The Psyche Diver Trilogy: Demon Hunters

by Baku Yumemakura

  “Not particularly,” Biku answered. Then, seeming to remember something, he continued. “Now you mention it, we haven’t been able to get in touch for a few days now. Your people have done something to her.”

  Iba grinned, snake-like. “She screams well, that kid,” he said.

  Biku smiled, as though he had put together the parts of a puzzle. “So that’s why!”

  “If you let us go, we could give her back to you.”

  “Such a shame. She was a nice girl.” Iba ground to a halt. “It seems like you’ve gone to a lot of effort, but I’m afraid there’s no deal. If you were to answer all of my questions first, of course, things would be different,” Biku said flatly.

  Iba clicked his tongue in frustration and looked away. Just as he did, something sharp and metallic sparked through the room. Biku ducked instantaneously. Something grazed the air above his head; a narrow-bladed knife impaled the floor. Knives continued to flash through the air.

  Iba had fallen backward, taking the chair with him. Hosuke took refuge in the shadows of the bed. One of the knives struck Iba in the shoulder. The other man remained still. Another knife had buried itself in his throat, his jaw hung slack. The four knives that had flown through the window had fanned out in a clean arc, each targeting one of the four men. Something moved outside the window, a massive black shadow; they were 80 meters above ground level. It streaked upward, vanishing off to the right.

  Hosuke raced to the window and peeled his eyes in the direction it had gone. An oddly formed black shape adhered itself to the building’s wall. It advanced with a crawling motion, spider-like in its movements. It left a sinister-looking black smog in its wake; the gas caught in the wind, buffeting Hosuke’s face, 80 meters above the cityscape of the night. The surface of the building wall was meshed with small grooves, the blocks jutting a few millimeters out. The edges were the only means to gain purchase against the wall.

  “Is it him?” Biku asked, poking his head out after Hosuke. The black shadow was heading toward the roof another 30 meters above them, moving with almost preternatural speed.

  “Awesome!” Hosuke could not help but smile. “Do me a favor and wait here,” he said to Biku, “I’m going after it.”

  Hosuke climbed out and took hold of the wall. The night wind ruffled through his hair as it blew up in eddies from the ground below.

  “It’s about time I had some fun,” Hosuke called out excitedly, like a kid that had discovered some exciting game. He shuffled up, following the contours of the wall, giving chase to the dark shadow.

  5

  The dark shape ascended the wall like an oversized, venomous spider.

  It moved with free-flowing, sinuous gestures. Hosuke followed behind, just five meters below it. The slightest lapse of concentration would send him plummeting 80 meters into the concrete below; he would explode like blood-soaked mincemeat. Instant death. Fall headfirst and it would be near impossible to distinguish even a parent and child from the resulting mess--not a pleasant way to go. The block-shaped protrusions in the wall lent the only grip, and they projected no more than three millimeters. No-one could scale the wall without extraordinary confidence and reserves of brute strength.

  Newspapers often run stories of practiced climbers scaling skyscrapers in New York, Tokyo, and other cities, but in almost every case the climbers kept tools they could use in an emergency or to rest with. They also wear purpose-built climbing boots with spikes. Hosuke was barefoot and bare chested to boot. And he had no climbing gear.

  But the same was true of the dark form that moved ahead of him. Its bulk was greater than Hosuke’s; it would need even greater strength in its arms. It was hard to conceive of such power. World-class climbers can support their entire bodyweight with two fingers on just a few millimeters of jutting rock. Hosuke and the dark shadow were exhibiting equal, or greater, skill. The feat necessitated huge reserves of strength and, moreover, an almost exquisite sense of balance.

  The wind pounded against Hosuke’s naked chest as he hung 90 meters above the ground. It felt good, his first taste of freedom in a while provided him with a thrilling surge of adrenalin. At the same time, he was managing to close the gap between himself and the creature, albeit gradually.

  The creature came to a sudden halt. It had picked up on Hosuke’s pursuit. It peered down, regarding him over its shoulder. Hosuke saw its eyes flash briefly, piercing through the darkness. The creature looked back up, as though disregarding Hosuke’s presence. It began to pick up speed. In the time the creature had been still, Hosuke had narrowed the gap between them to less than two meters. He was positioned horizontally aside it, a body’s width apart.

  They were even closer together by the time they reached the lip of the roof, but neither was in a position to attack. Being close enough to attack meant they were close enough to grab each other. The first to loose their footing would grab the other and they would both fall, smashing into the concrete together. Whoever reached the roof first would gain an overwhelming advantage. That was what they were both aiming for.

  They touched the edge of the rooftop with almost perfect synchronicity. The dark shadow swung in like a pendulum, one of its long legs soared up toward Hosuke from below. Hosuke silently kicked off the wall. The creature’s attack shot through the space between him and the wall like a tornado. From his swinging position, Hosuke used all the strength in his arms to vault up, he somersaulted once and landed feet first on the roof.

  The creature loomed before him as a red light flickered above, a flashing reminder of the building’s height. The two bodies were bathed in its glow. Hosuke was naked from the waist up; the black creature was in dark gray clothing fit tightly around its frame. An animalistic ferocity swelled from its enormous bulk, visceral enough to almost tear through its clothes. The feeling was like a swarming cloud of deadly insects.

  The black creature launched a series of attacks in quick succession. Its technique was peculiar, belonging to no particular style, more animal than human. The timing and angles of attack were warped somehow, they flowed with unnatural rhythm. Each attack brought with it the visceral sense that the creature was something human that had been forcibly perverted; the feeling punched at him like high-pressured pockets of air.

  A number Chinese martial arts schools are built around the movements of animals and insects like the monkey or the praying mantis--but even then the schools maintain a fundamental regard for the natural structure and rhythm of the human body. The black shadow’s technique was in clear violation of these principles; it fought like a beast.

  So far Hosuke had managed to dodge each attack successfully. The creature was unable land a single blow. Hosuke had yet to launch a single attack.

  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.