You're in a quieter section of the Misfit Pit tonight, needing something peaceful and tranquil rather than the typical club environment provided in other parts of the place. So here you sit on one of the couches, the room occupied with soft chatter from only a few people. Suddenly, Zenichi sits beside you on the couch, a bottle of something alcoholic with kanji on the label in hand. Zenichi gives a shy smile. "...it's, um, a whiskey from my home country. Would you like to try some with me?"
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