Quirky Row Chapter 41: Ronin Road Rage

Chapter 41: Ronin Road Rage

(Friday, January 14th, 2124)

Shogo grit his teeth as he listened to his father’s voice over the phone. Kazuo Akuji was not a man who shouted, but his displeasure was audible in the terse, clipped words he uttered in his native Japanese.

Off to the side, Jyunichi watched on impassively, feeling only a tiny shred of schadenfreude which he viciously stamped down on.

“Uh, what is going on?” Lee, one of the highest-ranking Ronin besides himself, asked in a whisper at his side.

His villain name was Tengu, due to his ability to grow wings from his back at will, and he was one of the few lieutenants Jyunichi respected. He was crass and far too glib, but he was also one of the handful who’d bothered to actually learn to fight with a sword or shoot a gun accurately, and was extremely competent as a manager of the various factions vying for power within the gang.

“Shogo is explaining to his father about his recent failures,” Jyunichi replied just as softly.

“Ah. He does not sound happy,” the red-headed American muttered.

“That’s because his son has brought great shame to the family. And now Akuji-Sama must come to America to teach Shogo how to lead,” the right-hand replied.

“Is that good or bad?” Lee wondered.

“That depends on who you are, and what you’ve done so far,” Jyunichi replied with a tiny snort.

“Hai, Chichiue,” Shogo said, before hanging up. Fury and shame burned in his eyes, and he turned to his two lieutenants.

“We need the Saints taken care of before my father arrives,” Shogo declared, and Lee blanched. That was a tall order, but Jyunichi had been expecting it.

“What would you have me do?” Jyunichi inquired, and Shogo glared, flicking a cigarette at him.

“What do you think I want you to do?! I want you to take some boys and fuck them up! I want ten Saints killed for every one of ours, got it?!” he snarled. “Burn down some stores that pay the Saints protection money, too, while you’re at it!”

Shogo then turned to Lee. “As for you! Get the Ronin ready to rumble! And inform the rest of the Ninjas that it’s time to step up the searches for the Saints’ identities! Start carving my name into the bodies of their families!”

“Got it, boss,” Lee promised.

Jyunichi just nodded. It was good to see Shogo regain a spark of defiance and desire to excel. Sure, it took him getting chewed out by their father, but Jyunichi figured it was worth it for the change wrought in the young man.

111 &&&&& 111

“Hey, Playa, you in?”

A knock at the door to his office along Mink’s voice calling out to him alerted Playa, causing him to look up from the massive stacks of paperwork he was forced to deal with, and pressed a button under his desk. The door swung open, admitting the pink-furred woman.

“When did you get a blast door installed?” she asked, eyeing the massive steel and lead lined door that had replaced his old one.

“A few days ago,” he replied. “Been busy reinforcing the whole building. Turned my office into a miniature bunker, along with several other rooms, including the bathrooms, the lounge, and the like. It’s a pretty nifty set-up, and I’m not taking any chances, not after some goon just waltzed in and kidnapped Shaundi.”

“Huh, yeah, good thinking,” Mink muttered. “Uh, how are we paying for this, exactly?”

“Liquidated a few assets from the Sons and Brotherhood. Plus, sold some of the Nazi gold after melting it down into trinkets. Want a golden Saints hood ornament?” Playa replied. “Even without that, we could have afforded it easily. The Saints are making good money, now. Even our merchandise line is selling well! Several thousand T-shirts, hats, and assorted memorabilia over the Thanksgiving and Christmas Holidays alone!”

“Cool, cool,” Mink hummed, impressed.

“So, what did you want to talk about?” Playa asked.

“A friend of mine who works at the Barely Legal strip club over on Misty Lane called me earlier, and said there’s a big Ronin bachelor party happening right now. They bribed the bouncers to look the other way and are violating the ‘No Touching’ rule. It’s getting pretty bad, too, since a couple Ronin lieutenants are attending it, and nobody wants to stop ‘em,” Mink informed Playa, who frowned.

“Disgusting behavior,” he uttered.

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” Mink agreed.

Playa was about to offer to go and deal with it himself, but paused. After thinking it over, he shook his head, a new idea coming to mind.

“Alright, I’ll send a few guys over. Have them kick in some teeth. Johnny will probably enjoy getting to cut loose,” Playa offered, and Mink grinned.

“Thanks! That’s a big help!” she said.

“Don’t worry, the Saints are supposed to help Stilwater. And if I’m not mistaken, Misty Lane is pretty deep in Ronin territory up north, so doing this will give ‘em a nice black eye while he’s kicking their asses,” Playa replied, Mink snorting in agreement.

And kick ass Johnny did. The Ronin, even with a couple of Ninja, were no match while drunk against the might of a dozen Saints. And Johnny, of course. The strip club got trashed a bit, but it was nothing insurance couldn’t cover. Playa was glad it was a success, too, for different reasons.

‘I’ve been doing a lot of crap for the Saints. Lotta fighting and shit. Was worried the boys would get rusty sitting off on the sidelines all this time, but I’m glad that wasn’t the case,’ he mused to himself, pleased by the outcome.

The Saints couldn’t always rely on him to do everything. They needed to be able to fight for themselves. What if he got incapacitated again? Somebody would have to handle things while he wasn’t around to do things for them.

And that, in Playa’s opinion, was why the Saints had collapsed when he’d gone into a coma. Johnny was a good enforcer, and had held the gang together as best he could for two years, but a lot of the success the Saints had had was thanks to Skunk all but single handedly eliminating the Big Three. It had been his plans that had seen their collapse. His plans that cornered the villains and heroes of the city. And because he did everything by himself, the gang never learned how to stand on its own.

‘I can’t keep standing in the spotlight all the time,’ Playa thought to himself. ‘I can still do some things, but running the gang is important, and I can’t do that if I’m constantly running around the city, doing odd jobs and missions other members of the gang can easily do in my stead!’

With that in mind, Playa left the mission around seven in the evening, tired but excited. Aisha and Johnny had invited him and his new girlfriends over for dinner, and who was he to turn down a free, home-cooked meal with the people he loved? Mink and Shaundi would meet him there, the two wanting to have ‘girl time’ with Aisha before he and Johnny got there.

As he was driving to his friends’ home, however, Playa noticed that two pairs of head lights coming up behind him seemed off, for some reason.

‘No, wait, that’s not two cars… that’s four motor cycles!’ he realized. They were driving side by side in pairs, and far enough back that the darkness of night obscured them, masking their actual numbers!

That was some clever work, but not good enough to stop him, and looking closer in the rear view mirror, the motorcycles were painted yellow and black.

“Ronin,” he spat out. Why were they following him? Coincidence?

That slim hope was dashed when one of the pairs drove up beside him, and Playa was soon looking down the barrel of a shotgun.

He swore loudly and immediately jerked the wheel, slamming the side of his car into the motorcycle that’d gotten close. The Ronin riding it went flying with a scream, and that seemed to be the signal for the other three to attack, gunfire ringing out into the cold night air.

The bullets bounced off of the reinforced car frame, tires, and windows, though, Playa having anticipated something like this happening and thus reinforcing his ride.

He was glad for that, but even top-of-the-line upgrades could be whittled down by sheer volume of concentrated fire, and he didn’t want to wait around to find out how much his car could take.

“Pick up, pick up, pick up!” Playa muttered as he punched a phone number into the phone app built into the dashboard.

“Johnny! Pick up the damn phone!” Playa snarled as it began to ring. Finally, the call connected, and he could hear his right-hand man’s familiar drawl.

“What’s up, Playa? You gonna be here soon? Aisha’s getting the oven ready!”

“Johnny, there’s a goddamned mob of Ronin on my tail!” Playa shouted. “Get over here, quick!”

“Whoa, shit! On my way!” Johnny replied. “Where are you?”

“Follow the GPS ping I’m sending you!” Playa retorted, then cursed as he had to swerve to avoid a bunch of bullets bouncing off his windshield. He quickly sent his location data to Johnny, and then turned around, driving in a completely different direction. He didn’t want to accidentally lead the yellow bastards to Johnny and Aisha’s house.

As he drove, Playa swerved again, ramming into one of the motorcycles to run him off the road, or at least trying to. The Ronin riding it had a Quirk that let him absorb the force of impacts and disperse them as sparks of flames. It was certainly eye catching, Playa could admit, though it seemed the moron had forgotten he was riding a vehicle full of flammable fuel, as the motorcycle abruptly exploded.

“Huh, I guess the Ronin fill their tanks with Explodium,” Playa noted.

Ever since the oil fields in the Middle East had become nearly inaccessible due to nuclear fallout from the Third World War, everyone had scrambled for a solution. The artificial – and most importantly, easily manufactured – solution was called Explodium, a highly volatile chemical liquid several times more potent than petroleum.

Driving around in a vehicle that could explode if it got too hot wasn’t exactly something he was interested in, however, hence why Playa exclusively drove electric cars. And thanks to recent advances in battery technology from I-Island, more and more people were doing the same. Nowadays, most people used Explodium in generators for buildings and power plants, and not for powering vehicles.

But that was something to ponder another time, as he was still in a drive-by. Watching one of his attackers coming up behind him, Playa immediately hit the brakes, coming to a screeching halt. The Ronin who’d been tailgating him couldn’t stop in time and flipped over the roof of the car, landing in a heap on the hood.

Playa started reversing a moment later and the Ronin slid off, tumbling across the asphalt even as his bike was crushed underneath the car’s wheels.

“Huh, that was easy, guess I didn’t need Johnny’s help. That’s three down, one to… go?” Playa uttered, as he saw seven new motorcycles screaming towards him. “Damn it, shouldn’t have tempted Fate!”

He put pedal to the metal and shot off, hurtling down a side street away from the suburbs. There were too many civilians nearby that could get hurt by the crossfire.

“Where the hell are the cop or heroes?!” Playa couldn’t help but wonder aloud as more bullets rattled against the rear windshield. The explosion should have gotten someone’s attention at the very least!

‘The Ronin must be either jamming the signals, or more likely, they’re bribing somebody to give them time to do this without interference,’ Playa mused darkly, turning down onto a slightly busier street. The screeching of tires, the honking of horns, and the screams of pedestrians rang out as he led the Ronin on a merry chase, wincing as more and more shots bounced off of his car.

“I am not looking forward to buffing out all these dents,” Playa grumbled as he pulled off a drift, managing to catch the Ronin by surprise and peeling past them.

“COME ON, CATCH ME IF YOU CAN!” he shouted, though he wasn’t sure any of them could hear him. It made him feel better, though.

Playa suddenly spotted a ninth motorcycle approaching him head on, but before he went to ram it, he recognized the person riding it.

“Yeehaw, fuckers!” Johnny called out, driving a motorcycle while firing an assault rifle into the Ronins.

They tried to scatter, but an underslung grenade launcher sent an explosive round flying where it exploded in the midst of the pack of motorcycles, destroying three of them outright before they could split up.

“The cavalry has arrived!” Johnny announced as he drove up alongside Playa’s car. “Yo, boss! You all good?”

“Yeah, remind me to give my compliments to Mink and the mechanics, their upgrades held up really good,” Playa complimented. “Now, let’s finish these bastards!”

Johnny laughed in agreement, and the two of them began to travel around,  Playa rolled the window down slightly and shot his revolver into the Ronin while Johnny laughed maniacally as he blindly fired into the motorcycle riding gangsters.

With backup and a lot of firepower, the eight Ronin were gutted.

“You’d think they’d have brought something a bit more heavy duty than shotguns and submachineguns,” Johnny mused as he looked over the blood-stained road. Sirens were blaring in the distance, making Playa nervous.

“Let’s get out of here,” he suggested, and the two of them drove off, splitting up at an intersection to avoid getting both of them caught by the approaching heroes. It was a real mess, and Playa wondered how the Ronin had tracked him. Had it been an attack of opportunity? It didn’t seem like it.

Just in case, though, he left his car in the parking lot of a random fast-food restaurant then hired a cab to drive him to a street near Aisha’s house. It wasn’t paranoia if they really were out to get you, after all. Then it was simply prudence.

“Aisha? It’s me, Playa,” he said, fishing out his phone and contacting Johnny’s wife.

“Where are you? Is Johnny with you?” she demanded.

“I’m a block away from your house, and Johnny and I split up to get away from the heroes,” he informed her. “I’ll use the special door knock code to let you know it’s me.”

“What? Why the secrecy?” Aisha inquired.

“I think the Ronin are watching us,” he replied. “Better safe than sorry.”

“Hmph, alright, I’ll be waiting,” Aisha said. “Also, Shaundi and Mink are here.”

“Gotcha, thanks for keeping them company,” Playa said gratefully.

“I’ll let them know you’re fine,” she assured him, then hung up.

Playa pocketed his phone and walked along the sidewalk through the suburban neighborhoods for a few minutes until he reached Aisha and Johnny’s love nest, and knocked on the door in a specific pattern. A moment later the door opened up and he was ushered inside.

“Hey, Aisha,” he muttered.

“Playa,” she greeted, before jerking her head over towards the living room. “Get in there.”

The gang leader nodded and walked over to the couches. Shaundi and Mink jumped up from their seats and rushed over to him when they saw him.

“Idiot!” Mink huffed.

“What she said! Damn it, don’t go around scaring us like that!” Shaundi griped, punching his chest. He winced, and bobbed his head.

“Sorry about that, but it’s not like I went looking for the Ronin. Uh, not right then, at least,” Playa replied. He then looked around.

“Where’s Johnny? I thought he’d be here by now,” Playa asked Aisha.

“I asked him to pick up some milk and other groceries on his way back,” she explained. “Since he was already out.”

“He was just involved in a mass shooting with the Ronin near the highway, and you sent him to get milk?” Playa uttered incredulously.

“What? We’re out, and he refuses to eat cereal without any,” Aisha replied with a shrug. Playa rolled his eyes at that response, and shook his head at the ridiculousness of it.

In the end, though, this was Stilwater, and so it shouldn’t be a surprise for any poor guy working the cash register in the nearest supermarket to run into a supervillain buying groceries.

“So, how’s your sister?” Playa asked, changing the topic as he sat down on the couch in between Shaundi and Mink.

“Maya is doing well. Frustrated, though. She lost a few points in the rankings to Steel Sponge after the chaos you guys caused with the Sons of Samedi,” Aisha replied.

“Really? Why? She orchestrated a large drug bust, and ‘drove off’ the Saints as well,” Mink wondered, confused by that.

“Yeah, but in that very same operation the hero Stampede was killed, and it was later discovered the two stockpiles the Saints were sitting on was actually full of chalk dust and flour, not actual drugs,” the singer explained.

“Ah, that would explain it,” Shaundi muttered. “And since Silver Swan went out of her way to keep Steel Sponge away from the Sons of Samedi drug bust, he didn’t lose any reputation. Not to mention he ‘caught’ Mr. Sunshine, thus avenging Stampede’s death.”

“Ugh, it’s like high school clique politics all over again, just with actual statistics to measure popularity,” Mink groaned.

“Sure is,” Aisha agreed. “Maya remains Stilwater’s Number One hero, but it’s not as much of a sure thing as it was before.”

“Let’s talk about something else,” Mink suggested. “Like, how your newest album just went platinum!”

Playa listened with half and ear as the ladies talked about this and that, only perking up when he heard the front door opening.

“Johnny, glad you could… what the hell?” he began, turning his head to look over at the entrance. He saw his best friend and second-in-command walking in with a bag of groceries in one hand, and a Ronin in the other, the criminal’s arms trapped behind his back and kept from moving thanks to Johnny’s belt tying them up. The Ronin also had a black eye and broken nose, and looked slightly dazed.

“Uh, what the hell, Johnny?” Aisha demanded.

“Caught this guy snooping around in the neighborhood,” Johnny explained.

“Are you sure he was snooping? Maybe he just lived nearby,” Mink said.

“Nah, this guy was definitely up to some funny business. Nobody carries around a high quality camera and listening devices unless they’re doing shady shit.”

“Really? He was spying on the place while wearing his gang’s very obvious and signature outfit?” Shaundi asked in disbelief. “That seems really stupid.”

“Trying to spy on us,” Johnny corrected. “Didn’t seem to know for sure we’d be here. And nobody ever claimed the Ronin were all that smart. This bastard’s just a mook anyways.”

He then dropped the Ronin, letting his head fall onto the glass coffee table, which shattered loudly.

“I just bought that!” Aisha exclaimed in annoyance.

“Oops. Sorry, Eesh,” Johnny apologized. He then crouched next to the thug. “Now, why don’t you tell us what you’re doing here, huh?”

“Y-you bastard!” the Ronin managed to spit out, the impact with the surface of the table having jarred his head slightly. “When Mr. Akuji gets here, you’ll be sorry!”

“Whatever,” Johnny drawled, before drawing a gun and putting a single bullet through the Ronin’s brain.

“Johnny!” Aisha shrieked.

“What? We just need to get a new carpet to go with the coffee table,” he replied, and she threw her arms into the air in exasperation.

“Just FYI, but if you ever shoot a guy in our apartment and make a mess like that, you’re sleeping on the couch,” Shaundi warned Playa, Mink nodding along with her.

“Duly noted,” he muttered.

“Huh, I just realized he said ‘Mr. Akuji.’ Not ‘Shogo,’” Johnny spoke up, glaring at the body in contemplation.

“So?” Playa asked.

“Remember the briefing I gave ya? Shogo might run the Ronin but his support comes from his father, the boss, or ‘Oyabun,’ of a Yakuza group in Japan. Kazuo Akuji. From the sounds of it, Shogo’s no longer in full control of operations here in Stilwater,” Johnny mused.

“Is that bad? Or good?” Mink wondered.

“Both. This seems like a factional dispute within the Ronin is gonna break out. Shogo’s henchmen versus the ones loyal to his dad. Could be good for us as they have to stop focusing solely on us. But then again, this could be a bad situation since we'll eyes the eyes of the papa on us.” Johnny replied.

“What do you know about this guy?” Shaundi asked.

“Not much. Akuji is a big name in the Japanese underworld, and I heard some horror stories from a few guys in prison who were associated with the Ronin. Kazuo is a very ‘burn the fields, poison the wells and salt the earth’ kinda person when it comes to dealing with people who oppose him. That means going after entire families to punish one man,” Johnny said.

“Think we kicked the hornet’s nest after messing up the Ronin’s shit at the casino and the club?” Playa wondered.

“That might be something to worry about, yeah,” Johnny said with a nod. “Best to keep an eye out on the airport and any flights coming in from Japan.”

“Making a note of it right now!” Shaundi assured him as she whipped out a phone and texting a message.

“Good. Now, what do we do with this guy?” Playa asked, looking down at the dead Ronin who was leaking everywhere.

“I know a couple ‘cleaners,’” Johnny assured him.

“We should probably get a few body disposal people on the Saints’ payroll if we’re gonna be targeted by the Ronin,” Mink suggested. “When they were on the rise, I remember that they liked to target people in their homes.”

Playa nodded in agreement, finding that plan as a good one.

“Wonderful! Now, is somebody gonna clean up this mess?” Aisha demanded, giving Johnny the stinkeye.

“I’ll get a trash bag. And a mop,” Johnny said. “Eesh, can you call Danny?”

“Which Danny? Danny from the Docks, or Danny from the liquor store?” she asked.

“Whichever one handles body pickup and disposal,” Johnny replied as he went to grab a mop. “Hey, sorry, Playa, seems like we gotta take a bit of a rain check.”

“That’s fine,” Playa assured him. “Come on, girls. Do you wanna grab a bite to eat somewhere else before we head home?”

“Sure, I could go for a burger,” Mink said, and Shaundi nodded eagerly.

“Let’s get some Freckle Bitches!” Shaundi declared. That sounded like a tasty plan, and Playa agreed. They called a taxi and drove off, leaving Johnny to his well-deserved punishment and Aisha’s ‘tender mercies.’