Prologue
In feudal there existed a society based on the rule of the warrior class. The Shogun, who was appointed as the supreme military ruler, was the true ruler of .
The Shogun controlled all of the Daimyo who each controlled their own territories. Each Daimyo had retainers under them which were called Samurai. This amounted to each Daimyo having his own army to carryout his commands and to be constant guardians of his fiefdom. This rule was often violent and harsh. Any indiscretion was punishable by death. Anything thought to be disrespectful resulted in punishment by death, and punishment was doled out at the end of a Samurai’s sword. In the case of the Samurai any slight to his superiors would result in loss of land or pay. A severe indiscretion would result in the Samurai being ordered to commit Seppuku, or ritual suicide. This was done by the Samurai kneeling and disemboweling himself with his Wakazashi or short sword, at which time a second Samurai would behead him with a single stroke of his long sword or Katana. To be chosen as a second was a great honor, as Seppuku was the honorable way to die for a Samurai, and was a show of great loyalty and discipline.
The Samurai were held in the highest esteem by Japanese society. They were both admired and feared at the same time. They were thought of as royalty. Most commoners could only hope to become a Samurai. To become a Samurai their entire life was spent in training. A true Samurai spent his life trying to master BUSHIDO or the . He not only trained to master his weapons, but a true Samurai also wrote Haiku or poetry, or endeavored in some other form of art. To be a Samurai meant being well balanced in the martial and non martial ways. A Samurai was an aristocrat. They were educated. They were superior to all others and that was always reinforced to the commoner. ultimate honor, then the next highest honor was to be the Hatamoto. A Hatamoto, or standard bearer, was one of the greatest honors a Samurai could ever hope to achieve. He held the responsibility of maintaining the highest standards set forth by the Shogun. The Hatamoto was the most trusted of all Samurai. Only the Hatamoto was allowed to wear his swords in the presence of the Shogun. Any other Samurai who dared bring a sword into the Shogun’s presence would be put to death. To be Hatamoto was to be the best!
By 1900 the Samurai way of life was disbanded by the Japanese Government. The Government could take away the Warrior Rule, but not the Warrior Code. The Japanese people to this day respect the Samurai way. To master the sword is to be the ultimate accomplishment. To master the sword is to have great honor. The sword was, and is, considered to be the soul of the Samurai.
Today one can find Martial Arts Schools all over the world. Many schools are nothing more than commercial avenues to make money. These schools lack the true martial spirit. They hand out belts often just ensure that the student will keep coming back. This leads to poor quality martial artist and leads to the overall damage to the reputation of martial arts as a whole. Sport martial arts have nothing to do with the real purpose of Bushido. There are no referees in battle.
Bushido, or warrior way, never cared for competition for competition’s sake. A true warrior trains for the battle where life and death are in the balance. Where fear and no control of one’s self means death. Where through training the warrior loses regard for winning or losing, but is only interested in being the best he can be. That means completing his mission or task with no regard to self. If death comes in fulfilling one’s obligation, then the death was honorable.
However, if one is lucky enough, he may find a school which teaches the martial ways. These Schools are often found in a home or small school, and are taught by a martial arts instructor that is not well known. The Dojo, or training hall, may be in some backyard or garage and not in some strip mall with trophies lined up on the walls. Often the training may seem brutal, because one cannot train in truly deadly techniques without some form of controlled realism. These schools weed out the weekend warrior who wants to learn to jump around and kick, and pay his $100 a month for a black belt. The student who remains in these schools gains much more than a belt around their waist. When these students are attacked they dispose of their attacker in an efficient and brutal manner, for they were taught not to waste time on fear or self doubt.
Yes, there are a few Samurai still out there. These modern day warriors are just as loyal to there brothers as were the Samurai of old to their Daimyo and Shogun. And if one of these modern day Samurai ever earns the title of Hatamoto, then do not threaten those next to him, because no warrior is as fierce as the Hatamoto.
Republic, Ks.
11:50 PM
The night was black with only a sliver of the moon occasionally peeking through the overcast sky. If not for the light emanating from the back office of the house there would be almost total darkness. It was a pleasant spring night with temperature around 45 degrees. It was very quiet if not for the occasional dog bark or vehicle driving by in the distance. A perfect night for a killing thought the biker gang assassin as he slowly crept around the corner of the house approaching the rear window. There the light illuminated a small area just outside the window. In Jerry “Hack” ’s mind things couldn’t be better. No houses close by with nosy neighbors. No apparent security system on the property except for the motion detector light on the front porch of the home. No dogs to alert of an intruder on the property. Yes it was perfect. Almost, like they were inviting the Hack to kill them. After all, he got his name “Hack” for his aptitude for killing anyone whom the Coyotes Biker Gang had deemed deserving and then hacking them up into little pieces for easy disposal and difficult identification.
Hack, a greasy 6’3” and 325 pounds of plague to mankind, edged his hulking mass into what he considered a good position. From his vantage point he had a perfect target. He raised the Beretta 9mm pistol, complete with sound suppressor, until he had the desired sight picture on his target, the back of District Attorney Richard J. Matthews. Matthews was seated at his desk with his back to the window. Hack smiled to himself and was filled with anticipation of the coming moment. Now all he had to do was pull the trigger and Matthews would be dead. Killing his wife and two children would be a cake walk once Matthews was out of the way. Then the whole family would be cut into smaller manageable pieces and scattered over three to four counties.
Being Chief enforcer for the Coyotes was a title Hack relished with perverted pride. It was his duty to carry out the club’s more violent task, and he was good at it. Very Good!
The moment was now! Hack gently began to squeeze the trigger…
