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In the year 1986, crime in the United States is at an all-time high. Criminals, drugs, and guns flow in and out of the country from everywhere in the world, and the gateway to it all is the coastal paradise, Heat City. On the neon-soaked streets of this beating heart of scum and villany, you can get whatever you want -- if you can pay the price.

You are Kenichi Yamada, a man who once lived a life of blood. In cities across the Pacific, in the shadowed alleys hidden from the bright city lights, you walked a killer's path for the syndicate, and waged a killer's war. When circumstances forced you to leave Japan and come to America, many years ago now, you tried to leave that all behind.

When your young nephew, Ryuji, arrived here in Heat City to work for your niece, his sister Cat, the boy had some trouble adjusting. America was a loud, chaotic country full of guns, graffiti, and greasy food, and he found much of it bewildering. You took it upon yourself to watch over him, and see that he didn't get himself into too much trouble in a strange new land.

You have failed.
>>
>you failed

Ouch
>>
Updates: http://twitter.com/ravenkingquests

Previous Threads: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Thug%20Quest

Part 15: https://archived.moe/qst/thread/1042078/

Discord: https://discord.gg/3HegtNU
>>
>>1234271

When someone started banging on your door in the early hours last night, you got your old bones out of bed, tied on your yukata, picked up your sawed-off Remington shotgun, and went to see who it was.

Your niece Cat was there at the door, with tears on her face and blood on her hands. It was difficult to get anything coherent from her at first. You brought her inside, she drank some of the bourbon and hot chocolate you made her, and you started to get the story out of her.

Cat explained she'd just come from dropping off your family's new friend and enforcer, Johnny the thug, at a street doctor. He was comatose from blood loss at the time.

She went on to speak of the attack on her nightclub, how the Yakuza had shown up armed and in numbers. Overpowering her security forces, shooting up the club, terrorizing the patrons.

How a group of the gangsters, one of them wearing some kind of animal mask, blasted open the locked door to her counting room and roughly manhandled her away. Outside the club, into a car, and away into the streets.

How Johnny had come speeding out of the night in a red sports car, smashing the kidnappers' car off to the side of the road, but in the process crashing and rolling his own. How despite grievous injury he had struggled free and dispatched the driver, the woman in the mask.

How Cat had killed a man with her own hands for the first time that night, wrestling the gangster's knife away from him and driving it into his throat, his blood staining her hands. She grew distant at that point, her eyes staring at nothing. You knew that she was seeing the man die again and again. You're a killer yourself, and you knew she would be seeing him die for the rest of her life.

How Johnny had passed out in a nearby alley, covered in a dozen people's blood, including his own. She had paid a passing cabbie $500 cash to drive them to a street doctor of Johnny's acquaintance and not ask questions.
>>
>>1234357

"And Ryuji?" you prompted her. "Where is he?"

Her eyes filled up with tears again. "Ryuji -- he -- they --" She broke down, sobbing.

On the outside, you continued to play the considerate uncle. You put your arms around Catherine and comforted her, even as you went cold inside, like fingers of ice had gripped your heart.

They will pay.
>>
>>1234370
This sounds like when we break out the hi-ex.
>>
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>>1234370

Catherine eventually tells you the story Johnny told her -- that Ryuji had stayed behind to delay the attackers, while Johnny came after her. It's not certain that your nephew is dead. But his fate looks grim.

You think about taking Ryuji to Johnny's new house the other day, and how beforehand, the two of you had gone shopping for housewarming gifts. Ryuji had struggled between several choices, thinking that perhaps it should be an appropriate gift for an American, such as a gun or a barbecue grill. In the end, you convinced him that the gift should represent the giver as well as the receiver, and that you should both get him something from your homeland Japan. Eventually he settled on a bonsai tree. He scrutized each one of the available trees in great detail before selecting the one he felt had the right balance.

On the ride over to Johnny's house, Ryuji practiced the English phrases that would explain the significance of keeping such a tree, and how a man might go an entire year and only cut a single branch. Trimming the tree's slow growth over the course of decades could be a way for a man to understand the virtues of patience and foresight, to act carefully and take the long view.

In the end, when it came time to present the gift, Ryuji forgot his English. He thrust the tree awkwardly into Johnny's hands while mumbling in Japanese. It was up to you to explain the basics of the tree and its keeping. You thought, at the time, that Ryuji could always fill in the details later.

Now that might never happen.

You think of the bonsai tree sitting there in Johnny's house. It might be all that's left of Ryuji for Johnny to remember him by.

As time goes on, will Johnny remember what it means? Will he carefully trim the tree once or twice a year, thinking about his young friend, and the sacrifice he made? Or will the passing of years and the fading of memory make the tree into just another houseplant?
>>
>>1234439

In Japan, warriors are often compared to the petals of the sakura, the cherry blossom tree. Rather than grow old and wither, they cast themselves from the branch at the height of their strength and beauty.

You never imagined that you'd be the one to grow old, while your brother's son, the polite, serious boy you took on fishing trips, would suffer a warrior's end.

You don't know that he's dead. But it might be better to accept the worst instead of holding onto hope. Masamune's men aren't the type to show mercy or forgiveness, or to leave a job half-done.

Catherine is still sitting on your couch, in shock, gripping tightly to a second mug of brandy and hot chocolate.

You stare out your window at the black night and the brightly-lit city. Somewhere out there is Masamune Kojiro, the man responsible for this.

The phone in the kitchen rings.

>Answer the phone.
>Stay with Catherine.
>Get dressed, pick up your gun, and leave.
>>
>>1234473
>Answer the phone.
>>
>>1234499

Hesitantly, you pick up the phone. It might be one of Johnny's friends, ready to help. Or ...

"Hello?" you say in English.

The voice on the other end answers in Japanese. A deep, cultured voice, all too familiar. "Is that you, Kenichi? It's been some time. How has America been treating you?"

>Rage at Heaven: "Masamune, you son of a bitch. What have you done to Ryuji?"
>Observe Formality: "Masamune-san, please. Surely we can negotiate."
>Seek Harmony: "Kojiro-kun, we were once friends. We don't have to do this."
>>
>>1234595
>Observe Formality: "Masamune-san, please. Surely we can negotiate."

It's business . . . It's business ti~ime!
>>
>>1234595
>>Seek Harmony: "Kojiro-kun, we were once friends. We don't have to do this."
We have to try, no matter how angry we are, to hold onto peace, however tenuous it may be.
>>
>>1234595
"Well enough. I had been enjoying what was supposed to have been my requested retirement for a while."
>>
Also, have a Catherine.
>>
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>>1234675
Thanks anon

>>1234626
>>1234629
>>1234645

I'll see if I can balance these. Writing.
>>
>>1234687

You start out slow. The important thing here is to keep your anger under control, even though a cold fury threatens to consume you. "Well enough, Masamune-san. Enjoying my retirement."

"Come now, Ken. Is that what you call it? Retirement? If you wanted to stay retired, you should have kept your nose out of our business like the bosses told you. Instead, you kept hanging around that bratty little niece of yours. What was her name? Some ridiculous Russian name like her mother's, wasn't it? How is she, by the way? A little shaken up, perhaps?"

"I wouldn't know," you say, looking at her in the other room. "I haven't seen her."

"You're probably lying, but just in case you're not, I'll tell you that I sent my men to Enigma tonight."

"I don't suppose you sent them to compliment my niece on how well she's done for herself as a businesswoman here in America?"

"Don't play innocent with me, Ken. You know why I'm here in Heat City. Catherine Yamada owes a debt to the syndicate, and I intend to make her pay. One way or another."

"What "debt" is this, Masamune-san? Catherine has earned a lot of money for you over the years--"

"Enough games! We know it was her who stole from the Dragon's Nest. Twenty million dollars, Kenichi! Did she think she could just walk away with that money? That no-one would come for her? The Triads are our allies. They cannot accept this. And neither can we."

"Kojiro-kun, please," you say, trying to appeal to your old friendship, to search for a path to peace, however tenuous it might be. "You and I were once friends. We don't have to do this. Surely we can negotiate something that doesn't involve bloodshed."

"Is that what you think we were? Friends?" Masamune laughs. "It doesn't matter. You're talking to the wrong man for peace. The syndicate doesn't send me to negotiate. I tell people how it is. They either accept, or they die. That's all there is to it."

With a sinking feeling, you acknowledge to yourself that he's right. Kojiro's masters back in Japan don't let their attack dog off the leash unless they don't mind if things get bloody.

"Now listen to me very carefully," says Masamune, "because I've got a message for your niece. Somehow she slipped through our fingers. But we've still got leverage.

"We have your precious little nephew. Still alive. But barely. Do you understand me? Whether he lives or dies is up to you. Get us the money from Dragon's Nest. All of it. We'll exchange Ryuji for twenty million. Not a penny less."

>Why should I believe you? Prove that he's alive.
>Okay. We'll do it. (Truth)
>Okay. We'll do it. (Lie)
>The money's already been split up. We need time. (Stall)
>You won't get a dime from us, you motherfucker.
>>
>>1234831
>Why should I believe you? Prove that he's alive.

Like you said, you're just the attack dog. They don't send you to negotiate. Now you're humping the Triads leg when they tell you to.

It's good to know you never considered us friends. That makes this easier.
>>
>>1234831
>>Why should I believe you? Prove that he's alive.
>>
>>1234831
>>Why should I believe you? Prove that he's alive.
>The money's already been split up. We need time. (Stall)
We DO need proof of life, we know the yakuza makes empty promises for money at times, but at the same time we really do need time to prepare everything...and by everything, I mean "to update catherine, load ourselves up like Space Marines, grab Johnny - who seems to operate on Frank Miller rules - and fall on his head like a colony drop".
>>
>>1234849
In addition to this, no fingers. I want to hear him now.
>>
>>1234844
>It's good to know you never considered us friends. That makes this easier

NOT THIS! Please, not this, do NOT let him know we're going to smash him in the face, or Ryu's dead.
>>
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>>1234439
Ryuji is 2pure.
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>>1234831
>Why should I believe you? Prove that he's alive.
I get the feeling he's going to refuse.
Also, try and stay polite. At least have a moral victory or something.

>>1234862
Seconding. That's the dumbest thing to say.
>>
>>1234855
Yeah, you think they're letting any of us walk? It would be better to use the 20 million to hire mercs and weapons to go fuck him up.
>>
>>1234862
I meant it in more of a "it's just business now" way. Also in a "It's awkward to pity a friend, but easy to pity an enemy." Way
>>
>>1234868
Yeah, that's my point, use that "stall" time to load for bear so we can break into his house, grab Ryuji, kill him, and piss on his pillows.
>>
>>1234831
You know, back in the old days, our clan never would have even thought of joining with the Triads in any sort of deal. My father went to the grave hating them, as did yours. As I recall, he even committed seppuku in protest to the clan's deal.
>>
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Now have a truck.
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>>1234831

At the thought of Ryuji alive, your heart leaps. But you force yourself to stay in control. Masamune was never a man of honor. There's no guarantee this isn't just a blatant lie.

"Why should I believe you? Prove that he's alive. Put him on the phone, now. I want to speak with him."

"I can't," says Masamune.

"Damn you, Masamune, put him on the phone!"

"No, I mean, I literally can't," sighs Masamune. "The boy is unconscious. Might be for some time. Matsumoto gave him a good knock on the head with his kanabo. And if he does wake up, his eggs might be a little scrambled, if you know what I mean. Who knows when he'll be in condition to talk? But I'm sure with some rest and recovery, he'll be fine. I would hate for something terrible to happen to him because his uncle and sister were too stingy."

"We'll try to get the money," you say. "But we need time. We've already given out everyone their cut. Catherine will have to--"

"I'm not interested in excuses or delays," says Masamune. "Twenty million dollars. Twenty-four hours. Every time the clock runs out, I chop off another body part and send it to you in the mail. It doesn't end until I get my money."

"You son of a bitch," you say, involuntarily tightening your grip on the phone. "If you hurt one hair on Ryuji's head, I'll -- I'll --"

"You'll what?" asks Masamune, and laughs. "You're retired, remember? You've lost it, old man. The days when you could take on a dozen soldiers are long past. My men have been watching you. You're weak. America has made you soft. Too many hamburgers.

"Twenty million. Twenty-four hours. Answer this phone then, and we'll tell you the drop point. Don't answer, or stall, and the chopping starts.

"Good talk, Ken." He hangs up.

You stand there staring at the phone in your hand.

If you got the heist crew together ... they've worked with Ryuji before. It might be enough of a bond for them to want to help.

They might agree to the ransom. But they might not. They'll argue. Some will want to pay, others will insist on planning a daring rescue. Even if they agree to pay, some will have spent a portion of their share -- Johnny already bought his once-great manor and a pickup truck. Do you even still have twenty million to give to the Yakuza if you wanted?

Bringing the crew together would mean help, but it would also mean delay. Argument. Conflict.

Maybe one man could take care of this now.

>Call the heist crew together.
>Talk to Catherine.
>Get dressed, get your guns, and leave.
>>
>>1235007
>>Call the heist crew together.
>>
>>1235007
>>Get dressed, get your guns, and leave.
>>
>>1235007
>Get dressed. get your guns, and leave.
Time to do some solo badassery. As much as it'd be interesting to see how Johnny acts when we aren't in the pilot seat.
>>
>>1235007
>>Get dressed, get your guns, and leave.
Add in grabbing our grandfather's swords, and then we're good.

Because I'll be damned if we don't have a swordfight on top of a building.
>>
>>1235036
>>1235042
>>1235043

>>Get dressed, get your guns, get your swords, and leave.

Writing.
>>
>>1235007
>>Call the heist crew together.
But gather our guns as well. Seriously though, this shit involves the crew too.
>>
>>1235100
Can we add in a ridiculous amount of C4?

And to maybe leave Catherine a note?
>>
>>1235100
I'd have voted for getting the heist crew together if I was in time as well.
>>
>>1235042
>When Johnny learns what we did and comes to help

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2TaDcId8QKk#t=3135

hopefully I did it right
>>
>>1235154
Apparently not.

Just go to 31:35 and continue watching.

In fact, just watch the whole damn thing. It's gloriously stupid.
>>
>>1235100

Soundtrack: Japanese Drums
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qupswFhMCxI

You get dressed. Basic clothes, dark coat, sturdy boots.

You get your guns. Springfield rifle. Remington sawn-off. M1911 pistol.

You stop near the front door and look at the living room. Catherine is lying there, curled up on the couch, asleep or passed out, maybe somewhere in between. She still looks troubled, even asleep like that. A lock of dark hair falls across her face. Poor girl. She's been through hell already tonight.

You scrawl a quick note for her. "I will find him."

Into your car. The black Dodge Challenger. Turn the key. The engine roars. You take off towards the city, the lights of the streetlamps flying past you. You grip the steering wheel tightly, keeping focused on the road ahead.

Before this happened, you and Ryuji tracked down three leads that might lead you to the top of the Yakuza pyramid. A ring of street racers, Japanese-style drifters, down in the Grove. A politician with his hand in the Yakuza's pockets. And a high-class cathouse, providing expensive escorts for discriminating customers.

The plan was to investigate them slowly, build up a plan, then execute it efficiently, with as little danger or room for error as possible. None of that matters now. They have Ryuji. You're going to do whatever it takes to find him. No matter whose bones you have to break. No matter who dares stand in your way.

You step down harder on the gas. The city comes closer.

>Drift racers in Tangerine Grove
>Politician's residence in Castle Green
>Escorts in Blue Ridge
>>
>>1235274
>>Escorts in Blue Ridge
They'd have more people to.... question.
>>
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>>1235274
>>Politician's residence in Castle Green

PIC RELATED
>>
>>1235274
>>Politician's residence in Castle Green
>>
>>1235274
>>Drift racers in Tangerine Grove
Start at the bottom. Weakest link.
>>
>>1235274
>Politician's residence in Castle Green
We gonna see more of Aidan Gillan?
>>
>>1235274
>Politician's residence in Castle Green

Let's start high and work our way down.

I say we "knock" by stealing a car, setting it on fire, and finding a brick to drive it into their house.

Then we can go around the back way undisturbed.
>>
>>1235332
Supporting.
>>
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>>1235287
>>1235299
>>1235304
>>1235332

You drive into Castle Green, one of the city's fancy neighborhoods for high rollers. The politician lives in a row of opulent townhouses. You park the Challenger a couple blocks away from the house in question, then prepare to make your move. You've got your guns, a spare can of gasoline, and one other thing: a wakizashi, or short sword. You gave the ancestral katana to Ryuji, but if carrying around one sword in the 20th century is strange, two is definitely pushing it. So you held onto it.

The sky is just starting to lighten with the first glimmers of dawn.

You look down the street at the politician's house, thinking about your strategy.

趁火打劫 Loot a Burning House: Create a big, flaming problem for the people inside. (2 votes already)
浑水摸鱼 Stir up the Waters to catch a Fish: Cause confusion outside, then sneak inside.
关门捉贼 Shut the Door to catch the Thief: Infiltrate and shut off any routes of escape.
>>
>>1235400
>趁火打劫 Loot a Burning House: Create a big, flaming problem for the people inside. (2 votes already)
>>
>>1235400
>趁火打劫 Loot a Burning House: Create a big, flaming problem for the people inside. (2 votes already)
>>
>>1235400
>趁火打劫 Loot a Burning House: Create a big, flaming problem for the people inside. (2 votes already)
>>
>>1235400
>趁火打劫 Loot a Burning House: Create a big, flaming problem for the people inside. (2 votes already)
>>
>>1235400

Soundtrack: Yoshida Brothers - Ibuki
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0p_yo_VGOSw


Another quiet night in Castle Green. Tall trees and greenery line both sides of the street next to well-swept sidewalks. Half the city's rich and famous live here, and they pay well to the HCPD to keep as much of the riff-raff out of here as possible. As you get the spare can of gasoline from the trunk of your car, close the trunk, and walk over to a likely-looking car to steal, you wonder if these ritzy types have any idea of the sorts of things that happen here anyway.

The residence has a guard standing out front, a burly man in a suit. Just an ordinary night on guard duty in front of the He stands alert, his hands at a relaxed but ready position, prepared for the ordinary hazards of the city -- a noisy vagrant, a stumbling drunk, a shrieking Z-head, a casual thief.

He's definitely not prepared for a burning car to come screeching out of the darkness, smash through the iron rail fence, and crash into the front window of the house. Glass shatters, wood snaps, bricks crunch.

Fueled by the gasoline, the flames soon spread to the drapes, then to the framing and inside. Even the nearby garden plants take the fire and begin burning brightly. The flames begin climbing, burning higher, brighter in intensity.

The gate guard darts back and forth, unsure of what to do, whether to abandon his post. Two more guards come out from the front door, shouting both at each other and at the gate guard. They're forced to back away as the flames spread toward the door, and the heat becomes unbearable. An automated fire alarm is blaring its shrill whistle.

While all this is happening, you've crept around to the back door. It's locked, but there's nothing like a shotgun for blasting a door lock. You blow it to smithereens and kick open the door. A guard stands there -- he heard the threat behind him, but was caught awkwardly in the act of moving forward towards the fire, and is still turning towards you when you fire the second shell into his stomach.

He's wearing a vest. The shotgun just knocks him down.

You're in some kind of kitchen. You see the knife block and snatch up a kitchen knife, land with your knee on the guard's chest, and slash his throat. Blood jets to the side, immediately forming a puddle on the tile floor. The man gurgles, bubbles popping in his crimson throat. His legs kick as his life bleeds away.

You hear more shouting. They probably heard that, but you might still have a minute before they figure out how to divide their attention between the fire and the gunshots.

Ahead of you is a living room, and beyond that, the room smashed in by your car, brightly ablaze in flames that waft heat towards you even now. To your left is a stairway up, and past that, some kind of study or library.

>Go forward into the living room.
>Wait and blast any guards who come around the corner.
>Go left into the study.
>Go up the stairs.
>>
>>1235588
>>Wait and blast any guards who come around the corner.
>>
>>1235588
>>Go left into the study.
It's either that or the bedroom.
>>
>>1235588
>>Wait and blast any guards who come around the corner.
>>
>>1235588
>>Go left into the study.
>>
>>1235588
>>Go left into the study.
>>
>>1235607
>>1235614
>>1235629

>>Go left into the study.

Writing.
>>
>>1235588
>Go into the study

We weren't subtle. I'm sure anyone in danger is getting out of it.

Or not.

Fuck 'em.
>>
>>1235649

You take the hallway to your left, breech-loading your shotgun as you do so. The fire alarm screeches in your ears. Over it you hear shouts of renewed alarm from the living room as guards spot their friend in a puddle of his own blood on the kitchen floor, but you've ducked out of sight in the hallway. They still don't know where you are. For now.

The door to the sturdy is ajar, and you push it open with the tip of the shotgun and sweep the room. Nobody here. You see a wide desk of rich wood, covered in documents and papers. Shelves of books of the kind that aren't actually read, just bought as room decoration to look erudite.

You snatch up some of the papers and scan them. Shipping manifests. You recognize this company. Catherine gathered a lot of information in preparation for the heist on Dragon's Nest, and some of it involved the Z shipping routes. She shared her suspicions with you that the Triad-Yakuza alliance must have had some kind of political insider keeping pressure off the docks and the chemical shipments there that fueled the Z trade. It looks like she was right, and you've finally found your man.

The air is already filling with smoke. You stuff the shipping documents into your jacket pocket, then raise your shirt over your mouth with one hand, trying to use it as a makeshift filter, while holding your shotgun with the other.

To your right is the staircase upstairs, and beyond it, the kitchen, with a dead guard and a lot of attention. Forward is a hallway with two doors.

>Go forward, check the doors.
>Go up the stairs.
>Go back to the kitchen and fight the guards.
>>
>>1235722
>>Go up the stairs.
>>
>>1235722

>Forward, check the doors

Only the biggest fucking idiot goes UPWARDS when the house is on fire. Our target is probably still on this floor if he was here to begin with.
>>
>>1235722
>>Go up the stairs.
Bedroom
>>
>>1235727
Bedrooms are usually on the second floor.
>>
>>1235722

>Go forward, check the doors

Ideally people upstairs will come down and occupy the guards.
>>
>>1235722
>>Go forward, check the doors.
>>
>>1235722
>>Go forward, check the doors.
>>
You move forward, slipping past the doorway to the living room when the guards aren't looking. There are two doors, one ahead of you, one to the left.

You shove open the one in front of you, shotgun at the ready. A bathroom of white porcelain. Empty. You leave it, go the other door, kick it open, and level you gun.

Inside is a room with colorful wallpaper. Model airplanes hang from the ceiling. Cartoon dinosaurs roar at each other on the carpet. Toys lie tossed about on the ground. A child's room. At first you think the room is empty, but then you see movement under the bed.

>Look under the bed.
>Leave.
>>
>>1235775
>>Look under the bed.
>>
>>1235775
>>Leave.
>>
>>1235775
>>Leave.
It's best if they think we didn't see them.
>>
>>1235775
>Look under the bed.

See? Now we have to save a kid. Fuck.
>>
>>1235775
>>Look under the bed.
>>
>>1235788
Orrrrr we now have a hostage! Don't know why I complained.
>>
>>1235798
NO CHILD HOSTAGES. WE ARE DOING THIS TO GET OUR NEPHEW. DO YOU NOT SEE THE IRONY.
>>
>>1235775
>Leave
Not our circus, not our monkeys.
>>
>>1235798
Yeah, uh, that's too much hypocrisy for me, anon.
>>
3-3 tie, next vote will take it.
>>
>>1235788
Changing to look under the bed.
>>
>>1235824

You take a knee and look under the bed. Huddled underneath is a terrified little boy, maybe 5 or 6 years old.

For a brief moment, the idea of taking the child hostage flickers through your mind. If you threatened the boy, you could secure his father's cooperation. Then the irony of that crashes into you. You're on a mission to save your nephew, who you care about like he was your own son -- taking another man's child hostage might be too much hypocrisy to bear.

Another part of you doesn't care. It demands justice. Revenge. Blood. No matter what.

>Take the boy hostage.
>Open the window and help him escape.
>Leave.
>Kill him
>>
>>1235850
>>Open the window and help him escape.
>>
>>1235850
>>Open the window and help him escape.
"where is your father"
>>
>>1235855
Tell him to grab some shoes.
>>
>>1235850
>>Open the window and help him escape.
"Get some shoes on."
>>
>>1235850
>>Open the window and help him escape.
"If you see your father, have him tell the Yakuza that the Triads are getting their money themselves."
>>
>>1235871
We don't want the kid to have any knowledge of this. Could end up getting him hurt.
>>
You sigh as you shut the dooor behind you, put down the shotgun on a toy chest, and beckon to the child. "Come on, son. I'm here to help. I'm going to get you out of here."

Convincing kids to trust you is something you've had experience with. You remember coaxing Ryuji out from his hiding places after his father struck him, and try to adopt the same manner as back then.

Apparently it works, because after a few moments of hesitation, the boy squirms out from under his bed. You quickly help him pull on some shoes, then take his hand and bring him over to the window. It jams, and it takes a few shoves, but you manage to get it open. Outside is a short drop into a flower garden.

"Okay, here we go!" You grab the kid by his waist and hold him up to the window, but he suddenly starts to kick and wriggle.

"Stop!" he shouts. "I can't go out there!"

"What? Why not?"

He looks embarassed. "I ... I peed in that garden last night."

You can't help but laugh at the absurdity of the situation. "Sorry, kid. Better that than the fire. Out you go!"

With your help, the boy manages to get outside, and you drop him the short distance to the dirt. He lands on his feet, then looks up at you and gives you a cheerful gap-toothed smile and a thumbs-up. "Thanks, mister!"

You wave him off. "You're welcome, now get out of here! Go find a policeman or a firefighter!"

You hear a thumping sound from behind you. You lunge to the door of the child's room and open it to hear people exiting the stairway. "This way, Mr. Councilman!" you hear one of them shout as they move to the back door, where you came in.

Son of a bitch. He's getting away, thanks to your sudden attack of morality!

Swift Death to Evil: Pursue, cautious but relentless.
Rage at Heaven: Charge after them, heedless of your own safety.
Flowing Water: Follow them outside, find a way to ambush them.
Thirty-Sixth Strategem: Retreat.
>>
>>1235926
>Swift Death to Evil: Pursue, cautious but relentless.
>>
>>1235926
>Swift Death to Evil: Pursue, cautious but relentless.
>>
>>1235926
>Swift Death to Evil: Pursue, cautious but relentless.
He is not escaping.
>>
>>1235926
>Swift Death to Evil: Pursue, cautious but relentless.
>>
>>1235931
>>1235932
>>1235934
>>1235941

Let's have some d10 rolls and see how swiftly evil dies.
>>
Rolled 3 (1d10)

>>1235965
>>
Rolled 8 (1d10)

>>1235965
the hesitation is real
>>
Rolled 4 (1d10)

>>1235965
Here goes.
>>
Rolled 5 (1d10)

>>1235965
>>
>>1235967
>>1235970
>>1235971

3-8-4. Hey, that could be worse. Writing.
>>
>>1235975

No. You won't let him get away that easily. Swift death to evil. The allies of the Yakuza, those scum who betrayed and harmed your nephew, they deserve no mercy.

The outer walls of the townhouse are brick, but inside, it's all thin wood and cheap plaster. You move into the study, facing the wall separating you from the stairs. It's hard to hear anything over the screeching fire alarm, but you can still hear the thump of footsteps still coming down. You take a moment to line up the angle, then pull the double trigger and fire both shotgun barrels into the wooden wall. BOOM-BOOM.

The wall shreds into splinters. You hear a cry of shock and agony, and as the wall crumbles away, you see a wounded guard sprawled on the stairs, clutching at his bleeding face. You quickly draw your M1911 with your left hand and put a killshot into his skull.

You feel a stinging pain in your forearm and realize that a six-inch wooden splinter from the wall is jutting out. You holster your pistol, pull out the splinter while grunting in pain, then flip open the shotgun breech and slot in two more shells, coughing as you do so. Your throat is catching, your lungs starting to fill up with smoke. The heat from the fire is unbearable. You've got to get the hell out of here!

Another guard is standing by the back door. The shotgun got his attention, and he's ready for you, firing his Smith & Wesson revolver. The first shot goes wide, and you pull yourself back behind the wall and duck, with reflexes born of experience.

You stick your gun around the corner of the doorway and blind-fire your shotgun in the guard's approximate direction. BOOM-BOOM. Rewarded with pained cries, you look out to see him on the ground with his hand and arm bloodied, badly peppered with shot. The great thing about shotguns, you think, walking towards the man on the ground as you pop the breech and chamber another two shells, is you barely have to aim. You lower the shotgun, pointing it approximately at the man's face. "Nonono pleasedon'tkillmepleasedon't--" BOOM.

Swift death to evil.

You go out into the backyard. You can see the politican there, Councilman Johnson, a fat man running unsteadily towards the back fence. You start to raise the shotgun, but before you aim, the final guard lunges out from his hiding position and grabs you from behind! He gets an arm around your throat and starts to choke the life out of you.

You struggle to get free. The shotgun is still in your hand, but blood is surging through your head, your vision exploding in stars. You only have one shot before you drop the gun.

>Shoot the politician, wounding him and stopping his escape.
>Shoot the guard, protecting yourself.
>>
>>1236007
>>Shoot the politician, wounding him and stopping his escape.
Aim low.
>>
>>1236007
>>Shoot the politician, wounding him and stopping his escape.
>>
>>1236007
>>Shoot the politician, wounding him and stopping his escape.

We can CQC the guard.
>>
>>1236007
>>Shoot the guard, protecting yourself.
Don't need to pass out just yet.
>>
>>1236007
> Shoot Politician

> Shoot guard

We still have our handgun yes?
>>
>>1236007
>>1236042

> Fat man running towards fence

Change to shoot the guard then shout out you found his son hiding under his bed, and that he got out safe.
>>
>>1236048
Why say that? Say we have the son! We've gotten all the guards after this one. We could even capture him alive with that.
>>
>>1236055
He doesn't know we're a lone actor also. Walk him to the car, KO him, lock him up with a guard's restraints.

All sorts of stuff we can do with that.
>>
File: drivecqc.jpg (19 KB, 480x360)
19 KB
19 KB JPG
>>1236020
>>1236021
>>1236022

>>Shoot the politician, wounding him and stopping his escape.

Roll a d10 for that and to CQC the guard afterwards.
>>
Rolled 10 (1d10)

>>1236063
>>
Rolled 3 (1d10)

>>1236063
>>
Rolled 5 (1d10)

>>1236063
>>
>>1236068
>>1236071
>>1236075

10-3-5, decent rolls, although maybe not the ideal order. Writing.
>>
>>1236089

Struggling to breathe, to get blood into your brain past the chokehold, you still decide your top priority is stopping that fat fuck from escaping. You can deal with the asshole choking you out in a minute ...

You manage to aim the shotgun and pull the trigger. Johnson's leg blows off at the knee, the lower part barely connected by thin flesh ribbons. He falls onto the concrete path, shrieking in agony.

Your vision is blacking out. You drop the Remington and get your M1911 out of its holster. The big guard behind you slaps it out of your hand, but that at least gives you some room to loosen the choke hold and take a breath. Oxygen rushes into your lungs, and you renew your efforts to get free.

This guard is a tough bastard. He maintains his hold one-armed for a few moments, using the other hand for a series of punches to your side and back, aiming for your kidneys. One of them hits home, a feeling like a stick of dynamite going off in your guts. Your knees buckle, your lungs are still desperate for air, and he takes advantage of the opportunity, hurling you off-balance and onto the ground.

The guard steps over you, grabs you by the collar, hauls you up into a sitting position, and delivers a right cross straight to your face. Brightly colored stars explode in your head. A second punch rocks you. A familar feeling.

"Had enough, old man?" taunts the guard.

You can't help but laugh, some of your blood spitting on the man's shirt. Does he think this is the first time you've taken a beating?

You draw your short sword and, in one powerful slice, cut off his left hand.

The man stares at his stump for a moment, not comprehending why he's lost his grip on your collar. A spurt of blood shoots out. He starts to scream, but you cut it off by slashing his throat with the wakizashi. You slash again, backhanded, and a third time with both hands, severing the spinal cord and the last of his neck. His head thumps to the ground, the body toppling over backwards.

You cough and retch violently, trying desperately to breathe. You push yourself up onto your hands and knees and vomit into the grass. All that smoke inhalation, then almost getting choked out, can't be good for an old man's health.

Fortunately, Mr. Johnson over there isn't going anywhere fast.

After a minute to collect yourself, you walk over to the politician. Councilman Johnson is making whimpering sounds, starting at the bloody stump where his shin used to be.

You squat down next to him. "I have only one question. Where is Masamune Kojiro?"

Johnson looks at you, aghast. "That stupid motherfucker? Oh, man ..." He flops back down onto the ground. "I knew all this was a bad idea. I'll tell you, b-but, only if you let me live, all right?"

>All right. (Truth)
>All right. (Lie)
>No.
>>
>>1236055
So that he thinks there's a chance of him surviving if he tells us where Ryuji is.
>>
>>1236217
>yes. (Lie)

Tell him we already saved his son.
>>
>>1236217
>>All right. (Truth)
If you didn't have a son I would execute you. Be good to him. Keep him off your path.
>>
>>1236217
>>All right. (Lie)
>>
>>1236217
>>All right. (Truth)
Don't want his son to see this.
>>
>>1236217
>>All right. (Truth)
Treat your kid right.
>>
>>1236236
>>1236241
>>1236244

He's going to tell them we're coming.
>>
>>1236250
We just tell him we'll be back if he warns them.
>>
>>1236244
>>1236241
These. Tell him if he breathes a word of this to anyone, we are going to come back and make his son an orphan while he watches.
>>
>>1236250
We could drag his ass to our car before he gets a call out, both as confirmation to his location and to use as a shield.

>>1236257
This too.
>>
>>1236236
>>1236241
>>1236244
>>1236257
>>1236262
>>1236265

Writing.
>>
>>1236276

"All right," you say. "I'm going to let you live. I don't want to your son to see this."

"My son!" Johnson gasps. "Jimmy!" He looks past you at the burning house. "H-he's only six years old, he's not-- Jimmy!!"

"He's safe," you say. "I got him out of there before he was harmed. He's not involved in this. It's not his fault his father is a scumbag."

"Oh, thank god," he says with as much relief as a man facing death with his leg blown off can muster.

You point the bloody short sword at his face. "You're got a chance to make it out of here alive and see him again. But if I find out you lied to me, or you warned the Yakuza, I'll come back. And I'll force your son to watch as I make him an orphan. Understand me?"

"Y-y-yes, a-a-anything ..."

"Okay. Now tell me where I can find Masamune."

Johnson groans as he tells you the address. He knows he's just signed his own death warrant with the Yakuza, but at least this way he has a chance. The Yakuza aren't currently standing in front of him holding a sword.

You look behind you. The house is a burning pyre now. You can see the fire trucks setting up out front. "The paramedics will be here soon. They'll patch up that stump of yours. While you learn to walk with a wooden leg, think about your life choices. Try to learn to live with some honor. Even if it's just for your son."

You open the door in the back fence and walk away.

Behind you, the flames continue to rise. A red dawn lights the sky.
>>
>>1236316
That's all for tonight, anons. Retired Yakuza Quest will resume tomorrow. Thanks for playing.
>>
>>1236316
>>1236328
Mate, thanks for running Retired Yakuza Quest. Ken is best badass uncle.
>>
>>1236316
Nice.

See you tomorrow, boss.
>>
File: tfw adversity.png (57 KB, 671x588)
57 KB
57 KB PNG
Hello anons. Unexpectedly long day. Back now, so I'll write a few updates here and see what happens.
>>
>>1240207
Welcome back. Caught me just as I was going to head off to bed, but I've always got time for katana battles and gunfights.
>>
You track down the address Councilman Johnson gave you, finding it in a light industrial zone out in Silver Pines. You park the Dodge Challenger across the street.

The place turns out to be a flat building with industrial doors, some kind of warehouse or packing plant. It's surrounded on three sides, the only approach through a parking lot crowded with cars. There aren't any windows, and the external lights are all turned off. Beyond the pools of light on the sidewalk from the street lamps, the whole place is shrouded in darkness.

You take out your Springfield rifle and scan the area through the scope. No good. The whole place is too dark. All you can see are dark shapes, and the faint moonlight reflections from the metal doors of the building and the cars in the parking lot.

You don't like this, but you've got no choice. If Ryuji is in there, then that's where you're going.

You make sure your guns ready. First the war souveniers, the Springfield and the 1911. Then the sawed-off Remington you bought for home defense. The irony is not lost on you that the first time you ever used it was to assault someone else's home.

No sense in waiting around. You get out of the car, shut the door, and start walking into the shadowed parking lot, shotgun at the ready.

You have a bad feeling about this, you realize as you walk through the darkness. Other than the sounds of the city, seeming so far away now, there's a dead silence. The rows of cars on either side of you feel like they're watching you with their blank headlights, like silent guardians of steel and glass. Fear pulses in your heart.

You realize, for a moment, just how crazy this is. You can't take on the entire syndicate by yourself.

Can you?

If it'll save Ryuji, you're damn sure going to try.

As you approach the end of the cars, you realize you're not alone.

(Continued)
>>
>>1240359

"Good evening, Ken-kun," purrs a feminine voice in Japanese. "It's been a long time. Have you missed me?"

A single flame appears, lighting a woman in a white kitsune mask, striped with red. The flame appears to hover in midair over her open hand, palm held up -- one of her little stage magic tricks.

"Akane-chan," you say. "It doesn't have to come to this. I only want my nephew back. You were always the reasonable one. Can't you see that what Kojiro is doing is--"

"Exactly what he has to do," says Akane. "I've helped you before, Ken-kun, even when I shouldn't have. But not tonight. Kojiro has too much riding on this. I won't fail him."

"Akane, please. I don't want to fight you."

She laughs. "Fight me? What do you think you're doing here, old man? Do you really think that you've outsmarted Kojiro, that your nephew is really here? Don't you realize you're walking into a trap?"

The high-beam headlights of the cars turn on, all at once, all around you. The brightness sears into your eyes. You take a step back, blinded, trying to raise your left hand to block out the light, but it comes from every direction. You can just make out the shadowed silhouettes of man moving in from between the cars. You hear the clink of chains, see the steel glint of knives and pistols.

>Flowing Water: Evade and redirect their attacks.
>Rage at Heaven: Go after them. Annihilate them with your anger.
>Standing Mountain: Stand your ground. Let them break upon you.
>Swift Death to Evil: Dispatch them with efficiency.
>>
>>1240428
>Flowing Water: Evade and redirect their attacks.
See if we can use their own weapons against them.
>>
>>1240428
>Flowing water
>>
>>1240428
>>Flowing Water: Evade and redirect their attacks.
>>
>>1240428
>>Flowing Water: Evade and redirect their attacks.
No reason to spend ourselves at this point. We still need to save our nephew.
>>
>>1240437
>>1240438
>>1240441
>>1240464

Evading and redirecting. Roll some d10s and let's see how you do.
>>
>Flowing Water: Evade and redirect their attacks.
>>
Rolled 10 (1d10)

>>1240470
Time to John Wick
>>
Rolled 4 (1d10)

>>
Rolled 4 (1d10)

>>1240470
Rollin
>>1240474
Makes me not to want to roll....
>>
>>1240470
10-4-4
Uhhh..... at least we had a great start
>>
>>1240474
>>1240476
>>1240478
>>1240481

Always good to start out strong, right? Writing.
>>
>>1240487

Soundtrack: DJ Krush - Beyond Raging Waves
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OrZhdzGaPxo

You take a deep breath, close your eyes, and empty your mind.

You think of water. Flowing in rivers, falling in raindrops, crashing in waves. Water is formless. Shapeless. A teapot of water can be poured into a cup. A tsunami can smash entire villages to splinters. Water can be anything it needs to be.

When the first Yakuza thug approaches you, a whirling a length of heavy chain, you don't even need to open your eyes. You can hear the chain clearly, smell the alcohol on the man's breath, feel his heavy steps through the ground, the air as he moves to attack. You lean back at the right moment and feel a breeze pass as the chain whistles through the air where your head was. A second and third attack follow. You dodge them easily, weaving back a few steps, your eyes still closed as you listen intently to the chain links clinking together.

The gangster with the chain growls and goes to attack again, and at the same time, two of his friends approach you, one from either side. You duck back, turn to the right, and shoulder-check that gangster from behind, shoving him into the path of the chain strike. You open your eyes to be rewarded by the sight of him being lashed in the face by the heavy metal chain and bumping into the chain-wielder, knocking them both off balance.

The third gangster has a knife, and he's a fast one, lunging forward in a deadly strike. You parry the blow with the stock of your shotgun and step aside, sending him off-balance and stumbling forward. You put a shell into the back of his head and see his skull burst, his brains splatter.

You hear pistol shots. Two gangsters outside the circle are firing in, trying to hit you. A bullet whizzes past your ear. The man struck by the chain is still reeling, his face bleeding heavily -- you club him and knock him down, then grab his friend, the one who struck him, and shove him in the direction of the gunshots. Too bad humans don't act like bulletproof shields outside of the movies, but it's at least a useful distraction, and gets the man killed by his friend as a pistol shot finds his forehead. You fire your shotgun in that direction, but hit nothing but air. With no time to reload, you're forced to drop the shotgun and take out your pistol, firing wildly, finally rewarded with two strangled cries. More shots come from a different direction, one just barely clipping your shoulder like a deadly hornet. You drop to one knee, turn and fire. Just as the last shot fires, and the gun clicks on empty, you hear your target grunt and collapse.

(Continued)
>>
>>1240531

Another group of gangsters enters the circle of bright lights. Four this time. You slam another magazine into your pistol and manage to fire off a shot, taking out one of them with a headshot. Then, with no time left, you draw your wakizashi. A brutal melee scuffle ensues, a confused fight at close quarters with knives against your short sword. You use their attacks against each other, redirecting blows with aikido deflections and sword parries.

The pistol gets knocked away from you, into the darkness, but you still have the sword. You hack off fingers, limbs, ears, eyes. At some point you feel a vicious, stabbing pain in your back, but fight on regardless.

Finally the four lie on the ground, groaning in agony as they bleed out. You reach around to your back, fumbling, eventually finding the knife embedded there. Wincing, you leave it for now despite the pain, hoping it will block some of the blood loss.

"Aaargh!" shrieks Akane. "I can't believe this! He's just one man, you stupid shits! He's been retired for a decade! Aren't you supposed to be hard gangsters? GET HIM!"

The rest of the Yakuza, a half-dozen tattooed and suited thugs, approach warily, fists and weapons raised.

Choose 2:
>Protect yourself
>Inflict great harm
>Frighten and scatter the gangsters
>Seize Akane
>>
>>1240542
>Frighten the gangster
>Inflict great harm
Best defense is good offense
>>
>>1240542
>>Protect yourself
>>Seize Akane

how special is Akane to Kojiro
is she is little sister or something
>>
>>1240546
Seconding
>>
>>1240546
>>1240549
Sure mate seize the elite badass ganger with a knife on our back I'm sure nothing will go wrong.
>>
>>1240546

The o-bake -- the masked warriors -- are Kojiro's chosen elites.

He may have a special relationship with Akane now that you're not in the picture anymore.
>>
>>1240546
>>1240549

>>Protect yourself
>>Seize Akane

Roll them d10s.
>>
>>1240546
You seriously expect a man like Kojiro has a soft spot for that. By his description his job comes first and everything secondary
>>
Rolled 7 (1d10)

Here's hoping it works out
>>
Rolled 9 (1d10)

>>1240556

>>1240558
no but she will have the info we need
>>
Rolled 10 (1d10)

>>1240556
>>
>>1240561
>>1240563
>>1240583
ohh fuck ya

bitch tell us where Ruyji is
>>
>>1240561
Looks like we're golden.
>>
Rolled 2 (1d10)

>>1240556
eh, nuthin personell kid
>>
>>1240561
>>1240563
>>1240583

Breathing heavily, you reach down and pick up one of the knives on the ground. Holding the wakizashi in your right hand, and the knife in your left, you prepare to meet the last wave of Yakuza. Staying on the defensive, you move to the side carefully, fully alert, your weapons ready. The gangsters are nervous, shaken by their comrades' deaths. They attack you cautiously, hesitantly. You easily deflect and block each blow, totally focused. You stare the six of them down. Some of them take a step back.

Sensing an opportunity, you suddenly break away from the group and rush past them, straight towards Akane. She yelps in sudden fear, pulls something out from her sleeve, and throws it at the ground between the two of you. It explodes in a burst of flaming liquid, the fire spreading across the ground. One of her homemade firebombs.

You don't care. You take a running leap, a feat you haven't performed for many years, but there's still some life in these old bones, and you easily clear the flames, hardly getting your feet warm.

You land in front of the fox-masked woman. "Hello, my dear," you say. "Shall we renew our acquaintance somewhere more private?"

She takes a step back. "Y-you wouldn't--" She starts to draw a pistol. "Keep your hands off me, you brute!"

Before she can get the pistol free, you're on her. Your left arm wraps around her, the knife point tickling her ribs. Your right arm goes under hers and locks it in place, while you hold the wakizashi to her throat.

"Nobody move!" you bark at the gangsters. "Masamune wouldn't want his precious little fox-girl damaged, would he? Or worse, as far as he's concerned--" You angle the sword upwards, putting the tip just under the edge of her mask and raising it out from her face a little. "Made a little less pretty?"

"Ken, please," she gasps, starting to panic. "Please, I -- I didn't --"

"I might not hurt you if you come along nicely," you growl. "Now move!"

You push Akane forward, making sure the blades stay close without hurting her -- yet. The gangsters move to either side, opening a path for you while glaring daggers at you.

"You'd better not follow us," you warn them. "I see any of your ugly faces, her throat gets cut, and you'll have to explain yourself to Masamune. If I don't kill you first."

They stay where they are, as you drag your hostage out of the shadowed parking lot, towards your car.

(Continued)
>>
>>1240590

You throw Akane roughly into the backseat of the Challenger, and climb in there alongside her. You rip the kitsune mask off her, exposing her face. She glares at you, trying to hide the fear in her dark eyes.

It's been a long time since you've seen that face. You used to feel something when you saw her. Now look what it's come to.

"You know what I want to hear," you say, holding up the knife. "Where is Ryuji?"

She lifts her chin defiantly. "As if I'd ever betray Kojiro-san. I love him, and he loves me! He wouldn't abandon me like you did, you old pig. "

She's putting on a brave face, but you can tell she's terrified.

>I just want my nephew back.
>You'd better do it while you're still pretty.
>He doesn't care about you. He's using you.
>We had something once. Doesn't that mean anything?
>>
>>1240605
> Think he'll keep you around if you're no longer pretty?

> Or if you're crippled and can't fight anymore?

Seems like that would work more than disfigurement.

> You could have come with me. You still can.
>>
>>1240605
>>He doesn't care about you. He's using you.
>>We had something once. Doesn't that mean anything?

now all we need is a speaker phone call with him and maybe we can turn her
or
we have Johnny torture her
>>
>>1240605
>>He doesn't care about you. He's using you.
>I just want my nephew back.
>>
That's one vote for each option, so the next vote will take it.
>>
>>1240605
>I just want my nephew back.
>push her face into the dash
>Kojiro's not gonna want you back if that happens much more.
>>
>>1240621
she's kinda in the backseat
>>
>>1240625
Well, that doesn't matter to me, I'll intimidate people however I please without taking into mind what the QM laid out if it goes against what I want to do.
>>
>>1240634
well atlest your honest about
>>
>>1240605


Akane continues to act defiantly. "You wouldn't dare touch me, because of what he might do to you--"

You twist her head around and slam her face into the backseat window behind her.

"What do you think?" you say, pulling her towards you. "Is Kojiro going to want you around if you're no longer pretty? If I keep doing that, he won't want you back. I'd threaten to cripple you, and ruin your ability to fight, but we both know you're the weakest fighter in the o-bake. Those little bombs of yours are a cheap trick. He only keeps you around so he has someone to fuck when he's bored. What happens if he loses interest?"

"How dare you," she says, infuriated. "I -- I don't -- I won't--"

You smash her head into the glass again. "I'm not fucking around here!" you shout.

Tears start to stream down her cheeks. She bites her lip, trying to stop the flow, but they keep coming.

"Jesus," you say. "Akane-chan, listen to me. I didn't want this. I never wanted to hurt anyone again. But if Ryuji is in trouble ..." You can't finish the sentence.

She sniffs. "I understand. You love him like he was--"

"Yes. Like he was my own son."

She sighs heavily. Several moments pass in silence. Then she says, "Ryuji is in the kendo dojo. On Washington Street. Matsumoto is there."

You think of the gigantic man, the sadist who fashioned himself after the oni of legend. "I'll be ready for him."

Akane reaches for her gun. You warn her by raising the knife, but she says, "No, I-I want to give to you." Warily, you let her unholster it and hand it to you. An expensive German pistol, a perfect balance of power and efficiency. You take it, feeling the grip in your hand.

She shrugs. "So ... now what? Are you going to kill me?"

>Yes.
>No. Get out of town. I never want to see you again.
>No. It's not too late for you. Come with me.
>>
>>1240605
Ask if he'll still love her if her face was scarred.

If she says yes, we bluff having acid.
Or we KO her and show her what high concentrations of HydroChloric acid does to the human face via a pig.
>>
>>1240605
>He doesn't care about you. He's using you.
>I just want my nephew back.
>>
>>1240640
We make a call to Johnny. She'll be both safe there and a secondary hostage if things go south.

Nobody knows he lives there yet. Let alone it's connected to yakuza.
>>
>>1240647
this
>>
>>1240647
this
>>
>>1240640
>>No. Get out of town. I never want to see you again.
>>
>>1240647
>>1240648
>>1240651

Johnny is comatose from blood loss due to multiple gunshot wounds and a car accident. He probably won't be available for some time.
>>
>>1240655
Well fuck. Glad I changed to>>1240652 then
>>
>>1240640
>>No. It's not too late for you. Come with me.
>>
>>1240655
Woops. Well, then..
>No. It's not too late for you. Come with me.
We can't have her running off by herself and spilling the beans.
>>
Writing something that should combine all this.
>>
>>1240640

"No. I'm not going to kill you." You put the gun away into your empty holster. "Akane-chan, it's not too late for you. You know what kind of people Kojiro and the rest of them really are. But I think you're different. You were a good person, once. I think you could be again."

"Ken-san ..."

"Come with me. Help me get Ryuji back."

She looks away. "I-I can't."

You sigh. "I understand. Look. I won't kill you, but I can't let you wander off either. Right now the only advantage I've got is surprise. So for now, you'll have to be my--"

"Prisoner?"

"Guest," you say. "Unless you force me to make it otherwise. I have a person in mind who I think might be able to help, despite Johnny being out of action. That man has a lot of strange friends, but thankfully, he knows at least one responsible person. I think they will help without asking too many foolish questions."

You drive to a pay phone nearby. Akane sits quietly in the backseat. You go to the phone while getting out the small pocketbook you write down phone numbers in, put a quarter in, and dial the number.

After two rings, the phone is picked up. "Hello?" says a woman's voice, groggy from sleep. "Who is this?"

"Alex, it's Ken Yamada," you say. "I'm afraid I have a rather urgent situation. Would you mind terribly if I stopped by with a guest?"

(Continued)
>>
>>1240673

Johnny's friend (girlfriend?) Alex meets you in the parking lot outside her apartment in hastily thrown-on street clothes.

"This is bullshit, you realize," she says, after you've explained the situation. "How do you know it's not another trap?"

"I don't," you say. "But I'm going anyway."

Alex gives you a hard stare. "Can you beat this Matsumoto guy?"

"Yes. Probably. I hope so."

She folds her arms, skeptical.

"I have to do this," you tell her. "Don't try to talk me out of it."

"I won't," she says. She looks at Akane, still in the backseat of the car. "And you just want me to hold onto her? Keep her from spilling the beans until you're done?"

"That's right."

Alex shakes her head. "I should go with you. I can be back down here and ready with my H&K in ten minutes."

>Okay.
>No. I need you to watch Akane.
>No. I have to do this alone.
>>
>>1240680
>No. I need you to watch Akane.
>>
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>>1240680
(forgot pic)
>>
>>1240680
>No. I need you to watch Akane.
>>
>>1240680
>>No. I need you to watch Akane.
>>
>>1240680
>Okay, but only if someone can watch Akane.

Sounds like a job for the murder twins Slashy and Smashy. Also a subtle form of torture.

We should also get the Geek to look into things for us.

Also we gotta remember later to kill that politician. Maybe leave Catherine a ote in case we don't survive.
>>
>>1240680
>>Okay.
>>
>>1240686
>>1240691

If you're changing your vote, that ties us up at 2-2. Next vote takes it.
>>
>>1240701
Actually, I'm going to wrap things up after this anyway, so I'll leave the vote open.

I'll be back tomorrow to finish Retired Yakuza Quest. Thanks for playing!
>>
>>1240707
thanks for running
>>
>>1240680
>Okay.

The guck did we try to do this alone in the first place for? Goddammit. Thought our dude was smarter than letting some needling about us being retired make us stupid.

Like that's why we were smart enough to retire in the first place.
>>
>>1240707
>>1240715

Thanks for running!
>>
>>1240715
Who's going to watch Akane though? The twins didn't know Ken and he didn't know him.
>>
>>1240729
Contact Catherine why not. We should probably stop to get patched up a bit anyways. Do we still have anyways knife in is?
>>
>>1240729
Catherine can't come because a) she ain't a fighter and b) Gotta leave someone for them to negotiate with. They probably want the 20 million more than they want us dead - immediately.
>>
>>1240733
The though of asking Cat to come along has never once crossed my mind.
>>
>>1240731
But I'm just saying that we can't exactly trust the other guys with her. Not because they aren't trustworthy but because I'm convinced Alex is the only one with a mix of skill and level-headedness to be entrusted with this.
>>
>>1240737
Watching a captive? Like we can just go overboard tying her up.

Not sure what else you think will happen.
>>
>>1240740
Tying her up? She might be the weakest fighter in the elite group but I'm sure she has some tricks up her sleeve to get out of some rope.
>>
>>1240741
That's why I said go overboard. Tape mittens, rope, and some handcuffs, then more tape.
>>
>>1240754
I still feel better if it was Alex watching her. With how everything is going I'm confident Ken can finish this last bit himself
>>
>>1240680

>Okay
>>
>>1240735
We do that, and we rift the Yakuza internally even more if ANYTHING close leaks out.

We keep other yakuza out of this. I still say Johny's place is a good store/safe house. The only issue is the choice of guard.
>>
>>1240680
>>No. I need you to watch Akane.
However, if you, say, got someone to watch her, I wouldn't be averse to some help.
>>
>>1241345
>>1240688

Supporting!
>>
>>1241345
I could go with this. Didn't she say a while ago that she had some of her old co-workers hanging out in Heat City? Two new characters for the price of one!
>>
>>1240680
>No, I need you to watch Akane
>>
"Thank you, Alex, but no. I need you to watch Akane. Unless you can think of someone else who can watch her?"

Alex contemplates. "There's the murder twins, who might be sleeping at Johnny's. But they might not be. And I don't trust their attention spans. They'd get bored, and either slack off and let her escape, or start cutting on her. I get the feeling you wouldn't be happy about either of those."

"No, I wouldn't."

"Same problem with Roxie. And that girl doesn't have a phone. Not even sure if she has an address. There's ... maybe ... Nick?"

Both of you have a chuckle about that one. How many different ways could that go wrong?

"Anyone else?" you ask.

She shrugs. "Not anyone who wouldn't just hand me over to the Russians."

"Then I'm sorry, Alex," you say. "With Johnny out of the picture, and my own contacts compromised, you're the only one I can rely on."

"I get that," she says. "I just wish I could do more." She grumbles for another few moments, trying to think of other alternatives, but eventually gives up. "Fine. I'll babysit your little friend here. But I'd better see you AND Ryuji later. Don't do anything stupid. No heroic sacrifices."

"I'm afraid it's too late for that," you say. "But I appreciate the thought."

Alex opens the rear door of the car. "All right, girl. What was your name? Akane? You're coming with me." She hauls Akane out and starts moving her towards the apartment's rear entrance, making it look casual while still keeping one of her wrists locked firmly behind her back. "We're gonna head upstairs, do each other's hair, watch scary movies, have a real girls' night, you know? And if you fuck with me, I'll put a bullet in your kneecap. You feel me, sister?"

"I-I feel you," Akane says. "I won't cause trouble."

Before going back into her building, Alex looks back at you. "I get it, you know? I do stupid things too."

"I know," you say. "Goodbye, Alex."

The door closes on both of them.

(Continued)
>>
>>1242870
Welcome back, boss.
>>
File: dojo outside.jpg (924 KB, 1760x1320)
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>>1242870

Sitting in the Challenger, you survey the outside the dojo through the scope of your Springfield. The dim morning light before sunrise is just starting to illuminate the city enough for you to see. You spot two Yakuza gangsters in suits by the doorway, chatting and smoking cigarettes.

Rolling down the car window, you prop the rifle on the window sill, peer through the scope, and carefully line up the sights on the nearest gangster's head.

Such a waste, a small voice inside you says. He's not even thirty. You probably knew his father, back in Japan. Does he have a wife? A young child, perhaps, of his own? Is it worth it to kill him? Is any of this worth it?

It doesn't matter, says the cold fury in your heart. You'll do what has to be done. Like you always have.

You pull the trigger. The rifle fires, deafening in the confined space of the car. Good thing you keep earbuds in the glove box.

The gangster drops like a puppet with its strings cut, leaving a spray of blood on the wall behind where his head was a moment ago.

The second gangster has barely a moment for his cigarette to drop out of his mouth and look around in panic. You slide back the bolt, ejecting a spent casing, slide it back in, lineup the scope, and fire again. The target clutches at his throat, sinking to his knees as blood wells up between his fingers.

That's two. A good start.

>Raging Flame: Descend on them in wrath and fury.
>Rushing Wind: Elude and evade. Be everywhere and nowhere.
>Standing Mountain: Crush them, relentless, unstoppable.
>>
>>1242904
>>Rushing Wind: Elude and evade. Be everywhere and nowhere.
>>
>>1242904
>>Rushing Wind: Elude and evade. Be everywhere and nowhere.
>>
>>1242904
>Standing Mountain: Crush them, relentless, unstoppable.
>>
>>1242904
>>Rushing Wind: Elude and evade. Be everywhere and nowhere.
>>
>>1242904
>>Rushing Wind: Elude and evade. Be everywhere and nowhere.
>>
>>1242907
>>1242916
>>1242940
>>1242946
>Nobody wants to CRUSH THEM
What are you, a bunch of pussies?
>>
>>1242907
>>1242916
>>1242940
>>1242946

Sorry about the delay there, had a very talkative delivery man. Roll some d10s to be everywhere and nowhere.
>>
Rolled 3 (1d10)

>>1242987
>>
Rolled 3 (1d10)

>>1242987
>>
Rolled 1 (1d10)

>>1242987
>>
I'm sorry
>>
Rolled 9 (1d10)

>>1242987
Because I said I'd roll
>>
File: shrug.jpg (65 KB, 810x780)
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>>1242990
>>1242991
>>1242997
>>
>>1242990
>>1242991
Shit, someone save us!
>>1242997
You have to be fucking kidding me.
>>
>>1243001
I'm even sorrier
>>
>>1243006
That's it, I'm trolling both your quests.
>>
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>>1243011
>>
>>1243004
At least we went for the least risky option, r-right Raven? Pls, I'm an anal virgin. Be gentle.
>>
>>1242904


“If I determine the enemy's disposition of forces while I have no perceptible form, I can concentrate my forces while the enemy is fragmented. The pinnacle of military deployment approaches the formless: if it is formless, then even the deepest spy cannot discern it nor the wise make plans against it.” ― Sun Tzu

At least, that was the plan.

Soundtrack: CloZee - Koto
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6QvMcQ2Eejo

You get out of the car and, still holding your Springfield rifle, start trotting forward and to the right, wincing at the pain in your back. You took the time earlier to pull out the knife and apply a basic bandage, but that doesn't make it any easier to run around.

You don't make it to the brush surrounding the dojo in time before a third Yakuza comes out the front door to check on his comrades. He shouts to his friends inside, waving for them to come out, pointing in your direction.

You raise your rifle and fire. Your eyes, at least, still work just fine. The bullet takes the gangster in the side of the head, and he topples to the ground. But it's too late. Three more gangsters come running out the front door, holding Uzis. They spot you and fire immediately, spraying the submachine guns from the hip. Bullets tear off branches and leaves, thwack into tree trunks, skip off the ground around you. You just barely make it to cover at the far right corner of the building.

So much for stealth, you think, sliding the bolt and chambering another round. Let's try "elude and evade".

The three uzi-wielding Yakuza come dashing around the corner. You step out and hip-fire the rifle, hitting the middle one in the chest. He's knocked down and lies groaning on the ground with a growing patch of blood on his white shirt. The other two take cover, one behind the corner he just left, the other behind a wide tree.

You take the opportunity for a tactical reposition. Sliding open a nearby door, you step inside the dojo hallway. Walls of shoji, paper with wooden frames. Long wooden planks for floors. You hear shouting voices and running footsteps coming from one direction, and take the opportunity to slide open another door and step into that room.

An empty room. A dead end. You curse the fates.

You go back outside only to find yourself pincered in. The two yakuza from outside have followed you. Still outside, they raise their Uzis and start to fire. You have no choice but to run down the hallway in the direction of the enemy footsteps. Ahead of you is a T-intersection. Maybe you can find another route in time --

-- you reach the corner at the same time as five Yakuza, crowding the left hallway. Each is carrying a sheathed katana. At the sight of you, the lead gangster shouts a challenge and unsheathes his blade. "Fight me, old man!" he shouts, throwing the wooden sheath to the ground and raising his steel.

You shoot him in the face with the rifle.

(Continued)
>>
>>1243100

The two behind him are knocked down by his body, but the two rearmost leap over their comrades, throw away their sheaths and rush at you with their katanas. You try to dodge, but it's no good. You have to parry with your rifle. It blocks the blow, but at the expense of the rifle being cleaved three-quarters of the way through. You give it a good shove, knocking the gangster over, then leave the now-useless piece of wood and metal behind and hastily retreat down the third corridor.

You had that rifle for over thirty years, you think. Shame--

The shoji beside you rips apart as a massive form smashes through. You have just enough time to glimpse the Oni mask before Matsumoto's bulk slams into you like a train.

You crash through the shoji opposite, your head slams on the ground, and everything goes black--

(Continued)
>>
>>1242990
>>1242991
>>1242997

Good thing we brought back-up, so some terrible rolls won't result in us dying in vain attempting to rescue Ryuji!

Oh.

Wait.

Nope, we're fucked.

GJ guys.
>>
>>1243106
How about my soul in exchange for Ken getting a way out of this?
>>
>>1243106

You struggle back through the haze of agony to waking. Only a couple of seconds have passed, you realize. The giant Matsumoto stands over you, iron-studded kanabo held over his shoulder. His breath wheezes through his mask.

"Fool," he growls. "You should have given Masamune the money. Now both you and your nephew will die." He lowers his club, strikes it into his other palm. "Which of your strategems will save you now?"


>You are a coward. Fight me with honor.
>Ryuji has nothing to do with this. Take me hostage, kill me if you must, but let him go.
>This one. (Reveal grenade)
>>
>>1243118
Hey, maybe Alex can provide covering . . . . wait nope.

Maybe she can drag us out . . . . wait nope.

Why did you all even give a fuck if that Akane chick escaped eventually.
>>
>>1243134
>>This one. (Reveal grenade)
>>
>>1243134
>This one. (Reveal grenade)

Ken is Dead man. Might as well make it worth it.
>>
>>1243111
>Implying it won't kill us both
>Implying Akane escaping won't fuck us over
>>
>>1243134
>>This one. (Reveal grenade)
>>
>>1243111
>reveal grenade
>>
>>1243134
>This one. (Reveal grenade)
>>
>>1243134
>Ryuji has nothing to do with this. Take me hostage, kill me if you must, but let him go.
Damn it, Ken, please. You're my favourite character.
>>
>>1243154
Revealing the grenade doesn't automatically kill us ya know. It just threatens both of us dying.
>>
>>1243134

"This one," you say, revealing the grenade you were holding onto for just such an occasion.

Matsumoto takes a step back. "Y-you're bluffing. We'd both die."

"Maybe so," you say. "But with you out of the picture, I bet Ryuji could fight his way out. I'm willing to risk it."

You pull the pin.

>Roll it forward. (You both might survive.)
>Hold onto it, grab Matsumoto. (You both die.)
>>
>>1243162
>Roll it forward. (You both might survive.)
>>
>>1243162
>>Hold onto it, grab Matsumoto. (You both die.)
>>
>>1243162
>Roll it forward
>>
>>1243162
>>Roll it forward. (You both might survive.)
FFFFFFFFFFF
>>
>>1243162
FFFFFUUUUUUUUUUCKINGHELL it's down to the wire.
>Roll it forward. (You both might survive.)
Anything to see Ken live. Literally anything. I give no shits.
>>
>>1243162
>roll it forward
Remember, we still have the wakizashi. And a huge guy like Matsumoto looks like a good cover vs explosion.
>>
>>1243168
>>1243172
>>1243173
>>1243175
>>1243182

Roll it forward. First three d10 rolls, as usual. Good luck, anons.
>>
Rolled 6 (1d10)

>>1243190
>>
Rolled 5 (1d10)

>>1243190
If there's time to roll well it is now
>>
Rolled 9 (1d10)

>>1243190
PLS DON'T DIE
>>
Rolled 5 (1d10)

>>1243190
HEED MY ROLLS
>>
>>1243195
>>
>>1243191
>>1243193
>>1243195

6-5-9 looks decent, fellas. Writing now.
>>
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>>1243195
You did good, anon.
>>
>>1243162

You roll the frag grenade forward, a good old-fashioned pineapple like you used in the war.

For a moment, the strangest memory flashes into your mind. It was a time that you took Ryuji out on a fishing trip, back when you still lived in Japan. It was just the two of you. And you remember, as you piloted the boat out onto the open seas, the wind rushing through your hair and jacket, you looked down at Ryuji, normally such a serious boy with a grave expression. And he looked back up at you with the widest smile you'd ever seen on him.

If you die, it will have been worth it. For Ryuji.

The grenade goes off. Metal fragments burst outward in a lethal spray.

You twist away, trying to shield yourself. The shrapnel slams into your back and shoulder, an intense, slicing pain, like a hellish grater scraping against you. Flesh and muscles shredded, you slump to the ground.

Your ears are ringing, your back is soaked with your own blood, and your right arm doesn't work at all -- you wonder if any of the muscles in your shoulder even still exist -- but you're alive.
Somehow you fight past the pain, get your left arm under you, and push yourself up. You grab the wakizashi from the ground as you do so.

You look down at the blasted form of Matsumoto. Half of his face his gone, a bloody, shredded mess full of shrapnel fragments. The mask couldn't protect him, in the end.
You stagger forward, past the blasted form of Matsumoto --

-- who sits up.

Shocked, you step backwards. A sudden attack of dizziness, and you sink to one knee. Matsumoto crawls forward, leaking blood from the sliced-up half of his mask. He reaches out a massive hand and grabs you by the throat, almost crushing your windpipe in one squeeze. You choke and struggle, desperately seeking air.

"I won't," he growls, savagely, his voice choked with blood. He pushes forward. "I won't -- lose -- to --"

You stab the wakizashi into his throat. A spring of blood flows out.

"Glkk," he says. The hand around your throat starts to loosen, then tightens again. Matsumoto's rage gives him strength even as his life ebbs. "Hrrkk -- won't -- lose -- kkk --"

Finally his grip weakens enough for you to pull his hand away. You let go, and his arm flops to the ground, lifeless.

Dead.

(Continued)
>>
>>1243243
YEAH NOT DEAD
>>
>>1243243
Intense as fuck. Fucking excellent writing, Raven.
>>
>>1243243

Hesitantly, the surviving Yakuza gangsters approach. They whisper to each other in awe as they look at the corpse of the man in the Oni mask.

"Nice work, old man," one of them says. "Never thought someone like you could take down the oni. Have to hand it to you." The group raises their uzis at you. "Any last words? A final poem?"

Staring down the gun barrels, you sigh and drop the wakizashi from nerveless fingers. You have nothing left. You can only hope that Ryuji wakes and sees his opportunity before Kojiro sends reinforcements.

You thought that maybe, one day, facing down your own death, you'd compose the kind of poem fit for a warrior. But you can't think of anything. A grim laugh escapes you. You never expected to live this long in the first place, after all.

"Please treat Ryuji kindly," you say, in the end. "That is all."

You did all you could. You gave everything.
Maybe you should've done things differently. Gathered the group. Waited until Johnny was awake. Come in with all your allies, in a grand rescue mission, explosions everywhere, guns blazing--

No. This was for the best. One man acting alone, with the element of surprise, had a chance. You took that chance. And you lost. That's all.

You can only hope that the others will find Ryuji without you, or somehow come up with the twenty million dollars.

It's up to them now.

You close your eyes.

(Continued)
>>
>>1243279

A sudden cry of pain. Automatic gunfire comes from the uzis, but nothing hits you. You hear slicing and chopping sounds, shouts of anger, screams of pain.

The noise stops.

You open your eyes.

Your nephew stands there over the corpses, clutching a bloody katana, breathing heavily.

"Ryuji," you manage to gasp. "I ... I found ..."

Your knees give out from under you. The ground rushes up to meet you, and the world falls away into darkness.
>>
>>1243284

The dim flame of your spirit flickers back into waking.

You're being helped along by someone -- dragged, really -- with your arm over their shoulders. Your hazy vision sees the trees outside the dojo, the early morning sky beyond them. You look to the side to see Ryuji trying to carry you, struggling under the weight.

"I'm awake again, nephew. You can let me walk -- oops --" You try to take your own weight, but your knees buckle immediately and you almost fall.

"I've got you, uncle," he says. "It is all right."

"Your eye, Ryuji," you say, realizing the extend of his wounds. "What happened to your--"

"It is nothing," he says. "I am alive. We are both alive. That is what matters." The two of you reach the Challenger. "Please give me your keys, uncle. I will drive us to Johnny's friend, the doctor."

"My nephew," you mumble. "Such a good boy. Not like your father at all ..."

You collapse into the passenger seat. Ryuji starts the engine, turns the wheel, and slowly takes the car out into the street.

In the sky, the early morning sun is rising above the horizon.

Soundtrack: Taeko Ohnuki - 4:00 AM
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YixAD9GIAuY
>>
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>>1243302

That's all for this chapter of Retired Yakuza Quest, anons. Thanks for playing.

In the next thread, we'll be returning to your regularly scheduled Thug Quest with Johnny the Thug, who will be glad to see his two friends alive, if not especially well, after their battles.

Thanks for playing!
>>
>>1243305
Thanks for running boss.
>>
>>1243305
Thanks as always for running. How fucked is Ryuji's eye and how fucked is Johnny's leg again?
>>
>>1243305
That was fucking awesome, man. Thank you for running.
>>
>>1243305
Damn, Boss. That was intense.

See you around next time.
>>
>>1243308
I think the answer is "pretty fucked".

I say we steal some experimental bio-medical stuff to let us deal with it. There's gotta be a superior version of Z right?
>>
>>1243305
Thanks for running! What would have changed if we brought Alex?
>>
>>1243328
Following this question, what if we'd rolled better?
>>
>>1243308

Ryuji's eye is gone, I'm afraid. A small price to pay for his life.

Johnny aggravated his leg but with Doc Inch's help it should still heal straight -- eventually.

>>1243328

Akane would have been loose, which may have meant that the guards at the dojo would have been on high alert, with reinforcements on the way. On the other hand, maybe she liked you enough not to tell them?

The most efficient way of doing things in the short term, of course, would have been to kill Akane and take Alex with you but that may have had consequences down the road.

>>1243334

You might not have been body-slammed by a giant man in an oni mask.
>>
So anyone think Edna might be able to Snag us an Mg 42? One of the better machine guns which is to say, the fastest firing




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