Sayaka’s eyes glistened. The old saying was no less true here and now—no man could resist the tears of a beautiful woman.
Kyoya sighed. “Fine. Do whatever.”
“Oh! Thank you!”
Suddenly she was right there, with her sixteen-year-old lithesome limbs circled around his neck. The supple warm softness of her breasts pressed against his back.
Kyoya flushed and jerked around. “Idiot! This is hardly the time or place for that!”
Sayaka was only wearing her bra and panties, making her buxom dimensions plain as day. “Don’t look!” she shrieked, like any normal sixteen-year-old. She blushed bright red and ran back behind the wall.
“Um, ah, you all right?” Kyoya stammered, then said more forcefully, “You coming along is your decision, so don’t go looking for sympathy. Start complaining or whining, and we’re through. One more thing: if any of those chaps from the Information Bureau come for you, they’re getting no argument from me. You’re all theirs.”
Sayaka smiled and nodded. “Yes, but I left a message for Yamashina saying not to come looking for me. If it came out that I was in Shinjuku, and if anything should happen to me here, they’d likely be held responsible by the press, so I am quite sure they’ll do nothing.”
“That’s all?” Kyoya said doubtfully. “You’ll just leak it to the tabloids, that’s all?”
“Um, no.” Sayaka mulled over the right way to put it. “Rather, ah, words to the effect that if push came to shove, it might lead to demotions and budget cuts and the like.”
For a moment, Kyoya stared at her cherubic countenance. Then he blurted out, “Man, I so do not want to get on your bad side.”
The moaning and maledictions filled the gloom of the Sorcerer’s hideout. Suiki writhed on the cold floor, hand pressed against his eye. The tip of the needle jutted out from between his fingers. The psychic energy Kyoya had concentrated in his “needlework nenpo” hadn’t only ruined his eye, but had shot clean through it and was now impossible to extract.
“You not only didn’t destroy the boy, he killed your demon fish, wounded you, and took our hostage. You have the gall to slink back here, a dishonorable fool. Well, you should suffer a while longer.”
The merciless voice resounded from the darkness, the voice of the Sorcerer. But different than before, suffused with a ghastly demonic energy that made the flailing Suiki forget his suffering for a second, start, and look around.
“Forgive me, Lord Sorcerer. I will have my revenge. But it hurts. Not only my eye, my whole body burns. Kyoya Izayoi, this is a grudge that will never be buried between us.”
“Yes. Never. You will extinguish him before he finds us. Can you do that? Can you swear to me, Suiki?”
“I swear. Upon my life and existence in the Demon Realm. Do something about this needle!”
A moment of silence. Then harsh laughter. “Fine. Come to the operating table.”
Suiki stumbled to the back of the shadowed room. An operation was underway. Bathed in the blinking light from the computer displays, the machines silently executed the program.
The results of the operation lay upon the altar. Inside the glimmering pale mannequin that housed the soul was a skeleton of specialized metal alloy construction. What appeared to be a variety of electrical components were secured to the surrounding banks of machines by thousands of conduits and electronic synapses and translucent tubes.
Now and then, the light of the “soul” dimmed, and the low computerized voice reciting the incantations spilled forth from the speakers, breathing life back into it.
This was a Demon Realm surgery, executed by the program in the computer’s memory according to the haunting incantations, sans the blood transfusion equipment, cardiotonic steroids, life-support systems—all of the usual medical essentials.
“Come.”
Drawn by the supremely confident command, Suiki approached a corner of the operating table. The charcoal black skeleton grew transparent—or rather, the dark arms coiled around the pale soul rose from the table. The steel fingers clamped around the end of the needle in Suiki’s eye and without any resistance pulled it out.
Suiki backed away with a fearful-sounding howl. He and his fellow demons didn’t follow the Sorcerer because his powers exceeded theirs. The beings summoned to this world must bow down to he who summoned them—a law that had existed since ancient times. But now it was clear to him that the dead Sorcerer lying on the altar before him possessed powers that indeed surpassed theirs.
With a ping, the Sorcerer tossed the twisted needle onto the floor. “Is Kaki present?”
“I am here.” Kaki emerged from the darkness.
“Accompany Suiki and find the boy and the girl. They needn’t be killed. Until my surgeries are finished, they must not come to this location.”
Implying that once the operation was complete, he wouldn’t mind how or when they attacked.
“Understood. I will once again take control of the girl’s shadow.” A rare note of anger rang in the normally stoic Kaki’s voice. Saying that Kyoya needn’t be killed was the same as saying that they couldn’t kill him. “Suiki, though, is of no use. He will stay behind and perform bodyguard duties.”
The sound of Suiki grinding his teeth in reaction to the harsh disdain could clearly be heard.
“No. Even having disposed of the sword containing his father’s psychic powers, he remains a frightening wielder of the nenpo arts. He may be honing those skills even as we speak. Including today, there are three more days before its appearance in the world. My operation will likely take that long. During that period, he absolutely cannot be permitted to step within these precincts. You will combine your forces in its defense. Of course, if he can be defeated, nothing would be more appreciated.”