My Blood Is Someone Else’s

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My Blood Is Someone Else’s
Author: Yasutaka Tsutsui
Category: Fiction
Publisher: Shinchosha Publishing Co., Ltd.
Tokyo, 1979
www.shinchosha.co.jp/
Translations: German
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Country Languages Publisher Title ISBN Translator Affiliate Link
Germany German be.bra verlag Mein Blut ist das Blut eines anderen 978-3861249023 Otto Putz
Buy now: amazon.co.jp

Synopsis

Inspired by Dashiell Hammet's Red Harvest, this outrageous novel about corruption and fighting in a small town is one of the finest examples of the author's experiments in pulp fiction.

Kinukawa is a young businessman at a construction company in a small town in rural Japan. He is absolutely normal but for one rare ailment: when he gets angry, he loses all self-awareness, shouts the Italian word for "excrement," and goes on a rampage. Worried that his disorder may one day cause him to kill someone, Kinukawa tries to live as low-key a life as possible and not get stressed out.

One night at a local hostess club, however, his life changes. Kinkukawa notices some yakuza harassing one of the women working at the bar. He snaps and beats the men to a pulp. Later, another yakuza, a witness to the scene and a member of a rival gang, approaches Kinukawa with a proposal: will he work for their gang as a bodyguard? Kinukawa refuses at first, but when he hears that the lady he defended at the club has been kidnapped by the other gang, he feels compelled to try to rescue her, and he agrees to the terms.

As it turns out, the two gangs are at war, with both jostling for influence among the police, the governor, and the director of the local tax bureau. The war is raging in the construction company Kinukawa works for, too: disputes among the upper management erupt daily as the president, manager of general affairs, and others are bribed and bought, one after the other. In the end, because of one man's self-serving, greedy agenda, the fighting intensifies until the entire town is swept up in the war. Guns fire, grenades fly, and fires burn in the streets . . .