"The era of the yakuza has ended!" screams the headline in Shukan Gendai (March 30). Can this claim be taken at face value? Well, it carries the byline of author and journalist Atsushi Mizoguchi, who happens to be Japan's most authoritative expert on organized crime syndicates.

The timing of the article is crucial, because on February 8, former crime boss Tadamasa Goto passed away in a Tokyo hospital of pneumonia, at the age of 83.

Still, Shinobu Tsukasa, head of Japan's largest criminal organization, the Yamaguchigumi, was born the same year as Goto, and reportedly remains in good health.

Mizoguchi recalls his visit to Goto's home in Fujinomiya City, where he was surprised by the size of its spacious garden, which featured a huge stone, said to weigh one ton, a small cascading waterfall and pond stocked with colored carp.

"Whaddya think?" Goto boasted. "You won't see a stone that size even in the gardens at the New Otani or Okura hotels."

Mizoguchi recalled a day in 1990 when Goto had telephoned him to request an "urgent meeting."

The two men met at a building near the west exit of JR Shinjuku station.

"My friends at Yamaguchigumi said they've got a problem with the series about them you've been running in a tabloid newspaper. You and I are not strangers, but there are some rebels within the Yamaguchigumi. I don't want to see you to get hurt, and I want to continue with my yakuza life for a little longer. From now on, when you write something about Yamaguchigumi, will you show me your drafts?"

"Goto's tone wasn't at all threatening, but I didn't want to rub him the wrong way, so I told him frankly, 'There's no problem showing it to you, but before you see it, you should know that part of the series is about to be published as a book.'"

"That's gonna be a problem," Goto muttered. "All right, in that case, show me the book's galley proofs."

"I'll try and do that, I told him. But leaving the office I suddenly felt drained.

"Two days later I got a telephone call from Goto who was aboard the shinkansen. I'm on my way back from Kobe. Yamaguchigumi has come to a decision so whether or not you show me the galley proofs, please just halt the publication. I'll pay for the first edition's royalties."

"If I were to do that, I'd be laughed out of town. And that would be the end of my days as a writer," I spewed at him, slamming down the phone.

That book was published in June 1990. On August 29 of the same year, while leaving my office, I was stabbed in the armpit from behind by a stranger. I was convinced whoever did it was not a Gotogumi member. It was from this time that I first realized that Yamaguchigumi was not a monolithic organization.

Years later, Goto appeared to have lost interest in gang life and instead took up other activities. He backed production of a movie, worked at getting his autobiography published and engaged in charitable works in Southeast Asia.

Goto also stepped in to support young gang members who could not survive on their earnings, and waived their membership dues. He grew his gang through his own efforts.

In July 2001, Goto underwent a successful liver transplant at the UCLA medical center in California. He returned to Japan in November that year, after which he received postoperative care at the Nisseki Hospital in Tokyo.

"Not long afterword, I proposed another idea for a project I had to Goto, but he turned it down. Then he went to the refrigerator and took out a bottle of California wine, which he handed to me. Looking at the label I said, 'Oh, Opus One,' and he reacted with a laugh, saying 'Ah, you know it, do you?' It sold for between 50,000 to 100,000 yen a bottle. I suspect he supposed a poor man like me would not be familiar with such a luxury brand."

Mizoguchi senses that Goto may go down in history as one of the last of the "legendary yakuza," ie, a yakuza whose exploits are recalled and talked about after his death.

At present, a majority of yakuza -- due both to the anti-yakuza laws and ordinances and membership fees -- are hurting financially, some so badly that they on the verge of applying for welfare. Their total numbers have declined to one-tenth of the former peak. In such circumstances, what truly matters is the balance between the good deeds and bad deeds a man has committed during his lifetime.

Along with the "demise of the legendary yakuza," Mizoguchi concludes, the conditions and environment for the yakuzas' existence have been completely lost. So their denouement seems inevitable.