Acid rain and heavy smog from over-industrialization drowned the megalopolis, like the raging monsoons that made settlements near the coast no longer possible. It, like other megalopolises around the world, struggled to hold a special identity to call its own; extensive globalist objectives of corporate powers worked towards the eventual homogenization of human culture into one governed by consumerism. With a human population as uncountable as the stars, though unnatural scientific advancements in food and medicine, the default named cityscape known KAMI-5 housed them in its solemn care from atop the highest skyscraper and airships to the settlements deep within the Earth's crust. The disease of humanity was virtually the only species non-extinct as entire ecosystems were annihilated under unsustainable actions of those who could not be Kami, guardians of the Earth.
Bred in a vats, and gradually augmented through the development stages, men and women were constructed by various, warring Japanese mega-corporations, meant as a counter-measure against aggression from local and international threats. One of these vat breeds started his life brainwashed as one of these henchmen, conditioned mentally and physically through gruesome, virtual simulations to infiltrate, hack, investigate, interrogate, and kill. It was training bereft of true style, of spirit, classically attributed to dojos of antiquity; it instead surrendered to the cold of objective mathematical calculations to maximize effectiveness and raw killing power. He excelled at the top of his class, gaining the attention of his superiors and granting him quick access into the field. He was a quick study, but it was accompanied closely by an inquisitive nature. Experience on the field slowly unfavorably changed his perception towards his work.
Eventually, this street samurai defected, taking on the name Yori, 'public servant', finding a much more suitable career as a local cop, to uphold the law and protect citizens beyond the narrow scope of his father corporation PaxCorp, one of the psuedo-shogunates that had true power over puppet governments. Gone were the days of a glorious Emperor to pave the way to prosperity. It was but a pipe dream conjured by obsoleted mysticism, replaced by lies of democracy and capitalism. Yori chose his actions carefully with the care of a surgeon to mend the broken spirit of the land, maintaining a balance through the honorable code of the KAMI-5 Police, who kept neutral by refusing sponsorships by any company.
Now was different. Cops have been killed in the line of duty, but now the killings were more brazen and cocky. Signs of weapon use from all sorts of mega-corperations lead the Police Force to believe in the worst; that either their position of neutrality was no longer accepted by the present powers, or that a new power was seeking to make a power play for the underground. Yori recognized PaxCorp weapon use most of all, including microwave guns that liquefied even the most heavily armored enemies and other hellish weapons of devious fae-like inspiration, such as the metal disk launcher. He made a solemn vow to kill as many of those scumbags as possible with his black metal alloy PaxCorp katana blade, regulation firearms, anti-personnel grenades, and his cybernetic upgrades. In a simple jacket bearing the police crest covering his metal riot armor, he rode on his black motorcycle into the grim acidic fog in search of his vengeance.
The rest of his memories blurred as he tried frantically to understand what happened to him on his last night in KAMI-5. There was a sharp sensation of intense heat enveloping him, amplified by his metal body parts, followed by a crash into water --
fresh water. The sensation of both feeling truly clean and drowning at the same time confused his senses to the point that he had no idea which way was even up. His information implants were in the process of resolving a time calibration malfunction, of all things, though Yori had no further time to think as a sudden wave pushed him directly to a shore line.
"Up with you metal man!"
Yori's instinct overrode his confusion quickly, though his senses still could not handle even the contrast that the air he breathed was like mana from heaven; the 'metal man' coughed up blackish tar-like spit as he rolled back and kicked upward into a quick standing recovery, facing this mysterious stranger, face to face. When he saw that the man already drew his blade, he drew his own, black as the night.
"I am Yori of the K-5 Police." His voice was also rustic like the strangers, but each Japanese word was bastardized by English modernization, taking part in that accent. "You will stand down, or you will force me to use whatever force necessary to neutralize you."
Analyzing... Uneven ground. Matching known fighting stances to internal DB. Projecting probabilistic fight paths...