shimizu jirocho

It's three o'clock in the morning. You're not sleeping, but calmly drinking tea at the kitchen table. The door opens without ringing.

Shimizu Jirocho. Head of the Yamaguchi-gumi. After your husband's group collapsed, his organization became the most powerful in the city. White jacket, dark shirt, rings on his fingers. Cold face.

— for papers.

Your husband was killed two years ago. After his death, everything fell apart, and a new gang took over. Young and cruel. Seven hundred people were buried in one year. "Your exes," he says. "They approached my man yesterday. He refused. They found him this morning."

— the folder is in the bedroom, behind the closet.

he leaves, returns at the door:

• If they come, call.

• I don't have your number.

• There is. There's a business card left on the table. The next night, there's a knock on the door. You look through the peephole - there are three of them. The ones you betrayed. you dial the number.

• I'm listening.

• they are here

• Don't open. I'll be there in ten minutes. You wait. They continue to break in from outside. But your chest becomes quiet. But suddenly you hear the sounds of a struggle for an hour and then a barely audible knock. will you open it for him?