A personal team of AI assistants, each with a specific job, built around the work we do every day in WebCenter. Not a chatbot. A crew that runs in the background so I can focus on what actually matters.
Japanese names are chosen for what they carry, not just how they sound. This one is two characters, and both of them matter.
Together: a quiet crew that handles things in the background, so I don't have to.
Kage-gumi looks like an AI project. It's actually the output of 16 years at Esko: code I wrote, problems I solved, and WebCenter patterns I collected along the way, with AI finally powerful enough to put all of it to work.
The AI didn't replace the experience. It finally made 16 years of it instantly usable.
When Mei answers a WebCenter question or Ren generates a script, it's drawing on a real body of work, not hallucinating from documentation. That's the difference between a general AI tool and something purpose-built over years.
WebCenter is powerful, but a lot of the daily work around it is repetitive, time-consuming, or requires knowing exactly the right script syntax. That's where the crew comes in.
And it doesn't have to stay personal. Because Mei already carries the WebCenter support playbook, after a build I can drop a tailored instance at the customer and let their team use it as a self-service support bot — answering the same questions I would, without me in the loop.
Real scenarios the crew handles:
Instead of hunting through docs, I ask Mei. It knows the full JSP call library: SetAttribute.jsp, GetAttributes.jsp, the right parameters, the XML response structure, and gives me working code immediately.
Ren builds Dashboard scripts, Rule Engine scripts, Workflow JavaScript node scripts. Built around WebCenter — each context has different APIs and constraints, and Ren knows them all. Scripts come back versioned and diffable, and Ren pushes them straight into WebCenter himself — no copy-paste step.
Haku documents what was just built, but also surfaces what already exists: existing scripts, prior configurations, related workflows. She can read a live WebCenter artifact via Playwright and write a functional spec from what she actually sees. Output is clean, shareable, Azure DevOps–ready.
Ryū runs scheduled tasks while I sleep, processing queued scripts and delivering a morning digest of everything that happened.
Chō listens to the meeting and transcribes it locally with faster-whisper — nothing leaves the machine — then returns a structured summary: decisions, action items, open questions. Meeting knowledge becomes reusable project text the rest of the crew can act on.
Once Chō has summarised, Sumi files it into a durable per-customer record. Tag the meeting to a customer and it's archived into a clean dossier that outlives the call — faithful and factual, never inventing an attendee or a date.
The pain everyone who touches WebCenter knows — customers and developers alike: you're on a page with no idea which dashboards, saved searches and forms are nested inside it, so you go digging through the system to find out. Tōshi X-rays the page in one click — the whole nested structure laid out, every item a direct link to its editor. The searching just stops.
Current operative statuses:
Each operative has a Japanese name chosen for what it means, not just as decoration. The character shapes how that operative behaves.
There are three technologies that make this work. Each one has a distinct job and they stack cleanly.
The LLM is Claude, the AI doing the actual thinking. The operatives aren't different AI models. They're the same Claude, given different system prompts and memory that shape how they behave. Mei thinks like a WebCenter support engineer. Ren thinks like a builder. Same brain, different expertise.
Without MCP, Claude can only produce text. MCP is what lets an operative actually reach into real systems: read and update WebCenter directly, draw a workflow on a Miro board, publish a spec to Azure DevOps. When Mei pulls a project's live attributes, or Haku files a functional spec straight onto the board, that's MCP. It gives the crew arms.
Claude Code (the terminal tool) is how the system itself is built and maintained. Setting up the repo, wiring agents together, writing the logic that connects operatives to each other, all done through Claude Code sessions. It's also what lets Ryū run autonomously in the background, without needing anyone sitting in a chat window.
The CLI built the house. The LLM is the mind living inside it. MCP is the arms reaching into the world.
Real screenshots of the running system — not mockups, not demos.
Kage-gumi isn't finished. It's a living system. Each version adds depth to an existing operative or introduces a new one. The crew grows deliberately, not all at once.
Studio turns KG into a WebCenter build platform: design a project as work items, let Ren execute each one, Ryū runs the queue overnight, and colleagues can join with their own Claude tokens. The design-to-deploy loop, fully automated. See the Studio section below →
Haku can write documentation beautifully, but only from what she's given. The deeper layer (the skill files, the WebCenter SDK patterns, the prompt context that makes Mei and Ren actually good at their jobs) has to be maintained by hand.
Every time WebCenter ships a new release, every time a new script pattern is discovered, every time an edge case is solved, that knowledge needs to be written into the system deliberately. It doesn't flow in automatically.
The crew is only as good as what they've been taught. Keeping that current is an ongoing commitment, part of the job, not a one-time setup.
Kage-gumi started as a personal AI assistant for daily WebCenter work. Studio is what it becomes next: a WebCenter build platform — where entire projects are designed as work items, operatives execute each one, and the result is deployed into WebCenter and committed to the codebase in the same operation.
Think Azure DevOps. Without the overhead. Your backlog is executed by AI, your build pipeline is Ren, and your overnight CI is Ryū.
A densho is the scroll a school keeps to record its techniques and pass them to the next generation. Densho is the crew's own version — a living library of every reusable WebCenter solution we've forged: the design notes, the working script, how to test it, where it fits. Browse it, pull a solution straight into a build, or file a new one.
The crew's accumulated craft, owned outright and written in our own voice — growing every time an operative builds something worth keeping.
"You don't need to be into AI to find this useful. You just need WebCenter work that's taking more time than it should."