A brilliantly placed sequence sees the executive who ordered his termination sneer at his decision to give up his life as a salary-man, only to himself return home seemingly oblivious to the fact he’s a patriarch to a loveless family he only bears out of social tradition. The idea of facing the 9 to 5 grind for seemingly nobody’s glory than that of your immediate superior and receiving absolutely no loyalty in return is the unpleasant reality of modern employment, especially for graduates who find there aren’t nearly enough jobs to match the number of idealists the further education system is producing. It’s the open acceptance of this reality that Black Lagoon places front and centre. As a main character Rock is quite relatable to most young adults, especially in these times of economic hardship. The good are not always rewarded, the bad are not always punished. It’s often said that “Kids want to be Luke Skywalker, but adults want to be Han Solo.” Indeed, as we grow and mature in the realities of the world we often leave behind the black and white morality that serves us well in childhood and accept the tones of grey. After rechristening himself as “Rock,” he chooses the life of a modern-day pirate with the Lagoon Company, accepting dangerous jobs in and around the criminal haven of Roanapur. Taken as a hostage, Rokuro finds to his surprise that the pirates aren’t so bad, and that his employer is less than concerned about his well-being.
Rokuro Okajima is a young man at the end of his rope: After getting through college he has found himself seemingly trapped in a menial job within a Tokyo conglomerate, and things look set to end in a pitiful whimper for him when, during an assignment to transport an important disc across the South China sea, his ship is attacked by pirates.