Sensō-ji, Tokyo's oldest temple, is also one of the most popular tourist destinations, attracting nearly 30 million visitors each year who come to take photos and sightsee...
Especially around New Year's, the crowds of worshippers are overwhelming.
Today, the area was cordoned off with long police lines. The Metropolitan Police Department had deployed a large number of officers to maintain order and security.
Outside, reporters and citizens swarmed like a turbulent tide.
All the streets and roads around Sensō-ji had been cleared and sealed off. A line of black sedans stretched like a winding dragon, parked in front of the ancient temple's gates.
Many solemn-faced figures in black suits stepped out of the cars... they were all mourners who had come to pay their respects.
Luxury cars lined the broad streets...
Apart from relatives and friends of the Yashida family, elites and celebrities from all walks of life were present, including the Governor of Tokyo, who personally attended to offer wreaths and condolences.
It was said that even the Prime Minister had taken time out of his busy schedule to call Yashida Shingen with words of sympathy, preparing to award a medal in honor of Yashida Ichirō's outstanding contributions.
The grand spectacle of a single man's funeral was enough to demonstrate the Yashida family's immense power and status in this country.
Although 80% of Japanese people follow Shinto, Buddhist funerals are typically held after death. Ichirō's body was placed in the main hall of Sensō-ji, where the sound of chanting filled the air.
Logan stepped out of a black sedan...
He had originally booked a flight, but Ichirō's sudden death disrupted his plans. Out of courtesy, he felt he had to stay until the funeral was over before leaving.
Tycoons and celebrities from the business and political worlds arrived one after another, entering the already sealed-off Sensō-ji.
The grand gate, inscribed with the words 'Fūraijinmon' (Wind and Thunder gods Gate), was flanked by statues of the Nio guardians... one scowling with closed lips, the other fierce and mighty. They were meant to ward off evil...
A massive lantern weighing 670 kilograms hung prominently above the gate. Following Yukio, who was dressed in a black kimono, Logan walked step by step into Sensō-ji.
Bodyguards openly carrying submachine guns stood solemnly on both sides of the path, their expressions alert.
Deep in the courtyard, amidst the pavilions, the men of the Yashida family wore suits while the women were clad in kimonos. Around them, monks in yellow robes and white caps gathered in a circle.
Logan's gaze was drawn to the imposing suit of armor standing beside Yashida Ichirō's portrait.
"That armor belongs to the Silver Samurai. He will stand there forever, guarding the elder's soul," Yukio whispered in explanation.
The Silver Samurai was the most powerful warrior of the Yashida family, a legendary figure no one had ever seen in person.
Standing among the crowd, Logan frowned...
Ever since arriving in Tokyo, he had been plagued by an indescribable sense of unease. A vague but persistent feeling of danger clung to him, as though he were trapped in a dark valley surrounded by unseen threats, like the predatory gaze of a hunter fixed upon him.
Logan's mind was a mess of chaotic thoughts.
At this moment, Ichirō's granddaughter, Mariko, was led by the monks. She stepped forward to kneel and pay respects before the portrait.
Logan steeled himself... after all, he would be leaving in just a few days.
"Wait!" Logan's sharp eyes caught a glimpse of the fierce tattoos on one of the monks' arms.
His instincts kicked in. Pushing through the crowd and ignoring the shouts of the bodyguards behind him, he grabbed the disguised monk, only for the man to pull a gun from his robe and fire, the bullet tearing through Logan's abdomen.
Like a spark igniting gunpowder, panic erupted.
Gunfire rang out incessantly. Caught off guard, the bodyguards fell one after another as the 'monks' threw off their robes, revealing vicious black-and-blue tattoos.
Under normal circumstances, Logan would have charged through the hail of bullets, unsheathing his Adamantium claws to cut down the attackers. But an inexplicable weakness weighed him down.
In his dazed vision, Mariko was seized and dragged away by the armed assailants.
Silver claws pierced flesh as Logan gasped for breath, mustering just enough strength to stab through the chest of a nearby attacker.
He looked around... Sensō-ji was in chaos like a boiling pot of oil. The air filled with gunfire and screams.
In his long life, Wolverine had never experienced anything like this. It was as if he had fallen ill... his boundless stamina, his formidable healing factor, all his innate gifts had vanished without a trace, as though they had never existed.
"What the hell is happening to me?" Logan cursed under his breath.
Seeing Mariko being taken away and about to disappear from sight, he struggled to give chase, only to be yanked back by a strong hand.
"I suggest you rest for a bit." Sean supported the panting Wolverine, then turned to the petite girl in a baseball cap and said, "Your turn. Keep it clean. No unnecessary gore."
With messy bangs covering her eyes, Yoshimura Izumi scoffed before darting off after the gunmen who had broken through to the temple's outer perimeter...
As one of Umbrella's 'test specimens', she now had to assist Sean with experiments and run miscellaneous errands.
The promise he had given her flickered like a beacon of hope in her heart. If she could shed her Ghoul identity and return to a normal life, any price would be worth paying.
"What the hell are you doing here?" Logan eyed the young man sidelong.
He had briefly returned to the school and naturally heard the exaggerated legends about Sean... how he had supposedly punched Stryker, kicked Magneto, and wiped out the Brotherhood with a laugh.
It sounded like a cheap story from a third-rate comic...
"Show a little respect to the guy who just saved your life." Carrying the 300-pound Logan effortlessly, Sean strolled through Sensō-ji as if taking a leisurely walk.
Any gunmen blocking their path were flung aside by an invisible force.
The two made their way through the chaotic crowd to the five-story pagoda at the temple's southern corner. This towering ancient pagoda was Japan's second tallest.
To the northeast stood the famous Asakusa Shrine, where Shogun Tokugawa Hidetada had once enshrined his father, Tokugawa Ieyasu.
Sean studied the burly man, then said, "Haven't you noticed? Logan, you're weak right now."
Logan had lost three things in his life; his family, his abilities, and his life. Had Sean not intervened, this fierce Wolverine would have lost his healing factor entirely, nearly stripped of his life by Yashida Ichirō.
"Damn it, how did this happen?" Logan leaned against the pagoda's wooden beam, cold sweat pouring down his forehead.
The boundless energy that had always filled him was gone. He looked up at Sean, his vision suddenly blurring like a shaky camera before cutting to black.
"Rest for now. I'll handle the rest." said Sean as he glanced upward...
At the top of the ancient pagoda stood four sickles. There were many strange theories about them; some said they were placed to seal the vengeful spirit of Prince Shōtoku, while others claimed that if the sickles pointed upward, it foretold a bountiful year, and if downward, a year of famine.
"Yashida Ichirō faked his death to deceive everyone, then tried to steal Logan's healing factor to regain youth and life. Meanwhile, his son, Shingen, colluded with the yakuza in a power grab. Both sides are scheming against each other, with Hydra lurking in the shadows..."
Beneath Tokyo's turbulent surface, a storm was brewing.
According to Izumi, the other two Ghouls still roamed the city at night, hunting relentlessly while evading the C.C.G.'s pursuit.
"Then it's time for me to make my entrance." The young man chuckled softly, his small figure standing at the foot of the towering pagoda.
In the distance, the fiery red maple leaves danced like flames across the mountains...