Cinta Sang Lycan

It was amazing book. By far one of my favorites! If you're looking for an amazing book with a wonderful storyline, you picked a great book! xoxo Truly ate a blessed an gifted writer!!!!!!!

Written by Sho Fumimura (aka Buronson) and illustrated by Ryoichi Ikegami, Sanctuary is a captivating epic that not only affirms manga as a medium but redefines and transcends it. In short, it deserves the title of masterpiece.

Hojo and Asami are driven to transform Japan, aiming to shake its very foundations. Sharing a dark past, both have committed to the path they embarked on together, striving to ascend the societal ranks to enact the necessary changes for a new Japan. One leads the life of a yakuza; the other immerses in politics. This manga chronicles the journey of these two extraordinary men as they strategize and maneuver their way to the top of their respective domains, and it's breathtaking.

The narrative unfolds like a Takashi Miike or Takeshi Kitano film brought to life on paper. It's a political thriller, a yakuza crime drama; it's ambitious in every aspect. It's a rare gem, a mature manga. Mature because it portrays adults making realistic decisions amidst challenging circumstances. Mature through relatable traits and personalities in a world that feels familiar. Maturity doesn't mean swords severing limbs, nor aliens assaulting humans; it doesn't involve superpowers obliterating puppies. Maturity is addressing topics and themes realistically, meaning restraint and subtlety. Yes, there is violence and nudity in this manga, but they stem from adults with genuine motives, real conflicts, and authentic human reactions to actions. Every character in this story possesses a consistent personality and reason for their actions.

The plot twists and turns unpredictably as the two characters navigate their worlds, encountering obstacles and surprises, whether from political machinations or aggressive yakuza thugs. Hojo and Asami must continually devise ingenious solutions to increasingly difficult challenges, and their separate journeys often reflect each other, sometimes intertwining dramatically. Fumimura's saga is so profound it's mind-boggling. With numerous storylines and countless characters all scheming against each other, Sanctuary is addictive and compelling, lingering in your mind long after you've finished the last satisfying chapter.

The political issues highlighted in this manga can also intrigue non-Japanese readers. For instance, Americans understand that unless you're a Democrat or Republican, you have no chance at securing the White House. In the 21st century, we've witnessed seasoned Japanese Prime Ministers resigning one after another. The two main characters in Sanctuary aim to overthrow Japan's current system, where politics are dominated by old men who uphold a structure that prevents anyone under 40 from gaining real power, and even to reform the perpetually warring yakuza gangs. Their ambition matches the grandeur of everything else within these 105 chapters.

The writing quality rivals novelist James Clavell in handling a vast array of characters and conflicts. The artistry is a bold rebuke to mainstream manga plagued by cutesy elements and incessant Super Deformed faces ruining every chapter. Women in this manga are depicted realistically. Every setup has a payoff. Every chapter ends with you craving more.

Sanctuary is a refuge from mainstream manga. If you seek entertainment from a work that never underestimates you and demands you keep pace while tackling relevant topics and themes, then discover this manga, read it, and spread the word. Turns out, there’s a sanctuary out there for all of us.

Just reading the synopsis of Sanctuary manga sparked my interest immediately; as someone deeply fascinated by politics, discovering a political thriller in manga form was exhilarating. I thought this might be my gateway to exploring and understanding more about Japanese politics. I came across this manga because it was compared to Code Geass and recommended to fans of the latter. That alone elevated my expectations, and I was eager to dive into its 108 chapters, anticipating intricate political strategies and mind games. However, I couldn't have been more mistaken. To put it bluntly, Sanctuary is an abysmal piece of work.

The story follows Hojo and Asami, childhood friends and refugees from Cambodia, who arrive in Japan and lament the dullness of people's lives. They believe Japan is stagnant politically and that citizens need to be more engaged. Consequently, they scheme to revolutionize Japanese politics from within—Asami becomes a politician while Hojo turns into a yakuza boss, intending to control both legal and illegal spheres. Their stories initially run parallel before converging later. Even in this brief summary, numerous flaws become apparent.

Firstly, the protagonists, having spent years away from Japan, return and declare its populace incapable of living fulfilling lives. Their basis? Observing people commuting to work. No one appears happy during their morning commutes amidst traffic, but that doesn't equate to unhappiness overall. If happiness were determined solely by Monday mornings, few would ever qualify. It's absurd that they formed such conclusions based on superficial observations, especially since kids often think peculiar thoughts. Despite this shaky start, I pressed on, hoping for better.

Throughout the narrative, it's repeatedly stated that Japan's politics are dysfunctional without providing substantial evidence. The sole critique seems to be that existing politicians lack masculinity and courage. Politics, however, progresses slowly due to necessary procedures like drafting, presenting, voting, revising, and re-voting bills. Radical changes, such as altering the constitution—which Asami proposes almost immediately—aren't feasible overnight. Moreover, Japan boasts a stable GDP, positive international relations, and job growth, suggesting its political system functions well. Yet, Asami advocates for drastic changes, including transitioning to a presidential system—a move responsible for electing figures like Donald Trump. Clearly, the author demonstrates a shallow comprehension of Japanese politics.

Turning to Hojo's storyline, while marginally less dreadful than Asami's, it remains uninspired. Initially, Hojo's role was straightforward: finance Asami and handle unsavory tasks. However, the author unnecessarily complicated matters by introducing rival gang members, stronger factions, defectors, and even foreign criminals. Each subplot looped back on itself, rendering the entire arc redundant. Additionally, the portrayal of yakuza as disorganized contradicts their nature as organized crime syndicates. Hojo's eventual entry into politics served three purposes: legitimizing his business, aiding Asami, and pursuing a romantic relationship with a police officer. Unfortunately, he failed miserably, exposing his illicit activities and making himself appear foolish. His calculations regarding profitability post-legitimization also seem flawed, ignoring factors like taxes and operational constraints.

Character development fares no better. These characters rank among the worst I've encountered in manga. Every action elicited cringes due to sheer idiocy. Both protagonists are indistinguishable, possessing every conceivable virtue—intelligence, strength, good looks, righteousness, charisma, vision—with no discernible flaws. Their reasoning and plans come off as convoluted and ineffective. Side characters fare equally poorly, blindly following the protagonists without personal motivations or agency. Female characters suffer from egregious stereotyping, reduced to sexual objects catering to male desires regardless of context. Among all characters, only Isaoka exhibits some semblance of credibility, though his unlimited resources strain credulity.

On a positive note, the artwork stands out. The artist excels in detailed panel layouts, character designs, and environmental depictions. Two-page spreads effectively enhance dramatic moments, though occasionally overused due to the writer's penchant for contrived twists. Overall, the art remains Sanctuary's redeeming feature.

In conclusion, Sanctuary had potential but squandered it through poor execution and underdeveloped characters. The art quality kept me engaged despite the narrative shortcomings, though I primarily continued reading for its unintentional humor.

"There is one key to protecting the throne. And that is not to misjudge the ambition of the young."  

This is a politically strategic mind-battle manga sprinkled with intrigue, violence, and thought-provoking messages for the reader. However, this series isn't overwhelming or stiff. The scope is undeniably epic: from personal dignity and pride to ideological contradictions and world peace — all portrayed with brutal realism.  

**Pros:**  
Just the right length and pacing. No unnecessary delays in plot development. Once the rhythm is established at the start, it carries through to the very end. A smooth storyline makes it incredibly easy to read and understand.  
The art is breathtaking.  

The **depth** of the manga is remarkable. On a political level, Sanctuary explores two worlds simultaneously — the yakuza underworld and the political arena. It highlights their similarities and differences comprehensively. While politics and politicians operate behind closed doors, the yakuza uphold values like pride, dignity, and truth. Despite being the lower and upper worlds, they coexist and intertwine seamlessly. On a social level, Sanctuary addresses modern issues such as youth apathy, lack of ambition, and the stagnation of older generations. Describing everything this manga touches upon could easily fill several pages.  

**Scope:** Again, Sanctuary covers an extensive range of themes balanced effectively: dreams, friendship, love; violence, lust, fear; dignity, loyalty, trust; ideological conflicts, corruption, manipulation, generational shifts, etc. Ultimately, all these elements form the backdrop for two men striving to achieve their goals.  

**Cons:**  
Characters cry frequently, often out of context or mood. This might tie into the next drawback listed.  
Some may find the art lacking in facial expression variety. While the portrait art is stunning, it tends to be static. Perhaps the artist relied on crying scenes to convey characters' emotional suffering more distinctly.  
Weak female representation in the manga. The female characters are largely irrelevant, leaving readers questioning their purpose in the story. They neither contribute to plot development nor possess any unique traits.

This review includes minor spoilers.  

"What good is a Sanctuary if I have no-one to share it with?"  

Before delving into the specifics of Sanctuary, let's clarify what this manga is not:  
It’s not a modern adaptation of Machiavelli's "The Prince." It doesn't delve into strategy or tactics within the political realm, nor does it propose an ideal vision of politics.  
It’s not a Japanese version of *The West Wing* or *House of Cards*. While it touches on politics, you won’t gain much insight into the Japanese political system or policy discussions—it barely scratches the surface.  
Its focus also isn't necessarily its plot. The strength of this manga lies in its characters and themes. If you dislike either of these aspects, it may not be worth your time.  

If you're seeking those elements, you will likely be disappointed. With that out of the way, let’s examine the details.  

**Story:**  
The plot revolves around two Japanese survivors of the Cambodian massacres during Pol Pot's Khmer Rouge regime. They return to Japan after surviving and, during their high school years, decide to reform Japan. One plans to take over the Yakuza underground, while the other aims to dominate politics and become Prime Minister.  

The narrative follows their ascents through their respective hierarchies. You alternate between the two main characters, occasionally focusing on a side character, but their storylines frequently intersect. This happens because they share the same goal—reforming Japan—and because organized crime and politics are interconnected within the story.  

The plot is straightforward and easy to follow. As mentioned earlier, this isn't about intricate strategies or tactics. While plans are devised and maneuvers executed in their pursuit of power, don't expect elaborate mind games or complex plots. Most tactics are spur-of-the-moment decisions designed to regain the upper hand for the protagonists and their objectives. This results in some unusual plot twists, such as forming alliances with enemies to undermine them from within before severing ties abruptly. However, this doesn't detract from the storyline's quality.  

Given its 105 chapters, this is a relatively fast-paced series.  

That said, the ending feels rushed, though still satisfying. It’s bittersweet but effective. The manga could have benefited from three improvements: better plot development to reduce erratic moments, addressing one plot point I find less credible, and enhancements detailed below.  

**Themes:**  
At its core, this manga centers on a specific theme, though not the eponymous "Sanctuary." If you’ve read *Holyland*, you might anticipate a similar exploration of "Sanctuary," but you'd be disappointed. The concept receives only superficial attention, mentioned occasionally. We can infer its meaning from the actions and speeches of the main characters, but it remains vaguely defined, akin to political slogans ("Change we can believe in," "Hope and Change," "Liberty, Solidarity, Justice").  

Fortunately, the remaining themes carry the manga. Deep friendship is a major theme, evident given the characters' shared traumatic experiences.  

However, the heart of the manga isn't individual ambition, despite the characters aiming for the top in their fields. Instead, it focuses on societal reform. Returning to Japan after their near-death ordeal, the protagonists find the populace complacent, lacking spirit and conviction. Citizens reelect the same government repeatedly, prioritizing comfort over change. Interest in politics is low, and the desire to transform society nonexistent.  

The protagonists conclude this complacency isn't living. Citizens should engage in societal welfare, avoiding apathy and striving for progress. Though not a novel concept, it’s compellingly presented and makes for an engaging read. At its essence, this manga is altruistic and hopeful, despite its underworld setting and dealings with corruption.  

Another significant theme is youth replacing the old. This is justified even in real-world politics, considering the demographics of Japanese or American leadership. It’s not hatred of the elderly; rather, it contrasts clinging to the past with embracing the future, preservation versus innovation.  

**Characters:**  
Some argue the two main characters are indistinguishable. Both survived a horrific regime, are intelligent, reasonably attractive, and possess determination and willpower. This is true. However, using this as criticism misses the point.  

The entire premise hinges on their sameness. They were shaped by their shared Cambodian experience and decided their paths (Yakuza or Politician) via Rock-Paper-Scissors—essentially chance. Not to mention conceiving their plan to reform Japan together. For the story to work, they must be essentially the same soul in two bodies. Competing ideals, like Naruto and Sasuke, would undermine the premise and ultimate message.  

Supporting politicians and Yakuza members all have distinct interests and desires, developed appropriately for their roles. Tropes occasionally recur, but usually make sense within the setting or plot.  

The police fare poorly here, portrayed as either clueless bystanders or instigators of gang violence. Their presence exists mainly to address reader questions about law enforcement's absence. Yet the manga highlights that having police doesn't guarantee justice enforcement.  

One particularly controversial character warrants special mention.  

**Sexism:**  
Full disclosure: I’m not interested in gender politics. I believe women should be treated equally to men, but beyond that, I don't care how they're portrayed in media. I don’t think such portrayals significantly impact societal views or treatment. Anime and manga offer vast diversity, ensuring everyone can find something suited to their tastes—whether action-driven shonen, psychological seinen, fluffy shojo, or touching josei. Demographics often overlap so much that distinctions become irrelevant.  

That said, *Sanctuary* is sexist. I don’t believe this was the mangaka’s deliberate intent. He wasn’t promoting sexism nor was it integral to the setting. It may reflect the era, though the early '90s weren’t nearly as sexist as this manga suggests.  

Let’s address the egregious character omitted earlier: This individual is a brute, killing, maiming, and raping throughout the manga. I counted his exploits across different versions (9, 12, or 14 volumes). In the 14-volume edition, he rapes at least one woman in each of the first eight volumes. By volume nine, others recognize this pattern, leading to a restaurant offering a girl to prevent him from raping randomly in the bathroom. Regardless of formatting, this is profoundly sexist. Additionally, he engages in consensual sex frequently, indicating he isn’t a psychopath solely drawn to rape.  

Few women are depicted as strong or independent. Most exist in varying states of dependency on men. The police inspector epitomizes this issue for multiple reasons. Characters also engage in prostitution regularly (not inherently sexist but relevant here). This surpasses typical reliance on token female characters common in seinen or shonen works.  

**Art:**  
If anything in *Sanctuary* is nearly flawless, it’s the art.  

It’s realistic and well-executed, though stylistically dated. It complements the story effectively, especially Hojo’s (the Yakuza protagonist) design, reminiscent of organized crime portrayals in American films (*The Godfather*, *Casino*, *Goodfellas*). Isaoka embodies the archetypal old politician. Despite critiques regarding sexism, sexual scenes and nudity (male and female) are skillfully rendered. Each character has a unique, fitting design, preventing confusion.  

Notably, Cambodia under the regime is hauntingly beautiful in its depiction—a grim yet striking achievement.  

**Enjoyment and Conclusion:**  
I debated extensively how to factor the sexism into my rating. If you’re highly sensitive to such issues, you might reverse my score (giving it a 3 instead of my 8) or find your enjoyment diminished. For me, it’s noticeable and unpleasant but not central to the narrative nor maliciously intended. Ultimately, I chose not to let it affect my rating.  

This manga is enjoyable for the journey of its two remarkable characters toward power. It resonates through its themes, unbreakable friendship, iron will, ambition, positive mindset, great supporting cast, formidable antagonist, and high-quality art.  

If you’re intrigued by stories involving organized crime and/or politics, despite its flaws and partially undeveloped themes, *Sanctuary* is well worth exploring.

Sanctuary is a manga centered around two Japanese young men who were raised in the chaotic environment of Cambodia due to their parents being doctors. Upon returning to Japan, they resolve to create a sanctuary—an ideal nation—within their homeland. One becomes a yakuza boss, while the other ascends as a politician. Together, they aim to shake the world. Initially, this premise intrigued me, but ultimately, I was left disappointed.

The two main characters are indistinguishable from each other personality-wise. They're portrayed as strong, charismatic geniuses who excel in every aspect. One effortlessly takes over a political party with a brief speech that essentially boiled down to "fuck yeah, Japan." He rarely outlines specific policies or ideologies; his appeal lies in vague promises of change and a brighter future. The other character, a yakuza boss, deals in 'manliness' rather than narcotics. A hitman sent to assassinate him was so profoundly influenced by his manliness that he betrayed his employers. That's how compelling he is.

The themes are heavy-handed, often simplistically reducing to "old people suck" and "old people aren't manly." This motif recurs excessively throughout the manga. It's unclear why the mangaka harbors such disdain for the elderly, but subtlety is evidently not his forte. Perhaps it doesn't align with his perception of masculinity.

A pivotal plot point involves the yakuza pursuing high school education to transform their syndicate into a legitimate corporation. This alone undermines any semblance of realism the manga attempts to convey through its art or otherwise. Most plot developments lack coherence. Politics isn't that straightforward. Ascending to power isn't that effortless. Overhauling the government doesn't happen overnight. A significant antagonist gets the opportunity to seize power but declines, contradicting everything established about his character previously. There's no explanation for this shift, which doesn't constitute proper character development. Ultimately, the manga's resolution hinges on an old man conceding that younger individuals are more suited for leadership. While the generational divide is significant in Japanese culture and politics, its portrayal here feels overly exaggerated.

The action sequences, though sparse, are also unrealistic. In one instance, a fatally shot man rises, locates a crowd and camera, delivering a monologue identifying himself, his assailant, and his personal transformation due to the yakuza's influence. Why didn't the shooter finish him off? Why allow him to escape? These questions remain unanswered, diminishing my enjoyment significantly. Having consumed numerous political thrillers and crime dramas, I've grown weary of those lacking realism. Comparing this manga's writing to Law and Order is one of the harshest criticisms I can offer.

Non-gun related violence predominantly consists of breaking bottles over others' heads. The victims always recover unscathed, raising questions about the mangaka's creativity. If action scenes are necessary, they could at least be more engaging and plausible.

Organized crime is excessively glorified. The manga repeatedly emphasizes the superiority of authentic yakuza. When these yakuza commit acts like rape, it's trivialized. However, the protagonists are exempt, as all women are naturally drawn to them.

Women are mere objects within Sanctuary's universe, existing solely as sexual conquests for the hyper-masculine cast. Political adversaries, police officers, employees—all require 'dicking.' Among the recurring female characters, both abandon their professional responsibilities to pursue one of the main characters romantically. The manga's overt masculinity is undeniable.

Sanctuary is extraordinarily superficial. Good characters are handsome and masculine, while villains are ugly and unmasculine. This reinforces black-and-white morality, detracting from the manga's quality. Despite the intriguing backstory of Japanese protagonists growing up in Cambodia, Cambodians are depicted as repulsive and primitive. The manga exudes nationalism, disparaging anything non-Japanese.

Character expressions are wooden and contrived, reused throughout the manga as they deliver trite dialogue. The yakuza's signature upturned smile appears countless times. Characters possess limited stock expressions, contributing to their one-dimensionality.

At its core, Sanctuary embodies the wish-fulfillment typical of many harem manga, albeit presented differently. While it deserves credit for its unique approach, the writing remains subpar. The offensive portrayal of women and Cambodians bothers me. Manga might not demand political correctness, but such depictions yield flat characters, hindering overall enjoyment.

I found some aspects enjoyable, but even then, it amounted to mindless entertainment. Stories with black-and-white morality cannot qualify as good political thrillers or crime dramas. I rated it 3 instead of 2 due to its potential, but it proved a major letdown. Calling it mediocre would be excessive praise. I advise steering clear of it. Disliking it offers no value, and liking it implies falling prey to its misogynistic allure. Either way, there's no positive outcome. Given this, my score is generous.

Story: 2/10  
Art: 3/10  
Character: 1/10  
Enjoyment: 5/10  
Bonus: 5/10  
Overall: 16/50 or 32%

What can I say about Sanctuary that the 10 rating doesn't convey for me?  

This manga is, quite simply, a masterpiece. It's exceedingly rare to encounter a piece of media deserving of such a title, yet Sanctuary continues to wear this prestigious crown even today.  

Written by Sho Fumimura, better known as Buronson, the creator of Fist of the North Star and other renowned works, and illustrated by Ryoichi Ikegami. The duo has collaborated multiple times since then on projects like Heat and the ongoing Lord. They certainly have a thing for one-word titles, don't they?  

I'll refrain from spoiling any part of the story, but suffice it to say, it's an exceptional crime drama/political thriller featuring complex characters and incredibly charismatic protagonists.  

If you're looking to expand your horizons beyond the typical Shonen focus on Nakama and delve into the profound and shadowy world of Seinen manga, this story serves as the ideal starting point. I assure you, you won't regret it.

Sanctuary may not represent reality in every aspect, but it offers a digestible medium to understand concepts that might otherwise take a lifetime to grasp. It tells a passionate and profound story about two young men striving to rejuvenate Japan, battling through layers of corruption that had left the nation stagnant. While other reviews have highlighted the manga's strengths, I will focus on addressing some of the criticisms leveled against it.

One criticism often raised is that women in the story are merely "sexual objects." Many of the female characters are indeed involved in prostitution, but this reflects their roles within the narrative—it's literally their profession. Beyond that, many women are depicted as being attracted to certain male characters. Additionally, there are instances of rape by gangsters, such as Tokai. These characters are portrayed as barbaric and primitive; Tokai even refers to himself as stupid. The story does not glorify these actions but instead includes them as part of the broader narrative, much like how they exist in real-life criminal organizations.

Given that the story primarily revolves around 20th-century Yakuza and Japanese politics, it isn't surprising that female leaders are scarce. However, the author does introduce at least two significant female characters: Ms. Bisett, an influential American politician, and Deputy Chief Kyoko Ishihara. To dismiss these characters as mere objects would reveal either bias or a lack of comprehension. Both women are portrayed as assertive individuals unafraid to confront their adversaries and voice their opinions. Ms. Bisett remains steadfast in her responsibilities, supporting Asami when necessary while staying true to her role as the U.S. Trade Minister. Kyoko, meanwhile, evolves throughout the story, deepening her love for Hojo and altering her stance on arresting him. If she hadn’t changed, critics might still accuse her of being a static character.

The story doesn't aim to vilify older generations outright. It simply highlights how entrenched corruption among aging politicians has hindered progress. These figures have maintained their positions for decades by thriving on corrupt practices rather than contributing positively to the nation. The narrative champions the energy and drive of the youth to instigate meaningful change. It critiques governmental stagnation caused by self-serving politicians more concerned with retaining power than advancing the country’s interests. From the outset, it becomes clear that these politicians manipulate each other for personal gain rather than any collective vision for their homeland.

Even within the manga, older individuals contribute to propelling Japan into a new era. Generally, older generations tend to be more conservative, while younger ones are more ambitious, but this isn't universally true—as evidenced by figures like Trump and Bernie Sanders. If your takeaway from the manga is that all young people are good and all old people are bad, then you've likely approached it with limited understanding. This manga advocates for dismantling outdated systems that no longer serve the people. This realization is poignantly captured when Norimoto Isaoka declines to reclaim his former position, acknowledging that his vision for Japan is outdated compared to the "sanctuary" created by others.

Critics also question the rapid progression of events, deeming them unrealistic. While I see where this critique comes from, the manga partially explains this acceleration, especially toward the end, where urgency drives the characters' plans. Though we don't witness every step of Hojo's rise to prominence at the beginning of the manga, glimpses into his and Asami's pasts provide context. What truly matters is their journey from those starting points to the creation of "sanctuary," which forms the core of the manga. If certain details feel less exhaustive or detailed than desired, consider the constraints of producing chapters efficiently. Including mundane realities would be both time-consuming and unnecessary for the manga's purpose—to offer readers a glimpse of "sanctuary" as inspiration rather than a comprehensive guide.

If you're contemplating reading this manga, do so. Immerse yourself in its world and carefully analyze each page. Doing so will enhance your appreciation of the ending.

By the way, Ms. Bisett makes her debut in Volume 5, Chapter 16.