A life luxurious
The club is on the second floor of a small building where the constant whir and clang of a busy pachinko parlor on the ground floor can be heard upstairs. Pachinko is the Japanese national obsession, a slot machine that sends tiny chrome balls through a vertical maze, like a pinball machine set on end but smaller in size. The relentless chatter of hundreds of moving pachinko balls is softened by the club's sound system, which plays the theme from The Godfather, performed on traditional Japanese instruments, koto (Japanese banjo) and wood flute.
A squat older man sits toward the back of the room at a table surrounded by bowing young associates, who respond to every order and request he makes with an unvarying hail of "Hai! Hai!" ("Yes! Yes!"). The older man is flanked by two women—one in a short black cocktail dress, the other in a schoolgirl's pleated plaid skirt and white blouse. Both women cover their mouths and giggle at the man's every gruff word.
A young man in a shiny sharkskin suit enters the room, his head bowed. The other men immediately take notice and stop talking. The young man approaches the older man's table. He does not dare lift his eyes. Without a word he formally presents an artfully wrapped object to the older man. The package is no bigger than a small piece of candy, but the young man sets it down on the table ceremoniously with both hands. His left pinky is heavily bandaged. The old man stares at the offering, then stares at the young man's damaged hand. The moment is tense until the older man nods, his face relaxing a bit, and orders one of his minions to remove the offering without opening it. Everyone in the room knows what it is, the severed last joint of the young man's finger. The gift is an act of appeasement. Several men in the room have also lost parts of their pinkies. It is one of the telltale signs of VICEROY.
