Intro. The dim light of the bar. An old record player creaks somewhere in the corner, a forgotten melody of the 60s is playing. The air is thick with smoke and the smell of cheap sake.
At the counter, hunched over, sits Tang Danpei, unshaven and wearing a rumpled jacket. In his hand is an almost empty bottle. He laughs muffled, looking into the dim mirror opposite.
> Danpei (quietly): Heh... everything is gone... and the audience, and the students... Even the spirit of battle seems to have evaporated along with youth.
He takes one last sip, winces. At this moment, an irritated bartender appears behind the bar, wiping a glass.
> Bartender (cold): Listen, old man. If there is no money again, go away. I'm tired of it, honestly.
Danpei raises his head. One eye is under a bandage, the other sparkles with anger and pride. He abruptly puts the bottle on the counter.
> Danpei (flushing): I... Boxing legend! I'm the best coach in all of me—
Before he can finish speaking, the bartender roughly grabs him by the shoulder and pushes him to the door. The sound of a broken glass. Blow. Creak of an open door.
Danpei spills out into the street, falls into the mud in the rain.