Post by Jubei on May 22, 2020 22:53:25 GMT -5
Microsoft Teams Meeting
A dozen faces from San Fran, Chicago, New York, Tokyo and Yokohama feature members of the newly formed Masuda Allied Technologies. Among them are Shoda and a prominent figure in Tokyo, Nakashima Michi in her best power suit. Their chairman, however, has chosen to let Shoda speak in his place from their Yokohama headquarters.
Shoda: I have more news from our first bridges in Singapore, and let me say how well this new team works on real estate. Everyone has worked countless hours to make the civic project there a reality. So much that our chairman wishes to extend his fondest respect to everyone involved.
Michi: We’re blessed, Shoda-kun… Oh, and I see your hand has gotten better.
Shoda: It’s only a digit, Michi-san. Nothing to concern before the board—
Michi: The last thing we need is negative light. No more irizumi—cover it up. As for the disgusting sight of yubitsume, Shoda-kun, I suggest you find a way of concealing it from public eye. Being “allied technologies” implies mutually exclusive rights between market spheres. It also means transparency between branches. We cannot run an international syndicate from a bed of secrets.
Shoda moves out of frame with Jubei appearing dressed in silk pajamas. The uncommon sight has board members looking upon him in a new way. Exhaustion colors Masuda’s face graying purples.
Jubei: If we’re rehashing old grudges, I propose that we table all discussion of Shoda Enterprises and their part into the success of our “allied” venture until next week.
San Fran: Outside of your Silicon Valley contacts, Jubei-sama, we’re happy to report that investments into streaming platforms position us to be dominant shareholders.
Jubei: What’s their outlook?
San Fran: We in the Golden State feel that the best course is to ransom half the stock value to someone unknowing in the business on the allure of blue chip success.
Jubei: Make the want it… anyone else?
Michi: Jubei-sama, I want to take that off the table.
Jubei: Not recognized. Is there other business? I haven’t slept since my flight back.
There’s silence on the other side.
Jubei: Good, then we’re adjourned.
Every screen goes black except for that of Lady Nakashima.
Michi: There are no pretenses where I am supporting Shoda Enterprises or the work they do for you, Chairman. But I ask you to reconsider their role in future development because a team divided cannot stand, and that’s never good for business.
She logs off before he can retort. All of that energy transfers from her into Jubei, who in turn, lobs all of that spiteful force at a dumbfound Shoda.
Jubei: Your place on the board has come to an end. However, Shoda Enterprises have a sterling future in our bottom line. I need your people to continue scouting for real estate options in the weak wills of Sinapore’s underbelly. Somewhere, I know there has to be something bigger and better than this.
Shoda takes that on a bow, yet something else weighs his head to the floor.
Shoda: Masuda-sama, I have something to ask you.
Jubei: What?
Shoda: I know you’re still jetlagged, but there’s something’s not right about you.
Jubei: I lost that re-debut. No one can see it, but they could feel it. My power draining by the minute over this meeting app. Teams… as if she knows how to stab me in the heart when I cannot fight back!
Shoda: What do you mean?
Shoda slowly rises from his lowered place.
Jubei: Nakashima has the ability to read people better than anyone on the board. She lacks all but an overwhelming compassion for her workforce. A great vision for leadership outside of the mountain’s peak. Not the mark of a chairman. It’s killing her on the inside, Shoda.
Shoda: “Chairperson” technically.
Jubei: Yes, but I’m the Chairman of this corporation. She dreams of usurping me. To wreck what I’ve built over these last seven months. I took the right steps. Made moves at calculated points between that fateful Tokyo show and now in APW. What more do they want from me?
Shoda inches towards the door until Jubei spins around in his chair.
Jubei: We can’t walk away from this blatant power grab. If only there was a way to expose her to the rest of the board—then they’d have to reconsider her position.
Shoda: Hasn’t her family been a developer across the South China Sea since the Big War?
Jubei: Longer than that I’m afraid. Why did her eldest brother die early of a kidney disorder, burying the pushover for his conniving sister? Such is my luck, Shoda. Fates conspiring against me in ways only the Gods can imagine with their perverse nature.
Shoda: Do you believe what she said about teamwork?
Jubei: Yes, regrettably.
Shoda: How did the interview go?
Open to the set of the long hiatus of APW’s premiere talk show outside of the squared circle, Talk Metal, alongside its veteran host, Dani Apple Gate. Across her sits Masuda Jubei in an entirely black suit. The set spared no expense with “Talk Metal” hanging above them in the form of steel and neon-lit letters.
Dani: We’re back! … How I’ve missed being here for the Alpha faithful. Your viewership makes this promotion one of the best in the world. In that same vein, we have since seen the return of Masuda Jubei. A man despised by our fan base. His “Masuda Corporation” tormented the roster with an army. They even tried to dominate our media airwaves by impressing my voice for their cause. And while I’m not thrilled nor interested in engaging the man across from me; professionally, I’ve invited him to share his otherworldly story. First off, would you please recap your loss to Steven Osbourne?
Jubei: No.
Dani: Refusing to acknowledge the press isn’t the best way to rejoin the APW family, Masuda. Because it hasn’t stopped you from being a vocal critic of the sport and everything inside our ring. Shall we discuss the match or move on? It’s your choice, ultimately, but I always suggest the high road.
Masuda’s hands clench his knees until his knuckles turn white.
Jubei: As it stands, Ms. Applegate, no one at home saw the end of that match. Which infuriates everyone involved. As for its finish… I decline to acknowledge this company’s failure to represent my brand on television. It’s sickening that even after high profile hires and PPV’s the APW cannot get out of its own way. Yet here I stand in another flood of its own doing. Where are you standing?
Dani: I don’t think that’s important. We’re here to talk about why you came back to Alpha Pro-Wrestling. No more tap dancing. Please, Jubei, give us a straight answer.
Jubei: On this microphone?
Dani: Yes, tell us what’s going on in your career. What are your goals? Anything like that.
He adjusts the French cuffs so that they roll up his wrists and over his suit jacket.
"I expected a little more gratitude from these fans. Six months ago, Alpha was neither professional nor a sport worthy of wrestling. I spent those early months fending off animals posing as athletes. Braxton Locus. Nyeo Son. Even my own people, though tamed, foamed at their mouths with bloodlust. Yet I rose above it all. Then I took our brand across the ocean and sold a packed house in Japan—on my birthday. Three days later, I displayed our World Title before a small gathering at Corey Black’s hardcore special.
XIII proved to be my last days in the ring for over half a calendar year. Due to unscrupulous people in my old business circle, everyone in APW became convinced that I had perished fighting Jayson Price. My disappearance hurt our numbers at first. Impressions, however, last a lifetime. Talented wrestlers from rival companies thought my setback spoke for the spirit of APW. They invaded from all corners of the globe, only to find a central heart of resistance. Stalwarts like Smith Jones, even that grease ball Steven Osbourne, helped duct tape the company together.
History unfurls from there. But you cannot look past my sacrifice to make APW a known entity among larger and louder voices. I nearly died for a banner that will never support me. Never acknowledge everything to cure its wounds. That’s my career, Ms. Applegate, but I don’t expect the fans to listen or even care. So be it. If they won’t grovel, then I’ll make them bow again."
She grips her microphone a little tighter.
Dani: I think that’s all we have time for today—what are you doing?
Masuda approaches the camera with a straightening crick of his neck.
”It’s not easy being a maverick in a sport of redundant acts. People trying to rise the ranks and climb over the bodies this sport consumes every year. I’m not going to predict a calm season for Alpha Pro-Wrestling. Everyone at home stay right there. Open your eyes and your ears. This is the last calm before I ruin everything you love about APW.
People like Jason Zurra believe they can book me as a means of control. They’re wrong. I accept your six-man tag—sans one—just remember that when everything blows back in your faces.
Who are these jokers banded together across from me? The same sort mafia see in biker gangs, not that I have any knowledge of organized crime. Structure tells us everything we need to know about the Bloodline. Retention seems high for a power vacuum, especially when leadership uses members like the Russian Army against MG44 firepower. A blaze extinguished. A soul extracted. A mouth sewn shut.
I find a successful group has a central pull. Like a star guiding its solar system, organizations require leadership. Something Jason Ryan has continued to learn by prat falling every week on national television. Now Dani, I know you’ve had incursions with this yapping snot, but he’s just barking loud enough so that everyone takes him seriously. He called McMorris from his own pile of radioactive waste—no one engages that husk of a lifeform with a good story. They all end like a Russian winter: Cold, heartless with survivors living off roasted boot leather. Ryan continues to morph his message because it has never stuck to anyone but those with the mental capacity of flypaper. He’s not intimidating because there’s no consistency beyond random acts of failure. Such a pity. I know prestige because I am its definition. I am success, sir, maybe you can take a few pointers from the mat.”
Dani signs “five minutes” and seems to enjoy this unexpected gem of digital content.
”Sorry boys, looks like I need to rap this up—never! We finish when I want to finish. Keep rolling, and don’t forget to adjust my light setting. I don’t need to look like a ghost.
I cannot disassemble an organization without sundering support pillars. The first has to be Soulreaver, right? The seven-foot, near silent horsepower of the Bloodline whose one churning gear needs someone else to think and speak on his behalf. These sort of draught horses function well with medial tasks like ‘smash him’ or ‘carry this match while the rest recover’. I know what’s rattling in your heart, big man. I’m not referring to the uncommon stress you put on your body every day by existing. No… a life leashed by the bidding of otherworldly dreams. Ryan keeps you in a kennel until it’s time for ‘crushing’ because why should he be the one to absorb blows. You can take them, right? That’s not blurring his illusions, is it? I’d hate to be a voice of reason.”
Dani motions for him to get to the end behind wide, sulking eyes.
”Aaron Blaze might be the most concerning person in this match. Another firecracker under the age of twenty-five. Clueless but dangerous. They impress by giving everything, whether that means breaking vertebrae or turning red from his own blood. Lost boys ignore winning or records. They get lost in the shuffle from the ring to a backstage triage. Maladaptive daydreams last for a lifetime, Aaron, remembering the show but none of its cranial trauma. You’d rather go headfirst through a totem pole of light tubes than listen to an elder trying to save your budding career. I know it’s your life to throw away so recklessly… but somewhere, somehow, we can still save your humanity. Monday will present a door. You can enter it beside a giant hack and your jester of a king. Or, you can evolve.
Your group has no dreams. You can’t take over this place without a plan. First, you need to win matches—I hope you realize that much. Next, you have to find a target to topple. You can do more damage to this company through our Hardcore Title than World Champion speeches. Aim for something this group can string together because I’ve watched your giant reduced to silly putty too many times for it be a coincidence. How many people have sewn Ryan’s mouth shut to date? It takes fingers and toes to count them all. Where does that leave your group? It’s simple: the Bloodline never passed their first stage of development. Jason drafted a convoluted mission statement he nor any member could adhere to, drowning Blaze and Soulreaver at sea.
How do I know? I’m The Master. Before my loss to Jayson Price in Tokyo, this place was a coaster for my drinks. Even this week’s special hero, Smith Jones, bowed to the might of Masuda. I don’t make my nicknames nor take them lightly. People called me that out of respect—something your fearless leader will never earn from APW’s fans. They’re fickle, stupid dogs. If you want to see what happens when a true leader takes the helm… watch how I conduct the team across from your bad company. I don’t know L Verez, and only vaguely saw Damian Kaine during his stint in the front office. They’re competent enough to get the job done… something I doubt your people will be able say at the bell’s toll. Listen as it leads us to Kingdom Come, when the King in absentia retakes his throne... osama bansai.”
Dani motions a “cut” gesture to the camera operator. She then meets Masuda in his vengeful state.
Dani: Where was that hiding, under your lizard skin?
Jubei: This is why you don’t belong among these animals. You have a gift, Dani, yet you waste it on the mindless drones lured to our wrestling hive.
Dani: So what do you suggest? More attitude? Less professionalism? I value my career behind the camera as you do in the ring, Jubei. If this is another of your games—I’m not playing it.
Jubei: Consider it professional courtesy. I won’t be so forgiving next time.
Jubei looks into his subordinate’s eyes with renewed fury.
Jubei: My interview airs tonight. I can’t force you to watch it, Shoda, but I think you can learn from it too. I know you modeled Shoda enterprises off my company’s success. You have to make it over your first big hump. You might know its name, dislikes and effect on the company as a whole.
Shoda: I think so, Masuda-sama.
Jubei: Then get it done before my flight leaves for America. I need to be sure it’s been handled properly.
Shoda bows, leaving his leader to a morning view of Yokohama. It bellows back in surprise with the random wails of emergency sirens. Jubei walks and leans on its thick glass eyeing the same streets that once sought to end his young life. Now, if desired, flipped tables offer a tower to spit upon them all. He instead finds soothing energy from all the imperfect crags night hides so well.
A dozen faces from San Fran, Chicago, New York, Tokyo and Yokohama feature members of the newly formed Masuda Allied Technologies. Among them are Shoda and a prominent figure in Tokyo, Nakashima Michi in her best power suit. Their chairman, however, has chosen to let Shoda speak in his place from their Yokohama headquarters.
Shoda: I have more news from our first bridges in Singapore, and let me say how well this new team works on real estate. Everyone has worked countless hours to make the civic project there a reality. So much that our chairman wishes to extend his fondest respect to everyone involved.
Michi: We’re blessed, Shoda-kun… Oh, and I see your hand has gotten better.
Shoda: It’s only a digit, Michi-san. Nothing to concern before the board—
Michi: The last thing we need is negative light. No more irizumi—cover it up. As for the disgusting sight of yubitsume, Shoda-kun, I suggest you find a way of concealing it from public eye. Being “allied technologies” implies mutually exclusive rights between market spheres. It also means transparency between branches. We cannot run an international syndicate from a bed of secrets.
Shoda moves out of frame with Jubei appearing dressed in silk pajamas. The uncommon sight has board members looking upon him in a new way. Exhaustion colors Masuda’s face graying purples.
Jubei: If we’re rehashing old grudges, I propose that we table all discussion of Shoda Enterprises and their part into the success of our “allied” venture until next week.
San Fran: Outside of your Silicon Valley contacts, Jubei-sama, we’re happy to report that investments into streaming platforms position us to be dominant shareholders.
Jubei: What’s their outlook?
San Fran: We in the Golden State feel that the best course is to ransom half the stock value to someone unknowing in the business on the allure of blue chip success.
Jubei: Make the want it… anyone else?
Michi: Jubei-sama, I want to take that off the table.
Jubei: Not recognized. Is there other business? I haven’t slept since my flight back.
There’s silence on the other side.
Jubei: Good, then we’re adjourned.
Every screen goes black except for that of Lady Nakashima.
Michi: There are no pretenses where I am supporting Shoda Enterprises or the work they do for you, Chairman. But I ask you to reconsider their role in future development because a team divided cannot stand, and that’s never good for business.
She logs off before he can retort. All of that energy transfers from her into Jubei, who in turn, lobs all of that spiteful force at a dumbfound Shoda.
Jubei: Your place on the board has come to an end. However, Shoda Enterprises have a sterling future in our bottom line. I need your people to continue scouting for real estate options in the weak wills of Sinapore’s underbelly. Somewhere, I know there has to be something bigger and better than this.
Shoda takes that on a bow, yet something else weighs his head to the floor.
Shoda: Masuda-sama, I have something to ask you.
Jubei: What?
Shoda: I know you’re still jetlagged, but there’s something’s not right about you.
Jubei: I lost that re-debut. No one can see it, but they could feel it. My power draining by the minute over this meeting app. Teams… as if she knows how to stab me in the heart when I cannot fight back!
Shoda: What do you mean?
Shoda slowly rises from his lowered place.
Jubei: Nakashima has the ability to read people better than anyone on the board. She lacks all but an overwhelming compassion for her workforce. A great vision for leadership outside of the mountain’s peak. Not the mark of a chairman. It’s killing her on the inside, Shoda.
Shoda: “Chairperson” technically.
Jubei: Yes, but I’m the Chairman of this corporation. She dreams of usurping me. To wreck what I’ve built over these last seven months. I took the right steps. Made moves at calculated points between that fateful Tokyo show and now in APW. What more do they want from me?
Shoda inches towards the door until Jubei spins around in his chair.
Jubei: We can’t walk away from this blatant power grab. If only there was a way to expose her to the rest of the board—then they’d have to reconsider her position.
Shoda: Hasn’t her family been a developer across the South China Sea since the Big War?
Jubei: Longer than that I’m afraid. Why did her eldest brother die early of a kidney disorder, burying the pushover for his conniving sister? Such is my luck, Shoda. Fates conspiring against me in ways only the Gods can imagine with their perverse nature.
Shoda: Do you believe what she said about teamwork?
Jubei: Yes, regrettably.
Shoda: How did the interview go?
Open to the set of the long hiatus of APW’s premiere talk show outside of the squared circle, Talk Metal, alongside its veteran host, Dani Apple Gate. Across her sits Masuda Jubei in an entirely black suit. The set spared no expense with “Talk Metal” hanging above them in the form of steel and neon-lit letters.
Dani: We’re back! … How I’ve missed being here for the Alpha faithful. Your viewership makes this promotion one of the best in the world. In that same vein, we have since seen the return of Masuda Jubei. A man despised by our fan base. His “Masuda Corporation” tormented the roster with an army. They even tried to dominate our media airwaves by impressing my voice for their cause. And while I’m not thrilled nor interested in engaging the man across from me; professionally, I’ve invited him to share his otherworldly story. First off, would you please recap your loss to Steven Osbourne?
Jubei: No.
Dani: Refusing to acknowledge the press isn’t the best way to rejoin the APW family, Masuda. Because it hasn’t stopped you from being a vocal critic of the sport and everything inside our ring. Shall we discuss the match or move on? It’s your choice, ultimately, but I always suggest the high road.
Masuda’s hands clench his knees until his knuckles turn white.
Jubei: As it stands, Ms. Applegate, no one at home saw the end of that match. Which infuriates everyone involved. As for its finish… I decline to acknowledge this company’s failure to represent my brand on television. It’s sickening that even after high profile hires and PPV’s the APW cannot get out of its own way. Yet here I stand in another flood of its own doing. Where are you standing?
Dani: I don’t think that’s important. We’re here to talk about why you came back to Alpha Pro-Wrestling. No more tap dancing. Please, Jubei, give us a straight answer.
Jubei: On this microphone?
Dani: Yes, tell us what’s going on in your career. What are your goals? Anything like that.
He adjusts the French cuffs so that they roll up his wrists and over his suit jacket.
"I expected a little more gratitude from these fans. Six months ago, Alpha was neither professional nor a sport worthy of wrestling. I spent those early months fending off animals posing as athletes. Braxton Locus. Nyeo Son. Even my own people, though tamed, foamed at their mouths with bloodlust. Yet I rose above it all. Then I took our brand across the ocean and sold a packed house in Japan—on my birthday. Three days later, I displayed our World Title before a small gathering at Corey Black’s hardcore special.
XIII proved to be my last days in the ring for over half a calendar year. Due to unscrupulous people in my old business circle, everyone in APW became convinced that I had perished fighting Jayson Price. My disappearance hurt our numbers at first. Impressions, however, last a lifetime. Talented wrestlers from rival companies thought my setback spoke for the spirit of APW. They invaded from all corners of the globe, only to find a central heart of resistance. Stalwarts like Smith Jones, even that grease ball Steven Osbourne, helped duct tape the company together.
History unfurls from there. But you cannot look past my sacrifice to make APW a known entity among larger and louder voices. I nearly died for a banner that will never support me. Never acknowledge everything to cure its wounds. That’s my career, Ms. Applegate, but I don’t expect the fans to listen or even care. So be it. If they won’t grovel, then I’ll make them bow again."
She grips her microphone a little tighter.
Dani: I think that’s all we have time for today—what are you doing?
Masuda approaches the camera with a straightening crick of his neck.
”It’s not easy being a maverick in a sport of redundant acts. People trying to rise the ranks and climb over the bodies this sport consumes every year. I’m not going to predict a calm season for Alpha Pro-Wrestling. Everyone at home stay right there. Open your eyes and your ears. This is the last calm before I ruin everything you love about APW.
People like Jason Zurra believe they can book me as a means of control. They’re wrong. I accept your six-man tag—sans one—just remember that when everything blows back in your faces.
Who are these jokers banded together across from me? The same sort mafia see in biker gangs, not that I have any knowledge of organized crime. Structure tells us everything we need to know about the Bloodline. Retention seems high for a power vacuum, especially when leadership uses members like the Russian Army against MG44 firepower. A blaze extinguished. A soul extracted. A mouth sewn shut.
I find a successful group has a central pull. Like a star guiding its solar system, organizations require leadership. Something Jason Ryan has continued to learn by prat falling every week on national television. Now Dani, I know you’ve had incursions with this yapping snot, but he’s just barking loud enough so that everyone takes him seriously. He called McMorris from his own pile of radioactive waste—no one engages that husk of a lifeform with a good story. They all end like a Russian winter: Cold, heartless with survivors living off roasted boot leather. Ryan continues to morph his message because it has never stuck to anyone but those with the mental capacity of flypaper. He’s not intimidating because there’s no consistency beyond random acts of failure. Such a pity. I know prestige because I am its definition. I am success, sir, maybe you can take a few pointers from the mat.”
Dani signs “five minutes” and seems to enjoy this unexpected gem of digital content.
”Sorry boys, looks like I need to rap this up—never! We finish when I want to finish. Keep rolling, and don’t forget to adjust my light setting. I don’t need to look like a ghost.
I cannot disassemble an organization without sundering support pillars. The first has to be Soulreaver, right? The seven-foot, near silent horsepower of the Bloodline whose one churning gear needs someone else to think and speak on his behalf. These sort of draught horses function well with medial tasks like ‘smash him’ or ‘carry this match while the rest recover’. I know what’s rattling in your heart, big man. I’m not referring to the uncommon stress you put on your body every day by existing. No… a life leashed by the bidding of otherworldly dreams. Ryan keeps you in a kennel until it’s time for ‘crushing’ because why should he be the one to absorb blows. You can take them, right? That’s not blurring his illusions, is it? I’d hate to be a voice of reason.”
Dani motions for him to get to the end behind wide, sulking eyes.
”Aaron Blaze might be the most concerning person in this match. Another firecracker under the age of twenty-five. Clueless but dangerous. They impress by giving everything, whether that means breaking vertebrae or turning red from his own blood. Lost boys ignore winning or records. They get lost in the shuffle from the ring to a backstage triage. Maladaptive daydreams last for a lifetime, Aaron, remembering the show but none of its cranial trauma. You’d rather go headfirst through a totem pole of light tubes than listen to an elder trying to save your budding career. I know it’s your life to throw away so recklessly… but somewhere, somehow, we can still save your humanity. Monday will present a door. You can enter it beside a giant hack and your jester of a king. Or, you can evolve.
Your group has no dreams. You can’t take over this place without a plan. First, you need to win matches—I hope you realize that much. Next, you have to find a target to topple. You can do more damage to this company through our Hardcore Title than World Champion speeches. Aim for something this group can string together because I’ve watched your giant reduced to silly putty too many times for it be a coincidence. How many people have sewn Ryan’s mouth shut to date? It takes fingers and toes to count them all. Where does that leave your group? It’s simple: the Bloodline never passed their first stage of development. Jason drafted a convoluted mission statement he nor any member could adhere to, drowning Blaze and Soulreaver at sea.
How do I know? I’m The Master. Before my loss to Jayson Price in Tokyo, this place was a coaster for my drinks. Even this week’s special hero, Smith Jones, bowed to the might of Masuda. I don’t make my nicknames nor take them lightly. People called me that out of respect—something your fearless leader will never earn from APW’s fans. They’re fickle, stupid dogs. If you want to see what happens when a true leader takes the helm… watch how I conduct the team across from your bad company. I don’t know L Verez, and only vaguely saw Damian Kaine during his stint in the front office. They’re competent enough to get the job done… something I doubt your people will be able say at the bell’s toll. Listen as it leads us to Kingdom Come, when the King in absentia retakes his throne... osama bansai.”
Dani motions a “cut” gesture to the camera operator. She then meets Masuda in his vengeful state.
Dani: Where was that hiding, under your lizard skin?
Jubei: This is why you don’t belong among these animals. You have a gift, Dani, yet you waste it on the mindless drones lured to our wrestling hive.
Dani: So what do you suggest? More attitude? Less professionalism? I value my career behind the camera as you do in the ring, Jubei. If this is another of your games—I’m not playing it.
Jubei: Consider it professional courtesy. I won’t be so forgiving next time.
Jubei looks into his subordinate’s eyes with renewed fury.
Jubei: My interview airs tonight. I can’t force you to watch it, Shoda, but I think you can learn from it too. I know you modeled Shoda enterprises off my company’s success. You have to make it over your first big hump. You might know its name, dislikes and effect on the company as a whole.
Shoda: I think so, Masuda-sama.
Jubei: Then get it done before my flight leaves for America. I need to be sure it’s been handled properly.
Shoda bows, leaving his leader to a morning view of Yokohama. It bellows back in surprise with the random wails of emergency sirens. Jubei walks and leans on its thick glass eyeing the same streets that once sought to end his young life. Now, if desired, flipped tables offer a tower to spit upon them all. He instead finds soothing energy from all the imperfect crags night hides so well.
