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The sun had barely begun to crest over the quiet suburban neighborhood, but Tatsu—once known as the "Immortal Dragon"—was already deep in a life-or-death struggle. Clad in his signature dark suit, sunglasses, and a floral shiba-inu apron, he stood over a cutting board. His target: a perfectly symmetrical bento for his wife, Miku.
On his way home, a black sedan pulled up. A former underling, Masa, jumped out, looking frantic. "Boss! The guys... they miss you! We need the Dragon back!" Gokushufudou
: Stunned by his "professional" assessment, Mrs. Tanaka stepped back. Tatsu secured the kale, bowed deeply, and moved toward the checkout with the grace of a shinobi. The Past Returns The sun had barely begun to crest over
: Tatsu didn't flinch. He leaned in, his voice a low, gravelly rasp that usually made men tremble. "Sister... that kale has a slight bruise on the stem. You’re better off with the spinach on the lower shelf; it’s prime stock." On his way home, a black sedan pulled up