[b]Location:[/b]
[indent][b]Shin-Nihon (Sage 2), Sage System, Raygon Space Inner Sector.[/b][/indent]
[indent][b]Shimazu Conglomerate Headquarters.[/b][/indent]
[indent][b]Main dojo.[/b][/indent]
[indent][indent][i]Only X-Pressure Transstellar Shipping can keep bringing you extra-Raygonian posts like these! Here’s a friendly reminder that we at X-Pressure now have a special, limited 60% our loyalty plan - 3 ray-years for only ℭ7 900![/i][/indent][/indent]
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[img]https://cdnb.artstation.com/p/assets/images/images/016/947/099/large/antonio-zeron-dojo-7.jpg?1554089754[/img]

[b]Subject:[/b] 
[indent][b]Name: Nobuhide Kazegami[/b][/indent]
[indent][b]Age:[/b] 36 cycles around Sage 0.[/indent]
[indent][b]Residence:[/b] Kamurocho Pink Street 83, flat 611.[/indent]
[indent][b]Occupation:[/b] Yakuza.[/indent]
[indent][b]Rank:[/b] Captain of the Seiryu family, patriarch of the Kazegami family.[/indent]
[indent][b]Workplace:[/b] Kazegami Family Headquarters.[/indent]

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[youtube]https://youtu.be/So1-XcUbsWc[/youtube]
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[hr]

It had been a while since the whole clan had gathered. The main dojo of the Shimazu Clan headquarters was large, sure, but it could only barely fit all two hundred leaders, let alone their second-in-command officer staff. Kazegami had been lucky to make it inside to stand squeezed between the officer ranks behind his boss, Okita Seiryu, who, like the rest of the high-ranking officers, had been given space to sit in the characteristic seiza position. Tables had been set before them on the tatami mat floor in four grid-like rows facing towards the room centre, upon which were neatly placed plates of charcoal-grilled, marinated fish upon a small mound of white rice. Hot sake had been provided in tiny clay flasks, presented with small cups for corks. Kazegami felt immense envy bubble in his belly at the sight of the meal - him and his colleagues had been told to eat before they came, and had settled for Mr. Zentenzai’s abhorrent protein paste karaage. 

Heavens, he could still taste the recycled cooking oil. It had been a cheap meal, sure, but no amount of saving was ever worth this sort of garbage. Could never tell him, ‘course - mr. Zentenzai’d helped his boys out numerous times when the gutter was the only place to call home. That sewage-like excuse for food had its nostalgic merits in the end, his train of thought eventually admitted. 

“EVERYONE RISE AND BOW FOR PATRIARCH SHIMAZU!”

The call snapped Kazegami out of his mind and he, much less by his own agency and much more due to the officers he was squeezed in between moved before him, bowed as deeply as his hips could manage. A mere inch before him, his boss did the same, as did all the others. While Kazegami personally didn’t see it, muffled sounds of socked soles massaging soft tatami painted the picture of a tranquil, yet firm character - one who enshrouded himself in a cloak of harmony and peace to hide the traces of a vile, heartless demon within. The ‘muffs’ eventually came to an end with a series of them in quick succession, no doubt the big boss sitting down. As if they all shared one consciousness, they shouted:

“GOOD MORNING, PATRIARCH SHIMAZU!”

“Good morning,” Shimazu replied. Kazegami noticed a change in shadows before him and looked up slightly to see that Seiryu had sat down. The second he did, Kazegami was forced back up straight by his colleagues beside him. He took a moment to eye the character sitting there at the far end of the rectangular dojo, before the beautiful calligraphy and family arms. Shimazu had grayed since Kazegami had last seen him, which wasn’t uncommon for a man in his eighties, but still left an impression on him. Normally, these high-ranking types would dye their hair to appear youthful and strong - however, Shimazu almost appeared for flaunt his fragility, now that Kazegami looked closer. The kimono the big boss wore hung loosely over what appeared to be atrophied limbs, and his face appeared hollow and empty. The only sign left of strength in the man’s form was his gaze - and his gaze brought low the eyes of every man he aimed it at. Kazegami would’ve analysed further, but the big boss’s eyes and his connected for a minute and he was forced to avert them - none would speculate the reasons for Shimazu’s appearance, apparently.

“Brothers, I trust you all know why you are here.” His voice left aftershocks in the floor. “It’s rare that I have to summon you all, but there are currently a number of matters we must settle as one - three of them, in fact.” He held out a hand and one of the two men flanking him knelt down, head bowed, and offered him a holographic envelope, which Shimazu accepted and tapped. It was brought up over all the leader’s plates and opened to reveal a letter.

“Firstly, there’s the matter of this. There’s been speculations that one of our innermost circle has been moving ahead with the Planetary Avenue revitalisation project without any of our brothers nor my consent. As you all are aware of, this project is paramount if we plan on expanding our sphere of control deeper into the Raygonian business district. Therefore, we must all be ready to act at the same time, and if one link breaks, the whole chain snaps. Patriarch of the Hattori family, Tetsuda Hattori - step forward.” 

Kazegami allowed his gaze to scan the hall in search of the name’s owner. The whole clan was mostly human, though there were a fair share of non-humans, too. Hattori appeared to fit the latter demographic, as a tall Raygonian rose from his table, stepped over to the centre of the room and tried visibly not to look nervous. 

“Tetsuda Hattori,” Shimazu began, “you’ve--”

“Patriarch Shimazu, I’m so sorry, I--!”

“Silence! You’ve clearly overstepped your boundaries as a family patriarch, and though you sit on the inner council, it appears you believe you are above your brethren. How do you plead?”

“Shimazu, please, I didn’t--!”

“-How- do you plead?”

The Raygonian blinked a number of times, constantly looking back to his lieutenants, all of whom were biting their nails anxiously. “I-... I-...”

“Cowardice is not a quality I would expect of my greatest men. Well? Will you confess to your crimes against your brethren?” A slick, metallic hiss sounded behind Hattori, followed by an energised hum. A suited Qurok, one Kazegami and everyone else in the room knew as Shion “the Tiger of Shimazu” Tenjima, had draw his blade, a plasma-edged katana. The Qurok lifted it over his head and held the pose.

“... Or will you choose the deepest pit of hell?”

“Shimazu, I beg you, have mercy!”

The officers around the room gulped as one. Shimazu’s eyes grew darker than they already were, which at this point was quite the feat.

“Mercy? Would you grant mercy to a traitor looking to make an extra few credits by backstabbing his brethren?”

Hattori was silent, only hulks and sobs making it through his inability to respond. Shimazu clicked his tongue. “Didn’t think so. Tenjima.”

The Qurok nodded. Hattori lowered his head a little further. In the back of the hall, his lieutenants were begging for Shimazu to spare him. Alas, however, the pleas quickly on deaf ears, though Tenjima’s blade fell quicker. In the fraction of a second it took for the hall to blink, the Qurok had parted Hattori from his head. Luckily for the floor, the plasma blade seared the wound to a crisp, so only charcoal dust left its smudges upon it. A pair of suited men grabbed the body and dragged it outside. Tenjima took the head to Shimazu, knelt down and offered it to him. Shimazu nodded and grabbed it by the scalp and lifted it up for all to see.

“Let this be a remind as to what happens to those who betray the clan for their own profit.” He tossed the head aside and it was quickly collected by a servant. “We are a brotherhood - act like it. The next traitor I catch will not be the only one in their family to lose his head. Consider this case an act of mercy.” His glaring eyes fixed themselves on the late Hattori’s lieutenants, both of whom were staring hopelessly at the floor. Shimazu took the chopstick pair from his table and gripped them neatly. “Our next topic,” he said as he ate a piece of fish. “Kamina Yamado, report.”

Kamina Yamado, patriarch of the Yamado family, first lieutenant of the Shimazu family and leader of the New Macau branch on Raygon 8, bowed his head and turned his body so he sat facing Shimazu. “Yes, patriarch. A number of our subsidiaries have made various calls for aid against the increasingly rampant attacks of the Armaioli and the Bengalas. We suspect both of these are receiving considerable funds from Adamantium Bank, sir - it seems they are still unhappy about that court case two years back.”

“Ah, yes, the case of Shimazu-Protonae of April-2, 971. I wish I could see that wilted weed’s sorry little mug every single day before I go to bed, but alas, the recording will do. So you’re saying they’re back with a vengeance?” Shimazu took a sip of wine. 

Yamado nodded. “Yes, sir. The Armaioli and Bengalas have never been pushovers, but this is a whole different force we’re dealing with. In the span of under six months, their weaponry has changed from kinetics to laser, even occasional rocketry. We suspect Adamantium may have provided them with an PSMA-19B, also known as a Big Boy.”

There came a pensive hum from across the hall. It was Ira Gamagori, a mountain of a bonobo Simmie dressed in a large white light gray kimono that starkly contrasted his borderline black fur. He scratched at his temple, pulled the finger away, tossed his arms up and turned his palms to all those around while bringing his arms outwards. Shimazu rested his chin in a soft grip.

“It’s evident that Adamantium believes we’ve had free reign of New Macau for long enough. Which groups are particularly asking for aid?”

“The Celestial Dragon Triads are in a particularly poor shape, sir. Mr. Liu has made multiple appeals for monetary aid and additional manpower.”

“Mister who?” Shimazu questioned without really seeming to care for the answer.

“Mr. Po Qing Liu, sir,” Yamado repeated as diligently as he had said it the first time. “The head of the Celestial Dragon Triads. He also goes by the name Uncle Po.”

“Ah, yes, Uncle Po. Forgive me, all these subsidiaries are hard to remember at times. So, they wish for funding and men, is that it?”

“Yes, sir. I reckon they’d also like additional arms, though they chose to leave that out as to not seem greedy.”

Shimazu shook his head. “These damn triads. Can’t trust them with anything on their own. When we demand that they hold the lower tier casinos, they damn well will.” The patriarch scoffed as he took another sip of lukewarm sake. “Make it so, then. Who will travel to Raygon to support our subjects in battle?”

Nearly every officer turned towards Shimazu and bowed forward while seated, all exclaiming different things while all sounding exactly the same: “Me and my family will fight for the Shimazu!”

The patriarch smirked. “Such eagerness is all a leader could ask for, my brethren. However, I cannot risk sending all of you. We still have businesses to run, after all. The fifty of you with the most men will each send a thousand; the fifty of you with the richest accounts will each send a million. That should cover expenses for weaponry, as well as supplies for the war.”

While some disputes arose as to who was the strongest and richest, the rankings within the clan were quite well established. The matter was quickly resolved and orders delegated. Shimazu turned to Yamado. “Any other matters to report?”

“As a matter of fact, sir… There is one.” Shimazu raised a brow and gestured for Yamado to continue, but everyone in the room could see that the man was reluctant.

“... Sources have confirmed that an individual of particular interest has been particularly involved in the conquest of our territory.”

“Yes, yes, I understand. Will you speak his name, then?”

Yamado looked at the floor. “It’s… It’s Shawn, sir.”

The room fell silent. A number of the patriarchs in the middle of eating dropped their food in their laps. A number of them also coughed up the wine they had been drinking. Gamagori offered an anxious ook. In the midst of the silence, Shimazu began to quietly snicker, a snicker which slowly became a hateful laughter. Everyone in the room exchanged worried glances.

“... One would think a man like him would eventually learn the meaning of death.”

“What will you have us do about him, sir?” Yamado asked. Shimazu’s cup was refilled with sake and the patriarch raised it in Yamado’s direction.

“Well, send him back to the grave, of course - and make sure he stays there this time. Preferably in pieces - each hidden inside every separate sewage heap on Raygon. Spare his head, though. I want that mounted on my bed stand.”

Yamado nodded. “It shall be done.”

Shimazu pointed a warning finger at Yamado. “Make certain he is dead this time. If he shows himself again in a year, I will have your head on my bed stand, is that clear?”

Yamado swallowed and bowed his head. “Y-yes, sir.”

Shimazu offered a seething sigh through his teeth. “Well, my mood has been fouled by these ill tidings. Our final matter will pass quickly. It’s the matter of your little loan, Abe Ashikaga.”

A very vexed man, dressed in a green kimono patterned with several golden dragons, turned to face Shimazu. Abe Ashikaga, patriarch of the Ashikaga family, a Shimazu family lieutenant, and also the richest man in the organisation, dressed himself in all the attires and accessories money could buy. He practically didn’t have a single patch of skin not covered by gold and jewelry except for his face. His teeth, however, were all forged in platinum. “Thank you so much, great patriarch, for acknowledging our plea.”

Shimazu raised a palm. “No need to thank me. What is your plight?”

“A Halcyon citizen burrowed a considerable sum from our family, yet it would seem he has no intention of paying it back. Again, we would like to stress that this sum is mountainous. We humbly come before our brethren to request aid in apprehending this thief and scattering his body parts across the cluster.”

Shimazu raised a brow. “Why do you need to ask us? We all know that you are both well-equipped and well-connected enough to handle this matter by yourself. You need no mandate from us.”

Ashikaga grit his platinum teeth. “In all honesty, great patriarch, my family are much too occupied with the turf wars against Og’slough on Ripp-7 and Bick-2. Cumulus is also giving us difficulties on Wosmo-4.”

“I thought you had won that fight, Ashikaga,” Hiroki Awano, patriarch of the Awano family and head of Shimazu activities on Aether (also known as Sage-3), pointed out with a hint of spite in his voice. Ashikaga lowered his head.

“We suspect Cumulus has hired additional mercenaries. We have seen traces of SkullCorp battery cartridges, though their age may indicate--”

“So you’re saying you have neither won the war, nor know what is keeping you from winning it? Is this truly an effort worthy of the Ashikaga name, Abe?”

“Awano, that’s enough,” Shimazu warned. The man quieted down swiftly. The patriarch curled his lips. “Your failures on Wosmo-4 will be dealt with later, Ashikaga. What’s important now is bringing this thief to justice.” Shimazu stood up, turned and took his sword from its mount. While facing the altar upon which the mount stood, he spoke, “We cannot afford to let someone as lowly and cowardly as this run off with Shimazu Clan money. It would make us appear weak and lax - the soul of Shimazu would be forfeit.”

In the blink of an eye, Shimazu drew the blade from its sheath and pointed it directly at Ashikaga. “Very well, Ashikaga - your request has been heard. You have asked your family for help, and a family sticks together through thick and thin.” As he sheathed the blade and remounted it on the altar, he called a name: “Okita Seiryu.” 

Kazegami snapped to attention as his boss’s name was called, and Seiryu turned to face Shimazu, bowed while seated. “Yes, patriarch?”

“Your family has a long history of cleaning up the messes of its extended kin. Your talents are many and your track record is flawless. Can the Shimazu clan trust that you’ll maintain that record this time, as well?”

Seiryu bowed again. “Of course, great patriarch. It shall be done.” Shimazu nodded.

“Very well. Convene with Ashikaga about this target’s details. The meeting is adjourned.” 

Everyone rose and bowed as Shimazu left the hall with his bodyguards. As he left, all the others shouted, “THANK YOU FOR YOUR WISDOM, PATRIARCH SHIMAZU!” Once he was out of the room, rivers of flesh dispersed through the various paper slider doors that made up the dojo’s walls. Kazegami watched Seiryu walk over to Ashikaga and start a conversation he was too far out of earshot to eavesdrop on. Before long, he was out in the courtyard, where the various families gathered into small cliques and each went to their own. Kazegami stuck a cigarette between his lips, snapped it alight with a lighter and stuck his hands in the pockets of his black suit pants. He found himself a somewhat out-of-the-way corner to lean against and went about his smoke. Before long, he heard a familiar voice greet him.

“Good morning, big brother Kazegami. How was the meeting?” Kazegami’s eyes fell on the innocent-looking face of Natsugi Hanekawa, one of his family members. He blew a plume of smoke in a direction away from Hanekawa’s face and flashed him a wry grin.

“Eh, nothing special. We might get a job soon, though.”

“A job, sir?” Hanekawa’s eyes seemed to light up. Kazegami shrugged.

“Well, it’s either us or Matsuda. It’s the kind of job I doubt Seiryu would be willing to do on his own. Got ourselves a little debtor on the run, see.”

“Big shot?”

“Dunno yet. Uncle Ashikaga wasn’t too detailed in his description. Although…” Kazegami squashed the cigarette stump against the stone wall and flicked it away. “... He did mention that the target’s Halcyonian, which could be interesting.”

“Halcyonian, huh. Could be nobility, sir.”

“Could be, could be.” Kazegami would be lying if he’d said the thought of peeling the skin off a Halcyon princeling wasn’t the least bit enticing. 

“Kazegami, Hanekawa.” The two of them turned to see Seiryu, who came over to them with his hands tucked into the hems of his robe. The two of them bowed, Hanekawa keeling much lower than Kazegami, and offered their patriarch attentive looks.

“Yes, big brother Seiryu?” Kazegami offered.

“We’ve got our man. Halcyonian entrepreneur, goes by the name of Arthur Lewin. Last observed skipping out on a bar tab in a space station establishment over Parousia along with another individual designated as Patrick Lewin, who, according to their Mi-Self profiles, is Arthur’s brother. Whether they are in this together or not is not a concern, either way.” Seiryu tapped his wristband and sent the personal files the Ashikaga had managed to acquire on the two.

Kazegami gave the file a skim and scratched his neck. “Want us to just get Arthur, sir?”

“No, get Patrick, too. Brother Ashikaga stressed especially hard that he wanted to make examples of them both. How you do it is up to you, as long as you make it messy and public. I trust you’ve got some tricks.”

Kazegami smirked and shrugged again. “Eh, one or two.”

Seiryu nodded back with a wry smile. “That’s my boy. Good luck to you. Make sure not to leave your family behind, now. They need the experience.”

“Roger that, sir.”

“Well, then. Have a good day.” With that, Seiryu went down the road to the courtyard gates to an awaiting hover-limo. Kazegami and Hanekawa exchanged glances.

“So, where do we start, sir?”

Kazegami tugged at his studded chin thoughtfully, then cracked a smirk. “First off, we’ll need a lot of guns.”

[hider=Summary!]
Yakuza time, [@Crispy Octopus]!
The Shimazu clan, a huge yakuza group in Raygon space, has a big meeting. First matter is some inside corruption, solved by executing the culprit; second matter is that the Raygonian subsidiaries are having problems: Adamantium is making moves against the Yakuza. Turns out also that Shawn is somehow involved and the yakuza want him dead. Finally, Arthur’s shenanigans are brought up - turns out he borrowed money from one of the yakuza’s families. Nobuhide Kazegami is put on the case to catch him and his brother and spread their body parts across the cluster!

[/hider]