Three hours had passed since Fuminari hid himself in the trees. It was 11pm. The buzzing of summer insects vibrated in the air, the night breeze was uncharacteristically cool for July.
After another 30 minutes a car pulled up to the iron gates. A man in a suit got out. There was the sound of a door closing and the car moving forward, then the gates slid open, closing again soon after. The man emerged alone and began to walk toward the entrance of the house. When he opened the door, Fuminari Senkichi was already behind him.
Fuminari pushed the man’s back, sending him tumbling through the just-opened door; he had snuck behind with the agility of a jungle cat. Fuminari’s thick lips burgeoned into a smile, brandishing teeth as he closed the door behind him.
“Akio Ishibashi, correct?” he growled deeply.
Ishibashi looked momentarily stunned, but regained his composure with impressive speed. “And you might be?” he replied, voice steady.
“A man with a purpose,” Fuminari said.
“May I turn on the lights?”
“Go ahead. Try anything and I’ll beat you to an inch of your life.”
“Of course.” As he spoke Fuminari heard the click of a switch, and the entrance was suddenly bathed in light. Ishibashi was short, only 160 centimeters or so. Fuminari was probably double his weight. The man wore a light summer suit; his tie was fastened despite having been on his way home. He wore black, thick-rimmed glasses. His hair was trimmed short and parted cleanly to one side.
The man appeared intelligent, but Fuminari could tell it was just a facade, that just a layer beneath resided a devious snake. His appearance was that of any other businessman on the street, but the way he was handling the current situation separated him from that crowd.
“You’re a big guy,” Ishibashi said.
Fuminari wore a pair of black slacks and a black long-sleeve shirt. His shoes were black, so were the gloves on his hands. “Impressive composure. I’m starting to enjoy myself.”
“What do you want?” asked Ishibashi.
“I have a hunch you already know what I’m after.”
“Not a clue.”
“You know a guy called Ozaki?”
“Ozaki?” Ishibashi frowned, knotting his brow.
“Ozaki Yoshio. Don’t dick around.”
“Ah yes, of course, the private detective.”
“That’s better.”
“I have employed his services for our research a few times, it is only natural that I know his name.”
“By ‘services’, you mean kidnapping of course.”
“I’m sorry?”
“What other use would you have for a dead-end detective like Ozaki? You abducted the reporter Yoichi Munakata, and you attempted to abduct his friend, Ryoko Kitano.”
“Preposterous. He did these things?” Ishibashi’s play acting was impressive.
“Yeah, he did.”
“Even if it were true, it has nothing to do with me. It must have been something he took upon himself to do.”
“Hm.” Fuminari grinned, intrigued. He was suddenly right next to Ishibashi, towering above him. “I happened to hear this directly from Ozaki’s mouth.”
“Then you should have him testify in court. If you cannot, his words are all but meaningless, whatever the truth may be.”
“You can feign ignorance all you want, it makes no difference. We’ve got the whole night. I’ll make you confess, and I’ll take my time.”
“I will have you arrested for trespassing.”
“Go ahead, if you can, that is. Beside, I’m pretty sure you’re no fan of the cops yourself.” Fuminari pressed his hands into Ishibashi’s shoulders, slowly strengthening his grip. Ishibashi’s face contorted in pain. “I’m sure you like massages. I’ll rub you down until your bones creak.” Fuminari lifted Ishibashi by the shoulders and stepped up to the entrance hall. He kept his shoes on.
“Could you at least take your shoes off, perhaps?” Ishibashi’s voice finally began to tremble from the pain.
“Sorry, it’s a habit. I need to make sure I can run if I need to.” Fuminari sneered, drawing his face close to Ishibashi’s. He put him back on the floor.
Ishibashi removed his shoes and placed them in the alcove before turning back to Fuminari. He looked around 35, but his calm was disproportionate to his age. “If you want to talk I will listen. Would you care to join me in the study?” He started to walk ahead.
“Wait.” Fuminari grabbed Ishibashi’s arm and twisted it behind. “I’m an intruder in your house, I don’t know what you’ve got stashed. What if you’ve got a gun hidden somewhere? You don’t expect me to just let you wander about freely, do you?”
Ishibashi’s resilience was worthy of praise. Any normal person would have cried out in pain having their arm twisted like that, but there was not even a whimper.
“I can see it’s going to be a fun night.” Fuminari walked slowly down the corridor, keeping Ishibashi in front of him.
“Here we are, the study.” Ishibashi came to a stop in front of a heavy-looking wooden door.
“Turn on the lights, then open the door,” Fuminari said.
“They’re on the inside.”
“Then you’ll go in first, slowly. If you try anything funny I’ll break your neck.” Fuminari trailed Ishibashi as they entered the room. “Turn them on.” The moment he said the words Fuminari felt the hairs on the back of his neck prick up.
“Fuck!” Fuminari shouted as he jumped into a low squat. Ishibashi’s arm snapped with a nasty crunch. From his crouch Fuminari launched his left leg backward, it made a direct impact, his ankle smashed into someone’s chest, probably breaking a rib. The lights turned on at almost the exact moment the man’s body thudded to the floor. Three men stood apart from each other with guns trained on him. The other lay unconscious near the door.
“Looks like you got me,” Fuminari muttered. There was nothing he could do with three guns on him in close quarters. Even if they missed, they were positioned so they would have to be massively off target to hit one of their own.
“You would be smart to let me go. I have no value as a hostage. These men would not hesitate to kill both of us if the alternative was to lose you,” Ishibashi said, the pain had left him covered in a greasy sweat.
Fuminari sensed he was telling the truth. It was clear enough from their eyes, the way they stood guns ready. They had the same foul stench about them as Tsushima, the man whose arm he had broken when they had fought in Aoyama. Tsushima had attacked Fuminari with the full knowledge that he was sacrificing his arm. These men had the same look. The only question was whether they needed him alive.
If they wanted him dead, his only recourse was to fight for his life using Ishibashi as a shield. If they had lined up diagonally with Fuminari in the center, or if they all faced one direction, he would have a fighting chance. It would be the same as facing a single gunman. If they failed to get him with a fatal shot, he should at least be able to knock them down. Landing a fatal shot on a moving target is incredibly difficult.
But he could not do it from his current position. He would be taken down by two of the others while he was still busy with the first. The man that attacked Fuminari from behind had been nothing but a decoy to distract him from the gunmen.
I fell for their trap, he thought, but they’re not going to kill me straight away. If that was their plan they would have done it already. They only had to accept that they would hit Ishibashi too, and then sink bullets into both of them. They could finish the job once he was immobilized. Ishibashi would be injured in the process, but they did not look like they would care too much. No, they were planning to capture him, then force him to reveal why he was looking into them; only then would they kill him. That had to be it. Fuminari let Ishibashi’s hand go; he slowly rose to his feet. “Okay, you’ve got me.”
Ishibashi stood unsteadily, cradling his broken arm, he collapsed painfully back to the floor. Nobody moved to help. They were not going to give even a mome
nt’s window to Fuminari. They stood fast, guns on him. If they had showed even the slightest weakness, he had been ready to launch his counter-strike, but he could see it was not going to happen.
“Senkichi Fuminari, I assume.” Ishibashi was panting.
“I thought you might recognize me. Difficult to maintain a disguise when I’m built like this.”
“I heard that some ridiculous hulk had hauled Ozaki in. So it was only natural to expect you to show up here too.”
“So you set a trap.”
“At a number of places, not just here. My office and Toyama’s place as well.”
“Guess I slipped up.”
“You have been doing well, considering you’re working by yourself. Enoh is head over heels with you. He said he was hoping to have the chance to finish you off himself.”
“Enoh?”
“The old man you battled with not too long ago, in Aoyama.”
“Enoh...so that’s the old fruit’s name.”
Ishibashi got up and walked to the desk near the window, still shaky on his feet. He took the phone in his good hand and sandwiched it between his shoulder and neck. He dialed a number, panting heavily. The three men kept their guard up the whole time.
“Fuminari is with us. We will drive him to the agreed location now,” Ishibashi said briefly before replacing the receiver.
“Taking every precaution,” Fuminari said.
“We just pay proper respect to the strength of the body. After all, we have people like Enoh on our side. He warned us to be very cautious around you, you have him to thank for the three gunmen here. Enoh was waiting for you at my office. He will be quite disappointed to find out that we got you instead.”
They heard a car pull up outside. Two men came in. When they blindfolded him, Fuminari began to regret his decision.
Maybe I should have tried to take them down while I had Ishibashi. They bundled him into the car. It pulled away without pause.
It felt as though he was being driven into the depths of darkness.
4
Fuminari was ushered into a chair, hands tied behind him.
They had driven for close to an hour before arriving at this place. He had no idea where they were. All he knew was that he had been led into a building and then into a room inside the building... And that he was tied up. They had used a climbing rope to tie him; no human strength would be enough to tear it apart.
After 30 minutes of being left alone, he sensed a few people enter the room. The people lifted him, together with the chair. They were going to carry him to another room. When they put him down again he felt the presence of a larger group of people around him. Someone removed his blindfold.
Fuminari scowled, blinking at the sudden light. He was in a western-style room of some grand house. Eight people sat off to one side where there were some sofas and tables. Standing among them he saw the three men that had trained guns on him earlier. Ishibashi was nowhere to be seen, he had probably been rushed off to the hospital. Apart from the three men, Fuminari recognized another face: Enoh.
Enoh sat cross-legged on the carpeted floor with a cup of sake. Fuminari felt like he was a catch on display, a side dish to accompany the man’s drink. There were two other men and two women. One of the women had abnormally white skin and long, black hair. Her body gave off a strange energy, like the energy of a female in heat, enough to arouse any passing male; the force wrapped itself around her like a shimmering heat wave. Her lips, in contrast to her white skin, were bloody crimson. It appeared to be their natural color, not from lipstick. Her mouth curled into a seductive grin as she evaluated Fuminari with a lusty stare. The other woman wore a black cloth that covered her entire body. Only her eyes and the skin from her pale wrists down were visible. She wore a veil across her face, concealing it from the nose down. Another section of cloth covered her head. The elliptical space around her eyes was the only section, bar her hands, that allowed her to be seen. She glared at Fuminari, her eyes piercing. Her pupils were black and unforgiving. Her eyes together with the line of her nose hinted that the woman underneath was probably quite beautiful.
Of the two men he was seeing for the first time, one was a monk. His head was shaved clean. He was in his late 30’s. There was intelligence in his eyes, but every now and again something that resembled hysteria would bubble to the surface.
Geshin, Fuminari thought.
The final man’s eyes flitted uncomfortably between the others and Fuminari. While everyone else in the room had an air of abnormality about them, this man alone seemed normal. It was clear that he was the lowest ranked among them.
“Long time no see,” Fuminari called out to Enoh.
“It was a shame. I’d wanted to use something far more interesting than guns for you.” Enoh chuckled, bringing the cup of the sake to his mouth.
“My thoughts exactly.”
“If you’d come my way I would have done you the favor of burying my hand deep in that throat of yours.”
“If you untie me you could try me on right now.”
“And if it was my decision I would; alas, such is not the case.”
“Scared?” Fuminari bated with a grin.
“Scared indeed. To find a man such as yourself lurking in the wild, the world is not completely forsaken after all.”
“First time I’ve met an old crony of your like too.”
“Such a pleasure to hear.”
“So, what do you plan to do with me?”
“We’ll probably keep you on display for a while, or perhaps you’re ready to tell us why you’ve been snooping into our business?”
“I’ll consider it, if you tell me who the hell you guys are first.”
“You’ll find out soon enough; Master Kurogosho will be here in person tomorrow.”
“Who the fuck is Master Kurogosho?”
“Your torment has been put on hold for a day! Master Kurogosho has expressed a desire to see you in person. Any fun to be had torturing you... Well, we’re just going to have to wait. That man there is just itching to start slicing you up.” Enoh jerked his chin toward the man with the shaved head. The man looked back at Fuminari with a chilling grin that suggested someone had promised fun to be had later.
“Geshin, right?” Fuminari asked.
“Ah,” Enoh narrowed his eyes, “you know his name.”
“Learned it at school,” Fuminari countered lightly.
“Renobo, what do you make of this man?” Enoh asked the woman with the strange sexual energy.
“An oversized monkey that talks too much,” Renobo replied, her voice was cold.
“And you’re a sex-crazed snake, right?” As Fuminari spoke Renobo turned to look at him, her eyes flush with sexual allure. “I bet you spend the whole day desperate to fuck.”
“Correct. I can’t stop thinking about cock.”
Fuminari sensed something like a white snake slithering beneath the surface of Renobo’s flesh. She got to her feet and sauntered across the room until she was just before him.
“I’d just love to suck all that energy from you.” She placed her hands on his shoulders and brought her lips to his in a wet kiss. As she pulled away, blood trickled from Fuminari’s lower lip. She had bitten him with her white teeth. The blood traced a line from his lip to his jaw before dripping onto the carpeted floor. His blood deepened the red shade of her lips.
“Delicious.” Renobo curled her lips up into a tight v-shaped smile.
“I look forward to repaying the debt,” Fuminari said, his mouth already covered in blood. “I’ll strip you naked and ram a viper up your cunt.”
His eyes burned with black flames.
Eleven
The Secret Cult
1
Iba had finally given in.
It was the second morning after his capture at night. By then, he was missing half of his teeth and most of the nails on his hands and feet. Biku had pulled them without anesthetic, using only bamboo slits and a pair of pliers.
He had tied Iba up, then inserted salt-flaked bamboo under the man’s nails in order to prise them from the skin. The torture had been simple, but excruciatingly effective. The nerve endings at the end of a person’s fingers are particularly sensitive. To have bamboo slits tearing into them was agony, enough to force even the toughest man to cry out.
Once he had separated the nails from the skin, Biku had used a set of pincers to twist them out. Then he had moved onto Iba’s teeth. Here Biku had used a narrow bit to drill holes into them, one by one, boring through the enamel and dentine until he hit nerve. He had then inserted a thin file into the holes and begun to rub.
Biku’s stunning smile had never faltered. The smile was that of a child, completely lacking in guilt or self-reproach. He met Iba’s agonized screams with a look of simple curiosity, like a child examining an unfathomable creature.
Iba had held out for two days; when he finally broke on the second morning, it had been more from the horror brought on by Biku’s aberrant smile than from the pain itself. It had eaten away at his will to fight.
“You win,” Iba spat the words, his bloodied head drooping forwards even as he was bound to the chair. “I want some fucking painkillers, anesthetic.”
“Of course. Once you answer my questions,” Biku replied coolly. Hosuke Kumon was standing against the far wall, arms folded as he watched.
Biku paced lightly up to Iba, elegant as a peacock flaunting its plumage. A congenital indifference to pain. Biku, named after the great Kujaku Myo’o, had been born without the ability to feel pain. The knowledge made it easier to understand the abnormality of his innocent, schoolgirl-like expression. ‘Biku’ was not his official name at Mt. Koya, more of a nickname. It had arisen naturally as a side-effect of his prodigious talents and striking beauty, both so profound as to bring rumor of Kukai’s second coming. He was youthful looking but likely the same age as Hosuke, at least in his late twenties. He looked like a naively innocent teenager, yet one possessed with the mind of an adult. Even then, there was something hard to place about him.
The Psyche Diver Trilogy: Demon Hunters Page 19
