This is a story from back in the day, around the middle of the Showa era, when hardcore yakuza were just casually everywhere on the streets.

I was working at a company near the bottom of the ladder, under an affiliate of a certain syndicate.

The kind of company that had 'so-and-so Syndicate' in its name.

I was in an apprentice-like position there, surrounded by the boss, the captain, and older senior guys. The one teaching me the ropes was a terrifying thirty-year-old senior brother named Kanzaki.

As for why I joined, long story short: back in high school I was in a biker gang acting like a tough guy, and I didn't have the brains to get a real job anywhere normal, so I had no choice but to take a senior guy's referral and work here.

Normally my days were spent cleaning the office, running errands, or answering the phone when everyone else was out—just simple tasks.

The main difference from a normal company, though, was how insanely terrifying things got if you couldn't pull your weight or if you screwed up.

Ever read a yakuza manga? There's usually an office with a heavy glass ashtray sitting on a desk... Well, those are mostly used for bashing whoever fucked up.

And even if you got beaten, you must never make excuses... No matter how unreasonable it was, your superiors were always right in that world.

"You're slow on the draw, so I'm gonna give you orders for a while. Just do exactly what I tell you, got it?"

The guy saying that to me was Kanzaki-san, who was training me.

He looked intimidating, but he gave clear, precise instructions on what needed to be done.

Of course, there was a good reason for that.

If I messed up, joint responsibility meant Kanzaki-san would be punished too.

"A subordinate's mistake is the boss's mistake," so to be honest, both of us were terrified.

Our main duties were collecting money from debtors, collecting protection money from local businesses, and various other things.

Duties varied depending on the office, but ours wasn't that big, so our monthly quota wasn't horribly heavy.

Around the time I got the hang of the cleaning and errands, Kanzaki-san said, "Hey, you're coming into the field with me starting today."

Inside, I was thrilled. I was finally going to do real work.

Our job for the day was to visit delinquent clients and collect their payments.

By the way, this was back when extortionate interest rates—like ten percent every five or ten days—were the norm...

For people who couldn't pay, their debts ballooned to impossible amounts.

Even so, we had to collect by any means necessary.

I don't know about other places, but our company assigned clients to specific handlers. Kanzaki-san had his clients, and the other senior guys had theirs.

If you answered the phone when a client called, or if you brought someone in yourself, that person became your client.

Or if the boss or captain brought someone in and said, "Lend money to this guy," whoever handled the transaction got that client.

...Which meant if you failed to collect money from your clients every month, a brutal punishment was waiting for you...

Today, two of Kanzaki-san's clients were late on payments, so we were going out to collect.

The first was Tanaka-san (not his real name, a male in his 50s), living in a room in a rundown apartment building.

We rang the doorbell, but there was no answer...

Me: "Are they... not home?"

Kanzaki-san: "Not a chance... Hold on."

With that, he went and borrowed the key from the landlord. (Things were pretty loose back then.)

When he unlocked and opened the door, the room was what people nowadays would call a hoarder's trash house.

Kanzaki-san walked right in with his shoes on and called to me, "Hey, over here. Look at this."

I looked, and amidst the piles of trash, an average-built man was passed out, blatantly wasted.

Without warning, Kanzaki-san grabbed Tanaka-san by the ear and bellowed, "Hey! You bastard!! Are you fucking playing games with me?!"

Tanaka-san snapped awake, instantly prostrated himself right there, and said, "I'm sorry! I don't have any money!!"

--those were the very first words out of his mouth.

"Huh?! Then why the hell are you passed out drunk in the middle of the day, you bastard?!!!"

His roar echoed through the entire apartment building.

He seemed like someone at the absolute end of the line from alcoholism.

Apparently, he was an old guy stuck in a vicious cycle—he'd occasionally do day-labor gigs, only to spend all his earnings on alcohol that same day

.

Naturally, his debt to us kept compounding daily. If he could just pay the interest, he could squeak by for the month, but...

Kanzaki-san: "How much money do you have on you right now?"

Tanaka-san: "...925 yen."

Kanzaki-san: "...Get your ass to this job site right now! I'll give you two days, so earn every cent like your life depends on it!" he said, handing him a map.

Tanaka-san: "R-Right now...?"

Kanzaki-san: "Damn right! Your payment was due yesterday! If you can't come up with the money here...

W h a t d o y o u t h i n k h a p p e n s . . . ?"

The air suddenly turned ice-cold... I didn't even know what would happen myself.

Tanaka-san screamed, "U-Understood!!!" and bolted out of the room.

"Tch, give me a break... Next."

Overwhelmed by the intensity of seeing a real collection in action for the first time, I couldn't do anything but stand there frozen the entire time.

Still, I thought having a net worth of 925 yen in your fifties was pretty extreme.

The second case was Kondo-san (not her real name, a female in her 80s).

We rang her apartment doorbell, but no answer...

Kanzaki-san: "She's legitimately not home. I know where she went. Let's go."

Me: "Uh, ah, okay."

Where we went was a fair-sized pachinko parlor.

Kanzaki-san said, "This is it. Wait outside," and went inside.

A little while later, Kanzaki-san came back dragging a frail old lady who looked like you could lift her with one hand,

holding her by the scruff of her neck.

Me: "Wait... Is this sweet old lady really...?"

Kanzaki-san: "This is Kondo."

Ehhhh?! She looked so completely ordinary that you'd never imagine she was in debt to a loan shark!

She had such a gentle, mild manner that I screamed that in my head.

Kondo: "Huh...? Kanzaki-san? Oh, is today payment day??"

Kanzaki-san: "Granny, it was yesterday."

He spoke in a calm tone that was completely different from how he talked to Tanaka-san.

Kondo-san: "My goodness, I'm so sorry. Here you go."

--she said, pulling out an envelope.

Kanzaki-san: "...Thanks for your business."

After checking the contents, Kanzaki-san let Kondo-san go.

Thank goodness... Kondo-san had actually prepared the money... I breathed a sigh of relief.

Kanzaki-san: "At this rate, the old lady's gonna have to live until she's 120..."

Me: "...!!!?? (How much money did she borrow to be playing pachinko so casually...?)"

I had only accompanied him on two collections today, but I understood that while lending at high rates was a problem, borrowing at high rates was a problem too.

On the way back, since I also served as Kanzaki-san's driver, I was behind the wheel.

By the way, in this line of work, you were never allowed to make sudden moves—no sudden turns, no sudden acceleration.

You couldn't let your guard down for a single second while driving. An accident was a cardinal sin worthy of death...

When we turned onto a road with good visibility, Kanzaki-san puffed on a cigarette and spoke up.

"Hey, you ever borrowed money before?"

I was only twenty-two and had never taken out a loan, so I answered, "No, never."

Kanzaki-san said, "I see. Make damn sure you never borrow from guys like us,"

in a deep, menacing voice, but I knew... this was his way of giving kind advice.

There was something I just had to ask, so I turned to Kanzaki-san.

Me: "By the way... what happens to Tanaka-san if he can't get the money in two days...?"

Kanzaki-san: "What do you mean 'what happens'...? We sell him."

--he answered as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Me: "Ah... You mean as labor...?"

Kanzaki-san: "Nah, that depends on the buyer. Frankly it's up to whoever buys him... but Tanaka's in his fifties, right?"

Kanzaki-san: "Well, he'll probably have some kind of work for thirty years or so."

Me: "Thirty years... Is full payoff really that far off...?"

Kanzaki-san: "It'd be a problem for us if they paid it off completely. His total debt isn't actually that huge, so we pressure him to go work off the interest. If even that fails, we sell him for the amount of his debt."

Kanzaki-san: "There are guys who buy people like him... but he'd probably be happier paying us interest and surviving even one day longer... I went to check on a guy we sold once in the past... that was messed up beyond belief."

Me: "H-Huh... I see......"

I was too scared to ask anything more.

A few months later, Tanaka-san's name disappeared from the collection list.

Me: "Kanzaki-san... Is Tanaka-san... don't tell me..."

Kanzaki-san: "Yeah, exactly that."

Kanzaki-san: "We lost a client. Earnings are down, so we're going out to prospect today."

Me: "Y... Yes, sir."

I managed to get out of that life after a few years, but in the meantime, the number of people who vanished from that list reached double digits.

...I wonder where those people are now, and what's become of them...