Rising among the crowd had been a cross with a woman hanging from it; she had been crucified upside down. Her head had been hacked off.
Where could the man have witnessed such a thing? The scene was bizarre. Hosuke could have dug for more information if he had the luxury of time, but the accident forced a stop. Somebody had broken into the power room and destroyed the generator mid-dive. Backup systems were designed to come online in the case of a regular power outage, but they had been destroyed together with the power room. The result was a break down of the synchronization between the three minds. The recipient did not make it, simply dying from shock.
It would have felt like suddenly being invaded by a foreign body. Stab wounds often end up killing their victim for reasons other than blood loss or the wound itself. In a surprising number of cases, the cause of death is identified as shock--the shock of having something thrust into their body. People can die from sudden exposure to icy water, and the mind is the same. The effect is equivalent to someone in mid-surgery coming to with no anesthetic.
The man’s instinct had transformed from a baby into a demonic creature, shifting from protection to attack; it had been the man’s final struggle. Hosuke and Kagawa had survived while the man died, but Kagawa would never work as a Diver again. He had been inside the man’s mind for too long, and the power shutdown had taken its own, sizable toll.
Hosuke had finished his report just a day before. He had precious little to work with, but managed to put something useful together nonetheless. The rest was up to the technicians and their computers. Hosuke did not expect them to uncover any significant leads. Still, there’s a fair amount of clinically interesting stuff in there.
The woman let out a high-pitched moan and leaned into him as the inner-walls of her vagina contracted powerfully. Ah, missed the boat. Hosuke grinned sardonically, scratching at his head.
“Not yet, right?” The woman’s breath was labored; the muscles on her back clenched tight. Shivers ran through her body twice, three times.
“Nope.” Hosuke shook his head, impressed with her candidness.
“What do you think of my body?” she asked. “You don’t like it?”
“I do,” Hosuke murmured.
“Mmm!” the woman moaned again. Hosuke’s still hard cock had twitched inside her. A look of pleasant surprise crossed her features; the movement must have been significant.
“See?” Hosuke broke into an impudent grin. His white teeth flashed like those of a wild beast. The woman rubbed her breasts into his chest and began to gyrate her hips again, rubbing her crotch into him.
“I want you to come with me this time.” Her voice pitched high before she could finish the sentence.
“Uh, sure.” Hosuke nodded as she picked up speed. The woman was already beginning to feel that she could be open with this man, even though they had only met earlier that evening. He was not handsome per se, but he had a charm that made him easy to be around. Biku had organized the visit. After Shimizu had taken Hosuke to his hotel room he had come back with her in tow.
It was, in a sense, contractual that he sleep with the girl. Biku seemed to have a number of girls at his disposal like Yuko and the girl with him now. Biku had said that he was unable to get in touch with Yuko, so he sent this girl around in her place.
Hosuke came inside her. A short while later, the phone started to ring. He reached out and picked up the receiver while she lay still on top of him. It was an external call.
“Mr. Kumon?” It was a deep male voice, one that Hosuke recognized. “I wonder if you remember me, we met a few days ago in the mountains.” It was Iba. He had half expected it. Like Biku, Iba had brought his own offer when they met that night.
2
“I remember you, scum,” Hosuke said.
“We’ve been looking all over. I finally tracked you down,” said Iba.
“How did you find me here?”
“You finished your contract with the other party?”
“Two days ago.”
“Then I’d like to ask you to consider a job with us.”
“First, answer my question then we can talk, alright?”
“Question?”
“Like I said, how the hell did you find out I was here?”
Iba fell silent, a moment later he spoke again, “We scrubbed the known locations of Psyche Converters.”
“Ah.”
“As I’m sure you’re aware, there are only a few models even here in Japan. That is especially true for the more advanced ones.”
“Uh huh.”
“We got wind that one of the more advanced models had been rented out, room and all, so we looked into it further and there you were.”
“That information was supposed to be confidential.”
“We have some useful connections, of course.”
“And I’m sure you don’t hold back from using threats either.”
“Indeed,” Iba said brazenly.
“Well, I guess your skills qualify you,” Hosuke mumbled.
“Humbled, I’m sure,” Iba said with only the slightest change in tone. “If I may continue with our offer.”
“Spit it out then.”
“Would you be willing to work for us?”
“Well my friend,” Hosuke said brightly, “that depends on the money.”
“Yes.”
“How much will you pay?”
“How much would you take us on for?”
“Depends on the job description.”
“It’s a bit detailed for the phone.”
“I see.”
“We’re in the lobby. If it isn’t too much trouble, could we just come to your room?”
Hosuke brushed his thick fingers through the hair of the woman still lying on top of him. “I’m a little preoccupied right now.”
“A little fun?”
“Just finished, you know?”
“Perhaps we should try again tomorrow?”
“No, it’s fine. Give me 30 minutes then come up,” Hosuke said, replacing the receiver.
3
Iba entered the room with another man in tow.
He was dressed in a pair of new navy-blue trousers and a short sleeve pinstripe shirt. His hair had been neatly combed; he even had a tie. If it was not for the look in his eyes, he could have been an insurance salesman, but no amount of smiling could help conceal that scent or the daggers in his eyes; they were cold, like a reptile about to pounce on its prey. The other man wore a light summer suit and carried himself in the same way as Iba. Iba scanned the room, smiling self-consciously for a brief moment.
“I’d half expected you to arrive with a suitcase,” Hosuke said. He sat on the bed, still naked from the waist up. He wore a pair of faded jeans. He had nudged a window open to clear the smell of sex from the room; a warm breeze flowed in. The outside air felt good.
“I find the less we stand out the better, especially in places like this.” Iba sat himself on one of the chairs. He glanced to his companion and made some kind of gesture. “If you don’t mind.”
The man walked over to the bathroom and swung the door open, peering cautiously inside.
“Relax, there’s no-one here. I sent the girl home.”
Iba turned the chair to face Hosuke, while the other man came back and stood behind him. Hosuke watched the two of them, silently amused.
“There’s something I’d like to ask before we commence with today’s main business,” Iba said.
“Go ahead.”
“Could you tell us what it was you were doing for the others?”
“I’m afraid not.”
“I only ask because of what happened in the mountains. It left us...interested about exactly what it was they wanted of you. Either way, you appear to have finished earlier than expected.”
“Yes, there was an accident.”
“Accident?”
“Someone snuck into the power room, blew the generators.”
“Well well.”
&n
bsp; “Now you’re here, I can’t help but feel like your people were responsible.”
“I assure you, that is not the case.”
“Well, whatever. It’s done now.”
“Could you tell us what the job was?”
“I already told you, no. Let’s hear your proposal.” Hosuke drew his legs up so that he sat cross-legged on the bed. The two men glared at each other.
“We want you to dive into something,” Iba offered.
“Something?”
“That’s right.”
“Not a person?”
“Indeed,” Iba left it at that.
“And?”
“Until we’re convinced you’re safe, I can’t go into any more detail. We can, however, go into significant detail in regard to your compensation.”
“Safe huh? A dead body’s the safest, the least likely to talk, no?” One side of Hosuke’s thick mouth meandered into a grin. Iba’s definition of safe would first be to bring him under their control then dispose of him once he finished the contract; with that knowledge they were free to offer all the money he demanded.
“We’re not going stay friendly if you try to kill me after the job,” Hosuke added with an air of innocence, neither fully joking nor serious.
“The thought would never cross our minds.”
“Fine, you guys just have that look and I’m not fond of complications. Tell me what the job is.”
“I don’t have the authority to tell you.”
“But it’s clear enough that you know.” Iba kept his mouth shut. He gave Hosuke a faint, chilling grin. The expression mirrored the sharpness of his dagger-like eyes.
“You’re a good negotiator. I have to be careful to keep quiet, wouldn’t want to say anything without realizing it.”
“Hm.” Hosuke scratched his head.
“We’ve been under pressure recently; if you were to refuse our offer then--”
“Then you’d resort to force to get what you wanted.”
Iba smiled wryly. “Mr. Kumon, it appears that you prefer things to be as direct as possible.”
“I guess so.”
“Then please accept my apologies for having to rush you.” Iba raised a hand, gesturing to the man behind him. The man pulled out a gun. There was a silencer mounted to the barrel; it would reduce the force by half, but in a small room like this the weapon would be deadly enough. He leveled it at Hosuke. His aim was steady, no hint of hesitation, fingers poised and ready to pull the trigger if necessary; the man obviously had experience with guns, unlike the punks Iba had back in the mountains. It seemed that Iba’s partners had been bumped up a grade after the death of the last two.
“There you go with the violent stuff,” Hosuke said, unimpressed.
“It makes things so much easier, don’t you think?” Iba said, standing up.
“Much appreciated.”
“Shall we go?”
“Can I at least put on some clothes?” Hosuke got off the bed and bent down to pick up his shirt from the floor. The man with the gun walked to the edge of the bed, keeping his eyes trained on Hosuke.
“Don’t try anything funny,” he spoke for the first time. In that moment his legs buckled and he collapsed backward. There was a smart, painful thud as the back of his head smashed into the wall.
“What the fuck?” Iba screamed. A man stood up from the other side of the bed, not the man with the gun. In his place was a man with pretty, almost feminine features, smiling elegantly. His hair hung in gentle waves over his forehead. It was Biku. He held the gun that had been in the other man’s hands. “You!”
“Long time no see,” Biku said coolly.
4
“Couldn’t you have been a little more careful?” Hosuke complained to Biku from his position on the bed.
Biku was playing with the gun. There was a hole through the shirt in Hosuke’s hands. He sighed loudly, poking a finger through it. The man managed to get off a shot as he collapsed; the bullet had gone straight through the fabric.
“Sorry, it’s not so easy to do this stuff from under a bed.” Iba and the gunman were sat in chairs facing them, feet bound to the legs of the chairs. Their hands had been wrapped behind them, tied to the backs of the chairs. They sat in silence, expressionless. The man that hit his head on the wall as Biku swept his legs from under the bed appeared to be concussed. “Where should we start?” Biku said.
“It’s pretty obvious that these are the guys responsible for blowing up the Psyche Converter,” Hosuke said, tossing the shirt away. “How did you know we’d come here?” Iba asked.
“Honestly, we didn’t. We just had a hunch, that’s all.”
Iba looked stunned.
“So, let’s see... You were worried we were going to get some useful information from your guy, so you destroyed the power room. He died from shock as you had hoped, but it was too early to rest on your laurels. Naturally, you would want to find out exactly how much information Mr. Kumon here had retrieved during the dive. Natural, again, that you would attempt to make contact some point after the job was done.”
“So you set a trap.”
“We even went to the trouble of bringing in a girl for Mr. Kumon to create the appearance that he had finished his contract, but to have it go this smoothly! We couldn’t have hoped. Even better that we get to see a familiar face such as yours.”
Iba bit into his lip.
“We have so many questions. Let’s see: where is the item, why did you steal it, what is your organization, why do you require Mt. Kumon’s services? How about we answer those in order.”
“What item?”
“Oh come now. You don’t look like the type to have been kept in the dark.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Well, I’ve been told by the mountain not to go blurting this out, but I’ll make an exception in your case. The item in question is the mummified body of Kukai.”
“Never heard of it.”
“It would be inconvenient for you if you hadn’t. The mountain would most surely punish me if they found out I’d let that slip to someone that knew nothing.”
Iba pinned his mouth shut. It wasn’t that he was sulking, he had likely been forbidden to talk about it. The man’s silence turned out to be formidable; his resolve greater than that of a normal person. From that point forward he remained totally silent, regardless of Biku’s line of questioning.
“It seems we have no alternative. To paraphrase you from earlier, we need to implement a more direct approach.” Biku smiled as he spoke; he removed the bullets from the gun and emptied the powder out of the cartridges with practiced technique. The gunpowder collected into a small mountain on the table. Biku walked around to the back of the chairs and freed one arm of each man. “Put your hands out,” he said. The two men silently rested their free hands on the table. “Your nails are the longest,” Biku said to the gunman, still smiling. There was something nightmarish about the tone of his voice. He bound Iba’s hand back to the chair and turned to face Hosuke, who until now had enjoyed watching events from his place on the bed. “Mr. Kumon, could you please hold this man’s hand firmly to the table?”
“Uh huh.” Hosuke tipped his head to Iba and the man in turn before getting off the bed, as he would to friends. Then he used both hands to clamp the man’s hand to the table, as Biku had asked. The man clenched his fingers tight, forming a fist. Biku slammed the butt of the gun down. There was a dull crunch, the sound of bones breaking.
“Spread your fingers.” The man slowly opened his fingers. The pain was making it hard for him to move them properly. The top of his hand was red with blood. The man stifled an agonizing moan in the back of his throat. Thick beads of sweat collected on his forehead.
“That is what happens if you don’t comply with my requests.” Biku began to pile gunpowder onto the man’s fingernail as the others watched on. The man already knew what Biku was about to do; all color had drained from his face. Biku finished and pu
lled a lighter out. He lit the flame with a look of anticipation. “Still don’t feel like talking?” Biku asked, beaming as he held the flame before the man.
A pimple-sized bead of sweat glistened at the crest of the man’s nose as Biku inched the flame toward the man’s little finger. A red flash burst from the tip with a loud pop, the flame went out immediately. The man let out a wail, unable to hold back. The room filled with the sharp tang of gunpowder smoke and burnt flesh. Biku grabbed the man’s finger and began to bend it gradually back toward the top of the man’s hand. There was a thin sound like the snapping of dried twigs under cloth. The noise was repulsive.
“We will do them in order until we reach your thumb; do let me know the moment you feel ready to talk,” Biku said, his voice soothing.
Biku looked ravishing, he stood there without a single drop of sweat on his features. He was like an innocent young girl playing with a doll, as though he somehow lacked the empathic ability to feel the man’s pain. Blood trickled from the man’s mouth; he had bitten his lip from the pain. His face was a mask of agony, in stark contrast to Biku. It was appalling.
“Shall we move onto the next one?” Biku asked coolly.
Someone called out when he finished with the man’s middle finger. It was Hosuke, he had released the man’s hand and was frowning. “It’s no good.” He scratched at his scalp. “I don’t mean to complain to my benefactors and all, but I don’t dig this approach.” Hosuke’s eyes returned to the man’s hand on the table. Three of his fingers were singed purple; they had been snapped back until they pointed upward. It was grotesque.
“I thought it was pretty sound,” Biku replied.
“Can’t we just do it like regular punks?”
Biku extinguished the flame. Iba, silent until that point, suddenly opened his mouth. “You, Biku.”
“What can I do for you?” Biku turned to face him.
“There was a girl in and out of your place, right?”
“A girl?”
“The little girl, not even 20.”
“You mean Yuko.”
“Do you know what she’s doing now?”
The Psyche Diver Trilogy: Demon Hunters Page 15
