The Salaryman came to find Ben after a dozen corporate ninjas had failed at their job.
The job was a senior vp of Yokijinsei conglomorate. The man had appeared to be an easy mark -- mid-fifties, quiet, living a risk-aversive life, small security team, the usual defensive protocols. The ninjas were an amped-up team cloned in a black lab in Chernobyl, implanted and armed to the teeth. They went in on a tuesday night and disappeared. That's what ninjas are known for, but two days later, the vp was still alive and the ninjas' bodies washed-up onto the plastic shore of Yamamoto Harbor, a message broadcast to whomever needed to receive it.
Message received. This job required a different approach. Arrangements were made. The Salaryman was consulted.
Night time in Honshu district. Benkei was sitting outside a tea shop in the Hiroshima block, reading about the ninjas on the feeds, counting down the hours until he caught the hover out. The courtyard was sparsely furnished with tables and chairs