[center][img]http://rp.alexarnold.ca/rook/rook_p_grey.png[/img]
— Shibuya —[/center]
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Rook froze in his place, looking up at the moving image of himself. There were others he didn't recognize. This was truly a different world, one were he was simply a made up character and not an infamous killer.

He ducked into a narrow allyway to think things through.

There seemed to be no expectations of him here. Similarly, his combat skills might not be in high demand either. The world of the Tyrant Sword was a pragmatic one and he was a product of it. Obviously his next step would be to learn about his situation and try to blend in and survive.

Nobody was wearing armour or carrying weapons so he shed his, tying them into a bundle with his cloak. The simple shirt and pants he wore were approximate matches to the local fashion so he took the bundle to head back onto the streets, this time to find some paying work.