In Japan, Shannon studied martial arts at a school frequented by a lot of American soldiers.  The Yakuza prohibited the teaching of it to westerners.  So he felt privileged, downright blessed, to be included in this speakeasy dojo.  The man teaching the classes was himself, a half Japanese, half American, named Hiromoto, whose father had been a soldier, and whose mother had been the daughter of a Yakuza boss.  Hiromoto commanded great respect for someone his size and stature.  Shannon would have rather slammed his penis in a car door than bring up the delicate topic of his master's affiliation.  As he sensed the rest of the class felt as well.  

Hiromoto's full body tattoo of a puffer fish swallowing the tail of a distraught dragon was answer enough besides.  This was al...

Please subscribe to keep reading.