Because the day was so drain like Anzai was in his office attempting to handle some problems with the club that him and Hachi had open up. It had been getting active every single night they open so a lot of things where on both him and Hachi to fix things up. Akane just got done fixing up the security with the Club allowing both Hachi and Anzai a eye in when they weren't inside of the club on any kind of device they had. Such as a phone or a watch, they could check on things. It was much like the Estate or the H.Q, even the warehouse and Café had the same kind of thing thanks to Akane an his brain on tech. A few days ago Anzai had Q make a deal with some property lands to open up some more safe houses and a second warehouse, another thing Anzai had to sit down to handle in a little while. With Q standing outside his office door, the place quite for the most part, all Anzai could do right now is work on what he needed to do. A little while ended up passing and Anzai got a call from his brother. " Yes Akane? It's rare of you to even call me.. Is something wrong?" Akane started to explain there was a breech in some of his security cams and he couldn't understand why it happen. With a soft sigh Anzai mumbled rolling his eyes. " Come to the office we can handle it from here. Just make it fast and we'll figure out what was wrong." Hanging up the phone it was now only a matter of waiting for Akane to get here but for now Anzai handled his own area of business.


There was a french cut just above the inside of her lip. Right there, on the very center where her tongue just happened to brush to and fro, across and along that course line. Had she focused on anything else, Mameha WOULD HAVE taken a fist full of the security guard’s hair and force his face into her knee the second she felt his hand linger too long on the inside of her thigh. Luckily for––what was this sunnuvabitch’s name again?––Kohetsu Manomori, she was working on her reflexes. The man had just slid up to his feet after discarding her last and final poisonous artifact, letting it clammer on with the rest at the counter as the minimal shiny count was over 45 different pieces.. He could only shake his head at the broad. “You pack a sewing shop in there or what?” No response. That’s just what he’d expect. “Are we done here.” Wesley asks him politely, waiting with languidness on his expression by the black figuro couches. Kohetsu gave him a curt nod, showing them back up to the patient admin. “Yeah, she’ll take you now.” Wesley kicked his feet off the floor, passing Mameha with euphemism. “It only took twenty-something minutes, jesus.” He curses aloud, to which Mr. Manomori would only grimace. Mameha joined Wesley at the heel as they both approached the one and only assistant introduced at the phone call before she led them up to the meeting room where the contract details would be further discussed. The faint scent of Paco Rabanne gave off the air of black card, silk collar, drug pursuit along the infrastructure and Mameha didn’t need eyes to see that the pair of them were waiting for judgement at the end of this rope. Once inside the room, they scaled either side of the U shaped table before sitting to the right shoulder, both made aware that the Oyabun would be notified of their presence and join soon after. That was fine with Mameha. She could wait.


About an hour passed now and nothing good came out of what was happening. Akane had manage to handle things with his Tech, at least in ways he knew how too. But it was still odd to the brothers that something along those lines happen. Akane had made his own things, with his own hands, his own codes, everything. Only a hand full of people knew so it was a bother to them both that something like that happen. However, it was Akane's job to now find out what was going on. While Akane left Anzai stood back to finish up any paper work he had going for him that was until the phone rang and of course Q answered. " Yes?" on the other line one of the men explained that someone was in the meeting room waiting to see the Oyabun. " Sir? You've got someone waiting to see you in the meeting hall. A woman? “
Q explained. Now annoyed that he couldn't get the chance to finish his papers Anzai got up from his chair waiting Q take his jacket to drape over his shoulders and lighting up a cig for the boss before they left the office. the building it self was huge, it had offices, rooms, sleeping quarter's, kittens, a dojo, bar, game room, training lounge and much more. So the walk from the office to the meeting hall was a little over ten minutes. When they got there the doors where open and the first to enter was not Anzai, but Q himself along with a range of men; at least three before Anzai walked in. The moment he enter that room every single guard who was in there stood up tall and did a bow. When it came down to people Anzai just remain quiet allowing Q to do his answering. Sitting at the other end of the table with Q at his side both the men sighed watching now the guards leave the room. " To whom does the Oyabun owe the pleasure of speaking with?" Q started. His hands were folded in front of him and his body was close enough to Anzai's to the point where their arms touched. It was how things were done between the two.


The space between the two couldn’t have been greater. Every footstep that had entered the meeting room was hollow in her ears but Wesley could hear their tremendous weight, each one sinking harder onto his shoulders. The corner of his eye twitched in sync with his bottom lip, trying to imagine that if he did end up dead today—he’d still look young and delicious. Maybe that was optimistic given that there was a record of gangsters bodies found in the beach with their genitals stuffed down their throats. Right, not ideal. The Oyabun was as tall and great as the name would suggest. His righthand followed alongside him like a shadow attached to tailcoats, even moving in sync with the air around him. Wesley couldn’t take his eyes off him. When the question was approached, he could feel his tongue traveling along the lines of his crooked teeth with a bitterness. He takes the surface of the table and stands, asserting himself. This is where he pledges his allegiance. “This afternoon’s request for an audience with the Oyabun is to introduce a new offer on the table––no. To introduce a new offer on the industry of addiction.” Wesley swallows, eyes steadying themselves back to the weight of the grand boss’s caveat level. “My associate comes from the Kutchkova lineage. Previously known in the industry was Mao Kutchkova. She was the alchemist to heroin, meth, cocaine, you name it. Her product was so prestigious, she made her brand known to the industry when settling up alliances between the involved governing district territories in order to AVOID competitive slaughter, as you might have recalled.” At this point, Wesley caught the very glance of Mameha where her lips would thin into a tight line. This was the kicker. “Her disappearance from the market was just before she introduced new blood into the works. Liquid opium. Your Dira associates sought this product to no avail until now and can even confirm this is the real thing. Based on the contract regulations that were indirectly distributed to both dealing parties, Mameha cannot agree to selling this premium quality at a low percentage of ownership. She is however willing to listen to counter offers in exchange of fixing ownership percentage to either meet her expectations or exceed. That being said, we await further revision through you, Anzai.”