Fight Club

The Lotus Blossom, a club in the Japanese district, was home to one of the Yakuza syndicates stationed in the states. While it fronts as a typical Night club, the place is actually a front for an illegal sex ring, using trafficked women. Scum from all walks of life were here tonight, including many of the NYPDs worst, looking to unload their frustrations onto an innocent victim.

Kenji sauntered through the alley at the back of the building, his bokken resting on his shoulder as he approached the table two men were currently sitting at, playing Shogi.  

“Hey, you lost buddy!?” One of them jumped to their feet as Kenji got close, holding a hand out to stop him from moving close to the door. “Employees only, asshole.”  

Before the man could react, the hand on Kenjis chest was twisted and pulled to the side, as the bokken swung hard across the face of the second guy when they tried to get up. As the first man reached for his gun with his other hand, he felt a sharp pain between his eyes as Kenji struck him with the pommel of the bokken, and everything went black.  

Kenji let go of the limp hand, walking over to the backdoor to the club, giving a knock. He then took a few steps back before charging forward. As he got close, another man opened the door, just in time to see Kenji jump up, twist around, and kick the door wide open. The man fell back from the force, quickly trying to scramble to his feet.  

As Kenji walked inside, he swung his foot out, kicking the man under the jaw, knocking him out. “Knock knock.” He stated in a modulated voice, flipping the bokken back onto his shoulder as more men stepped out of various rooms into the hallway.  

As some random EDM music started to play from the club up front, the men rushed at Kenji.  

As one swung at him from the right, he ducked underneath, striking him in the sternum with the bokken, followed by a roundhouse kick to knock him into the wall hard. Using the momentum, Kenji caught a second punch with his free hand, rapidly striking the man with his sword, before flipping it in his hand, hooking it behind neck as he pulled him in the path of a third mans punch, letting his face take the full force. As the man reeled back, realizing he had just hit his ally, Kenji slammed his foot into his chest in a spartan kick, sending him flying back into one of the rooms.  

As two more close in, Kenji dragged the man he had ahold of around, throwing him into the other two, knocking all three of them in different directions. This gave Kenji an opening to move through, jabbing and swinging his bokken into them as he passed by, finishing each one with a strike to across the face.  

As the last man dropped, girls stepped out of the rooms, curiously checking on what had happened.  

Kenjis heart sank as a young girl came out of the room next to him, she was no older than 14. She held the top of her “school-girl” out closed with her hands, the buttons had come off, clearly coming off from the top being ripped open.  

One of the older girls ran back into one of the rooms, coming out with a suit jacket, presumably one of the unconscious mens. She rushed over to the little girl and wrapped the jacket around her, holding her as she cried. It seemed Kenji had managed to arrive before the man could get really started before being interrupted, but Kenji didn’t know how far he managed to get.

“Go on, get out of here...” Kenji nodded over to the exit. “There’s a womens shelter a couple blocks up the street, the manager is a good person, they will keep you safe.”  

“What about the others in the club??” The girl piped up.  

Kenji looked over to the door leading to the club. “Don’t worry, they’ll be right behind you...” Even with the modulator, his anger was clear in his voice, and his grip on the bokken tightened. “Now go, before more come back here looking.”

The girl stepped up to him, giving him a quick hug. “Thank you.” She then turned with the others, running out of the building.  

Kenji cracked his neck as he stalked into front of the club, scanning the scene in front of him. The place was packed, and plenty of unsuspecting people that were just here to dance and drink. They didn’t concern Kenji, once shit hit the fan, they would all, maybe one or two deciding to be brave, but that was on them.  

The other girls they mentioned were easy to spot, it was the way they strutted around, it didn’t seem natural, as if they were shutting themselves down, and letting the muscle memory take over. One looked over to Kenji with an expression that seemed to be a mix of shock and pleading for help.  

“Hey, you...” Another man in a suit came over to Kenji. “What the hell are yo-...”  

Kenji brought the full force of his bokken into a swing, striking the man across the jaw, hearing a satisfying crunch of bone being shattered.  

Several people near the scene screamed, seeing a man in a blue demon mask just lay a man out with a blunt sword. Like Kenji figured, the people started to scatter, racing out the door, only the Yakuza members remaining, along with the worker girls, and a few of the patrons. As they drew guns, Kenji realized they were cops, most likely working for the Yakuza, or not wanting Kenji to destroy their den of depravity.  

Either way, Kenji didn’t care, they were all gonna pay.

The music coming from the club was so loud that it reverberated in Chie’s bones, she had gotten in the line when the sun had gone down, and now, after over an hour of waiting she had finally gotten to the entrance. They didn’t even care, about her, which was good since she didn’t have an ID. She knew she was exactly the kind of person they wanted in their club, for all the wrong reasons. She saw the eager look in the bouncer's eyes as he looked her over, the same way half of the people in the line had oggled her all night. It disgusted her how well her ‘disguise’ was working. A crop top that exposes the shoulders, leaving her toned abs and broad shoulders concealed under a thin veil of fishnet. She had on a bulky pair of black cargo pants and had concealed the lower half of her face with a black face mask, the decal of a cat’s whiskers and face imprinted on it.

Chie had heard about a couple of girls from her high school going missing, and a bit of sleuthing led her here, with a lot more missing people suspiciously last seen here. Now Chie was stepping into the den of the beast. The club was stuffy inside, partly because people were smoking inside, but also because of the hundreds of people crammed like sardines into the darkened building. People danced under flashing lights that briefly revealed the sweaty bodies grinding and dancing, drinking and smoking, embracing a night of utter indulgence.


To the average person, the crowd would be overwhelming, a sea of silhouettes moving like a single mass. To Chie, the darkness was trivial and she saw each face as clear as day. It didn’t take her long to see the signs. Her eyes flickered through the crowd, and she spotted a hand slither it’s way to a drink and sprinkle a powder into a drink before slinking back into the crowd. Another, a handsome man talking to a group of girls, motioning to a door behind the bar. The longer she looked the worse the scene unfolding became. She knew it would be a fool’s errand to save each girl stricken tonight, though there was a phantom pain as she thought about those unfortunate enough to have already been subject to whatever comes next. Each girl shared the same fate. They were all being taken to the back and she watched the door, looking for a chance to get in.

It came as a surprise when a man with a strange mask exited the back. Looking him over, she was surprised to find he had a weapon, though an odd one for any real criminal. She quickly saw just how effective he was with the weapon as she cringed at the sight of a man’s jaw being shattered, People scrambled to escape, trampling each other in terror. The darkness did not help them and for a moment it was pandemonium. The pandemonium that Chie took clear advantage of. Chie slid into cover, hiding behind the bar that had been left abandoned. The music remained on as she peeked over, looking at the standoff. This stranger was outnumbered and outgunned, a feeling she knew all too well. With surprise still on her side, Chie knew she had to help him. From one of the many pockets of her pants, she pulled out a handful of her signature weapon.

Three gangsters groaned in pain and fell to the floor, writhing in agony. The others had no idea what had happened to them until they saw a shuriken plant itself directly into another gangster’s leg. A perfect shot at the Achilles heel, his calve balled up like a knot as he screamed in agony. The rest of their eyes traced back to the woman now standing on the bar, holding a metallic staff in one hand, the other clenched into a fist.

Kenji cocked his head as three of the Yakuza dropped to the floor, catching the sight of a shuriken hitting the fourth, cutting his Achilles tendon. Kenjis head turned to see there was another figure who had stuck around. Dressed like the other club patrons, a crop top, fishnet, baggy pants, and a face mask with a kitty whisker design. She stood on top of the bar, facing down the crowd of men opposing the both of them, a Bo-staff in hand.  

Kenji smirked under the mask, as his attention was turned back to his targets, bringing the Bokken to rest on his shoulder, scanning any movements as he calculated his next move.  

His eyes caught the glint of one of the cops drawing their pistol to his right, taking aim. As the round was fired, however, Kenji was already tucked away in a nearby both, keeping the wall between him and the three other stray rounds trying to chase him. He glanced up to the other masked figure, giving her a casual salute before grabbing a bottle of liquor that had been left on the table of the booth. He could hear the cop inching forward, as he waited till he was in range, before stepping out of the booth, moving quickly to his right to avoid another bullet as he beamed the thick bottle towards the mans face.  

The bottle collided directly with the mans nose, the sound of the cartilidge breaking could be heard as the bottle didn’t break from the impact. Before the man could recover, there was a Bokken coming down on his gun hand, the gun flying out of his hand from the force. It was clear to the cop that whoever this mask man was, he was looking to hurt him. There were several powerful punchs driven into his stomach as Kenji pushed him backwards, knowing the others wouldn’t dare take a shot, not with the risk of hurting an officer of the law in the process. When one of the Yakuza men were close enough, Kenji twirled the Bokken in his hand, bringing it back up hard between the cops legs.  

He deserved far worse, knowing what Kenji knew of the place.  

As the cop collapsed to the floor, crying in agony as he clutched at his groin, Kenji shifted to the next closest Yakuza, driving the Bokken hard where his neck and collar bone meet. The man dropped, trying to bring his pistol up to shoot the vigilante, only for the Bokken to come down on the top of his head. His arm went limp, blood running down his face, as he suddenly went catatonic from the blunt force, but was still ultimately alive.  

Kenji continued down the right side of the club, not concerning himself with how his sudden ally was doing. Given her brazen display, and taking out four of them with projectiles before they could react, he was certain she was handling herself. His focus was on breaking as many of these men as he could manage.