The sun was shining brightly, and the hot wind whipped through the narrow alleyways. The heat radiating from the pavement was nearly unbearable. In one such alley, five men stood together, casually smoking cigars, laughing quietly. They were enjoying their moment of peace.
Who could have known… it would be their last.
One of the cigars slipped from a man's mouth. He bent down to pick it up, brushing it off. But when he stood back up—his smile froze.
His friends were gone.
All that remained were splatters of blood on the walls and ground.
His body froze. A cold shiver ran through him despite the burning heat. Terror rooted him in place. He turned his head slightly to look over his shoulder—only for a powerful kick to slam into his face. His body flew backward, crashing hard against the wall.
His vision blurred. He was on the brink of losing consciousness. The kick had nearly broken his neck.
As his eyes fluttered open, he saw a tall shadow approaching—six feet tall, with the presence of a beast. The figure's black eyes stared down at him like a predator sizing up prey.
Then the figure spoke, voice low and commanding.
"Tell me—where are the others?"
The injured man trembled, confused. "W-Who…?"
The figure's voice grew colder. "The ones who've been saying the Yakuza are weak now. That a no-kenji gang can take us down."
The man gasped. "W-Who are you?"
A cruel smirk played on the figure's lips. "I'm not here to answer your questions. I asked you first."
Fear widened the man's eyes as he realized who stood before him.
"It's you… the Yamazaki heir… (kenji) Yamazaki… the youngest son of the clan…"
The figure slowly pulled back his hood. A teenage boy—no more than fifteen—stood beneath it. His black eyes gleamed, his face sharp and handsome. A tattoo of a tiger stretched along the side of his neck.
(kenji) stepped forward. His bloodied hand reached down—and wrapped tightly around the man's throat.
With one crushing grip, it was over.
The man collapsed—dead.
(kenji) stood up and looked around. Moments later, a group of men appeared behind him. Calmly, he gave the order:
"Clear everything."
The men nodded, and within minutes, the alleyway was spotless. There wasn't a single trace left—no blood, no body, no evidence. Like it never happened.
Just then, (kenji)'s phone rang. He answered.
"The pests are cleared," he said coldly.
A deep voice on the other end replied, "You took long enough. Come back—I have something important for you."
The line went dead.
(kenji) sighed quietly. Just then, a sleek black Ferrari pulled up beside him. A man stepped out, handed him the keys without a word, and left.
He got in and drove toward his next destination.
—
Hours later, he arrived at an old Japanese-style estate. Hidden guards stood watch in every corner—out of sight to the average eye.
(kenji) entered the house, greeted by silence.
Inside, at the center of the room, sat a man—a monster of a presence—calmly cleaning his blade. His aura was suffocating. His black eyes didn't look up until the last second.
"So, you're finally here," the man said, voice like thunder. "As usual. Always late."
(kenji) said nothing, eyes fixed on the floor. He couldn't meet that gaze.
"You're a shame to the Yamazaki clan," the man continued coldly. "You're nothing compared to your older brother."
Still, (kenji) didn't speak. He stayed silent, expression unreadable.
"I'm sending you to Tokyo," his father said firmly. "Shibuya. You'll be enrolled in a middle school there. The Yakuza presence there has been tainted—our kenji, shamed."
He narrowed his eyes.
"Go there. Fix it. Make sure the fear of the Yakuza is carved into every corner of that city. Don't disappoint me."
"Yes, Father," (kenji) replied, bowing low.
Just as he turned to leave, his father's voice stopped him.
"Before you go—take this."
A long, black-covered rectangular box was handed to him.
(kenji) stepped forward, accepted the box with both hands, and bowed again. "Thank you, Father."
Without waiting another moment, he left the house and returned to his Ferrari.
—
After hours of driving, he arrived in Shibuya.
He went directly to the Yamazaki family's estate there. The house had been unused—none of the main family lived in this region, and the other Yakuza branches were forbidden from entering.
He stepped out of the car and handed the keys to a nearby guard. "Park it."
Inside, the guards and servants bowed deeply as he passed. (kenji) gave them a brief nod and headed to his room.
The mansion was massive. A swimming pool glittered in the back, and a fully equipped gym lay in the basement. The garage was filled with luxury cars and bikes. His personal favorites were a black Ferrari—and a sleek black Ninja bike, a final gift from his late mother.
Inside his room, he removed his shirt and collapsed onto his bed. The night had already fallen.
His eyes slowly closed.
Tomorrow would begin a new chapter.
To be continued...