[ ...well that was a thing, apparently. ]

He was a yakuza, and that's comfortin'? First time hearin' that one.

[ Majima glanced over the bed and desk, took a quick peek at the light in the closet. But there was nothing -- not even a single cackling skeleton hand. That door, though... He stepped toward it, curious, but there was no whoosh of an automatic door.]

How do they measure how lucky ya are, anyway? Ain't it all subjective?

[ The question was casual, but his hand was totally reaching to open the door. ]