The Psyche Diver Trilogy: Demon Hunters (8 page)

“I had a feeling it would be you,” Biku said, still seated.

“We meet again,” Iba replied, quietly intimidating. Yajima and Hiroshi smiled threateningly at his sides, eyes watering with excitement.

“I thought I could smell something good. Look who it’s led us to.” Hiroshi chuckled.

“I assume the other gentleman is Hosuke Kumon?” Iba asked.

Hosuke nodded.

“Perfect. I suspected this one would beat us to it. Well, we may have missed you during our first introductions, but we’re all here now. I couldn’t bear the thought of you leaving with this guy first, had me in a cold sweat. Looks like searching through the night paid off after all.” He seemed to know that Biku had been looking for Hosuke.

“Let me guess, you followed the two hikers,” Biku said.

Iba said nothing, his silence confirmation enough. They had probably tracked the two hikers down and ambushed them. Iba had suspected Biku the whole time, which is why they had given up so easily before; their plan had been to wait for him to leave, pick up the other two, and question them; the two hikers would tell them Biku was looking for the same man. Biku found it hard to imagine that they had just let them go. He imagined the appalling scene, the two men tormenting the woman again.

“What did you do with them?”

Hiroshi and Yajima grinned sadistically.

“You killed them.” They were silent.

“Anyway,” Iba said, addressing Hosuke, “have the two of you come to an agreement?”

“An agreement?”

“It would seem not.” Iba grinned. The man and woman behind him seemed to be hanging back, observing. The huge man’s aura was abnormal somehow. Even standing still his cells generated so much energy that it felt like he might explode any minute. It was hard to imagine anyone being able to withstand the full extent of his power.

“It seems that the fact I found him first isn’t going to count for anything.” Biku sighed.

“This is fun.” Hosuke Kumon nodded as though he had finally worked it out. “You’re all here to ask me to dive, right?”

“Right,” Iba said.

“Well, if it’s work we’re talking about, it’ll come down to the cash.” Hosuke was suddenly full of bravado. “It depends on how much you offer, I’ll go with the highest bidder. It’s pretty clear the job’s not going to be on the level. Not if you’ve come looking for me.”

“I’ll double what they offer,” Biku said.

“Same here, we’ll double whatever he says,” Iba replied without hesitation.

“Hah! Excellent,” Hosuke said. He turned to Biku, then Iba and the two behind him. He smiled, showing white teeth behind his thick lips. “We’re not going to settle this with money, then.”

Biku and Iba gave him a puzzled look.

“A fight it is,” Hosuke said quietly. “Whoever wins gets the job. It’s going to come to that anyway, right?”

Biku winced. Hosuke was full of surprises, but his logic was sound. He had never expected the matter to be settled through civil discussion. Biku had tested Hosuke, and now Hosuke was testing him.
Decided
.

“Well, shall we?” Biku got to his feet. Hiroshi and Yajima scattered off to the side, leaving Iba standing alone. Knives glinted in their hands. “You could all come at once?” Biku said, testing to see if the two behind Iba would react. They were still. “Holding back for the main event I see.”

“Quite the clown,” Iba said.

“Time for revenge.”

“We won’t go as easy on you this time.” At the same time, Hiroshi and Yajima crouched low. Hiroshi’s cheeks trembled with nerves.

“Time for the prelude.” Biku launched himself forward, moving with an easy, birdlike rhythm. He streamed forward, liquid smooth. Hiroshi stood before him, while Yajima circled to the rear. Yajima flung himself at Biku from behind, screeching like a bird. Biku’s frame blurred to the side and Yajima charged right through him collapsing in a stumbling heap at Hiroshi’s feet. He stopped moving. Biku had tapped the base of his hand against the back of Yajima’s skull, holding back most of his strength. He held Yajima’s knife in his hand. Biku had been blindingly fast.

Hiroshi’s eyes were bloodshot. “Y...you..you!” He choked on the words. He pitched wildly forward, targeting Biku. Biku exhaled, smooth and sharp. He sidestepped before kicking up, connecting with Hiroshi’s arm holding the blade. There was a sound like the snapping of a dead branch. Hiroshi stopped, bolt upright, staring at his arm with disbelief; it bent at a grotesque angle between the wrist and elbow, bone jutting out. The knife he had planned to plunge into Biku’s chest was now being held directly under his nose. He crumpled to the floor and began to scream.

“Mah...my fucking arm!” He thrashed in the grass wailing in agony. His face had turned purple and swollen as though he had been poisoned.

Iba burst into motion. He sounded off as he flew into the air aiming a deadly roundhouse at Biku’s head. The height was phenomenal considering he was in hiking boots. Biku ducked. The kick sliced through the air above his head cutting through a few strands of hair. A pocket of tightly packed air blew in its wake. Iba landed. Now it was Biku’s turn to attack, but Iba threw himself to the ground rolling two, three times, and then leaped into the bushes.

“Ok,” Iba’s voice sounded from behind the trees, “you’re too good for me.”

“Something wrong?”

“I’m bowing out now. I’m done fighting.”

“Sure,” Biku said, keeping an eye on the undergrowth Iba had jumped through. Iba pushed the grass aside and walked out. He was limping slightly with his right leg. Biku had struck it with the side of his hand as it passed over his head.

“If you can dodge that kick, I’ve got nothing else.” He had Yajima’s knife in his hand, the knife Biku had been holding. Biku had launched it at Iba as the man had tumbled into the bushes. “This thing came flying in too.”

“It seems I missed.”

“It flew right by my nose. Took a few years off.”

The knife was in the air before he even finished the sentence. The metal-white light hurtled directly toward Biku’s face. Biku casually tipped his head; the knife flew into the darkness behind him.

“Didn’t think it’d get you,” Iba said, his eyes a narrow line. There was something oddly playful about him despite having clearly thrown the knife with the full intent to kill. Iba crouched down, balancing on his toes. It seemed he still planned to fight.

Then something happened. The bear, the same one that had left them earlier, returned. It found Hiroshi first. It emerged a few meters ahead of the spot where he was crouched, still nursing his broken arm. His scream sounded like something was ripping his intestines out.

“B...bear! It’s a fucking
bear
!” He jumped to his feet squealing. His eyes were stretched wide, almost ready to pop out. Panic had pulled his face taut, legs and arms tangled as he struggled to find balance. Screaming and standing up cost him his life. The bear assumed his frenzy for its own, rearing up tall on its hind legs. It was spectacular, at least 150 kilograms. It swiped its front legs across Hiroshi’s head, cutting his scream dead. There was the sound of flesh and bone being crushed and a scattering of blood and chunks of brain matter. His head had deformed. The top half was gone completely. His death had been instantaneous. The bear roared again. The white, moon-shaped ring of fur around its neck was dyed red with blood. It geared up to charge at its next target, Biku.

Biku had picked one of the skewers from the ground. He held it in his right hand and in his left, a lit branch from the campfire. He prepared himself, holding the flaming branch toward the advancing creature. The hairs around the bear’s neck bristled. Its body looked to have swollen to double its original size. It charged.

Just as the bear was about to smash into him, Biku jumped gracefully into the air. The lit branch spun a red spiral of light in the dark. It collided with the trunk of a nearby silver fir, scattering a constellation of fiery motes. Biku somersaulted through the air landing neatly on all fours. The skewer he had in his right hand stuck out from the bear’s left eye, protruding at a sickening angle. Biku had stabbed it into the creature’s eye, using the fire to distract it.

The bear pawed at its face, howling in a crazed rage. The noise brought Yajima back to consciousness. The bear was right there in front of him. He screamed and got up to run, but the bear responded. Yajima picked up Hiroshi’s fallen knife and hurled it in a desperate attempt to stall the charging beast. It missed by a large margin; in the distance, it struck the shoulder of the woman dressed in black. As the bear attacked, Yajima raised his arms to protect his head from its front legs. His arm thumped to the ground, ripped off at the shoulder.

There was a roar louder than the enraged howling of the bear, a demented, bestial sound. The roar grew in intensity physically shaking the air across the darkness. The sound seemed to originate from the hulking dark giant that had been silently observing until this point. Biku watched as its body started to transform, its muscles bunched together, swelling over its frame. It jerked forward, back hunched, crooked and distorted, its head jutting out. Demonic eyes glared at the bear and Yajima. The transformation was astounding.

Hearing a roar to match its own, the bear reared up tall. The two giant beasts faced off. In terms of bulk they were an even match; the man looked about 150 kilograms, standing taller even than the bear. When the two bodies were about to clash, he spun behind the bear. His speed was dazzling, completely at odds with his massive frame, faster than this wild animal. The moment he was behind the bear he locked in a full nelson, threading his arms under the bear’s before bringing them back up and locking them behind its head. The man erupted in a visceral, quaking roar as he lifted the bear off the ground. His strength was incredible. Holding the bear suspended, he charged toward the trunk of a huge fir. There was a dull thud as the bear’s head connected with the tree. The man continued smashing in an insane frenzy, he had not stopped even as Biku counted into double figures. There was a thick crunch as the bear’s neck snapped; its head was a blooded pulp. It crumpled to the ground with a thump.

“Fuck!” this time Yajima was screaming. He staggered to his feet, using his hand to try and stem the blood gushing from his torn-off shoulder. The man turned beast stalked toward him, taking its time.

“Ss..somebody help me...it wasn’t on purpose...I didn’t mean to hit her!” the words came out as barely formed whimpers.

“Enough, Hanko!” the woman shouted, her voice shrill.

But the beast continued to advance. He placed a hand over Yajima’s head and wrenched it to one side. Yajima’s head snapped up. His mouth formed an empty scream as he stared at the sky. His body collapsed to the grass.

Hanko sped to the woman’s side. Iba had already stopped the flow of blood. Hanko scooped her into his arms.

“Unfortunately we’ll have to concede victory today,” Iba yelled.

Hanko loped away, the woman in his arms. His speed was incredible. Iba chased after them. They disappeared into the darkness leaving Biku and Hosuke standing among the scattered bodies of the bear and the two men.

Four

The Nightmare Hunter

1

A tiny sound accompanied the twisting of a doorknob in the dark.

The door opened a fraction and a dark shadow slipped through before closing again. The lock slid into place with a small metallic click. The shadow silently moved over thick carpet. There was a bed next to the window. The curtains were closed. Shafts of moonlight bled through the gaps of the fabric, casting a halo of pale incandescence around the bed. The blankets swelled toward the middle of the bed, someone was sleeping. It was Hosuke Kumon.

He was already aware of the intruder, having woken the moment the person arrived at the other side of the door. The intruder was silent, but he still could sense its presence; an amateur, it seemed like the intruder did not know how to conceal the tension of its presence in the air. Maybe it felt there was no need. To Hosuke, it was as if someone had walked into the room with a radio blaring, obvious if you knew how to read the signs.

The intruder was a woman, and it was clear that she meant him no harm. A faintly sweet scent permeated the air. She moved slowly, stealthily toward the bed. When she peered into Hosuke’s face she suppressed a giggle. She crouched on the carpet and snuck a hand under the sheets, reaching for his groin. Hosuke was naked. Her hand traced along his bare flesh.

“I don’t recall ordering a massage,” Hosuke said suddenly.

The woman hurriedly withdrew her hand. “Oh...you’re awake.”

“Woken
,
by you.”

He sat up and stuffed a hand into the ruffled mess of his hair, noisily scratching at his scalp. The sound filled the room as the dim light from the curtains revealed his face. His untended beard was gone, revealing a tough-looking square chin. He had a pug nose and thick lips; playful eyes poked out from under his hair. He was not handsome, but he did not lack charm; there was something attractive about him. The pug nose was a perfect fit with his bold features. Overall, the effect was well balanced, the kind of face you wanted to see smiling. Moonlight reflected in the woman’s eyes, glistening pools of black in the darkness, as she looked at him. The eyes harbored no apprehension. She was still young, wearing jeans, probably in her late teens. Her features maintained an air of innocence. It was just twelve days earlier that she had been in this same room face buried in Biku’s crotch.

“Your hair’s a mess,” she said, cocking her head to one side.

“I didn’t have a chance to dry it before bed,” Hosuke replied, combing his thick fingers through his hair. The mess was too much for his fingers to fix. “I did my best, but there you go.” He stopped fiddling with his hair and crossed his legs. The sheets covered him from the waist down but his upper body was bare. His chest was thick, almost as deep as his shoulders were wide. Heavy shadows fell between his muscles.

“You’re not going to ask why I came?”

“Would you tell me if I did?”

“Of course.”

“Why did you come here?”

“I wanted to wake you up.”

“Well, I’m fully awake now.”

“No, not like that.” She smiled, there was a naughty spark in her eyes. “I was talking about a particular part of you.” She slipped a hand under the blanket tracing a line to his crotch. “Mmmm...” her hand stopped, having found what it was looking for.

“As I said,
fully
,” Hosuke jibed, maintaining his playful expression. The young girl slowly wrapped her fingers around his hot, hardened penis, gauging its size.

“Wow,” her perfect lips cried with admiration.

“So tell me,” Hosuke said.

“Hmm?”

“No-one mentioned any fringe benefits. Did someone send you, or are you here on your own?”

“Well,
that’s
a little complicated,” the girl answered, still massaging him with her hand. “Someone told me there was a person I might find interesting here and suggested I try him out.”

“And that someone was Biku?”

“Yeah. He asked me if I wouldn’t mind sneaking in. He wanted to know how you like to sleep with your women.”

“Hmm.”

“He says you can judge most men by the way they treat women.”

“Interesting hobby he’s got there.”

“So, what do you think?”

“About what?”

“Want me?” The young girl flashed a cherubic smile.

“Hmm, that’s difficult.” He scratched his head. It seemed to be a habit.

“Really? Even with this?” The girl wrapped her soft hand over the tip of Hosuke’s penis, flicking her fingers delicately across the surface. Her technique, wherever she had learned it, suggested more experience than he had guessed by looking at her.

“That does make things awkward.”

“So, what’s holding you back?”

“I only sleep with two types of women: women I’ve paid for and women that are nuts for me.”

“I like you. Don’t you like me?”

“I don’t even know your name.”

“But I know yours. Ho-su-ke Ku-mon. You can call me Yuko. Hey, are you some kind of ethics freak?”

“Just a romantic, and I don’t feel like getting into debt with your boss.”

“I’m here of my own free will.” Yuko ducked her head under the sheets and took him into her mouth. He felt a warm moistness wrap itself around him. She let her mouth trace up and down his shaft, teasing it with the tip of her tongue.

“Fuck it,” Hosuke grumbled, making up his mind. There was something childlike about him. He tore the blanket off revealing Yuko, her mouth around him. “Take your clothes off.”

She looked up and smiled. The tip of his penis glistened in the soft light below her lips. She crawled onto the bed and got onto her feet, stripping off her clothes.

“It’s been a while, I’ve kinda forgotten how this goes. We’ll go once, then take our time as I start to get the hang of it again.” Hosuke pulled her in so that she straddled his face. Yuko pushed her hips forward, exposing her gently parted lips to him. Hosuke flicked his tongue over the surface, then further in. She let out a quiet moan and arched her hips, rubbing herself against him. She was already hot and moist. Her hips began to tremble. Her knees softened, ready to sink into the bed. Hosuke put his arms around her buttocks and lifted her onto him. He felt his engorged dick penetrate her warm lips.

“Mmm...” Yuko leant into him, rubbing her firm breasts against his chest. Hosuke roughly took them in his hands. Her nipples hardened under his touch.

2

Tokyo. The penthouse of an exclusive apartment building in Aoyama.

Hosuke Kumon sat facing an old man across a meticulously varnished, heavy-looking wooden table. The man appeared to be around 80 years old. The room exuded wealth. Everything, from the carpet to the sofa Hosuke sat on, had been imported, and it was all handmade, rare even for the showy offices of corporate juggernauts. Beyond the window was an expansive view of the city at night.

The view was stunning. The city glittered below them like a field of diamonds. It was nothing like the squalid, teeming junkyard that was the real city. The air-conditioned space was sectioned off from the cacophonous noise of the streets, the stench of sweat. It was witness only to glittering diamonds. Presiding over this view everyday would be enough to convince anyone they had achieved something.

The previous evening Hosuke had followed Biku out of the mountains and spent a night in the building. He spent some time enjoying the company of the young girl that snuck into his room in the middle of the night, Yuko, then slept until evening. His room was adjacent. When he woke, a suited man brought him a sumptuous meal. He devoured the food and took a hot shower, then the man delivered him here.

Biku had been waiting, immaculately dressed in a suit. The sense of formality seemed to further accentuate his beauty. Biku stood silently watching Hosuke and the old man from his position at the window.

Hosuke sat cross-legged in jeans, eyes trained on the old man. They had completed their introductions. The old man’s name was Enjaku. He was a Shingon monk from Mt. Koya. He was dressed in his official purple robes, apparently having changed after reaching the building. He seemed to hold a very high position at Mt. Koya. The way he carried himself, Hosuke would not have been surprised if he was the temple’s head monk.

“The situation is as I have outlined,” Enjaku repeated. He had already said this a number of times. He pronounced each syllable with distinct clarity and impressively so; he did not speak like an old man, but there was a stubborn formality to his speech. It carried a sense of grief. He looked deathly ill, skin parched and the flesh around his cheeks stretched. There was an ethereal glint in his eyes as though force of mind alone was keeping his anxiety-wracked body together. He sighed heavily, relaxing his hands, which had been clenched into fists on his knees.

The situation the old man referred to was the theft of something invaluable from the temple at Mt. Koya. A monk, Jichiei, had been the first to make the discovery, but he had been killed, his head wrenched backward by something with preternatural strength. They had found another man at the scene, physically unharmed but unconscious, most likely an accomplice. It was assumed that the others had abandoned him, maybe there had been an accident during the theft. This had all taken place at two in the morning on June 20, already over half a month ago.

“So, you’re telling me this man has yet to regain consciousness,” Hosuke said.

“Correct.” They wanted Hosuke to dive into the unconscious man’s mind so that he could dredge up his identity.

“Have you notified the police?”

“We have told them nothing.” Enjaku’s fists tightened. “We have no wish to make this public.”

“Why?”

“Because of the nature of the item stolen.”

“What was stolen?”

“I...” The old man’s face twisted in apparent conflict, “...we have not yet reached the point where I can reveal this to you.”

Hosuke was silent.

“We are prepared to discuss it further once you have accepted the job.”

Hosuke sighed. “Sounds fishy.”

He stroked his chin. He had shaved his beard clean off and even combed his hair; all traces of dirt from the mountains had been washed away. His 30 year-old features looked uncomfortable, like he missed the dirt now that it was gone. His thick chest gently rose and fell under a new cotton shirt. He seemed ill at ease in the room, but even more so inside his own clean body.

“You’re not really selling this very well.” Hosuke turned to look at Biku, still watching from his place at the window. He seemed content to stand back and let Enjaku carry the meeting. If anything, it looked like he was enjoying the proceedings.

“Mr. Kumon, please,” the old man entreated.

“It’s just...” Hosuke relaxed back into the sofa, releasing some of the tension from his shoulders. “...look, I hate all this secrecy crap. If you can’t tell me what was stolen, I can’t give you my answer.” He reached up and began to scratch his scalp. He had been resisting the urge the entire time. He ruffled his hair into a mess.

“If you do not deem the compensation sufficient, we are able to further increase the amount discussed.”

“That’s all well and good, but it’s not about the cash.”

Enjaku looked deflated.

“I mean...why me?” Hosuke sat up again, leaning forward. “I’m sure there are other people that would dive to your heart’s content, especially for the amount you’re offering.” Why had Biku gone to go to all that trouble to search for him that deep in the mountains? If the job was as simple as the old man made it seem, B or even C-grade Divers would suffice. Why had they gone to such lengths to seek out an unlicensed Diver?

“Actually,” the old man sucked in his cheeks, “we already sent someone in.”

“You what?”

“And”

“And?”

“He hasn’t returned.”

Hosuke raised an eyebrow.

“He is A-grade, Mr. Kumon, and he is still in there. I am sure you know what this means.”

3

Psyche Diver: A person who is able to send his or her own consciousness directly into another person’s mind to gather information; this can be used, for example, in the treatment of mental disease.

Anyone can dive into a human mind with the use of a Psyche Converter, but not everyone can retrieve useful information. Information in the human mind exists in a state of constant flux. It mutates and warps, merging with other chunks of data to leave an impression without meaning in any conventional sense. Depending on the mental state and character of the Diver and host, the same object can appear in an almost unlimited number of forms. The word ‘appear’ is used metaphorically, it would be more accurate to say the object takes on a feeling.

Imagine someone with no experience hunting or being outdoors asked to hunt for a specific animal in the mountains, a unique type of antelope, for example. Not just any antelope, but
this
antelope. The task would be next to impossible. If this example was transposed from the mountains to the mindscape of the human subconscious, there would no longer be any guarantee that the antelope would even resemble its original form. The hunter would be tracking a shapeless object with only fragments of awareness such as a day old footprint or some excrement as a guide. On top of that, a dive is much like injecting a foreign object into the host’s body. A tiny grain of sand forced into the flesh is enough to be painful and cause the immune system to react. Just like the skin, the same is true for the mind, it mounts resistance against intrusion. For this reason, Divers often face real, physical danger.