What would my folks think of me now? I was a "security consultant" for high-value targets. On paper, I worked for trust-fund idiots who thought it was a good idea to party in some third world country for spring break. However, most of my money came from telling crime syndicates and other less than savory characters that their security sucks. Most people begrudgingly listen to my advice and make the necessary adjustments. But all it takes is one fuckup to turn you into a has-been.

Japan. Winter 1996 (2 Months before the events of Fujiyama Gangsta Paradise)
           Two people were sitting inside nervously talking about something only they knew about. One was a Japanese man in his 40's with sunglasses and a trench coat. His name was Ginji Matsuzaki. He's a former assassin turned protector of Yukio Washimine. The other person was me. A 23-year-old Filipino with spiked up black hair and a three-piece suit. People simply called me Ryan.

"Look, I don't care about that you don't want her to get involved in this. You told me yourself Mr. Matsuzaki, they will not accept anyone but her."

The former assassin only looked up at me in anger.

"What would a gaijin mercenary like you possibly know about how things work here? I should kill you right now for your insolence."

Great. Now he's reaching for his sword. Better calm him down before things get ugly.

"There's no need to get violent. I'm simply saying that if you don't quell the doubts about this clan's leadership, someone will try to kill her with the help of the Kosa Council. After all, there is a large amount of money to be made here." 

As I said that, his face softened and his hand proceeded to the bottle of sake on the table. As he did that, I simply breathed a sigh of relief. Then, he spoke again in a softer, almost regretful voice.

"I simply cannot allow her to get involved with this mess." On his face, there was a look of something that I couldn't truly explain. Regret? Anger? Grief? God damn this guy's confusing. Oh well, time to make some money.

"I know.  However, this whole clan is still a target. If you don't want to get her involved, the least I can do is offer you a fallback plan."

As the night went on, we talked about different retirement plans. Properties outside the country (which I get 10% commission on), Different stock options, and even a move into animation was considered. Afterwards, I got 100k for my work and another 500k from property commissions. Sounds good right? Well, turns out that the Kosa Council decided to strike them down only a few months later and I was blamed for not giving them my "full support" or some other bullshit.  *sigh* At least I got paid and a decent phone out of it. Apparently, the start-up sound is making fun of a gaijin gunslinger who killed Ginji in a fight.
 
(In Japanese) 
Standard Magical girl music in the background.
*Magical girl voice*
"Radical Revy-chan on stage!"
*Confused Male*
"Who are you?"
*Narrator's voice*
"The Magical Girl"

           It's a damn shame I can't understand their language. After that whole fiasco, I was out of a job and couldn't really go anywhere.  To make things worse, all my money was locked up cause I invested in small businesses stateside or in penny stocks like Apple or Google. At this point, all I can do is head to the nearest shithole and wait for the money to free up. Turns out, the most profitable shithole nearby is in Thailand. A little island of scum and villainy called Roanapur. Sounds like my kind of place.
(Next Chapter:https://pastebin.com/edit/WWFQgqti)
(Good Morning Roanapur)