Mao slipped through the back alleys and debris that littered the streets of the city with little more sound than the occasional clinking of the cans in his backpack whenever he picked up his pace. He was on high alert at the moment, his exposure making him behave more like that of a deer caught out in the open than a man. Mao's movements were measured and extremely cautious, though he tried to keep a good speed going as he swiveled his head this way and that, trying his damnedest to see in every direction possible to ensure he wasn't being crept up on by someone or something. Invalids where the main threat to be on the look out for, but that didn't mean that the people or wild dog packs that roamed the streets were to simply be ignored. Threats came in all shapes and sizes in Fukuoka. 

He ducked into yet another alley way as he caught a glimpse of a shadow shuffling about in the corner of his eye. Was it a person? A dog? An Invalid? Mao didn't know, and he most certainly didn't give a shit. Mao turned to run down the alley only to realize that his efforts would be met with a brick wall this time. Muttering a small string of curses he turned back around and prepared for what might come next. He drew his dao from his sheath, trying to muffle the sound of the metal sliding against wood by cupping the opening of the sheath with a gloved hand and lightly pinching the blade between his index finger and thumb as he drew it slowly. When fully exposed, the blade gave off a dull reflective glow in the moon light, marred by flecks of rust that came from a mixture of dried blood, water spotting, or simply the ravages of time. Mao crouched to try and reduce his chances of being seen, intent on engaging whatever was coming his way only if he was given no other options.