A smile sneaked into that last sentence.
A ball of flame expanded, lighting up the inky darkness. “Let’s go, Suiki. Don’t forget her shadow.”
“Understood.”
The two demon sprites departed, and the mutterings of the dead man in the midst of the pitch black seemed to trail after them. “The powers of the Demon Realm are gathering. As things stand now, it might not have been necessary to deprive him of his wooden sword after all.”
Kyoya and Sayaka found themselves in the middle of the marketplace plaza.
They’d first sought out the taxi stand the hotel owner had told them about. Not only were there no taxies, but all of the shops had lowered their shutters. The streets were empty of pedestrian traffic.
When Sayaka had wandered through earlier in her hypnotic trance, the place had been packed. Something unexpected must have happened in the meantime. Had they been experienced residents of Shinjuku, they likely would have smelled trouble in the air and kept their distance. But they were in a hurry, and Sayaka didn’t remember a thing about the last time she’d been here.
“Maybe it’s a shopping holiday.”
“Maybe,” said Sayaka, perusing the map Kyoya had entrusted to her. “What if we cut through the market to Shin-Okubo station? We might be able to hail a taxi there.”
And so the two of them ended up at what had once been Shin-Okubo station. The mountains of rubble along the High Street cleared away to form a one-hundred-fifty-foot diameter plaza. The borders of the plaza were crowded with people.
“What’s going on? Looks like an open air rave,” Sayaka said.
“Nothing like that. I smell death in the air. This must be why all the shops are closed. Wait here for a second.”
Kyoya slipped into the crowd. Mumbling, “Excuse me, excuse me,” he made his way to the front. Two yakuza gangs were staring each other down from either end of the plaza, ten or so to each side. Cradling old-type laser rifles and shotguns, they trash-talked each other, each trying to provoke the other.
In each gang were five far quieter types, radiating a killer vibe that the rest couldn’t begin to match. Kyoya’s attention was drawn to them. He said to the three-eyed mutant standing next to him, “Looks like trouble to me, like it’s gonna end up in a duel, eh?”
“That’s what I figure too. Hey, new face. Haven’t seen you around these parts before.”
“You know your turf.”
“I remember who’s been to the market even once. These eyes, you see.”
The man pointed at his forehead. The bright and clear third eye winked at him. It seemed the equivalent of a photographic memory.
“Best you not go wandering around. There are folks around here who like nothing better than picking fights with outsiders, you know?”
Despite his grotesque appearance, he seemed a friendly man. He had a newspaper stuck in the back pocket of his trousers. It was a daily tabloid detailing important events in Shinjuku and commercial activities in the markets. A few pages, but taking the concept of “freedom of the press” to its limits, seeing no problem with running ads from contract killers, for example. Though the location of the press was a closely-guarded secret.
“Strange situation. Can you clue me in on how it’s going down? The bunch over there, typical street gang, right?”
The man nodded. “The fat lady on the right, she leads the Hippopotamus Group. The skinny one on the left with the long neck, the Praying Mantis clan. They’ve been struggling for control of this market for a long time. And today, all of a sudden, things suddenly hit the boiling point.”
“Completely out of the blue?”
“From what I’ve heard, sometime around noon, Yoshiko—she’s the head hippo of the Hippopotamus Group—hit on some girl younger and prettier than her. A bad habit of hers. Well, this girl had some moves on her, and four or five of Yoshiko’s henchmen got sucked into the earth right before her eyes. Rumors had been floating around that the Praying Mantises put a couple of high power espers on the payroll. So she must have concluded the girl was one of them. The Hippos have been hiring espers for themselves too. This showdown was a long time coming.”
“Scary,” said Sayaka behind him. She sounded truly unnerved. “To think that a girl could suck people into the earth. It sounds more like that demon.”
“It sure does.” Kyoya nodded. For the time being, her ignorance was her strength. “But an esper battle sounds interesting. What? We can spare a few minutes.”
“Yes. Ah, it’s started.”
The first contestants from the two groups proceeded to the center of the plaza. The Hippo’s esper was a short, stocky middle-aged man. The Mantises sent in a tall and gangly guy, skin and bones. Also middle-aged. In fact, aside from their ages, the rest of the espers tended to physically resemble the gangs they represented.
Kyoya wondered aloud, “What, do espers fall into the tall and skinny category and the short and fat category?”
Sayaka said, “No, I think it all comes down to the leader’s predilections. They seek out their own. Birds of a feather.”
“Makes sense.”
Kyoya thought it a dumb theory, though when Sayaka said it with a serious face, it was hard not to take seriously.
The buzzing crowd unexpectedly quieted. The stocky esper crossed his arms in front of his chest. The gangly one made a sign with his fingers. The paranormal battle had begun.
The eyes of the skinny esper flashed with an incandescent fire. Twin rays of heat penetrated the stocky esper’s chest. People in the crowd behind him hit the dirt as the rays flashed over their heads and smashed into a nearby shop. The esper’s chest and the shop burst into magnesium-white flames.