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To say Kuroshi does not expect a VIP's welcome aboard the Castle is an understatement. Still, one can hope, and one can extend a little grace towards the gatekeepers.
The gatekeepers seem less inclined to return the favor as he and Kei-chan exit the helicopter and approach, and Kei-chan unobtrusively slips a hand into his pocket as the guards close ranks in front of them. Kuroshi, for his part, simply clears his throat and waits for the guards to stand down. They do not.
"Sorry, gentlemen," one of the guards calls. He doesn't sound sorry. "Some shit hit the fan a couple weeks ago. No first-timers 'til we hear different from the owner."
"Well." Kuroshi takes another step and watches the men close in tighter. "Then I suppose there's no problem with us coming aboard. Open the gate and stand aside, if you will."
That one guard, apparently the ringleader, scowls and steps foward to meet them. "You don't hear so good, do ya?" The man is wearing a Kijin Clan crest. The others are, as well.
"I heard you quite well." Kuroshi watches as the guards approach. Kei-chan's hand shifts in his pocket, so subtly that anyone who wasn't watching for the movement would miss it. "Perhaps I should introduce myself properly. My name is—"
The guards, it seems, aren't interested in proper introductions.
Pity.
"As I was saying," Kuroshi chuckles as he sheathes his dagger and watches the guards roll around groaning on the deck, "My name is Yusuke Kuroshi, once otherwise known as Homare Nishitani the Second."
"Nishitani the—" The ringleader of the guards sits up and groans. "Fuck."
"And as such," Kuroshi goes on, "I am the rightful owner of this ship. The gate, if you please."
The guards look at each other. Kei-chan crouches down and gives the ringleader a friendly clap on the shoulder, never mind the stun gun in his other hand.
"I'd do what Yu-chan says if I were you," he beams. "Pretty sure this battery's still got plenty of juice in it."
The ringleader eyes the stun gun, then one of his comrades—face-down and still gently twitching—then motions to the guard nearest the control panel. That one staggers upright and hits a switch, and the heavy helipad gate groans open.
"There. Did this really need to be so difficult?" Kuroshi leans down and pats the ringleader's other shoulder. "I'll ask you to remove your crests, by the way. The Kijin Clan is no more. And do spread the word among your fellows; I'll allow you all a brief grace period before I begin enforcing your new dress co—"
Kuroshi happens to glance up at the scene on the other side of the gate then, and all of his words and coherent thoughts depart for a moment. He stands rooted to the spot, perhaps on some level attempting to will all of this away.
"…good Lord," he finally wheezes as it sinks in.
He's heard the rumors, of course. A floating theme park of debauchery, they say. Every deadly sin, in abundance, ripe for the picking. The rumors did not prepare him for the sight of it. The glitz and gaudiness he remembers from the Bubble have nothing on what his successor has done to the Castle. Everything is gold and glitter and neon and—
"…fuckin' hell," Kei-chan echoes next to him. "That… that sure is a giant bondage cat."
Eventually, Kuroshi and Kei-chan shake off the initial disgust and make their way deeper into this den of iniquity. There are gambling halls. There's a cabaret club. There are a number of bars and fine dining venues. There's even a high-end boutique and tailor, of all the damn things. And then… well, then there's the Coliseum.
Kei-chan, for his part, is exploring below decks, reacquainting himself with the technical workings of the ship. It's been a long time, and it's likely that their… that Kuroshi's successor made some significant upgrades to that side of the ship as well.
Although his first inclination was to have a bulldozer flown in so that he might scrape all of this nonsense off into the sea… the more he sees, the more he wonders if perhaps his successor was onto something after all. While all of the most important of the VIPs are, if they're wise, taking a break from the Castle at the moment, there are apparently quite a few regular visitors in very high places in respectable circles. This, Kuroshi thinks, could be handy in his line of work, and he's reaching into his pocket for his phone to tell Kei-chan as much when he feels it buzz.
Kuroshi chuckles softly as he answers it. "Were your ears burning, love?"
"I think he was payin' more attention to us than we thought," Kei-chan says. "The security setup is fuckin' insane. Video, audio, the works. If he left any damn blind spots on deck I sure can't find 'em. You could follow one dude from the helipad to the Coliseum to the inside of his cabin n' not lose him for a second. It's—heh, I see ya up there. But yeah. And that ain't all."
"Oh?" Kuroshi peers over the railing at whatever mayhem is currently taking place in the Coliseum below. "Go on."
"So they confiscate phones at the helipad, right?" Kuroshi can practically feel Kei-chan vibrating with excitement. "They ain't just holdin' 'em. They're scrapin' em! We got contact lists, we got browser history, passwords, e-mail access—you are not gonna believe who all's—we're sittin' on a goddamn gold mine here, babe! I… I can't believe I'm sayin' this, but… maybe we oughta think twice about shuttin' it down."
Kuroshi watches from afar as one VIP who might perhaps be a little bolder or a little thicker in the skull than his peers tucks a very large bill into his hostess's cleavage… with his teeth. "The thought had occurred to me as well. Why don't you join me and we'll discuss it over dinner and a show?" He sits back in his seat, on the highest balcony of the golden castle, and pats the arm of the identical luxurious chair that's been brought in alongside his own. "I've saved you the best seat in the house."