[b]October 28th
Queens, NY, United States[/b]

It wasn't long before a roach-headed young man in a nice suit would drag the man who assaulted the woman into a dark alley. Say what you will about their fashion sense, but the Death Syndicate was keeping Manhattan and Harlem's street crime down. The retribution for drug sales, child abuse, and damage to the property of the people (as long as their protection was paid up) was swift and brutal. It was the Yakuza way, as Death Man saw it- they keep the streets clean, they protect those the officials won't, and in return they get money and respect.

In fact, it was thanks to the remarkable efficiency of these criminals that most of New York didn't even realize the zombie epidemic that plagued America was still going. After the police started to panic while failing to maintain civil order, the Yakuza stepped forward. A few of the enforcers were doing regular patrols, making short work of anything coming out of hospitals, graveyards, butcher's shops, secret underground snuff film sets... all the typical things you find in New York City. Of course, there was also a hotline. It was a pretty simple setup. People called them. They showed up. They beat the shit out of zombies, hacked them to pieces, incinerated, melted, or whatever metahuman abilities were on hand. Once the zombie was cut up or incapacitated, it would be tossed into one of several woodchippers. The chunks twitched now and again, but they weren't doing anything on the way to the incinerator. Brutal and efficient.

As he started feeding the mugger's limbs into the woodchipper, Greg Samson, the Roach-Boy of Brooklyn, couldn't help but think Death Man would be proud.