The Immortal Dragon used to be the baddest of the bad in the Yakuza. Rumor has it he once put down ten gang factions in a single night single-handedly. But now he’s washed his hands of that life and now lives the most honest career a man can have—he’s a househusband.
The Gangsta Talk:
You can take the man outta the Yakuza, but you can’t take the Yakuza outta the man, the age-old saying goes. Shopping for groceries is a far cry from robbing a bank, but the Immortal Dragon talks as though the two are one and the same. He approaches every situation with a Yakuza mindset, with his dialect and mannerisms carrying over from those days, and the juxtaposition is outright hilarious. Whenever he’s cast into a new scenario, it gets you wondering what crime he’s gonna interpret it as.
The Quick Kill:
The lot of the humor stems from the artwork, which has that same knack as Grand Blue Dreaming for darkened, detailed scary faces. It pairs up beautifully with the Immortal Dragon’s jargon, but so much emphasis is put on the visuals over dialogue that pages turn like a strong gale’s whipped up. It always caught me off guard when five minutes seemed to have passed but I had blown through half a volume.
The Drug Bust:
Well laid out and hilariously written as chapters are, they have the bad habit of petering out. Everything leading up to the last page is comedy gold, but then things always end abruptly, as though the manga was having such a good time with its storyboards that it forgot about the page limit and broke out the cleaver for an amputation.
This manga joins the ranks of Kaguya-sama and the aforementioned Grand Blue Dreaming with how much it made me guffaw. Chapters have the bad habit of leading up to a finishing punchline only to trip on their own shoelaces and roll downhill, but its panels are neatly and hilariously drawn, the Immortal Dragon’s wife is killer, and it gets you curious as to how a man used to the Yakuza life will react to mundane society and how that mundane society will react to an ex-Yakuza. Its entire premise is built on a brand of humor I can get behind.