[ Daigo has lived through a lot of assassination attempts at this point in his life. He has a bullet wound scars in his chest and his abdomen to prove the point. So, he doesn't think twice about being meticulously watched, nor about having his table precisely chosen for its tactical advantages. It's all second nature, long since. Still, he does have the leisure of not worrying about being sniped through the window. No one here knows that he's a crime lord.
He comes back with a pot of tea, a tokkuri of sake, two cups on a tray, and his same mellow smile. ]
There we are.
[ He takes his own seat and draws a simple glass ashtray towards himself. He takes out his deck of cigarettes and taps it on the tabletop to shake one loose. He asks with subtle humor, ]
no subject
He comes back with a pot of tea, a tokkuri of sake, two cups on a tray, and his same mellow smile. ]
There we are.
[ He takes his own seat and draws a simple glass ashtray towards himself. He takes out his deck of cigarettes and taps it on the tabletop to shake one loose. He asks with subtle humor, ]
So, are you a long-time resident?