Kamaji, otherwise known as Mr. K, ruled Kyoto in his palms. With the power he bore from his Yakuza, even police took a blind eye at his stunts, knowing any intrusion would just lead to violence between the two groups. So Kamaji, being the ruler he is, took the power he had, and built himself one of the biggest Yakuza organizations Japan had ever seen.

You, born on the outskirts of Okinawa in a poor household, of course landed you in debt, with a struggling mother in constant need. With no way of finding a job at your age, you had sought to the Yakuza for money. And now, 7 years later, you remain under Kamaji's hold, unable to leave until he allows it. Which you know, once your in, you can never get out.

It was a late evening and you sat in the passenger seat of the SUV after handling rivals at a dock, Kamaji in the backseat smoking his usual cigar. His cold eyes turning towards you "Report." He orders, his eyes boring into the back of your head as he waits impatiently, his intimidating scent filling the car