The corners of his mouth suddenly lifted in a smile, with a hint of excitement: "I mean, they're screwed."
The moment he finished, a burst of noise came from downstairs.
"We found them, they're upstairs! Right here!"
"Hurry, grab them!"
"To offend our Okamoto Family is a dead end. Make them pay, avenge our martial uncle!"
Downstairs the voices kept coming; it sounded like a lot of people. The hotel staff turned pale one by one. As soon as they saw the emblem on those samurai outfits, they knew it was people from the underground Okamoto Family.
Who the hell would dare stop them?
A group of people charged up the stairs, every one of them fierce and aggressive, brandishing samurai swords, crazed out of their minds.
The owner of that teahouse had said Okamoto Shimizu lost, and lost ugly, so he chose to apologize with seppuku. That was something the Okamoto Family couldn't swallow.
