The air was thick with tension as Tetsuya Kurosaki entered the traditional, dimly lit room of the Kurosaki estate situated in a corner of Tokyo. The walls were adorned with old photographs and weapons, each telling the legacy of the Kurosaki Yakuza family. He walked slowly, his shoes echoing on the wooden floor as he approached the low table where the head of the family, Jiro Kurosaki, sat in a commanding position, flanked by several high-ranking commanders.
He didn't forget to pay the proper respect to his leader by giving a proper bow, because he knew for the Yakuza, the hierarchy was everything.
Jiro Kurosaki was a man of immense presence, his short gray hair neatly combed back, his broad shoulders and sharp eyes betraying the fact that, despite his age, he was still a force to be reckoned with. His deep voice cut through the silence as he motioned for Tetsuya to sit.
