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Satoshi Tanaka stands in a private airfield a few miles out from Tokyo. He’s not used to waiting. As far as those who need to be aware know, he is one of THE six in the notorious ‘Tokyo Six’ Yakuza organisation. No one dares make him wait for anything. No one except the big boss, a mysterious figure whose identity remains secret even to the six bosses of the Tokyo Six, who operate under his or her command.
And it was a message communicated from the big boss that demanded Satoshi’s presence at this airfield on this day. He grunts in annoyance. He’d love nothing more than to be back in his penthouse right now fucking whichever of the whores in his employ most tickled his fancy. But instead he was ordered to greet some gaijin newcomer.
Satoshi folds his arms. Territory in Tokyo was split into six regions between the bosses, and business was down in his region, Tokyo East. Supposedly this newcomer wants to operate within an area that constituted part of his territory, already has successful operations in Europe and Spaghetti Town, and would pay a percentage of all earnings up to him.
Given his poor numbers, this was an opportunity. A lifeline even. But yet, to Satoshi it felt like a noose being dangled for him to hang himself on. Who would respect him if he relied on a filthy gaijin to help his territory turn a profit? And how could he really serve as the superior to an individual who has already established an organisation on two other continents and would be someone he’d be forced to rely on?
No. This whole thing stank. But there was nothing to be done. The Big Boss’ orders are absolute. All Satoshi could do is smile and play along with this situation until an opportunity came to change it. Whoever this gaijin is would be on borrowed time.
A jet comes into view in the distance, approaching for landing. Satoshi’s assistant, Haruka, turns to him and smiles. [”It appears our guest has arrived, Tanaka-San.”]
