One solid kick is all it takes to send a sunglasses-wearing yakuza flying half way across the street until he collides with a brick wall. Majima tosses aside the traffic cone he'd been using as a weapon, pinpointing that one as the leader of the little group he happened to run across just a little bit ago. He strolls over to the leader, pulling out his tantō, before slowing to a stop and squatting down.

"Lucky lucky," The dagger wasn't fully out of its sheath, but he makes sure that a sliver of metal is in view, "I walk in to see you dumbasses demandin' protection money in my territory and I'm feelin' just a little bit merciful tonight. You and your boys best run off."

What little of the blade that's exposed glints with neon light, and the idea that it was Shimano's own Mad Dog making the threats made everything all the more real, so the battered group of yakuza scramble to their feet and run off. With his usual manic grin, Majima returns the tantō to its place, and the crowd of onlookers slowly disperse. Yep. Just a regular night in ol' Kamurocho.