Akane Yakuza Novels & Stories

(Sato Akiko, what do you want from me after all these years? - You know I'm Americanized. Now, I'm Akiko Sato. - Forget your weird ways. I don't have time to waste. – the Yakuza answers . - Jeez, always the same. Okay, I'll cut to the chase. I needed you to "lend" me your men in New York. I'm in the big apple. The Yakuza laughs. - Akiko, who do you think you are? You were always very snobbish. You should be more humble, as a good girl have to be.

Ryu began to chuckle. Kyle went expressionless, his glare landing on the soil, which had crumbled at his feet. If Ryu had known the entire time, then it was only reasonable that he had predicted the situation with his technique of burning flame. “You should know by now why I’m the alpha of this pack.” He strode towards Kyle. Ryu clutched the handle of the sword just like my father, rigid, fierce, and ready to eliminate the enemy with a single strike. I could picture his technique in my head… the Flame Kindler.

That scar… god that intriguing scar that stretched from the top of his left lip down to his jaw only added to his charm in a strange unsettling way. The man sitting opposite him was leaner with a black fade haircut, ink creeping up his neck and knuckles. Kenji Sato — the Japanese yakuza leader that based in the heart of the country —Tokyo city. Alina recognized the sly man instantly. “Who's that with the Don?” Mira whispered to Alina. “Quiet.” She murmured back. Antonio's smooth voice spoke out. “What makes you think this Alliance you're proposing will benefit me?”

Nakamura nodded toward the main house, and the mansion seemed to absorb us as we passed through its doors. The interior hadn't changed since the last time I'd been here. Minimalist furniture arranged with mathematical precision. Screens painted with mountains and water in that particular style the Japanese loved. But underneath the aesthetic, I could feel the weight of the organization: the yakuza was old blood, older than the Bratva, older than most things that killed for money. They had a code that we respected, even when we were pointing guns at each other's heads. "This way," Nakamura said, and his men flanked us as we moved deeper into the compound.

The blindfold was ripped away as strong hands forced me to my knees on the tatami mats of the hidden Kyoto ryokan. The air smelled of incense, expensive sake, and raw masculine power. Standing before me was a stunning woman in a blood-red kimono, her black hair pinned with ornate kanzashi, and a dragon tattoo peeking from her collar. She was Akira Hayashi, the ruthless Dragon Princess who now controlled the most powerful Yakuza syndicate in Japan.

The sight was gory, with their guts spilling out and eyeballs missing. "You mean it's not the Lucianos?" Someone asked Wade. "Cameras caught a glimpse of one of them. Kurayami Tachibana. The Yakuza. He's an assassin as far as the rumors say," "Shit, an assassin? He doesn't even bother to hide in the dark. What kind of assassin is this?" Mark skimmed through the files. It was obvious that everyone was scared to take on an assassin. Not to mention that he was one of the top.

“Skyfall isn’t a government organisation. The mission Harley is currently on has the name Shimizu Yujan, as the client.” “Yakuza, Japanese Mafia.” “Yes.” Cole’s throat bobbed. “Not even that can’t beat the mess we’re in.” He walked back to me and said, almost like a plea, “You can’t tell Adonis about our mission.” I frowned. “Why? I have to tell him and come clear to him. I know things will never be the same, but I have to do this.”

Andreas introduces me, and this is where they turn around. The Eastern scents now made sense to me; they’re Japanese. The older male steps forward; he looks perfectly polished in an expensive suit, but I can sense a danger about him even as he tries to hide his tattoos: the slicked-back salt and pepper hair, the scars on the side of his face and knuckles. This man is Yakuza; I can tell by the way he tries to shoulder the weapons strapped to him. “Fenriz Vega, it is a pleasure to meet you finally.” He says in perfect English with a faint Kanto accent and steps forward with his arm outstretched. “Kaen Tsukishima.”

We strided out of the place in few minutes and we were on the lanes once again. We entered to the city of Akihabara as we drove through the streets and stopped at a place called Yamano. It was a small meat restaurant in Akihabara with only 17 seats. Zen told me that Yamano serves finest quality of A5 rank Japanese beef and some of the most rare part of meat. As well as Yakiniku (Japanese style BBQ) dish, hot pot dishes are their another specialty. I was excited as well as curious at how amazing it must taste to earn such a feat to be called the best maet restaurant. We walked into the restaurant as we were greeted by a elderly woman leading us to our seats. She handed us the menu. I looked a

Miu frowned. “Well, you know my job.” I sighed, deciding to go with this story. To make it my fault, we are being hunted. I don’t want anyone to know Yūri was a Hatake, let alone the Kitsune. “Yea, you’re a cop. What about it?” Miu sighed. “Well, I recently initiated a raid on the yakuza clan resulting in even the boss getting taken in.” I sighed.