Diane Joplin spent the afternoon in her hotel room surfing the Japanese sector of cyberspace. The hotel’s in-house Mitsubishi console did a fairly good job of translating the Kanji on the fly. She pored through so many news stories and features related to the Yakuza and to Kenzo Yamamoto that she now considered herself somewhat of an expert on the topic. Several hours later, eyes tired from the constant stream of words scrolling down the screen and the void in her stomach screaming for attention, she ordered room service.

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