The rain was heavy as it fell to the floor as Logan looked on over the three new graves, though only two of them contained bodies. If and when the body was recovered, it would return here, but until if was then all that would be here was a marker. There was a lashing of rain on his back as the rain was caught by the wind, but he ignored it as the holy man left the area and left him standing there in the rain.

He was the only one to attend the ceremony, the last of the family that any of them had, yet truly a part of neither. He shook his head thinking they were in good company, and that they had died as they had lived and he ran his hand over the cold, smooth marble headstones that marked their final presence in this place.

Shiro Yoshida. Sunfire, killed in battle with Sinister and the Nasty Boys, a sword shoved through his gut and killing him instantly. A former X-Man and head of the Clan Yashida, Sunfire had been an ally and friend.

Leyu Yoshida. Tsunami, sister of Shiro, member of the United Nations team Excalibur who had died defending Greece from a terrorist army, saving the life of many people, several of whom Logan knew and cared about. She had not always been a nice person to known, but she had given her life for others.

Elektra Natchios. The woman he loved, the woman he travelled around the world to find and be with. He had found her and she had saved his life and brought them together. She had given him so much in the short time that they had been together. He could barely believe that they had been together a few short months, and now she was gone.

At the last one he stopped for a more than a moment and knelt down, looking at the name he had carved in the stone himself and thinking that she had died for him, to save him from the evil that had been the Destroyer. It would have corrupted him and there would have been no choice but to hunt him down and he would have died, as would a lot of other people he called friend.

Using her own soul to shield him, Elektra had given herself freely so that he could live and that was the depth of their love. That was how much he had meant to her, and how much she had meant to him in return. He would have died to save her, but there had been nothing he could do and he'd lost her again and this time there was no coming back. The Chaste were gone, the Hand were gone, the people who could revive her and their magics lost to the mists of time.

He was the champion and now leader of the Clan Yashida and the last of the Chaste - titles he had been given, that had been thrust upon him because he fell in love. Everyone he loved seemed to die on him, he'd lost so many. Except Heather, but she was different. She'd not loved him back in the way that he had loved her and maybe that was what had kept her alive.

The rain was getting heavier and heavier and Logan thought back to the first time he had been here, just after they had buried Mariko. It had been raining then, too. He looked over to her graveside, where she was laid next to her brother Kenuchio, the Silver Samurai. There was so much death, so much suffering at the moment. He had spoken with the X-Men, letting them know he was still alive and he had learnt of recent events, and the tragedy that had beset the Omega team, who had lost Rogue and he would be discreetly stopping by the mansion his way to Canada.

He needed to get away from it all, to think and figure out what to do next. He'd never really had to do that before, but then again he wasn't the same man as he had been. He knew who he was, who he had been. He had responsibilities to the Clan, the Chaste, the X-Men. He sighed. He never wanted any of it, but now he had it anyway and it was a sense of duty.

No, it was more than that. They were family in everything but name. That was what kept him from walking away from it all and forgetting it all. A tear rolled down his cheek as he realised how much he missed them. He wished Yuriko and Amiko were here, but they had gone away and Logan really needed to see them, to have some familiar faces about him. However, he was still a realist and he turned and went back inside the ancestral home of the Clan Yashida and decided to have a drink to their memory and then he would see what he needed to do to keep the house and the business in order.

Maybe he could sell the business as a going concern or something. Maybe Warren would take it off his hands or something, but as he entered the room he could feel that there was something wrong and he tasted the air as two masked men entered the room. They weren't ninja's but they were trained fighters, he could see that from their stances. He really wasn't in the mood for this and the claws shot out of his wrists, the skin tearing as the bone shards loosed themselves and the wounds closed instantly, his healing factor fixing the damage, but whoever had sent these two had trained them well, and as he struck they moved, keeping just out of reach of the claws, and preventing their swift executions.

Logan then blocked against their use of weapons - a steel bat and a morningstar. These were not the average attackers, as he soon found out because they were savage yet direct with their assaults, but they didn't connect properly more than once, allowing his healing factor to do it's job and he went back no the attack, swiftly disarming them, and they backed away. Whoever had trained them didn't know everything, that he'd learnt a lot more than he had previously been able to show them, but they were keeping up with his fighting style anyway. It was a little frustrating until Logan realised his heart wasn't in this fight, that other things were on his mind instead and his eyes narrowed.

The two thugs noticed a change in him, that there was something more dangerous than they had anticipated in here as they began to sweat a little harder, their breathing became shallower and their hearts began to beat a little faster.

Logan smiled, his teeth being bared and then he moved and the thugs reacted but it was not enough and soon they lay on the floor, using their last moments of live to watch the blood pool beneath them. He took a cigar out of his pocket and lit it up, watching the two men die, waiting for them to leave this plane of existence.

He wanted to see who had sent them, to find out who they were after. Was it Wolverine they wanted or the Clan Yashdia? They were of the Japanese organised crime syndicate, without a doubt. The question was which Japanese organised crime syndicate - Yakuza or Jigoku.

He knew that the Yakuza has sent the assassin known as the Puma to kill Shiro and send Logan a message. He'd been defeated by Leyu, but they had never found out why the Yakuza had wanted him. Perhaps if they wanted a piece of him, then he was more than ready to give it to them. The last time he had waged war on the Yakuza, he had taken one day to demolish the network that the Shingen had spent years setting up.

However the Jigoku were more of an interesting proposition, and had grown in recent years, according to the X-Men. They had taken them on, defeating their head assassin Vargas, and killing their leader Marcus Tsung. However, as was always the way, someone would have risen to fill the ranks. Perhaps they were striking at him to send a message to the X-Men.

As he blew smoke in to the damp air, he went over their still warm corpses but he found no indication of who they were, if the Yakuza or Jigoku had hired him or any of them things he would have liked to find. In honesty he had never expected to, but it was worth the effort at any rate.

However there was a scent to them that wasn't one in the immediate area. His nostrils flared as he breathed in deeply, letting the scent linger in his nose and remembering the taste. He would find it's owner and then the two of them would have a chat. He sighed, thinking he'd better nip this in the bud now before he left the country.

He wasn't going to let this stand.

He scoured the city, hunting for the prey that had dared attack him, and at each and every turn he did what he could to send out a message to the masters of the criminals. He started out by going to all the old haunts he knew of, waiting and listening until the information started to come through. To many he was simply another gaijin, and would be none the wiser to what they were saying.

They were wrong and he knew every word that was being spoken, but he knew when to react and when not to react and he gathered the information and then went to work - striking at both Yakuza and Jigoku operations and he simply didn't care who they were. He was doing this from duty and the need to cut loose as well, allowing the pent up rage and grief to be expunged from his soul.

He went back to the Yashida ancestral home and loaded with weapons of as many kinds as he could lay his hands on. It was not the normal kind of operation that he went on, and he knew his claws wouldn't get the job done by themselves, not with the bigger prizes he had his eyes on. This was going to be a war, and with his full memories restored he knew how to use each and every one of these weapons as well as he knew how to use his claws.

He started first with an extortion racket that had been operating in the murkier parts of Tokyo, attacking small stores who refused to pay the protection and homage to the Yakuza. They had been surprised to see Logan standing in the doorway of one of the stores blocking their path and demanded that he show them the proper respect. He let two of them live, but they would be marked for the rest of their lives and they would never threaten anyone again.

There were several rackets like that going on in the city and he stopped the lot of them, all with the same relative ease, not even having to break a sweat, but each time sending the same message - Wolverine is coming for you, making certain that they knew it was Wolverine the man, not Wolverine of the Clan Yashida.

Next he moved over to the prostitution and made sure that both the hookers and their patrons knew that while he was at large there would be no business tonight. His sheer presence, claws from his wrists, the wild hair and the animal ferocity that exuded from him scared them enough to ensure that there was no need for killing.

However it didn't stop some of the masters of these women and children from trying it on. Those who did ended up gutted and dying, those who didn't ended up scared out of business, especially those who pimped children. They ended up with less than they had started out with - literally.

Again the message went out - Wolverine is coming for you.

Then he started working on the sweat shops, ensuring the illegal labour trades, were dismantled and releasing the slaves. He had no hesitation in killing the people who ran these operations, for the conditions in which they made these people live in were intolerable and they knew what they were doing.

The streets ran red with blood and the word soon went around as to what was going on and that such operations were under threat. Whoever was running this had made an enemy, and if you were smart you didn't make people like Wolverine your enemy and now they were starting to take note so it was time to up the ante and go on to the big things.

Illegal gambling dens were a lucrative source of income for the gangs, where the clients could indulge their fantasies. Except tonight those fantasises came complete with a mutant samurai with a temper and a point to prove and now the real shooting started, as the gangs began to fight back, for all the good it would do them.

Bullets flew as Logan came at them, claws flashing and his healing factor racing as his body repaired the wounds that were inflicted on it. To their credit they did the best that they could, but they were not good enough to stop him and they either fled or died - it was their choice and this was not a night for them to play the martyr.

Finally he went on to the big number itself - the drug trade.

Logan had done everything he could to stamp out the problems with the trafficking in Madripoor, but the big problem had always come from Japan. The last time he had gone against a cartel was when they were using monkey brains for the ingredients in the latest craze and that was something he had a personal interest in seeing ruined and he crushed it then.

Tonight he would go after the main prizes in town. Opium, heroin, cocaine. the deals going down were worth lots of money Logan made sure that both drugs and cash went up in smoke and that nobody would profit. He knew he was only one man and he couldn't stop the drug trade itself but he could ruin deals, destroy shipments and burn the money that was being made, as well as ensuring that certain officials who looked the other way paid for their lapses in judgement.

Given time, he would have liked to go in and shut down these operations for good, but that wasn't the plan. The plan was to get the attention of whoever was gunning for him and ensure they knew that this was not the fight they had anticipated and he knew that one final, major strike was needed. Outside of Tokyo there was an opium field and a factory that processed the poppies and produced the drugs. It hadn't been shut down due to politics and money, the former the underworld had more than a significant influence on due to the latter. Nobody had struck at it for fear of reprisals - until tonight.

Logan collected what he needed from the Yashida mansion, loaded it in to the back of a van and went out in to the night, stopping by the field first, and he drove in to the field, setting down oil across the crops, running at the guards who got in his way and making sure that they knew what was about to go down and so they could alert their masters.

As he drove through the field, he was followed by other vehicles, bullets firing at him, but it was dark and he wasn't as burdened with the need for care as the people following him were. Suddenly car started to stall as he realised one shot had caught the tank, but he didn't mind and he leapt from the van and as he watched the vehicles getting closer, he took out a cigar and lit a match.

He watched it burn a moment and then he tossed it to the ground, as the petrol took light and ignited the oil in turn and in moments the field was ablaze. The fumes would take care of any reinforcements from the opposition, and he knew that the people in the area would get so high on the smoke and gas being produced he could just walk in to the factory and warehouses and send them all to hell.

Gun fire blazed as he entered the building but he was able to dodge with ease and keep running as bullets whipped by him. They hadn't been prepared for something like this and it was going to cost them, as he slashed at mechanisms and consoles and anything he could lay his claws on to do as much damage as possible and cause some kind of malfunctions and stop whatever was going on for a long time, before he went to the warehouses.

Drugs filled the room and Logan was stunned to see just how much they had in here, and he looked at the cigar he still had in his mouth and shook his head, before taking it out of his mouth and stabbing it in to one of the plastic pouches that held the drug. The plastic melted and the cigar set the drug alight inside and it began to burn, setting of a domino effect on the rest of the place and Logan went from warehouse to warehouse doing what he had just done.

This was one factory that was going to be out of commission a very long time and no doubt there would be some very powerful enemies made from the nights work as he walked back to the mansion, the fires burning behind him and lighting the night. He had worked hard today and there was much left to do.

The underworld would be in disarray and whoever had come after him earlier would have to save face now by coming after him. He would be ready and he smiled, thinking that they should just bring it on.

He had a plane to catch tomorrow.