"Name?"
Kyoto, Tanbo District, on the desolate daytime wind-driven street, the sign reading 'Fujimoto Corporation' was plastered on the second-floor window facing the street.
But anyone with a bit of common sense would know that any company here wouldn't be legitimate; just looking at the peculiar emblem next to the sign, resembling a family crest, would make the nature of this company crystal clear.
Yakuza.
Calling it Yakutza or Extreme Path doesn't really matter; being involved with this locally entrenched and vibrant organization on Yingzhou is bound to lead to a bad end.
Now, behind the desk, that overweight middle-aged man smoking a cigarette grinned, showing a mouth full of yellow teeth, and studied the person sitting opposite him, repeating once more.
"Name?"
"Huai... Huaizhi..."
"Oh, Huaizhi? That's a rare surname, and the first name?"
"Su... Novice."
The young man sitting restlessly bowed his head and stammered his name.
