Author's Note: I wrote this without playing a single Yakuza or Resident Evil game. I hope that watching a few of the Resident Evil movies by Paul Thomas Anderson counts as sufficient research

One night in Kamurocho in the year 20XX, Kiryu Kazuma was hanging out in the club Vincent with his good "buddy" Goro Majima having drinks at the bar and playing pool.

"Hey Kiryu-chan," Majima suddenly piped up before his turn with the billiards. "I'm hungry."

"Nani (what)."

"I said, Kiryu-Chan, I'm hungry. Me Majima. Me hunger. For food."

"So go to the bar and get some. Why are you asking me?" Kiryu asked, his face blank.

"Nah, bar food's too pricey. The booze's bloatin' my tab enough as it is already. Why don't ya mosey over ta Smile Burger an' get me the King Smile with fries?" Majima smacked his lips, patted his bare belly in anticipation.

Kiryu paused and thought.

"Can't you go yourself, Majima?"

"No. It's my turn next an' the anticipation is killin' me as is. I can't hold the Goro-Goro-Goro-Pokey-Poke no more!"

"…why are you making me get Smile Burger if you're not even paying for your food? Can't you just ask me to buy you something at the bar?" Kiryu shook his head.

"Well, now that I thought about burgers, anythin' else is just gonna disappoint me and make me wonder what mighta been. Ah, just saying the word burger's makin' me more peckish. Make mine a Double, now."

"You're just using this as an excuse to cheat the score, aren't you?" Kiryu accused, and a quick glance at the scoreboard for the game of pool showed that the former Yakuza was indeed in the business of eclipses with his score. Majima almost froze up at Kiryu's unusual, uncharacteristic perceptiveness but the Mad Dog was no stranger to wiggling out of a tight jam.

"Uh… totally not! Now… you gonna get me my burger or am I gonna have to skin you for some homemade Mad Dog Patties?" Majima threatened. "Either way, I'm gonna eat like a damn emperor."

Kiryu sighed. Majima always seemed to set these things up so Kiryu would end up indulging his silly desires in some way, but the last thing he wanted right now even less than playing food delivery boy was to indulge Majima's bizarre fascination with engaging him in bouts of physical contest. "Fine. I'll get you your food."

"Ah, I knew you had it in you, Kiryu-chan! Now, chop chop! Make it snappy, like that queer blue porcupine on the Nintendos!" Majima motioned as Kiryu walked to the door. As soon as Kiryu was gone, Majima looked around to scope out the rest of Vincent.

"None of you saw anything… swear on this!" Majima shouted to the employees and other patrons as he reached into his pockets and started showering money all about. The bribe was a success, and soon everyone was too preoccupied with collecting the cash to pay much heed to the one-eyed Mad Dog. As such, Majima tossed his pool cue aside and crab walked over the people to the scoreboard. Humming a hit pop song as he worked, Majima commenced a few numerical adjustments.

It was no trouble navigating a route to the nearest Smile Burger. Kiryu had known the bustling district of Kamurocho all his life, the neon-soaked streets as familiar to him as his own reflection in the mirror. Kamurocho was not the safest part of Tokyo, but two-bit street gangs and low-level Yakuza were of little concern to the Dragon of Dojima. But still, even as he walked through the crowds, Kiryu felt the almost subliminal yet continually building feeling of dread. He did not fear being robbed or attacked, but regardless, the oddest occurrences always seemed to coalesce with his vicinity whenever he was in the neighborhood.

It never seemed he could even round a corner without being pulled into some stranger's sordid affair.

And not just in Tokyo either, for that matter. No matter where he went in the world, Kiryu seemed to encounter this particular phenomenon. Just what was it about him that drew Kiryu towards the lives and troubles of others as some transformative, mediative factor? And for that matter, why did he keep agreeing to help no matter how ridiculous his encounters got? Oh, the things Kiryu had seen and done… decades of strange memories accumulated. Memories that had stayed with him even longer than even some of the work he had in his time as a yakuza, memories that could fill an entire factory's worth of postcards.

That feeling of tense anticipation continued to build as Kiryu neared the Smile Burger.

Right on cue, from the street opposite to the burger joint, Kiryu spotted an all-too familiar sight in the streets of Kamurocho. A lone woman, surrounded and menaced by a gang of ne'er do-well thugs. Kiryu shook his head. He'd been beating up these kinds of lowlifes for years. He thought all the would-be gangs of muggers and rapists would have caught on by now.

Nevertheless, duty called. He was Kiryu Kazuma, and these were the sort of pressing matters that he was obligated to resolve.

As Kiryu crossed the street, he noticed that the scene was off. Instead of the usual Japanese woman, the inperiled lady was a foreigner. And make that plural – it was two ladies! Two Caucasian women of average height, with slim builds. Brunette, both of them. The one on the left wore a red leather jacket and slim blue jean, her hair tied back in a medium-length ponytail. The one on the left was less conservatively-dressed, in a blue tube-top that left her shoulders exposed and a black miniskirt that left a lot of leg to show – whatever leg of hers wasn't covered up by those knee-high brown boots. The latter's wardrobe baffled Kiryu, for these Kamurocho nights could get chilly.

Ah, gaijin, who was to know what was going through their minds? Perhaps the water overseas did things to them.

"Hey honey bunnies, you lost?" The leader goon, barely a grade above nondescript in his appearance, asked the two foreign women.

"Why don't ya grab a bite with us?" The biggest, burliest of the goons proposed. As he cracked his knuckles, he continued. "I never had me some Western cuisine."

Kiryu sighed, as he got ready to interject. As usual, he expected the usual huffing and puffing from the scum before Kiryu reiterated his threat, followed by the usual few minutes of carnage that always ended badly for them.

But right before Kiryu opened his mouth, the unexpected happened.

"You hungry?" The woman in red asked. She spoke in English, her voice sounding like the loud-mouthed American movie heroes Kiryu sometimes saw on the TV's movie channel. "Then how about a knuckle sandwich! Topped with… peanut butter!"

She drove her knee into the burly goon's crotch. As he howled in pain, she grabbed him by his hair and held his head down as she punched him in the mouth over and over.

While she worked the big guy over, her friend the woman in the blue top was on the rest of the thugs like a vengeful spirit. Kiryu watched, totally astonished, as she took them all down in quick but painful succession. Whoever the woman in blue was, she definitely had some training.

"Here, have a Jill sandwich." The woman in blue spoke, in Japanese, to the leader goon who she had flipped and ensnared with her legs wrapped around his neck. Presumably named Jill, she then tightened her legs to choke him for a bit, before snapping the leader goon's neck.

"Uh-oh, I better not have stumbled into some CIA business again." Kiryu thought to himself, as he watched the burly goon let loose of flow of blood and teeth – probably his entire set – tumble out of his mouth. The woman in red slammed his face on bloody pile on the ground, and then stomped on his head for good measure.

The woman in red dusted herself off, before Jill tapped her on the shoulder. Jill pointed directly at Kiryu, who was just standing there awkwardly and staring ever since they had stolen his thunder from him. For a while, the women and Kiryu were just staring at each other. They stared at him, very suspicious. They probably thought he was another Japanese man with devious intentions, Kiryu guessed.

Kiryu didn't meet foreigners very often. When he did, it was usually for the aim of beating them up in an underground fighting arena, and Kiryu wasn't sure if the same etiquette applied should be applied to random white women in the street.

"Um… hello." Kiryu finally broke the odd tension. A polite greeting usually was the right etiquette when meeting strangers… surely that had to translate even across borders and oceans?

"Got something on your mind, pal? Don't try any funny business… I bet you got a good idea what we can do." Jill warned him, her tone decidedly hostile in spite of Kiryu's attempt at friendliness.

"Nothing of the sort. You know, your Japanese seems pretty good so I hope what I say next is understandable." Kiryu decided to try and explain.

"The line of work we're in requires some international… understandings." Jill then motioned for him to get on with it.

"I thought you two were in trouble and I decided to intervene. But it seems you can take care of yourself."

"Oh. I guess we can." Claire piped in, looking at the moaning wreckage that had once been the mobile forms of their attempted violators.

"Well…the thought's what counts. Not many in this world can care enough to help a stranger in need." Jill mumbled some appreciation. "C'mon, Claire, let's get outta here."

"Not so fast, Jill." Claire looked Kiryu over as she spoke to Claire in English, almost like a starving beggar lusting for food behind a restaurant front window. "For a guy his age… he sure is pretty lean and muscular. And he clearly can handle himself, and he looks knows like he knows his way 'round here. Way better than we can."

(I wish I could understand English. What are they saying?) Kiryu thought. (Ah, whatever. My time is fleeting and my work here is done. Now, why was I out here again?)

Kiryu tried to remember what had brought him out onto the streets of Kamurocho to begin with, it had something to do with Majima's lunatic demands that much he could recall. Still deep in thought, he was shocked when Jill tapped him on the shoulder.

"What the?" Kiryu spun around, breaking into a defensive pose on instinct. He managed to calm and control his motions when he saw that it was just the woman, but already his arm had been raised and readied for action.

"Ooh, don't be so quick on the draw there, cowboy!" Jill reprimanded him as she took a step back. "I just wanted to ask if you'd be interested in helping us a bit more."

"Help you? What could you possibly need me to help you with? If you're lost, I can just escort you to the nearest tourist agency." Kiryu shrugged.

"No, no… this is the kind of job that requires a specialist. And you look pretty special, big boy." Claire chimed in as she slapped one of Kiryu's biceps in jest. Kiryu winced at the impact that sent a wave of pain coursing through him as she did. It wasn't pain on the level of say, a bullet in the ribs, but it still smarted a fair bit. These women were definitely a lot stronger than they looked, and Kiryu dreaded to imagine what they must've gone through to hone themselves to such a degree.

(I don't think I like where this is going…) Kiryu thought, before he spoke, almost shouting. "You… you won't require me to take my clothes off, will you?"

"What." Was Claire could muster in reply.

"Uh… no. Though…" Jill looked Kiryu over, licking her top lip. "No that it wouldn't be unhelpful."

Claire glared at her companion, exasperated.

"But seriously, mister, all we need for you to do i" Before Jill could finish, she was suddenly cut off by the sound of someone leaping off the rooftops above them and landing right in between the women and Kiryu. Someone big, someone strong, was all Kiryu could make out as a cloud of dust exploded before him.

Kiryu coughed, and as his eyes managed to clear and the dust cloud dissipated, Kiryu saw standing before him a tall dark-haired white man dressed like he was going for safari in a war zone, in a crater than had once been the flat ground before him. The most muscular white man he had ever seen. His muscles must've been constantly threatening to explode through his body armor, with how tightly clung even the bulky gear was. The man then stomped up to Kiryu, every step of his shaking the Earth like Godzilla.

"Hey buddy, I saw you gawkin' at my lil sis from up there. You wanna take the Little Red Clairevette for a ride, huh?" The man was up in his face, hurling words in English that Kiryu had no understanding of.

"Nani? (What?)"

"I'll take that as a yes. WELL TOO BAD. YOU CANT FUCK HER BUT YOU CAN FUCK OFF." Without warning, the white man sucker-punched Kiryu with an uppercut. Kiryu's eyes widened in both pain and surprise as he found himself flying into the air, and down again. This was the strongest, most painful punch he had ever taken. This white man, whoever he was, had strength on a whole other level.

The man was then on him, not giving him a chance to recover as he drove more powerful fists and kicks into Kiryu all over.

"YOU CANT EVEN FIGHT BACK! WHAT KINDA MAN ARE YOU? I KNOW WHAT. NOT A MAN FOR HER!"

So this is what it felt like, Kiryu thought with some irony on his mind, as he reflected on the countless unremarkable goons he'd done the same too.

"YOUR INFERIOR GENES ARE NO WORTHY MATCH FOR THE REDFIELD LINEAGE." The man grabbed Kiryu by his legs and slammed him into a wall.

As he dropped Kiryu, the man then ran to the streets outside. He picked a taxicab, with its screaming cabbie still inside, off from the ground and then stormed back to where Kiryu was catching his breath and trying to struggle up.

"You don't deserve to breath the same air as a Redfield, you pathetic weakling!" The man lifted the taxicab above his head, ready to slam it down on Kiryu.

"What the hell is happening?" Kiryu wondered. And he then he remembered why he was out here to begin with and thought. (Geez, what a stupid reason to die. I hope I come back as a ghost, just so I can haunt you forever, Majima.)

"Chris, stop!" Jill and Claire ran in front of the man, presumably Chris as they were calling him. "This man is our friend!"

"What." Chris stopped in his tracks, looked at Kiryu, then at the women, then at Kiryu again. "Fine."

Chris crumbled the taxi he was holding into a tiny ball like it was nothing, with the driver still inside, like it was nothing. Kiryu marveled, horrified, as he witnessed this improbable feat of strength.

Just who the hell was this mysterious foreign man?

Chris turned to Claire.

"I thought I told you ladies to stay in the hotel room while I took care of Leon." More English. More words that Kiryu couldn't understand a lick of. "These are mean streets, you know! I got lost, you got lost, and it took hours until I found you! What if something had happened to you in those hours, Claire? Then I would've been the last of the Redfield Lineage. In a world where there exists no worthy woman for me! Your every reckless act endangers our bloodline!"

For some reason, Kiryu noticed, that last sense he said made the woman named Jill roll her eyes.

"I can protect myself, big bro. And we were about to get this kind mister to help us before you butted in like some crazed gorilla." Claire turned to Kiryu as he managed to finally get back on his feet, but damn was he still winded. She then spoke to him in Japanese. "Hey mister, are you okay? And uh… what's your name?"

"Kiryu… Kiryu Kazuma." Kiryu reached into his pocket, fumbled around until he found it. "And don't worry, I'll be fine."

Kiryu pulled out an energy drink bottle, a bottle of Staminan Spark. He drank it, and though Chris had shattered his bones and caused bleeding both external and internal, the liquid coursed through his veins like a rejuvenating rapid river. Once he finished the drink, it was like he'd never been injured to begin with.

"Damn it, Claire. Why are you speakin' Japanese?" Chris shouted at his sister.

"Uh, cause we're in Japan. We kinda need to speak it to communicate." Claire shrugged.

"THAT IS IRRELEVANT! You are a Redfield, Claire! You were not born speaking Japanese! You were born speaking American! All other languages are unworthy of the Redfield tongue! Let Jill do all the talking, for she is not a Redfield and dishonors not her lineage by speaking it." Chris ordered.

As such, Jill translated for the two as Chris began to order Kiryu around.

"I'm Redfield. Chris Redfield. My little sister and my very good friend Jill vouch for ya, but I still don't like the look of ya. If you're really a friend of the Redfield Lineage, you're gonna prove it."

Chris reached into his pocket and pulled out a Polaroid photograph. He shoved into directly into Kiryu's chest. The photograph fell onto the ground, and Kiryu bent to pick it up.

It had fallen face-down, and Kiryu flipped it over to see what was on the photograph.

Another foreigner. A blonde man, much slimmer than Chris, with a lean and muscular build closer in tune with Kiryu's.

"I need you to find this man. His name is Leon S. Kennedy. I have it on good intel that he's been hiding out in Kamurocho. It is imperative for the future of the world that you find him for me!" Chris demanded.

"I don't kill, if that's what you're asking. And I won't bring him back to you just so you can kill him." Kiryu shook his head.

"Don't be such a pussy worry-wart, the only thing you'll be killing is his virginity."

"Nani. (what.)" Kiryu tried to process what he just heard. Virginity? Killing virginity? Oh no, had he stumbled into some crazy pervert drama again?

"Why you gawking, huh? I gave you an order! You don't need to know anymore than that, lackey. Now get out! You will find no Kennedys just standing around!" Chris barked.

"What if I say no? I got things to d" Before Kiryu could finish, Chris was up on him like greased lightning. Real up close. Kiryu felt an iron vise-like grip around his throat before he even realized Chris was lifting him up and squeezing.

"Don't kill him, Chris!" Claire yelled.

"I must, Claire. I must. For he knows, and if he knows, he may try to warn Leon for a quick buck like the dirty flip-flopping stoolie he is!" Chris argued, before turning his attention back to Kiryu.

"Say no and I'll give you a message you can pass along to my old buddy Wesker. In hell." Chris warned him in a guttural growl while Jill continued translating. "The Redfield lineage must be protected and I will not let anyone stand in the way of my mission."

Kiryu knew that as much as he wished to avoid spending another moment with these insane foreigners, he knew he wanted to die even less. There were people who depended on him.

Like Haruka.

There wasn't anything he wouldn't do for her. And Kiryu guessed this would have to be another example.

"Fine. I'll help." Kiryu choked out, and upon hearing Jill's translation, Chris dropped him.

As Kiryu stumbled up, Chris clapped Jill on the back without any hint of gentleness.

"Jill, my oldest and dearest very good friend, I'm gonna need you to keep an eye on him. Make sure he don't slack off or pull no runners. Mankind needs the Redfield Lineage more than air or water! It must be preserved at all costs!"

"Yes…. Sir." Jill sighed as Chris started poking her to accentuate his points. With his eyes up there, he wasn't looking where he was poking. He'd have noticed that his fingers were landing on her breasts, but he didn't seem to notice or care.

"Uh, Chris, you're…" Claire tapped her brother on the shoulder, deciding it was probably best to alert him to what he was doing. Jill seemed to be in a trance from what was happening.

"Quiet, Claire. You may be my sister and Jill may be my very good friend, my very goodest, but I am the man here. Not just any man, I am a Redfield man. I am authority! You listen to me!" Every poke just seemed to fill her eyes with more longing for something she could never have, but to Chris, he might as well have been an empty water bottle.

Kiryu sighed, shook his head, and walked off into the night in search of this Leon S. Kennedy.

With her task in mind, Jill followed as Chris poked her one last time. Chris finally realized what he had been touching as Jill backed away from him, and unlike most men who got to touch Jill Valentine's breasts for like a whole two minutes, Chris Redfield looked like he was about to throw up and then sterilize his hands with cleansing fire for good measure.

It was the last thing Kiryu wanted, an association with whatever this twisted Redfield Lineage was. All the years of fighting Yakuza, of being dragged into bizarre situations just by walking down the street, and already these warped foreigners were skyrocketing to the top of the list of the worst he had ever been through.

It wasn't like he had plans tonight either. He'd promised Haruka he'd go do karaoke with her after his business with Majima concluded, but now that looks like it was going to have to wait.

Haruka was going to be disappointed, perhaps even saddened, and that wasn't good. Kiryu had tasted the Redfield's strength, a strength that reminded him of some of his deadliest enemies over the years, and Kiryu wasn't keen on being on the receiving end of Redfield's power again so quickly but even so he wondered if he might just be able to pay back that American lunatic for making him stand up Haruka.

Yeah, that sure would be something. Then Kiryu, while relishing in the thought of kicking that gaijin's ass, remembered what a single Redfield punch felt like.

Kiryu sighed.

Fantasizing was easy. Doing it for real was going be a whole other story.

It was gonna be one long night. But little did Kiryu, and all other persona dramatis involved in this sordid tale of yakuza and biohazards, know just how long.

To be continued...