The Psyche Diver Trilogy: Demon Hunters (17 page)

The black creature stalled. The two of them faced each other meters apart in the red light. It was experiencing a kind of confusion. It could not get hold of the man; it was like fighting air. The man was clearly there, but it was as though he had no substance. It was the same feeling that Biku experienced when he met Hosuke for the first time in Tateyama. Hosuke seemed to have the ability to dissolve his presence and melt into the air. Now, on the roof of this building over 100 meters above ground, he was putting on an impressive demonstration of the skill.

He did not appear to be using any particular shrouding technique, but his aura was as transparent as the air around him. And it stayed that way, even when the creature attacked. The best time to attack is when an opponent is afraid or when they launch an attack themselves, but the creature was unable to sense either fear or hostility from Hosuke. When physically threatened, a person’s transparent energy clouds over, but that was not happening with Hosuke. Regardless of whether he had been born with the skill or acquired it through training, it was what made him an A-class Psyche Diver.

“You’re called Hanko, right?” Hosuke’s thick lips smiled. For the first time, a phantom-like aura of alternating colors flowed out from Hosuke’s transparent form, like a cloud billowing under a continuous stream of air. Hosuke appeared to have full control over the manipulation his aura. “Ha ha, this is just too much fun.” Hosuke smiled, curving one side of his mouth upward. It looked like his mouth was watering, like he was about to lap up his saliva.

The black creature, Hanko, began to pant heavily in response, exhaling darkness itself. The thick animal smell of its breath carried on the wind.

“Give me your best. Try and take me out, if you can,” Hosuke bated in a low, melodic voice. A colorful aura shimmered out from his muscular torso. It was as though layers of gently glowing cellophane were peeling away from his muscles and floating upward in a cascade of color. It flowered through the night air like an aurora.

Even twisted in a hunch, Hanko towered above Hosuke. Hosuke’s bulk was only half that of the monster. He could still recall the image of Hanko clobbering a bear to death before his eyes. Its head had been nothing more than a bloody, tattered pulp by the time he cast it away. It was that mix of brute strength and tremendous skill that allowed Hanko to take on wild animals on an equal footing. That was only ten days ago.

Hanko charged, hurling a gigantic meaty fist in Hosuke’s direction. Hosuke dodged, leaping to the left. One of Hanko’s hands blurred and something like a black thread flew toward Hosuke’s face. He tried to knock it away with his right arm, but it began to wrap itself around him. It was not a whip, more like a thread woven from thin strands of leather. The beast pulled him in with tremendous power. Hosuke allowed it, launching into a sprint toward Hanko. He scooped up the remaining slack and hooked the thread into a loop before leaping up. He sailed over Hanko’s head, lassoing the creature’s neck. He landed on the concrete floor and violently heaved his bound arm forward, roaring from the exertion. The thread dug into Hanko’s throat.

Hanko resisted, pulling away from Hosuke even as the noose tightened around its neck. The line cut deeper. The beast was trying to tip Hosuke backward. The power of its neck was unbelievable. Hosuke quickly unraveled the thread from his arm. Hanko roped it in with both hands; the beast had regained possession of the weapon.

Something metallic glinted through the air, hurtling toward Hanko’s face as it reflected the red light of the tower. Hanko deflected it with a flick of the thread between his hands. It rebounded into the air, flashing through the darkness before clattering onto the concrete floor. It was one of the knives Hanko had thrown into the hotel room.

“Perhaps I could join the fun?” Biku stood next to the entrance of the emergency escape, eyes cool. The night breeze teased the hair across his elegant, white cheeks. His bewitching, feminine looks contrasted with the maturity of his poise. Hanko circled around, keeping a wide birth. He was moving closer to Biku but maintaining distance from Hosuke. He began to accelerate. Biku stood his ground, completely still. He sent the knives flying, aimed directly at Hanko. The two piercing reflections of light stretched through the air as though they were being sucked into Hanko’s chest. The beast didn’t even slow. Biku tumbled to the side, rolling two, three times over the ground. The knives clashed successively into the concrete, falling just behind him. Hanko had plucked them out of the air in mid-run and launched a counterattack at Biku.

The beast hurled itself off the edge of the roof, its massive frame disappeared into the darkness beyond the emergency stairs.

“What the--” The two men charged toward the edge Hanko had disappeared over. They peered down. Hanko hung there, suspended by the leather chord. It was wrapped around the railing of the emergency staircase two floors down. The beast swung in, landing on the steps a floor below. It bolted down.

“Quite the abomination,” Biku muttered. His pale cheeks looked slightly green.

Hosuke could not even imagine the kind of strength needed to support a body weight of nearly 180 kilograms after a drop of two floors, but that was exactly what Hanko had just done, a full 100 meters above the ground.

6

Biku and Hosuke returned to the hotel room.

They found the dead man and Iba, still tied to the chairs. Iba’s shirt was soaked red with blood from his shoulder. Hosuke fiddled with the leather chord Hanko had left on the railing. It was woven from a number of thin leather strands. He glanced at it every now and again.

“So,” Biku said, looking directly at Iba, “I suppose we’re going to have to go looking for two human-sized trunks.” He sighed lightly.

“What should we do about the stains on the carpet?” Hosuke said.

“Ah yes. There’s someone I can call to fix that. We’ve got the room for another two days, that should be plenty of time to clear the stains,” he said calmly. “So Iba, how does it feel to have your own people make an attempt on your life?” Biku half smiled at the man.

Iba remained silent.

“So, what do I do now?” Hosuke said.

“Ah, yes...”

“I think we’re done here.”

“What would you prefer to do?”

“Say I were to just leave, I would be free to take the money and go?”

“Of course.”

“Hmm...” Hosuke spun the leather chord in his hands. “And you’ll be paying the amount we had agreed upon, despite the accident?”

“Indeed.”

“I don’t have any change.” Biku looked confused. “You’re paying too much.”

“Not at all. And you risked your life for us tonight,” said Biku.

“That was my pleasure.” Hosuke ran his right hand through his hair, scratching his scalp. “There’s just one thing that bugs me.”

“And that would be?”

“The girl, Yuko.”

“Yuko?”

“Earlier, Iba said they’d done something with her.”

Biku glanced at Hosuke and smiled softly. “I see, you’ve fallen for her.”

“No, that’s not it. But it bugs me. I just don’t feel good knowing a girl I fucked is being messed around with by a bunch of assholes.” Hosuke looked down, almost bashfully. He looked back at Biku. “Not that you’re any more demure than this lot.”

Biku remained quiet.

“There’s one other thing on my mind too.”

“Yes?”

“You saw it, that bogeyman. I just want to know why these bastards went and stole Kukai, why they came looking for me. I’m beginning to think it might just be a good idea to join their game, even if it’s risky, and who knows, if it turns out they need me I might get rich in the process.”

“Yes, I see.”

“For now, I’m with you, but if things get out of hand I’m leaving. I hope you won’t hold a grudge if that happens, Biku.”

“Of course not. To summarize, depending on how things progress you may feel it prudent to join their side. Correct?”

“Yeah, I guess that’s about right.”

“Well, you could just help Iba now? They might give you a better job for it.” Hosuke smiled awkwardly and scratched his head.

Biku grinned and cast his eyes to the body of the dead man, still sprawled across the floor. His eyes paused at the man’s throat for the briefest of moments. He clicked his tongue sharply. He had completely let his guard down.

“Iba!” Iba was on his feet before Biku could turn to face him; he lunged at Biku from behind, wielding the knife that had been in the other man’s throat. While Biku had been away on the roof he had knocked over his chair and used his bound hands to pull the knife from the man’s throat, cutting himself loose.

Biku swung around and slammed the base of his right fist into Iba’s temple. Iba collapsed like a stick, hitting the ground headfirst. He strained his eyes wide and stared entreatingly at Hosuke from the floor. “If you help me now, that money you mentioned is yours.”

“I just told you, I’m not fond of guys that fuck with girls I’ve slept with.” Hosuke grinned wickedly.

“Looks like I’m going to be able to force your confession after all,” Biku said.

“Bastard!” Iba’s eyes fell on Biku’s left shoulder, he looked momentarily puzzled. The knife he had been holding protruded from it at a gross angle. A ring of blood spread across Biku’s shirt.

“Ah, this?” Biku turned his head to glance at the knife sticking out of his shoulder. He wrapped his right hand around the hilt and jerked it out without even a flinch. Biku grinned coolly at Iba, brandishing the knife in his hand. It was red with his blood.

“I forgot to tell you,” Biku said, his grin stretching into a bewitching smile, “I was born without the facility to sense pain, it’s unknown to me. A congenital indifference, they call it. It happens now and again, one in tens of millions of people.” Biku traced his tongue across the length of the blade, cleaning it of his blood.

“That’s how you could do that shit without batting an eyelid,” Hosuke said, turning to look at the fingers of the gunman on the floor. Three of the fingers from his right hand had been snapped back toward the top of his hand. The tips were charred red with gunpowder burns.

“Some methods work faster than a dive, when the subject is conscious, of course. Serums can force a confession, for example, but I’m more interested in exploring pain. I have no understanding of that world. What kind of expressions show pain, the pain that leads to such expressions. We have plenty of time for Iba to show us. In truth, I feel jealous of people that can feel pain.”

That was Biku’s secret, the man also known as the Kujaku Myo’o. His voice was soft. His lips were dyed red with the blood from the knife. They formed an exquisitely beautiful smile. The look on Iba’s face made it clear that he too understood the secret behind the man’s coolness.

“Now then...” Biku’s face lit up with the innocence of a young girl.

Nine

Savage Fangs

1

11:30 at night.

A quiet, narrow asphalt road. Only a few pedestrians and cars would pass by every 10 minutes or so. The area was filled with exclusive residential properties; their protective walls towered along the sides of the road. Among them was a spattering of middle-class apartment blocks. A few cars were parked along the street, skipping a space between them. The closest train station was around a 15-minute walk.

A woman appeared after a few minutes, walking alone, away from the station. She was a slender-faced, youngish woman of about 25. There was something ruthless in her eyes, but not unpleasantly so. There was nothing to suggest that she was a streetwalker, no sign of dilapidation. Her makeup was immaculate, not too thick. She had been out drinking but made sure to have reapplied her lipstick. She was pretty. She looked like the type of woman that was strong and independent.

A door to one of the parked cars swung open as she walked by. A man got out and bowed politely. “Excuse me, but could you help me find the nearest station?” the man said; he was blocking her path.

It was suspicious. The car had been parked there the whole time, so it did not quite make sense that the man would be lost. He looked around quickly and, satisfied that no-one was around, lunged forward, covering her mouth with his hand. He began trying to push her into the car. The woman thrashed in resistance, but her cries were muffled, a second pair of hands emerged from the car and pulled her in. She was inside the car in less than five seconds. As soon as the door shut, the engine started and the car began to pull away. She sat trapped between the two men in the backseat, arms pinned down.

“Make a fuss and you die,” the man that had spoken to her on the street growled, his hand still over her mouth. “Understood?”

The woman used her eyes to tell him that she did. She had no idea what was happening, but she knew she did not want to end up dead. There were three of them including the driver. She regretted not having put up more of a fight before she had been bundled into the car, but it was too late now; she was inside, the door was closed. She would bide her time. She was frightened, but lucid enough to make the decision.

Just as the car was about to shift into third gear, a man appeared in the headlights. He was a giant, massive, wearing jeans and a hemp sweater. He stood in the middle of the road with his legs casually apart, hands in his pockets. The driver blared the horn and slammed on the brakes.

“Out of the fucking way, asshole!” he shouted, opening the window. The man smiled at him mockingly. “Can’t you fucking hear me?” the driver raged.

“I hear you just fine.” The man’s voice was utterly composed. It was clear enough that he had not stopped the car by accident.

“Well get the fuck out of the way then!”

“Sure, if you let the woman go.”

“What?”

“I saw you force a woman into your car.”

“It’s none of your business.” The man that had covered the woman’s mouth said, opening his window.

“Actually, it is,” the giant answered. His huge frame seemed to tower over the car, muscles bunched tightly against the fabric of his sweater; it must have been specially made, nobody would mass produce sweaters that size. He was a whole chest taller than the car. He looked like he could pluck it into the air if they tried to run him over. It was not just that he was oversized; he emanated an abnormal sense of power.

The woman could just about make out his face. His eyes were narrowed against the dazzling beam of the headlights. She did not recognize him.

“So, how about you let Ryoko Kitano go?”

She had been caught off guard; the giant had just called out her name.
Who the hell were these men, what did they want with me?

The moment he heard her name, the driver gunned the car forward. But the giant’s frame disappeared just as the car was about to smash into him. Something impacted the front windshield, and the driver’s view disappeared as the glass shattered, becoming opaque. The car screeched to a halt and a loud thud echoed from the roof. The driver looked into the rear-view mirror and let out a squeal. The gigantic man stood there with a smile on his face.

“Fucker!” The man considered what had happened. The giant had leaped up just as the car was about to hit him, then pushed off the front windscreen and the roof to land behind them. There was a sizable dent in the roof, only to be expected if that giant had landed on it. Two men got out of the car: the driver and the man that had grabbed Ryoko Kitano from inside.

“What do you want?” The driver took a step closer, but the giant moved first. He pulled his right hand from his pocket and slammed it down on the man’s neck, all without a word. The man collapsed, stiff as a pole. He had not even made a sound. The other man tried to run, but the giant grabbed him by the collar and hoisted him into the air, pulling him in until they were face to face. The giant’s strength was unbelievable. The man dangled in the air, a whole 30 centimeters off the ground. His toes were level with the giant’s shins. The giant’s black-gloved hands tightened around the man’s collar.

“Sorry to put you out like this. Tell me, which of you three is the boss?” The man pointed to the car as he gasped for breath. “Humph.” The giant laughed and chucked the man to the side. The man’s head made a painful-sounding thump as it smacked backward into the asphalt. The giant walked over to the car and tapped a finger against the backseat window.

“Hand the girl over.” His voice resonated through the air. The car doors were locked.

“D..don’t come any closer. Try anything and she gets hurt, okay?” The man’s voice was shaking. He had a mountain knife in his hand. The woman looked pale. The giant glared in through the glass window.

“That’s the spirit.” His thick lips formed a menacing smirk. The raw sense of power was on a different scale than the man with the knife.

“G..go home! If you don’t--”

“Hah! You’ll what?”

“I’ll knife her.”

The giant rocked with genuine laughter. “Fine. But in return I’ll rip off your ears and nose. Then, I’ll make you eat them. I look forward to hearing how they taste.”

“I’m not messing around!” The man readied the knife across the pale skin of Ryoko Kitano’s throat.

“Do what you want, as long as she’s still able to talk.” The roof of the car exploded with sound; the giant was hammering his fists into it. The man’s throat was stuffed with a scream.

The giant continued to pound the roof. The attacks were relentless, like an avalanche of boulders, then they stopped. The giant was peering into the car, grinning. The door suddenly flew open. The giant’s thick hand flew inside and wrapped itself around the wrist the man held the knife in.

The man screamed like a girl. The giant wrenched him clean out of the car before speaking to the woman. “Come on out.” She clambered out, watching him with confusion. “Good work opening the locks there. I was about to try smashing the window.”

“You didn’t think he’d stab me?” she asked the giant, her face still pale.

“As I said, I didn’t mind as long as you could speak.” Ryoko gaped in stunned silence. “A joke... I knew he wouldn’t go through with it.” Still holding the man by the wrist, the giant pressed a finger into the base of his neck. The man’s body went immediately limp. The giant cast the man over his shoulder. He walked a few paces before turning back to face Ryoko Kitano. “It’ll be best if you don’t go back to your apartment for a while. There’ll be more of these guys coming.”

“What’s this all about?”

“If you want answers, go back to your room and get ready to leave for a few days. Then come with me.”

“How can you guarantee I’ll be safer with you than with these guys?” she asked, staring into the giant’s eyes.

“A good question. And I have no intention of making that guarantee.” He smiled. There was danger in his smile; a ferocity that could not be hidden. If it was not for that, she suspected that smile would steal the hearts of most women.

“If you decide not to come with me, I still need an hour of your time tonight. I have some questions about Yoichi Munakata. Either way, you should get out of your apartment. You need to sell it and move somewhere safe.” Ryoko did not know how to reply. “So, what’ll it be?”

“I’ll come with you.” The mention of Munakata’s name had strengthened her resolve.

“I’m parked just up from here, a white Bluebird. Come when you’ve made your arrangements.”

As he was walking away, Ryoko Kitano called out to the giant, “I forgot to ask your name.”

“Senkichi, Senkichi Fuminari,” he said levelly before continuing on his way.

2

The Bluebird pulled out.

Ryoko Kitano was in the passenger seat across from Fuminari. The hostage was in the trunk. She had changed into jeans and a roughly knit summer sweater. The coarseness of the design matched his. He figured she had chosen it for that very reason.

She had turned up with a single, slightly oversized travel bag. Fuminari had only needed to wait for 20 minutes. She was smart, she had probably used the time to make a few calls, get changed, and pack everything she needed. Fuminari doubted that most women finding themselves having to leave home with some guy they had never met would be able to get all that done in just 20 minutes, but Ryoko had managed it. Something about her reminded him of Kumiko. “Hmm.”

Ryoko caught Fuminari smiling. “What?” she asked.

“Oh, nothing. Just thinking of a woman I used to know.” A shock of pain seared through Fuminari’s left hand as he gripped the steering wheel, the ghosts of his missing fingers, illusory pain. The itch was a constant reminder that they were gone. Fuminari scratched at them, massaging the glove as if they were still there. Somehow, it helped lessen the pain.

“Where are we going?” the woman asked.

“Hakone. I rented a house. You’re free to bunk there for a while if you don’t have any other options. You’ll be able to get on with your work, too.”

“Work?”

“You’re a designer, right? I assume you can’t just stop working without getting shit.”

“It’s okay, I just finished up a big project, we actually had the wrap party today. I did have a couple of flyer jobs, but I canceled them. It’ll be a hassle for my sponsor, but I’d been thinking of getting out of those for a while anyway. Worked out quite well, I guess.” The woman was decisive. She stopped talking and sat in silence. It felt as though she was silently urging Fuminari to say something.

After a while, they merged onto the Tomei Expressway. Fuminari followed it until Gotenba; he was going to use the Otome Road to Sengokubara. “When was the last time you saw Munakata?” he asked.

“The night of the 4th of July,” Ryoko said. The 4th of July, the last day Fuminari had spoken with him. They had been in contact over the phone earlier that afternoon; Ryoko had met him after.

“How do you know Munakata?” she asked.

“I’d asked him to do a job for me, but lost contact a couple of weeks back. The last time we spoke was on July 4th, after lunch.”

“Same as me.”

“You spoke to him last. You said you met up at night. Were you together until the 5th?”

“Yes”

“Did he give you anything to keep hold of?”

“To keep hold of?”

“A memo perhaps, a photograph, anything. Ring any bells?”

“I don’t think so.”

“You were lovers, right?”

Ryoko was silent for a while before speaking again. “Not in the strictest sense. We had a physical relationship. We were pretty fond of each other, but I don’t think we were lovers. Maybe you’d say otherwise. We had, you know, an
adult
relationship.”

“Either way, you were one of Munakata’s only friends, male or female.”

“So it seems. But I don’t remember him giving me anything in particular.”

“Right.”

“Let me get this straight, both you and the guy in your trunk came looking for this thing that you think he might have given me?”

“Pretty much.”

Ryoko turned to face him. “Does it have something to do with ‘Panshigaru’?” she said slowly, putting emphasis on the word.

“Yes, exactly. How do you know the name?”

“He had mentioned it.”

“What did he say?” Fuminari’s tone took on a harsh edge.

“Um, hang on...yeah that’s right, I remember!” Ryoko said, the pitch of her voice rising.

“You remember what?”

“You wanted to know if he’d left me anything.”

“You remember something?”

“Possibly. But it wasn’t something he left me, not exactly. He forgot something in my room,” she said.

“What?”

“A pamphlet for some religious cult, a booklet-type thing.”

“What was its name?”

“Right, let’s see...the L.L.S. The Life and Light School.”

“Where is it now?”

“I’d like to tell you it’s in my room, but it’s not. Not anymore.”

“What happened to it?”

“I don’t know. It was stolen I think.”

“What do you mean, stolen?”

“Someone broke into the apartment while I was out. Messed up the whole place. They took 30 thousand yen in cash and a camera. That was when the pamphlet went missing.”