Page 1 of 4

Hisao and Kenji-Concrete Jungle Conclusion Update

Posted: Thu Sep 19, 2013 10:42 am
by Hoitash
Hisao and Kenji- Concrete Jungle (An H&K: MD Halloween Special)
“No one would have believed in the last years of the nineteenth century that this world was being watched keenly and closely by intelligences greater than man's and yet as mortal as his own; that as men busied themselves about their various concerns they were scrutinised and studied…Yet across the gulf of space, minds that are to our minds as ours are to those of the beasts that perish, intellects vast and cool and unsympathetic, regarded this earth with envious eyes, and slowly and surely drew their plans against us…” – The Narrator, HG Wells’ War of the Worlds

Chapter One: By the Rivers of Babylon


I’ve been called insane for most of my life. Frankly, I don’t want to see the man who’s sane after doing the shit I’ve done and seen the things I’ve seen. Like that one summer, back when Hisato was around three, and Hisao and I were working in my office one afternoon…

Well, working might be a bit generous. Whether it was the heat wave or an upswing in the economy, I hadn’t had a case in several weeks, so we took advantage of the fact to catch up on some paperwork while I let the news blare on in the background on an old battery powered radio.

Hisao’s described that office more times than I can count, and while he may not have liked the mustard yellow paint scheme, I think it offered a nice contrast to the battered wooden bookshelves and drab green file cabinets crammed along the walls. My dark wooden desk – a family heirloom that can be traced back to the Meiji Period- prominently sat in the middle of the main room, which was at the end of a short hallway that led to the main building, and a small bathroom.

While I sat behind the desk plugging away at my computer, Hisao handled the printed copies, since he obviously was better suited to something you couldn’t enlarge with a keystroke. The air conditioner droned on in the background, fighting desperately to keep the room comfortable, and only barely succeeding. Its cacophony made listening to the radio a chore, but Hisao wanted to hear the news, since it contained a bit he was interested in.

“…following the final review of evidence,” the radio newswoman was stating, “the United Nations Anti-Trust Council found in favor of Sarif Industries, ruling that Otori Group’s plans to build an augment facility in Hawaii-”

“Took ‘em long enough,” Hisao grumbled, “David filed that suit three years ago.”

“-was in violation of the International Anti-Trust Treaty of 2020, currently signed by seventy-three nations, and under consideration in another forty. When asked about the ruling, David Sarif, CEO and founder of Sarif Industries, stated ‘too many people have sacrificed too much to place the world in the hands of a few mega corporations –I’ve seen firsthand how badly that can go wrong, and I wouldn’t wish the results or the pain rebuilding is on anyone. Except maybe Cleveland.’”

“Still not sure it was worth getting shot at so much,” Hisao remarked.

“Occupational hazard,” I declared.

Hisao sighed, “Your idea of occupational hazards needs tweaking. Or you need to update your business plan.”

I shrugged, “These days I spend more time writing than working on cases, anyway.”

“Probably safer that way,” Hisao mused, “if less exciting.”

The radio, which had moved on to the weather –hot, humid, and clear- suddenly blared their breaking news tone, which made my spleen twinge in anticipation.

“A possible gang hideout was brutally assaulted sometime this morning, with several deaths suspected. Details at this time are sketchy, but unconfirmed reports state that at least half a dozen gang members were brutally murdered, their bodies flayed and hung upside-down from the ceiling of their hideout-”

My spleen twinged worse, and I glanced at Hisao, who had shifted to fully face the radio as it continued, “Reports of survivors are also unconfirmed, and at this time the police have not released an official statement. One is expected later in the day, as is possibly more details…”

I tuned out the radio and faced Hisao, “That sounded familiar.”

Hisao nodded, “How’s your spleen?”

I grunted and shifted in my seat to ease the pressure on my left side, “Not good, so either Hisato has colic again…”

“Or something is rotten in Denmark,” Hisao quipped. He stood up and reached for his pocket, “and considering the heat wave, my guess is a Hunter.”

I raised an eyebrow, “Let’s not jump to conclusions. It could just be a gang war, or even a Templar or Illuminati grunt who came out of the woodwork to try and get things rolling again.”

“Fair enough, but I’m not taking any chances,” Hisao stated, “I’m going to talk to Jigoro, you find where that hideout is and sniff around.”

I nodded and started working on my laptop, scouring the internet for information, “When did you become the paranoid one?”

“Somewhere between when I used a chainsword to duel an alien,” he replied, tapping the bracelet of human teeth he tended to wear in the summer –a grizzly trophy from said encounter, “and my youngest daughter having an attention deficit disorder with a penchant for wandering, so better to nip this as fast as we can.”

Seeing Hisao tap the bracelet reminded me of some of the information on the aliens we had perused a few years ago, so I asked, “Even if it is one of them, isn’t Jigoro protected because of you? He has a bracelet, too, after all.”

Hisao shrugged, “Maybe, but he didn’t kill one himself, either. It depends on how ‘honorable’,” Hisao rolled his eyes and made the air quotes, “this particular alien is feeling. We still know next to nothing about them, and I seriously doubt what Fargo shared with us was everything they had. So forgive me for presuming that this one might eventually go looking for Jigoro.”

I sighed and nodded, conceding the point while still trying to find an address. Hisao, meanwhile, did whatever it was he was doing, which turned out to be calling his wife, because when he spoke again it sounded like he was on the phone.

“Hey, Hana? How would you like to take the Harley out to Mr. Hakamichi’s? I need to run something by them that’s work related, and since Hideaki or Shizune should be there… Great, thanks. I’ll be by in a bit –I gotta drop Kenji off for work first. I’ll make sure he calls Miya. Love you, too, and tell Akio I’ll play chess with him when we get back. Yes, even if we get back late; it is summer break. Thanks, see you soon. Bye.”

“Found it,” I declared, “You want me to grab the drawer?”

“Yup,” he said as he shoved his phone into his pocket, “no sense going in unprepared.”

I smirked, “That sounds familiar. You want the Tesla?”

“I’ll take a Tesla, two grenades, the 1911, and the Anaconda,” Hisao rattled off.

I nodded and hefted myself up to pull out the locked desk drawer where I kept the pistols; I kept most of the grenades and rifles in one of the cabinets, under “D” for Dakka. Yes, I used the English alphabet for filing; it made more sense that way.

“You don’t want a Nambu?” I asked.

“I really don’t see that peashooter being much use against a Hunter, but may as well,” Hisao said.

“It’s a good pistol,” I countered as I unlocked the drawer, “I’ll just stick with the Tesla and a couple grenades for now.”

“Good idea,” Hisao declared, “Especially if the cops get nosy… I’ve been hanging out with you for too long.”

I chuckled, “You love it and you know it.”

Hisao shrugged and reached into the drawer for his chosen weapons, taking the aged, black Colt pistol, one of the two black and brass Tesla pistol contraptions, two brass/glass grenades filled with coursing purple energy, one of the shining silver revolvers, and the old, trusty, compact, black type 94 Nambu pistol that I didn’t have stuffed into my jacket –since I tended to wear it when I worked, I considered it part of my work attire more often than not. I debated whether or not to take off the pistol I was wearing, but decided to risk it; it had never been found before, so I wasn’t too worried if it was noticed. Worse came to worse, that’s what the Tesla was for. Once Hisao had grabbed the holsters for the weapons and some grenades, I followed suit for the Tesla, also taking two Tesla grenades just to be safe.

“You think hollow-points would be any good against a Hunter?” I asked, perusing my ammunition collection in the drawer.

“Probably not,” Hisao replied, “although Tungsten might, and I’m sure Matthew’s explosive rounds at point blank would do nicely, especially if you could blow his head off.”

I smirked and nodded, “Blown off head tends to be fatal.”

While I locked the drawer and placed it back in the cabinet, Hisao made sure the weapons were loaded and safe before texting Shizune to let her know he and Hanako were on their way, and just why they were on their way. Once he finished that, we headed to the coat rack to grab our old, worn brown suit jackets and matching fedoras. Despite the heat, it
was important to look the part of the private investigator. Plus we had to conceal all the holsters and bulges, and I had carefully chosen these suits over a decade ago to do that.

“Wrong hat,” I warned Hisao.

Hisao paused and sighed, “Right, Kyoto, top hook. Non-Kyoto, bottom hook. Thanks for that.”

I grinned as I donned my own hat, glancing up at Hisao as I did so, “No problem, man; Hanako would have a heart attack if she saw that bullet hole.”

Hisao glanced at me from under the fedora and grumbled, “Just count yourself lucky the limp wasn’t permanent.”

I rolled my eyes and gestured to the door, “You ready?”

Hisao nodded, “Yeah, let’s go, and hope to the Golden Throne that we’re overreacting.”

I couldn’t help snorting and remarking, “As if we’re ever that lucky.”

+++
Next Chapter

WELCOME TO THE JUNGLE!

Here, at last, is what many of you hoped Episode Seven of H&K: MD would be. Although you probably weren’t expecting Kenji as a POV character (that comes free with a year’s subscription to Crazy Town. Offer void in Florida.)

Now strap in, strap on, and buckle up for the next epic adventure in the crazy lives of Kenji Setou and Hisao Nakai (and sometimes Akira Hashimoto.)

I would also like to take this moment to thank my semi-regular editor and self publishing partner Helbereth, who has been instrumental in my efforts to attempt to amass an army of Orangu Men to conquer northern Canada as part of my dream to become a bear hunter and revitalize the fur industry to allow us to compete with Russia. Also for editing; he’s really good at that.

And yes, this fic takes place around two years after the birthday update. I don’t plan to move the timeline too much, but this meant this mystery occurred three or four years after Mystery Seven (I really need to ask ProfAllister to cajigure my timeline for me, cuz I suck at it), which seemed like a decent interlude.

Anyway, what time is it? Adventure Time! Updating weekly in preparation for a Halloween Finale, so stay tuned!

Re: Hisao and Kenji-Concrete Jungle (An H&K:MD Halloween Spe

Posted: Thu Sep 19, 2013 11:17 am
by AntonSlavik020
Except maybe Cleveland.
But I live near Cleveland...

Anyways, Interesting start. I like the Kenji perspective. I actually like it whenever the perspective isn't Hisao's, it makes it more interesting to me.

Re: Hisao and Kenji-Concrete Jungle (An H&K:MD Halloween Spe

Posted: Thu Sep 19, 2013 11:41 am
by Hoitash
AntonSlavik020 wrote:
Except maybe Cleveland.
But I live near Cleveland...
And I live near Detroit! Fellow suburbanites unite, you have nothing to lose but your street shopping! huzzah!
Anyways, Interesting start. I like the Kenji perspective. I actually like it whenever the perspective isn't Hisao's, it makes it more interesting to me.
Thanks, I like switching perspectives every now and then. I enjoy writing Kenji, Akira, and Misha as well, so it's fun to experiment (as long as I remember the duct tape in case I accidentally have a freak out.)

Re: Hisao and Kenji-Concrete Jungle (An H&K:MD Halloween Spe

Posted: Thu Sep 19, 2013 1:17 pm
by SpcPotshot
Woohoo! New content! Can't wait!

Is it going to be on a schedule like Road to Tokyo was?

Re: Hisao and Kenji-Concrete Jungle (An H&K:MD Halloween Spe

Posted: Thu Sep 19, 2013 1:26 pm
by Hoitash
SpcPotshot wrote:Woohoo! New content! Can't wait!

Is it going to be on a schedule like Road to Tokyo was?
Indeed, updates are Thursday to correspond with a Halloween Day Finale!

Re: Hisao and Kenji-Concrete Jungle (An H&K:MD Halloween Spe

Posted: Thu Sep 19, 2013 2:44 pm
by Helbereth
Hoitash wrote:
SpcPotshot wrote:Woohoo! New content! Can't wait!

Is it going to be on a schedule like Road to Tokyo was?
Indeed, updates are Thursday to correspond with a Halloween Day Finale!
On that, are you planning to send part 6 sometime soon, or am I to be left flapping in the breeze?

Re: Hisao and Kenji-Concrete Jungle (An H&K:MD Halloween Spe

Posted: Thu Sep 19, 2013 3:17 pm
by Hoitash
Helbereth wrote:
Hoitash wrote:
SpcPotshot wrote:Woohoo! New content! Can't wait!

Is it going to be on a schedule like Road to Tokyo was?
Indeed, updates are Thursday to correspond with a Halloween Day Finale!
On that, are you planning to send part 6 sometime soon, or am I to be left flapping in the breeze?
Thought you might need a break to recover from the illness, but now you mention it, time's about right for the next part.

I'd almost think you're interest is less than strictly academic :wink:.

Re: Hisao and Kenji-Concrete Jungle (An H&K:MD Halloween Spe

Posted: Fri Sep 20, 2013 12:39 am
by griffon8
Well, here we go again. :lol:
I shrugged, “These days I spend more time writing then working on cases, anyway.”
Whoops.

Re: Hisao and Kenji-Concrete Jungle (An H&K:MD Halloween Spe

Posted: Fri Sep 20, 2013 2:03 am
by Helbereth
Hoitash wrote:Thought you might need a break to recover from the illness, but now you mention it, time's about right for the next part.
I have little else to do while I'm sick than sit here and stare at my monitor, so I might as well be doing something mildly productive.
I'd almost think you're interest is less than strictly academic :wink:.
Well, there's a certain amount of wanting to see what happens, but now there's a deadline in play, and my time distribution has always been less than reliable.
griffon8 wrote:Well, here we go again. :lol:
I shrugged, “These days I spend more time writing then working on cases, anyway.”
Whoops.
Y'know I think I may have just glanced over the first chapter--I say that because I don't have a hard copy of it, whereas I've created my own local file to work on the other chapters...

Re: Hisao and Kenji-Concrete Jungle (An H&K:MD Halloween Spe

Posted: Fri Sep 20, 2013 10:51 am
by Hoitash
Helbereth wrote:Y'know I think I may have just glanced over the first chapter--I say that because I don't have a hard copy of it, whereas I've created my own local file to work on the other chapters...
That is the case as I recall it. I like to think you were sitting down to revise the first chapter, when Papa Nurgle looked over your shoulder, said "nope!" and you suddenly keeled over and started vomiting uncontrollably for the rest of the day.

Re: Hisao and Kenji-Concrete Jungle (An H&K:MD Halloween Spe

Posted: Thu Sep 26, 2013 10:25 am
by SpcPotshot
Comrades! Brothers! Sisters! Fellow fans of H&K: MD! Lend me your ears!...ears....sensing devices? Sure, let's go with that.

Anyway, Hoitash and I (mostly Hoitash, to be honest) have created a TV Tropes page for Hisao and Kenji- Master Detectives!

Problem is, I started a new job over the night shift, and between working, a weddings, drill weekends, and the like, I can't read through everything all over again and mention tropes. Hoitash has better stuff to do than read over his own work for the page, so I ask you to help us!

Here's the link: http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/F ... Detectives

So, fellow fans, I ask you...do you want to live FOREVER!?!

Re: Hisao and Kenji-Concrete Jungle (An H&K:MD Halloween Spe

Posted: Thu Sep 26, 2013 10:31 am
by Hoitash
SpcPotshot wrote: Anyway, Hoitash and I (mostly Hoitash, to be honest) have created a TV Tropes page for Hisao and Kenji- Master Detectives!
Now don't be modest; you started the page, I just added bits in when they came to me. You took the step that I felt was impolite for me to make, and for that, I thank you.
Hoitash has better stuff to do than read over his own work for the page, so I ask you to help us!
I don't know about that... wait, isn't there something I need to post today? Damn you, broken coffee maker!

Re: Hisao and Kenji-Concrete Jungle (An H&K:MD Halloween Spe

Posted: Thu Sep 26, 2013 11:53 am
by TacticalBacon
involving the Yakuza, Templars, Freemasons, the Illuminati, aliens, werewolves, and no small amount of shooting.
I support this fic.

Nice writing, no noticeable errors, great concept, and all those good stuff. Subbed!

Re: Hisao and Kenji-Concrete Jungle (An H&K:MD Halloween Spe

Posted: Thu Sep 26, 2013 11:54 am
by Hoitash
“Blessed are the peacemakers: for they shall be called the children of God.” –Matthew 5:9, King James Version

Previous Chapter

Chapter Two: Jordan’s Stormy Banks


Hisao dropped me off a few blocks from the crime scene, and we wished each other luck before he headed off to follow his own objectives. Once he was out of sight, I headed toward the flashing lights and chattering voices in the hopes of finding a cop who would give me the time of day.

Crime scenes are an interesting mix of chaos and order. Police officers in dark blue uniforms guard the tape and roadblocks, while detectives, scene investigators, and the like, roam inside the scene itself—the state of which depends on the crime. This particular scene was the size of a city block, cordoned off with roughly a hundred meters of tape and sawhorses, and completely surrounded by rubberneckers. The building that had been turned into a human butcher shop was easy enough to see, even to me; it was surrounded by ambulances and vans, while cops and medical personnel wandered in and out periodically.

News people dotted the scene like rats looking for scraps, their oversized, antennae-laden vans parked along the sides of the road, while the various reporters and crew mulled about looking for the best spot to film the carnage—the doubled-edged sword that is the Fourth Estate. While they circled the scene in hopes of scraps, curious bystanders who apparently had nothing better to do with their lives, loitered around, no doubt trying to get a picture of a mangled corpse so they could show their social media website of choice—and the droning masses—that they're doing something with their lives. At the time it felt more like they were just there to make my life more difficult.

As I wandered closer, trying to remain inconspicuous as I pushed through the crowd, I started looking for a familiar figure. Several uniformed officers who were either new, or had pissed off their sergeant, had the duty of keeping the rubberneckers and reporters out, but I didn't recognize any of them. When I finally reached the edge of the scene, I focused on one short officer standing near the edge of the cordon, in one of the spots where reporters and gawkers hadn’t coalesced—finally a familiar face had showed itself.

“Yukari!” I called, and the figure started as I entered normal conversation distance.

“Kenji,” barked the young police woman, “What the hell are you doing here?”

Petite and surly, with steely amber eyes, and her shining black hair in a ponytail, Police Officer Yukari Nakano could go toe to toe with any of her male counterparts. Rather curvy despite her short stature, a fact she tried to hide under her uniform—albeit somewhat unsuccessfully—she was intelligent and observant, with an excellent wit, and all packed into a 154 centimeter frame—that’s five feet for those of you using Imperial. Procedural almost to a fault, she endured wearing her entire uniform despite the appalling heat and humidity, while most of her fellow officers simply wore a Kevlar vest over their shirt.

That kind of grit is rare, though it seemed somewhat misdirected; her adherence to the rules in that case had more to do with hiding her figure from leering eyes than following protocol. That aside, essentially Yukari was an amiable cop with a nice body, and brains to match—I’m not ashamed to admit that I probably would've asked her to marry me if she hadn't been batting for the other team. As it was, she was the closest thing I had to a friend in the city police force, most likely because, as much as myself, she enjoyed the occasional exchange of verbal barbs we shared.

“There’s a gelato shop down the street a few blocks,” I quipped, pointing aimlessly with my thumb over my shoulder, “I was just on my way there.”

“Uh-huh,” she deadpanned, “well, keep walking, then; we’re kinda busy here.”

“Yeah, I heard the news,” I said, nodding toward the scene, “So, were the bodies missing their skulls and spinal columns, by chance?”

Yukari’s eyes narrowed—we were less than a meter apart by that point, and it was sunny—as she asked, “…How the hell did you know that?”

Choosing my words carefully, I responded, “Remember that series of murders a few years back? With former Yakuza members and their retinue getting slaughtered?”

Grunting in acknowledgment, she nodded and replied, “Oh... yeah. They never caught that sick fuck, did they?”

“No, they didn't,” I lied, “Anyway, a client hired me back then to see if their relative was on that murderer’s hit list.”

“So… you’re worried whoever did this,” she surmised, waving at the chaos of the crime scene beside us, “...might be after your client's relative?”

Since that was the truth, I simply nodded; it was just the identity of the murderer I was hiding—and my clients, of course, but that was part of the job. “Yeah; said client is a family friend,” I explained, which was a safe way to reference Shizune Hakamichi. Domineering bitch with a stick up her ass was another way to describe her, but Yukari didn't need details like that. “...So, I felt I had to look into it.”

Yukari sighed, “Fine, but stay on that side of the line.”

“I know the drill,” I stated. Figuring some buttering up would be required to get my next series of questions answered, I asked, “Speaking of family, how’s Kotori?”

Taking the topic shift in stride, Yukari shrugged and replied, “Fine, thanks…. Speaking of life partners, how’s Hisao?”

Her sly smirk made me twitch as I countered, “Hisao and his wife and children are doing well... as are my wife and son.”

Chuckling, apparently pleased that she had gotten a rise out of me, she said, “Good to hear,” then raised an eyebrow and added, “Now, what do you want?”

“Answers,” I replied, since if I was going to be direct I might as well be as honest as possible—not that I could lie to Yukari effectively. “But I’ll settle for a bone,” I conceded, realizing it might be all I could get, “The murders last time had survivors; were there any this time around?”

Pausing, her body shifted uncomfortably as she struggled to form a response, the delay providing my answer. “You know I can’t answer that,” she said finally, going back to the officer's manual, “and you don't need policy quoted.”

“C’mon, Yukari,” I pleaded, “If this nutcase is out there again, I owe it to my client to do what I can to stop more murders—namely theirs.”

Rolling her eyes, she sighed, “You wanna help? Stay out of it and let us do our jobs.”

“What harm can I do?” I asked, “You know me; I wouldn’t meddle if I didn’t think I could do some good.”

Shifting on her feet uncomfortably, her expression soured as she scolded, “Look, Kenji: we got a job to do, and we’re gonna do it…” she glanced back toward the scene as she trailed off, then shook her head and added, “If you want to offer your crackpot theories and nonsense as consultation, take it up with someone whose pay grade is higher than mine.”

Re: Hisao and Kenji-Concrete Jungle (An H&K:MD Halloween Spe

Posted: Thu Sep 26, 2013 11:54 am
by Hoitash
Part II:

With a heavy sigh, I rubbed my temple and groaned inaudibly; sending me on a paperwork-filled goose chase was the best she could do, it seemed. At least I hadn’t been cut out of the loop completely, but penetrating the bureaucracy takes time, and if there was one thing Jigoro didn't have while there was a sociopathic murderous alien on the loose, it was time.

Deciding a tactical withdrawal was my only option for the time being, I lowered my hand and said, “I’ll do that, then. In the meantime—just so I know I’m not chasing my own tail here—were there any survivors? Kitchen staff, maid, anyone?”

Yukari shifted again, and I focused on her face. Her amber eyes were downcast, and I could’ve sworn there was a look of… disgust... marring her soft features. When she replied, it was in a strained, harsh whisper that made me nervous, “Yes…”

“There was a survivor?” I pressed.

With a deep breath to collect herself, she glared up at me and snapped, “Yes!” then took a small step forward and lowered her voice, “You’re damn lucky I know you won’t blab to the press, or both our asses would be in a sling—you know that?”

“Thank you,” I replied, holding up a palm in gratitude. Bowing lightly and adjusting my hat, I added, “Guess I better bug Captain Isshiki for some paperwork.”

As I turned to make my exit, she prompted, “Actually...” leading me to look back and raise a curious eyebrow, “Maybe you can be of some use. I’ll take the heat for it if I have to, but the Captain will probably agree…”

“How can I help??” I asked, eager for a way in; if there was a survivor, I had to ask them what they saw.

“…The survivor… was a young woman,” Yukari stated, and my spleen and stomach churned in anticipated disgust.

Taking a moment to steady myself, I made sure my voice was even before asking, “How young?”

“We’re not sure,” she answered, her tone sounding clinical—almost detached, “but the best guess is around sixteen...”

“I see…” I stated, repressing my own look of disgust.

“She was hiding in a closet when we found her,” she continued, “well, Takebe and Reizei found her; I haven’t been inside. Anyway, she, um, well…”

“She was their…pet,” I hazarded, trying to use a term least likely to make me sick.

“That would be the least disturbing way to put it,” she concurred, shaking her head in disgust, “sex-slave would be the proper term, though... though I’m sure she did housework, too. Either way, she was heavily drugged and hysterical, so she was taken to a hospital for blood work, medication... and because we had no idea what else to do with her.”

“Fair enough,” I said, repressing my desire to kill the fucks who had victimized the girl—though since they were all dead the gesture would be moot, “where do I come in?”

“If she’s been as victimized as we’re both thinking,” Yukari said, holding out a hand toward me, “she’s probably been trained not to trust cops-”

“And I’m not a cop,” I declared, ready to step into the role she was suggesting, “Fair enough again. Where is she?”

Yukari told me which hospital I needed to visit, I thanked her, then I turned to leave. Before I got two steps away, her cell phone started ringing, and I slowed to wait through the brief exchange. After she hung up and didn't say anything, I continued on my way, but I barely got five paces before I heard her sigh and state, “Fuck, I was right.”

“About what?” I asked, sending a curious glance back over my shoulder again.

“The girl’s a Korean resident,” she explained, “probably the descendent of a war laborer... I figured a gang of street thugs would go for an easy target for a slave, so I asked for the info on her prints and DNA when they ran it.”

“That was some fast screening,” I remarked.

“I may have asked for a rush on it,” Yukari admitted, “the lab rats owed me a favor in any case. Anyway, the screens came back with jack shit, so whoever this girl is, I doubt she’s a citizen, and if we couldn’t turn up her alien registration data, odds are good someone either fiddled with it, or she never had it to begin with.”

“I agree,” I said, “in that case, I better get going while the system is still on her side.”

Without family to pay her bills, and with her records having been deleted, or never existing in the first place—which isn't much of a stretch for a vagrant—her chance of recovering, or even remaining hospitalized, were slim at best—especially if she didn’t have anyone to help her through the bureaucratic hoops. In that regard I could be very helpful, thanks to the aforementioned domineering bitch, but I had to get there before the system kicked her to the curb.

“Yeah,” Yukari sighed, “and do me a favor? Please?”

Her plea brought me wheeling around again, though I had some idea of what she was about to say. “Yes?”

“See to it she’s taken care of,” Yukari requested with a somber nod, “She’s endured enough as it is.”

“I’ll do my best,” I assured her, returning the nod, “after all, if nothing else, I’m more than qualified to fight the system in the name of justice.”

With an indignant snort, she scoffed, “what, now you’re Green Arrow?”

Chuckling, I snapped back, “No... I’m motherfucking Kenji.”

As I strode away from the crime scene, Yukari’s chuckles ringing behind me, I decided now was a good time to check in with Hisao. It was risky, sure, but I doubted I’d have time to do it anytime soon. Knowing how Hanako rode her motorcycles, the two had probably arrived at Jigoro’s place already—hopefully in time to find some decent weapons and run off somewhere away from witnesses.

Using a prepaid burner cell, which I kept for work purposes and to avoid having my work mixed with my personal phone calls, I tapped out Hisao's cellphone number and held it up as I walked. Waiting for him to pick up seemed to take a bit longer then I would’ve liked, which made me worried, but, then again, pretty much everything worries me—it's the cross I bear for the good of mankind.

“Hey, man,” Hisao said, sounding cautiously eager, “Any confirmation yet?”

He always had a knack for getting straight to the point, so I responded in kind, “No, but I'm following a good lead. How’re things on your end?”

Hisao took a moment to answer, and as he did so, I thought I heard something rumbling in the background, like a bear going through roid rage. “She still can’t read lips, so stop wasting your breath!” Hisao snapped, then answered me, “Not well. Hanako and Misha are out shopping, and Shizune and I are trying to handle Jigoro.”

“Handle? How, exactly?” I asked, imagining it involved a straightjacket and facemask.

“Trying to keep him from bolting and getting himself killed or arrested,” Hisao replied. Something clattered in the background and he barked, “Don’t make me come in there!”

Raising an eyebrow at the curiosity hearing half an incident creates, I advised, “Well, keep him there; I want him safe and secluded for now, and you and Hakamichi are his best defense for the moment.”

“Which isn’t saying much,” Hisao stated, “Not if there's a Hunter after him. Speaking of which, what’s our plan if there is one on the loose?”

“Grab Mathew, load him with explosive rounds, shove them up the alien’s ass and pull the trigger till the mags empty,” I replied, only then noticing a few wary glances from people passing me on the street.

“Sounds good,” he said, “Hope that lead pans out, then. Or proves that this is nothing.”

“No such luck,” I stated, “Nothing concrete yet, but all signs so far are pointing to a Hunter.”

“I was afraid of that,” he sighed.

“I hate being right too, sometimes,” I admitted, “While I still have to truly confirm it, for now it's best if we act like that's the case. Once I’ve confirmed it, I’ll try and keep on its tail. At that point, you’re gonna have to find a way to look after Jigoro while you grab Matthew.”

Something clattered in the background again, and Hisao snapped, “How old are you two!? My children don’t behave this poorly, and one of them has impulse control problems!”

“You sure you’re okay over there?” I asked.

“Don’t worry about it,” he replied, still sounding agitated, “We’ll handle our end, you handle yours.”

“Right,” I said, mostly to reassure myself, “I’ll take the high road, you take the low road.”

“And I’ll get to Scotland before you,” Hisao quipped, “Although I’d rather not get Akira involved in this.”

“Fair enough,” I chuckled, “Good luck, man. I’ll check in again when I’m on the trail, if I can.”

“Don’t do anything stupid,” he advised, then quickly added, “Wait, let me amend that: don’t die.”

“That’s the plan,” I replied.

“Your plans tend to suck though,” he stated.

“Only half the time,” I admitted, “The other half they go off amazingly.”

“Here’s hoping this is one of those times, then,” he affirmed, “And good luck. Hey, put that down!”

Hisao hung up at that point, and so did I, shaking my head as I dropped the burner cell in a trash bin. Presuming is something I've had to get used to in my field of work—it's how you fill in the blanks when you run out of evidence. Nothing so far could absolutely confirm we were dealing with a Hunter, and, as a citizen of the world, I hoped I was wrong. Hope is the first step on the road to disappointment, as some say, and sometimes it results in extra bodies having their spinal columns and skulls removed as trophies.

As a foreboding chill settled into my spleen, I heaved a weary sigh and continued my way toward the hospital, and whatever travails and traumas it contained.

+++
Next Chapter

…yeah, this story just took an ugly turn. It’s going to get worse before it gets better, so be ready, folks.

In the meantime, I’ll try and scrounge up a picture of Azunyan too counter-act the sadness.

Hisao was referring to Refia, as impulse control is often a symptom of the various attention deficit disorders.