This is me with Japan’s most dangerous Yakuza gang boss. Have you ever met someone like that? For the next 24 hours, he would reveal the darkest secrets of Japan’s criminal underworld. Our journey began in Osaka’s Shanghai district, known as the worst slum in Japan. After World War II, many workers flooded this area looking for jobs, which led to overcrowding and homelessness that persists today. This slum is deeply connected to the Yakuza. Before meeting the former high-ranking boss who promised to show me everything, I explored the slum with a friend who was once homeless himself.
Within minutes, we witnessed a fight among homeless people, which we managed to calm down. My friend shared his harsh experiences on the street, including being forced into difficult situations just to survive. He told me how after losing his dignity, he turned into a “crazy playboy,” trying to reclaim his manhood by dating thousands of women. Despite these hardships, we shared food and drinks with the homeless, discovering that many were good people trapped by unfortunate circumstances.
The Yakuza have long exploited people here through loan sharking and controlling day labor employment, taking heavy cuts from workers and pushing them further into poverty. One man recalled a lost love from 44 years ago, showing how even in the harshest conditions, personal stories remain deeply human.
As Japan’s government cracked down on Yakuza activities, the syndicates fractured into smaller groups, but they remain powerful. Leaving Osaka, I traveled to Fukuoka to meet the former Yakuza boss, who openly talked about his 15 years in the gang. He was involved in various crimes—from female entertainment to loan sharking and corrupt dealings with politicians. He explained that although many want to leave the Yakuza life, loyalty, family, and financial ties make it nearly impossible.
We visited an active Yakuza headquarters—an imposing, heavily guarded building with fences, cameras, and blocked windows. Despite laws against gangs, the Yakuza operate openly because even police need permission to enter their territory. We noticed we were being watched the entire time, and some gang members politely warned us to be careful. This glimpse into Japan’s criminal underworld revealed a dangerous, complex world hidden in plain sight.
We decided to change our plans and made an appointment at one of the biggest hostess bars in Fukuoka, which I was told was like an adult Disneyland. But since we still had a few hours to spare, we first went to a traditional restaurant. My son was eager to share more about his criminal past while we waited. The food at this place was definitely an acquired taste—mostly guts like intestines and stomach, which might not be for everyone. Despite that, it turned out surprisingly delicious. During the meal, I asked him about his time in prison and how he coped with the boredom. He told me about creative ways inmates passed time, like using sharp chopsticks to poke holes in their shoes and then inserting small, round objects made by shaving down plastic erasers or toothbrushes—something that resembled silicone. Some got so carried away that their creations looked like corns.
After finishing our meal, we headed toward the hostess bar but got a call from another former Yakuza boss who owned a nearby park. His stories of the criminal world were even wilder. For example, scars on his body were from Yakuza fights and parties, and he explained how territorial disputes among Yakuza groups still cause conflict in places like Fukuoka. I also learned about the tradition of cutting off a pinky finger as an apology for serious mistakes, something my son had done out of guilt after lying to his boss, whom he deeply respected. Despite the loss, he adapted and became skilled in other areas.
Finally, we arrived at the hostess bar, a dazzling place full of flowers and lights. I asked how a hostess becomes number one, and the answer was simple: it’s all about selling your heart—being genuine and connecting with as many customers as possible. The girls joked that they keep their legs closed until a man’s wallet opens, emphasizing professionalism mixed with charm. I also asked whether they preferred Japanese or foreign customers, and it turned out foreigners often get more attention.
To get closer to one of the girls, who spoke no English, I used Google Translate since I spoke some Japanese. She told me she had been in Japan for only a week but hoped to stay longer if she found work or a partner. Overall, it was a fascinating day learning about the unique culture, criminal pasts, and the lively nightlife of Fukuoka.
