Yakuza Man Novels & Stories

A lifetime of making mistakes has a way of making a man wiser, I suppose. Getting to the United States I fell in with the wrong crowd again, a Japanese kid named Yamato Koji. He was the son of a ruthless Yakuza boss in Los Angeles and he was my best friend. We met during my first year in school and became friends almost immediately. I didn't know he was a gang boss's kid until later but it wouldn't have made any difference if I did anyway, it probably would have even made me wanna be friends with him even more. Two years later, I dropped out of school, Koji's Dad died and he became the new boss, and a whole lot of shit went down. "A man's life is a series of stories" as Master Kankuro always

People said he was a quiet man who used very few words. I wanted to know what he went through to be like that. That wasn’t something that just happened randomly. I wanted to know every single thing about him and I couldn’t help these feelings. “Takumi, I’m glad you came,” he said to a Japanese man. He was the most likely person to recognize me since Alfonso worked closely with the Yakuza. I was shocked he was on Russian ground. Everyone in the underworld knew the Yakuza and the Bratva never got along.

Marina said, obviously teasing. She might be a stern lady, but her homorous side comes out like this whenever Niccolo is around. "Kaito Nakamura, he's in the country already with seven other members of his family." Massimo said, crushing all humour. Kaito is the Yakuza; boss of the Japanese mafia empire who succeeded in incorporating all his family members into his empire wings. "Nelson briefed us already. We only need the specifics since you've refused to send the mail" Niccolo said, drumming his finger pads on the desk.

"What the hell are you talking about?" "The fact that I discovered, or rather, of the great possibility, although I still have no solid evidence that connects it directly to the facts," I remarked the last sentence very forcefully, "that my father-in-law, the Yakuza as such, has been doing business with the corrupt clan of the camorra in such a way that history takes complete turns involving even the Chechens themselves. According to my informant, the Yakuza is the most benefited from the route and, although the evidence is not entirely conclusive, the suspicion is valid. "You have to be lying to me, Hiroshi Yagami is the most upright man I know, he agrees that they are solid and when he all

He had a buzz cut that amplified his stern and stoic expression; his presence felt sharp and strong. He had a glass of whiskey in his hand as he looked at Wesley. Without saying anything, he waved at his men behind him. The man with the bleeding head, whose white karate uniform was stained with blood, came out and bowed at the young man. He then pointed at Wesley and said grudgingly, “Jiro, these are the bastard Arcadians who beat me up! This guy even smashed a bottle on my head! He even insulted our people!” Jiro Sakamoto, the man in the black uniform, drained the cup of whiskey with a cock of his head and then scoffed. “Interesting. I didn’t expect us Ryokanians to be bullied at Bronze Spa

Yamamoto was confident that he was never wrong in assessing and recognising someone, even if he had only met them once and only briefly. His special ability led Yamamoto to become one of the leaders of the Yakuza—the largest mafia organisation in Japan—as well as being a direct descendant of one of the Yakuza's top leaders. Several of his fingers were missing, a sign that he had once made a grave mistake and received a very cruel punishment. The man narrowed his eyes, giving his full attention to a photo that he had deliberately cut out, leaving only the part showing the woman wearing a veil. In appearance, she did indeed resemble someone who would join a radical organisation and attach a su

The man came closer, he wore a short sleeve shirt, so I could see the tattoos on his neck and also on his arms. "Bloody hell, that's Yakuza." I was surprised by this show. "Yes, call me Daisuke." he said laughing. Right now, that row of white teeth and black hair looked absolutely terrifying. This man, one of the assassins of the Yakuza clan. Harry hadn't had time to pull out his gun yet, so I decided to pull out my gun first, then I pointed my gun at Daisuke. "This time I will protect you. We'll sort things out between us next time." I said to Harry. Then I stepped forward, approaching Daisuke.

"Patience. All will be revealed." Another limousine pulled up alongside theirs. The door opened, and Kazuya Takeda, the leader of the Yakuza gang, stepped out. He was a tall man with a commanding presence, his sharp suit immaculate. He entered the limousine, taking a seat beside Nakamura. "Marcus," Kazuya began, his voice smooth, "I am Kazuya Takeda, leader of the Yakuza here in Philadelphia." Marcus's gaze didn't waver. "I know who you are. But tell me, if you're Japanese, why the Korean name?"

I swat his hand away, clasp the bottle, and place it in front of me under the table so he doesn't have access to it. Even though he’s sitting still, his eyes are shifty and agitated. I’m ready to bet it’s because of whatever seed Pharaoah planted in his head back at the house. The door slides open again; this time, it's not the waitress. Kai walks in, followed by an old, short man who wears a pressed suit. Abe Hitori. The leader of the Yakuza branch in New York. Pharaoah and I stand in greeting, but Pakstan remains planted in place. He also uses the chance of my standing up to grab the bottle of vodka.