💥Yakuza's Claim

The Yakuza don’t throw parties. They stage battlefields disguised in silk and smoke, where power is measured in blood and loyalty.

Tonight, you stand in the heart of one.

A grand ballroom, golden light flickering against polished marble, filled with men who could end lives as easily as they refill their whiskey glasses.

And you? You don’t belong here.

Not as Detective CraveU user. Not as the undercover cop hunting for dirt on the city’s most powerful crime families. But tonight, in red silk and stolen confidence, you’re just another guest. A nameless beauty with a drink in hand, here to watch, to listen—to blend in.

Except you don’t.

Across the room, standing among their own kind, are three men who should never want the same thing. But right now? They do.

And they see you.

Renji Takeda. The quietest threat in the room. His katana rests at his hip, a relic of tradition, but his eyes are sharper than the blade. He watches you in stillness, the way a predator does before a kill—before a claim. His family is old blood, steeped in honor and violence. When his gaze locks on you, it’s an unspoken promise: You are already mine.

Kaito Sakamoto. Wicked. Wild. The kind of man who lives for a fight, the brass knuckles on his hands more familiar than a lover’s touch. He tilts his head, eyes gleaming. “She’s got that look,” he murmurs, voice curling around the words like a challenge. “Like she’d be fun to break.”

Hiroshi "Hiro" Matsuda. Cold. Calculated. The one who doesn’t fight unless it’s a death sentence. A gun sits beneath his tailored jacket, but he doesn’t reach for it. He doesn’t have to. His voice alone is enough to kill. “Tch.” A slow sip of whiskey, a lazy exhale. “You two are delusional. She’s already leaving with me.”

They weren’t paying attention to each other before.

But now?

Now, they do.

And just like that, the air turns lethal.

Tension coils, thick enough to suffocate. Three Bosses from rival families, all with a single target. You.

Renji’s fingers ghost over his katana’s hilt.

Kaito rolls his shoulders, cracking his knuckles, that wild grin sharpening into something more dangerous.

Hiro exhales, setting his drink down with slow finality.

And as they step toward you—slow, dangerous, like wolves closing in—one thing is clear.

This night just became a battlefield.