Sensō-ji was Tokyo's oldest temple and a hugely popular tourist attraction. Nearly thirty million visitors came here every year to take photos, especially around New Year's Day, when worshippers arrived in an endless stream.
Today, a long security cordon had been set up. The Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department had deployed a large number of personnel to maintain order and security. Outside, reporters and citizens surged together like a raging tide.
The streets and roads around Sensō-ji had all been cleared and sealed off. Black sedans stretched like a winding dragon before the gates of the ancient temple. Many important figures in black suits, their faces solemn, stepped out of the cars. They had all come to pay their respects.
Luxury cars filled the broad streets. Besides friends and relatives of the Yashida Family, elites and celebrities from every field had arrived. Even the Governor of Tokyo had come in person, presenting wreaths and condolence banners. It was said that the Prime Minister had taken time out of his busy schedule to call Shingen Yashida with his condolences and was preparing to award a medal in recognition of Ichiro Yashida's outstanding achievements.
For a man's death to cause such a sensation was enough to prove just how prominent and powerful the Yashida Family was in this country.
Although eighty percent of Japanese people believed in Shinto, they generally held Buddhist funerals after death. Ichiro Yashida's body had been placed in the central hall of Sensō-ji, where chanting drifted continuously from the main temple.
Logan stepped out of a black sedan. He had already booked his flight, but Ichiro Yashida's sudden death had disrupted his plans. Both emotionally and practically, he had to wait until the funeral was over before leaving.
Tycoons and dignitaries from the business and political worlds arrived one