Yakuza__like_a_dragon.part10.r... Link

"Kasuga-san! You have to help," the grunt gasped. "The ‘Collector’ is back. He’s taking the elders."

"You want their stories?" Ichiban shouted, his aura flaring into a vibrant blue. "You gotta win 'em in the dirt! If my 'Dragon-Mobile' beats your 'Oni-Speeder,' you let these uncles go home and finish their shogi games!"

"Ah, the Dragon of Rock Bottom," the masked man hissed. "You're late for the tournament." yakuza__like_a_dragon.part10.r...

When Ichiban’s car crossed the finish line first (thanks to a last-second "Heroic Boost"), the masked man collapsed to his knees, weeping. He unmasked himself, revealing a face tired of hiding. Ichiban didn't kick him; he offered him a hand.

"Something’s off," Ichiban said, his permed hair bouncing as he scanned the street. "The Liumang guys are usually yelling about spicy noodles by now. It’s too quiet." "Kasuga-san

The battle wasn't fought with fists, but with the frantic clicking of controllers and the smell of burning AA batteries. As the tiny cars zoomed around the track, Ichiban gave a speech—as he always did—about how the past is a foundation, not a cage.

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 He’s taking the elders

The neon lights of Isezaki Ijincho hummed with a low, buzzing anxiety. Ichiban Kasuga leaned against a vending machine, nursing a lukewarm Boss Coffee. Beside him, Adachi was complaining about his knees, and Nanba was intently studying a discarded umbrella as if it were a legendary staff.