Most of us have probably tried it at some point. What “it” means varies, but the definition is always “something that works in my favorite story.” Whether that was strapping brushes to your feet and skating around the house because it worked in Pippi Longstocking, attempting to do a one-handed handstand and springing back to your feet like Ryoga in Ranma ½, or using a Stand like in JoJo's Bizarre Adventure, the lure of the fantastic is astoundingly powerful. But most of us aren't nearly as skilled at mimicking fiction as Maruo, the protagonist of Yūji Kaku's Ayashimon, because where we typically failed, he 100% succeeded.

As conceits go, it's a delightfully self-aware one that provides the otherwise relatively familiar supernatural thug story with a good gimmick. Maruo constantly makes references to his favorite series, like Dragon Ball, JoJo's Bizarre Adventure, and Fist of the North Star, and Kaku includes plenty of visuals to go along with them (with copyrights carefully noted, so he doesn't have to fudge the details). Sure, Maruo can't use an energy blast in his Kamehameha, but he can still use the pose to couch a powerful fist to his opponent's face. He's living the dream in a lot of ways.

That in itself masks the darker truth about his past. Although we're not explicitly told or shown anything, the very strong implication is that Maruo grew up with an abusive father, and he began idolizing shounen heroes because they could fight their way out of bad situations. He seems to have realized that no one was coming to save him, so he is determined to become his own hero. When he eventually takes on his father, however, he's disappointed that the monster of his childhood turned out just to be a man, and the “victory” ultimately left him feeling empty. Maruo's quest, therefore, isn't just to find a place to belong or to feel useful, it's a search for a reason for everything he's been through. What's the point, after all, of being a hero with no monsters to overcome?

Luckily for him, his search for a job (which was going spectacularly and entertainingly badly) lands him in a park when what looks like a young girl runs by, being chased by yakuza. This is Urara, and needly to say, she's not at all what she seems. Linked to one of the biggest crime syndicates in Kabukicho, Urara is looking to carry on the legacy of a dead dad she can't risk revealing, and when Maruo saves her from her pursuers, she immediately offers him a job as her bodyguard. He's delighted to accept, but there's just one little detail that's a sticking point (for people who aren't him): Urara and the guys chasing her aren't human. They're yokai, and all of the yakuza in Kabukicho is a specific class of yokai called “Ayashimon.”

Many manga creators preface their first volumes by saying things like “this manga is full of stuff I like,” but that's rarely felt so true as in this case. There are a lot of twisted backstories to get through before the plot feels like it actually starts, to the point where at times it beggars belief. On the other hand, the concept of “Ayashimon,” presumably a portmanteau of “ayakashi” and “monster” (the title is written without kanji) is a good one, and Kaku's decision to make them the organized crime of the supernatural world is fun. To a degree, the premise could be said to be a modern world version of Helck, which also pits a human against monsters, although it's important to remember that Urara is really in charge here; Maruo is just her hired muscle.

It's a role that he truly relishes, however. Maruo's been looking for a righteous battle to fight all along, and even if becoming a yakuza minion wasn't the way he thought he'd find it, he's just so happy to have a challenge and a lady to protect that it doesn't matter. (The fact that destroyed Ayashimon bodies turn into manga-buying money helps.) He's the most consistent element of the story, with his zest for violence and willingness to accept basically anything thrown at him as real, and there's something very appealing about him as a protagonist. Urara is a bit more of a cipher, and that feels deliberate – she's playing a long game as subtly as possible, although she's figuring out that “subtle” and “Maruo” really don't belong in the same sentence.

The yakuza action revolves almost entirely around the void left by the death of the Enma family's head, and plenty of people want to fill it. The result is a twisted web of competing Ayashimon of varying competency. Doppo, one of Enma's leaders, seems to be being set up as the major villain (or at least the first one), and he is sufficiently awful, mutilating other Ayashimon in the name of “art.” There's also a group of humans tasked with maintaining the peace (or an approximation thereof) in Kabukicho, and as you might guess they're all onmyoji. Some of the Ayashimon see them as enemies, but it feels too early to make that call where Urara and Maruo are concerned.

Despite feeling like a lot of the story is still being set up, this volume is packed. That's both a positive and a negative. There's plenty of creative world-building going on, and it mostly steers clear of the dreaded infodump. But there's also a complex web of loyalties, powers, and history thrown at us, and the art is likewise busy. For the most part, however, it's a fun action-packed self-aware shounen adventure. If any of the things Yūji Kaku likes are things you enjoy as well, it's worth giving this a chance.