening in her movements.