"A man was found dead in Chūō, Tokyo today. Officials have yet to give a motive or a suspect for this murder. Could contractors be involved? Find out more on the 10 o' clock news." The newscaster blared. 

A muscular, bald man in ripped jeans who seemed to have forgotten his shirt at home that day sat watching the newscast with a thinner man, who wore a leather jacket with khakis and a red bandanna. They were sitting on the floor, watching the newscaster on an old-time brown television interspersed with bits of static and robotic audio corruption.

"What do you think happened to that bastard?" the bald man asked, turning to his bandanna-clad companion.

"Probably some dumbass who got in trouble with the mafia or something. Hell, he may have even been foreign and running from his government. Its not important."

"On the contrary." a deep voice said. The two turned to the man behind them, the third in the small underground apartment they currently resided.

Average height and wiry, the man would have been missed if it weren't for his snow-white skin and pale grey eyes. Dressed in a slick, black suit, he hid the lower half of his face beneath five red playing cards. A game of Solitaire, two-thirds finished, sat on the table in front of him.

"The hell does that mean?" the bald man asked, glaring at the man at the table. 

The man at the table responded with a sigh, placing his cards on the table and beginning, in British-accented Japanese, "My guess is that man was a Contractor. Word is that a star fell pretty soon after this happened."

The bandanna-clad man scowled. "What's your point?" 

"It's rare that a human could kill a Contractor. Not only are Contractors more powerful, they're more logical and inclined towards combat. As such, I'm willing to guess that this particular event was premeditated." the man continued, picking up his cards and gathering them into a deck of fifty-two methodically. After he had gathered them all, he suddenly placed them to one side and picked up a paperweight that had been sitting on the table. 

Suddenly, his eyes flashed red, and he threw the paperweight over his shoulder. Miraculously, it landed on the handle of the door behind them perfectly, causing it to slide open.

"Therefore, it's a safe bet to assume that this will happen again." he said, standing and walking to the door. "Do not wait for me -- it will likely be several hours before I return to this place." He exited the apartment and slid the door closed behind him.

The man sighed. In a past life, he had been known as Zeroth, and was ASIS's best agent. Before that, he was a rich schoolboy with a bright future. Now, he was Prior, a mysterious expat in Japan with questionable motives. But no matter where he went, or what name he took, he could never shake the feeling that something was wrong in the world -- terribly wrong. 

He reached into his left pocket, and took out a black leather glove. Sliding it onto his right hand, he reached into his right pocket with his left hand and took out a set of grey playing cards. As he walked the streets of Tokyo, he shuffled, creating new configurations of cards with astounding efficiency. A man was dead. A Contractor dead at the hands of humans. If his hunch was correct, more were to follow.

The game would be interesting, indeed.