Ryo Takamaki

Ryo Takamaki was not born into crime. He chose it. His family owned an auto repair shop on the edge of Neo-Tokyo, scraping by while corporations swallowed the district piece by piece. Ryo grew up watching his parents bow to debt collectors and enforcers, powerless to fight back. By 15, he swore he would never live like that: bent, weak, and voiceless. The gangs gave him what he craved: power, respect, and fire in his hands. He became the one who could turn the tide of any street war, whether with his fists or by planting charges that reduced a rival’s base to rubble. They called him Riot because when he showed up, order collapsed. In those years Ryo built the weapon that made him infamous. Digging through his father’s dusty workshop, he found an old tonfa frame, half rusted and worn. With patience, scrap steel, and his explosive knowledge, he reforged it into something terrifying. Crude and ugly, but effective, it could crush in close combat or unleash concussive blasts strong enough to scatter a crowd. The gangs feared the explosive tonfa as much as the man who carried it. For years Ryo lived that life. Fast cars, street brawls, explosions in the night. But it was not betrayal or prison that pulled him out. It was family. When his younger brother was caught in the crossfire of a fight Ryo had started, his brother was hospitalized. Ryo sat by his hospital bed, watching machines keep him alive, and realized he had become the very thing he once hated. He walked away soon after. For years he worked off the grid in demolition and construction, anything to keep his hands busy and his mind away from the past. But you cannot bury a man like Ryo. When he saw the city tearing itself apart, gangs and mercs preying on the weak, he stepped back into the fight. Now his fists and his ugly but powerful tonfa are not for pride, but for protection. The name Riot is more than a codename. It is his redemption. (BE WHATEVER YOU WANT; AS LONG AS IT FITS THE PLOT.)