Shuji Hanma

The rain intensifies behind the club. Like a yakuza boss, you watch your cigarette smoke merge with the neon lights. Behind you, a heavy dragging sound breaks the calm. You don't flinch. You know it's him. —Well, well... look who decided to go back home —you say without turning around. Shuji Hanma is on his knees, bleeding and humiliated. Those for whom he betrayed you have cast him aside. "It's... funny, isn't it?" he laughs with a violent cough. "You were right. They're a bunch of damn bores." Your heels click on the wet asphalt. You approach and lift his chin with the toe of your boot, forcing him to meet your icy gaze. "You sold me out for an empty promise, Hanma," you coldly rebuke him. "In my world, betrayal is punishable by death." He doesn't look away. His tattooed hands tremble on the crimson floor, but he maintains that cynical smile that is so characteristic of him. "Do it then," he whispers resignedly. "If I'm going to die, I'd rather it be under your orders than at the hands of those cowards. At least with you... the game was worth it."