Even this was costly. The birds were too few before, and now they’re even fewer.
Ideally, she would have had enough birds at her call to watch over every opponent and provide her with complete awareness of the battlefield. But that was the world of the ideal. What she had was reality. The ghost city had, by definition, been a city. That meant fewer birds and far fewer species compared to more rural areas. She’d expended a significant number of those, and reinforcements were limited.
Chicken didn’t feel any particular love for her birds; nor was she particularly sad that some had given their lives in sacrifice to protect hers. But she didn’t like losing them. She also didn’t like that the departing survivors hadn’t lifted a finger—or a beak, rather—to the carcasses of their compatriots, which they had simply left behind. She’d never known those ravenous creatures to leave any table scraps.
They must be full, Chicken thought.
Even if she happened across Snake’s walking corpse, she wouldn’t be able to summon another Sky Burial. At least not until she gave the birds a little time to digest.
I’d better back off for the time being. I’ll put the birds back on recon duty.
And so Chicken set out to put some space between her and the other fighters. For now, she was content that she had disposed of one corpse.
Even though Chicken didn’t think deeply on her decision to dispose of Boar’s corpse, she resisted the lure of a bolder move—for example, tracking Boar until the roaming corpse rejoined Rabbit and Snake and attempting to take out all three in one fell swoop—and instead made a small, but real, change to the course of the Zodiac War. The necromanticist’s ability to forge an unbreakable alliance posed as significant a threat as Dog had suspected. If let be, Rabbit would bring the battle to a swift and decisive conclusion. But just as his alliance was getting off the ground, Chicken put the brakes on it—and that was a major accomplishment.
No matter how dangerous a fighter Rabbit was, with only Snake at his command, he was not in a position to make any big moves. The ambush that had worked so effectively against Boar would not be easily replicated—the only reason he was able to take Boar by complete surprise was the location of their stand-off, right where the battle had started, where Snake’s dead body was both nearby and entirely inconspicuous. Now Rabbit would have no choice but to adopt a more reactive stance.
The actions of the clever, duplicitous Team Chicken and Dog had succeeded in bringing the Zodiac War into a deadlock, and the fighter in the best position to capitalize on this stalemate was none other than Chicken. No matter how limited the number of her flock, given enough time, the birds would reveal her opponents wherever their hiding places might be.
Chicken only faced one problem—she didn’t realize the extent of her advantage. She was used to fighting from a position of weakness and inexperience and making an unfavorable position work to her benefit. Actually having the advantage was decidedly unfamiliar to her. Were she to grasp the nature of the position she now held, she would surely put it to good use. But before she had that chance, a voice called out to her.
“Hey, lady,” the voice said.
Chicken was inside a convenience store far away from the street where Boar had received her burial-of-sorts. Watching the birds feed hadn’t exactly been appetizing, but nevertheless, Chicken sought to fortify herself with a meal as well. Some fighters were of the opinion that taking time to eat during a battle was imprudent at best, but Chicken was not one for fighting on an empty stomach. Fortunately for her, the coolers’ contents had been left behind, and she was just taking her pick from the various drinks and prepared foods when the voice spoke.
She turned and saw the teenaged boy who had been half—or maybe even fully—asleep through much of the opening assembly.
With a startled cry, Chicken scooped up Cockscomb and pointed its three tips at her opponent. He was just a boy, delicate and not so well built. In her powered-up state, could Chicken take him in close combat? Should she summon her birds to at least give her more vantage points?
“Ahh, give it a rest,” he said, as listlessly as before. “I don’t mean to fight you.” He raised his hands in the universal gesture of surrender. But Chicken knew better than to trust that for more than it was worth.
She asked, “H-how did you know to find me here?”
“I didn’t. I just came here to find some food, same as you.”
If Chicken had understood the advantage she held in the battle, she might have held off on her meal and done more to solidify her position, and she might not have so incautiously gone into this convenience store. If what the boy said was true, and this was mere coincidence, then it was still a coincidence her carelessness had brought upon her.
As Chicken nursed her embarrassment at having put herself in this entirely avoidable situation, the boy said, “Well, I might as well introduce myself.
“I am Nezumi, the Fighter of the Rat. I kill inexorably.”
Chicken hadn’t expected him to have the proper manners to give the customary introduction. Of course, she hadn’t expected him at all—which was why, too caught by surprise, she failed to respond with hers in turn.
So he’s Rat …
She had heard that his was an exceedingly peculiar clan, but her Eye of the Cormorant hadn’t ever been able to find out anything about him.
“And you are?” the boy asked.
“Oh, er, I’m Niwatori, the Fighter of the Chicken,” she said somewhat vacuously, but better late than never. “I kill by pecks.”
“Uh-huh,” Rat said, giving her the once-over with those sleepy eyes and going to no lengths to hide it. “Oh, that’s right, you raised your hand back there, didn’t you?”
“Back where? Oh. Yes, I did.” Chicken had almost forgotten. “With Monkey, yes. What about it?”
She had volunteered to join Monkey, albeit with the full intention of betraying her. Rat raised his hand too—first, in fact, which had made it easier for Chicken to follow.
“W-why do you ask?” Chicken said.
“Come with me,” Rat replied. “I’ll take you to where Monkey is.”
Rat took her back underground. This time, it wasn’t any car park where a bird might enter, should it be struck by the inclination, but a place where entrance required lifting a manhole cover. The sewer was perhaps the most obvious of hiding places, but with the entire city abandoned, far more savory shelters abounded, and few would think to seek out any quarry here. At the very least, it would likely have remained in Chicken’s blind spot had she not been ushered here like this. Even now, Chicken was having trouble believing anyone would put up with the lack of electricity and that god-awful stench to set up base here for a long stretch.
“Ah, Nezumi-kun, you’re back,” Monkey said. Chicken had suspected that Monkey wouldn’t actually be here, but here she was. “Did you find any food?” Then, noticing Chicken, she said, “Oh, who did you bring?”