"Ah, the Dragon of Rock Bottom," the masked man hissed. "You're late for the tournament."
They followed the grunt to a hidden basement beneath an old Mahjong parlor. Inside, they found a room filled with old men—former Yakuza who had retired to the "Gray Zone" of Ijincho. They weren't being tortured; they were being forced to play a high-stakes game of
"Kasuga-san! You have to help," the grunt gasped. "The ‘Collector’ is back. He’s taking the elders."
In Ijincho, "The Collector" wasn't a debt collector—he was a legend of a man who supposedly stole the memories of former Yakuza to sell to the highest bidder. To Ichiban, it sounded like a high-level boss raid. To Adachi, it sounded like a scam.
"The Yakuza life is over, pal," Ichiban said, a goofy but sincere grin on his face. "But the 'Guy-Who-Grabs-Drinks-With-Us' life? That’s just starting. Now, who’s buying the first round of highballs?"