This sounds like Dreams of Gods and Men by W. T. Quick. The character is Toshi not Yoshi. For example this mention of the Blades of God:

Toshi stared at a tiny figure picking its dainty way through the rubble of the God's retreat, moving slowly toward the fifty-meter wall of rock which sheltered Toshi's hideaway. He knew that form. Blades of God, they called themselves. He squinted at the little yellow killer, trying to estimate how much time he had left. Not much, probably. Those fragile-looking samurai were unbelievably effective at search and destroy.

Toshi has implants that allow him to be remote controlled, and this allows speeded up reactions:

The implants which connected him to Levin were modeled on some very nasty wrinkles in mind control the NASA-INTEL people dreamed up in the late nineties and later discarded as too dangerous for even their arcane purposes. Levin actually used him as a remote input-output unit. He watched from Toshi's eyes; heard from his ears, shared his enthusiasm for the taste of dark beer and the smell of fresh bread. In their strange relationship, Toshi functioned at times as an ultimate Waldo. Berg said it was safe. Toshi trusted Berg. And Berg had designed Levin. But, he thought uncomfortably, we've never truly put it to the test -- and when the Blade flowed into his rocky nest like a striking bushmaster, all his emotions clamored blindly against the prison of his skull. Toshi's hands, covered with electrified, razor-studded mandrakes, moved suddenly, a blur faster than he could follow. The unbidden movement shocked him.

 

Amazing, Toshi thought. Nice set of reflexes.

And finally there is the motorbike:

Closer. He rubbed his eyes and watched the cloud of steam forming above his lips. He rummaged cloudy memories. Motorcycle, an old one. He closed his eyes and tried to concentrate. Triumph. Bonneville 650. One of the best of the antiques, a road-burner from the dawn of time.

This sounds like Dreams of Gods and Men by W. T. Quick. The character is Toshi not Yoshi. For example this mention of the Blades of God:

Toshi stared at a tiny figure picking its dainty way through the rubble of the God's retreat, moving slowly toward the fifty-meter wall of rock which sheltered Toshi's hideaway. He knew that form. Blades of God, they called themselves. He squinted at the little yellow killer, trying to estimate how much time he had left. Not much, probably. Those fragile-looking samurai were unbelievably effective at search and destroy.

Toshi has implants that allow him to be remote controlled, and this allows speeded up reactions:

The implants which connected him to Levin were modeled on some very nasty wrinkles in mind control the NASA-INTEL people dreamed up in the late nineties and later discarded as too dangerous for even their arcane purposes. Levin actually used him as a remote input-output unit. He watched from Toshi's eyes; heard from his ears, shared his enthusiasm for the taste of dark beer and the smell of fresh bread. In their strange relationship, Toshi functioned at times as an ultimate Waldo. Berg said it was safe. Toshi trusted Berg. And Berg had designed Levin. But, he thought uncomfortably, we've never truly put it to the test -- and when the Blade flowed into his rocky nest like a striking bushmaster, all his emotions clamored blindly against the prison of his skull. Toshi's hands, covered with electrified, razor-studded mandrakes, moved suddenly, a blur faster than he could follow. The unbidden movement shocked him.

Amazing, Toshi thought. Nice set of reflexes.

And finally there is the motorbike:

Closer. He rubbed his eyes and watched the cloud of steam forming above his lips. He rummaged cloudy memories. Motorcycle, an old one. He closed his eyes and tried to concentrate. Triumph. Bonneville 650. One of the best of the antiques, a road-burner from the dawn of time.

This sounds like Dreams of Gods and Men by W. T. Quick. The character is Toshi not Yoshi.

This sounds like Dreams of Gods and Men by W. T. Quick. The character is Toshi not Yoshi. For example this mention of the Blades of God:

Toshi stared at a tiny figure picking its dainty way through the rubble of the God's retreat, moving slowly toward the fifty-meter wall of rock which sheltered Toshi's hideaway. He knew that form. Blades of God, they called themselves. He squinted at the little yellow killer, trying to estimate how much time he had left. Not much, probably. Those fragile-looking samurai were unbelievably effective at search and destroy.

Toshi has implants that allow him to be remote controlled, and this allows speeded up reactions:

The implants which connected him to Levin were modeled on some very nasty wrinkles in mind control the NASA-INTEL people dreamed up in the late nineties and later discarded as too dangerous for even their arcane purposes. Levin actually used him as a remote input-output unit. He watched from Toshi's eyes; heard from his ears, shared his enthusiasm for the taste of dark beer and the smell of fresh bread. In their strange relationship, Toshi functioned at times as an ultimate Waldo. Berg said it was safe. Toshi trusted Berg. And Berg had designed Levin. But, he thought uncomfortably, we've never truly put it to the test -- and when the Blade flowed into his rocky nest like a striking bushmaster, all his emotions clamored blindly against the prison of his skull. Toshi's hands, covered with electrified, razor-studded mandrakes, moved suddenly, a blur faster than he could follow. The unbidden movement shocked him.

Amazing, Toshi thought. Nice set of reflexes.

And finally there is the motorbike:

Closer. He rubbed his eyes and watched the cloud of steam forming above his lips. He rummaged cloudy memories. Motorcycle, an old one. He closed his eyes and tried to concentrate. Triumph. Bonneville 650. One of the best of the antiques, a road-burner from the dawn of time.