Maxim tugged at his shirt that was attached to his chest and back, and walked into a canopy with a huge neon sign hanging from the doorway in the pouring rain, and under the shed was a black wooden door without handles, with a covered metal hole in it, about one meter six or seven above the ground.

He knocked on the door, and then looked out at the colorful streets, the puddles on the ground reflected the light of the neon billboards, and Maxim looked at it for a moment, then looked down at the leather shoes on his feet, which had dimmed a lot.

"It's a Gucci!" He cursed under his breath. "In order to come to this damn place, I also specially prepared a haode outfit, which looks ruined!"

At this moment, there was a rustling sound from behind the door, and the metal lid was opened, revealing a vigilant eye from behind, staring at Maxim for a long time, and then slamming it back again.

Maxim sighed helplessly, and soon he noticed a hand-painted sign hanging in an inconspicuous place next to the door, with a few striking red English words written on a white background - Japanese only, and a few lines of Japanese underneath, which presumably meant the same thing.

"It's a goddamn weather!" Maxim cursed again, and felt a little uneasy in his heart, wondering if he had gone to the wrong place.

You must know that these warning signs can be seen everywhere on the streets of Tokyo, and this country is not your average xenophobia.

Maxim is an American who is begging for a living in Japan, originally from Minnesota, and a graduate of Cornell University, a prestigious private university in the United States. Then an alumnus offered him a job in Japan, and he came to Japan.

It's just that the place where he works is in Kobe, which is still a little far from Tokyo, and this time his alumni and boss called him to Tokyo, saying that he had something important to discuss, and he got on the Shinkansen and rushed to Tokyo without stopping.

This is Shibuya, Tokyo, full of bright lights and school girls standing on the streets waiting for help, and a few boys and girls in fancy clothes walking by from time to time, Maxim knows that this is a fan of Japan's native rock culture, known as "visual kei".

In later generations, this bizarre dress was introduced to China, setting off a wave called "non-mainstream" among some teenagers, but some of the original things were lost, leaving only heavy makeup and extremely exaggerated hairstyles.

Kabukicho was founded with the intention of establishing a cultural center that would concentrate traditional Japanese cabaret theaters, as the name "Kabukicho" describes. In traditional Japanese songs and dances, geisha wear a face as white as paper powder and sick lips as red as they turn their stomachs, wear traditional kimonos, and hold a folding fan and babble about something they don't understand. These things were unbearable for Maxim, but some elderly Japanese customers were still happy to invite him to see them, which made Maxim feel like life was worse than death.

But now Kabukicho is a very different place than it was originally intended, and frankly, it has become a massive red-light district, 20 blocks in size, full of dark alleys and dazzling neon signs, and it haunts millions of customers every night. It's a entertainment center, and Japanese men who get off work can't forget to have a few drinks here, and countless striptease nightclubs, bars, massage parlors, ** and brothels are crowded with people in front of their doors.

It's been four years since I came to Japan, but Maxim still doesn't speak a full word of Japanese except English. Fortunately, one of his colleagues had a Japanese man who spoke good English, so he was able to communicate normally.

Maxim came to Japan in '85, when the yen was appreciating and countless dollars were flowing into the Japanese market, and at that time the American institutions in Japan were in urgent need of a large number of talents, and Maxim just graduated from university and came to Japan to become a trader in a small hedge fund.

Hedge funds like the one he works for are plentiful in Japan, and when there was no Nikkei before, there were very few hedging tools, and they didn't make much profit. But now it is much better, thanks to the super strength of the Japanese stock market and the sharp appreciation of the yen, the assets of their fund have exceeded 50 million dollars.

After a while, until Maxim felt a little chill on his body and was about to find a place to drink a few glasses of sake, a voice came from behind the doorway again, and a turquoise eye appeared in his field of vision. The eye winked at Maxim, the door closed, followed by the sound of several locks being opened one after another, and when the door opened, a strong-limbed figure appeared in front of him, none other than his boss Jim Watson.

Jim's dress was simple and neat, with dark black casual pants and shiny leather shoes, a white shirt with sleeves pulled up, revealing his hairy arms. He must have arrived as soon as he got off work, and there were still wrinkles in his shirt and tie.

He was followed by a Japanese man in sunglasses, who looked very short next to two tall white men, but Maxim's heart tightened when he noticed a dragon with long teeth and claws tattooed on his open chest.

In Japan, people with tattoos should not be provoked, and that was the first lesson he learned when he came to Japan. Especially those who have tattoos all over their bodies, if they encounter one, it is best to turn around and leave. Maxim's location is Kobe, a place close to Osaka, which is home to the Yamaguchi-gumi, the largest violent society in all of Japan.

Speaking of the famous Yamaguchi-gumi, it can be said that everyone knows about it, and everyone knows it. In the 80s, when the Yamaguchi-gumi were in their heyday, after two battles of Osaka and the Yamaichi Confrontation, the Yamaguchi-gumi extended their hands and feet to all walks of life in Japan, and even Japan's largest conglomerates had to succumb to the coercion of violent gangs.

Noticing the look of fear in Maxim's eyes, Jim smug patted the Japanese man next to him on the shoulder and explained in broken Japanese, "My friend. ”

Hearing Jim's explanation, the man's frown furrowed and his nose snorted softly, which was regarded as a greeting.

Walking through the stairs covered with thick carpets, when he reached a step in Zuihou, a wave of heat rushed in his face, and Maxim stopped, clasped his hands with some uneasiness, and began to observe the strange scene in front of him.

It was a long room, decorated about the size of a subway car, twenty meters long, with seats on either side and erected metal pillars with pull rings on top. Women in office clothes and carrying briefcases stood below, swaying from side to side clutching the pull tabs, pretending to be on the subway.

Surrounding the metal pillars were young girls, dressed in various school uniforms and carrying backpacks, chattering as if no one was around, as if discussing a beautiful dress or a new cosmetic product.

Sitting in the seats were two dozen men, most of them middle-aged. They stared at the women with an indescribable meaning in their eyes. Maxim understands the look in a man's eyes, which is naked desire.

Soon, a man got up from his seat and walked up to an "office lady" in work clothes, and without saying a word, he stretched out one hand and roamed over the woman's body, the other hand wrapped around the woman's thin waist.

"This is sexual harassment!" Maxim frowned, and swallowed the words that came to his lips raw. I saw that this woman endured quietly, and her face was full of expressions of wanting to refuse and welcome.

"This is a sexual harassment club, and all this you see is a show!" Jim, who was on the side, saw the look on Maxim's face and explained lightly. "Let's go inside, there's nothing to see here!"

"Nothing to see?" Maxim, who was following Jim, muttered under his breath. All this has exceeded his cognition, and in his more than 20 years of life, he has never seen such a scene, which is enough to open his eyes.

"It's better to be in Tokyo!" He remembered his small office in Kobe, and he sighed in his heart.

Passing through the crowd of actors, they came to a bar where two bikini-clad ladies bowed in unison, "Welcome!" Maxim reflexively bowed in return, but his eyes were fixed on the deep groove on the hostess's chest.

The bar was small, but luxurious, with a variety of drinks at the back of the bar, and a waiter-like man was mixing a drink, and he tossed the shaker high into the air, then quickly moved it behind him, and then tossed it into the air, making it a dazzling sight.

On the opposite side of the bar, there were six tables, all filled with people, many of whom were staring at the bartender, and Maxim was a little surprised by this simple fancy mixology.

The room was a little dark, and not far away, there was a small dance floor, with a DJ with headphones playing loud electronic music, and many scantily clad girls on the dance floor shaking their heads frantically.

It's a bit far from the dance floor, though, so it's not as noisy when it comes here. Jim led Maxim to a table furthest from the bar, where two men were seated, one of them a tall white man and the other a diminutive Japanese.

"You must be Jim's right-hand man!" The tall man stood up, a professional smile on his face. He has messy blond hair, bright eyes, and slightly yellowish teeth, which are the result of excessive tobacco and alcohol.

What caught Maxim's attention was that he was wearing a silk shirt with no branding, apparently custom-made. And he has a strong accent, not like an American accent, but with a somewhat British accent.

"I guess you already know what you're here for, right?" The short Japanese also shook Maxim's hand and said impatiently.

"For what purpose?" Maxim was stunned for a moment, and asked rhetorically a little ignorantly.

"Of course, it's short Japan and loot Tokyo!" Jim snorted and said ominously. His words immediately made the British and Japanese on the opposite side hahadaxiao.

"Short Japan? Sacking Tokyo? Maxim had a shocked look on his face, and he patted his ear, for fear that he had misheard! (The Ransacking of Tokyo is a book about hedge fund operations, and some of the passages are borrowed here.) But their main battle was against Bahrain's Nick Leeson and Li Zekai's PCCW and would not be the focus of my book. zuihou, special thanks to the book friend Brother Fang for the reward! ）

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