But unlike Snake, Dragon had been freshly killed, and blood gushed from where he had been cut open. Tiger’s Drunken Fist was more fueled by blood than booze, and the sight somewhat sobered her rage. She even growled in anticipation. These were not the habits of a fighter, but those of a drunkard—yet she didn’t leap into battle. Realizing that the stalemate had now made a dramatic turn for the worse, she backed away.
When Dragon plummeted from the skies, so too did Ox and Tiger’s fortunes plummet. Their two-to-one advantage had become two-to-two.
Rather, it was four-to-two.
They faced four opponents: Snake’s headless, armless corpse; Dragon’s upper body; Dragon’s lower body; and Snake’s head, currently in Dragon’s arms. Even worse for Ox and Tiger—though they had no way of knowing it—Rabbit had issued Snake a new command. Snake now shared a mission with his brother; the twin scourges of the battlefield were reunited in battle.
The younger twin had been instructed to kill Ox and Tiger. Up until now, Ox and Tiger could have broken free from the fight simply by running away. Now that option was blocked to them.
Rabbit was bringing the war to an end. The necromanticist hadn’t pulled Snake off his pursuit because he was saving the sleepy boy for later. Rather, as a result of the severed head’s aerial reconnaissance, he had narrowed down the youth’s escape route and sent the nearby Monkey to deal with him.
The Twelfth Zodiac War neared its final stages, and only four challengers remained. Rabbit only needed to kill Rat, Ox, and Tiger, and the victory would be his. This called not for restraint but for a swift conclusion. When he considered that all Rat had done so far was scurry about, only Ox and Tiger truly stood between him and victory.
None of this was lost on Ox. Now that the necromanticist had set all his forces to attack, the swordfighter knew the Zodiac War was drawing to a close. He understood that to stall for time only risked the arrival of further reinforcements.
“Tiger,” Ox said. “Do you have any bright ideas? Some kind of special ability that can get us out of this? Maybe you can fly or glide along the ground.”
“Sorry, all I’ve got is my Drunken Fist. I don’t have anything that can deal with enemies who refuse to die even after I rip them to shreds.”
“I see. Well, don’t feel bad. I don’t have anything either.”
Perhaps less than any other warrior of the day, Ox had no special ability—the saber-wielder just killed—and he might have been the least suited to this kind of aberrant adversary. But even if Rabbit weren’t a necromanticist, a meeting between him and Ox could only conclude with one of their deaths—they possessed two distinct forms of genius that the swordfighter could never reconcile.
“I’m not much for trickery,” Ox said, “and it’s been a while since I’ve had to devise some strategy—but there’s a time for everything. I want you to take a look at that floating half. Do you recognize that thing strapped to its back?”
Confusion in her voice, Tiger said, “Isn’t it a flamethrower like his brother’s?”
“If anything, it’s the opposite—an icethrower. The tank probably contains liquid hydrogen.”
“So? What’s liquid hydrogen do?”
“Don’t you see? It can—”
But before Ox could finish, the battle started. The opposing side’s wordless strategy session had concluded first—more likely due to the brothers’ lifelong history of teamwork than to the necromanticist’s leadership.
The elder twin threw his younger brother’s head like a shot put ball toward Ox. Rather than lodge any complaint at the indignity, Snake’s mouth opened wide, ready to sink his teeth into the swordfighter. Even at three centimeters long, a snake will try to swallow a man.
Slicing the head with his saber wasn’t an option, and catching it posed an unnecessary risk. He could have dodged the head, but doing so would put it somewhere behind him, and he couldn’t predict what would happen next. It was a small object, and if it hid somewhere out of sight, dealing with it would become far more difficult. The head might come at him from the shadows and bring about a repeat of the same crisis from which he’d just escaped. Worst case, the thing could bite him on the neck.
Left with no other choice, Ox kicked the head straight up. It was the appropriate response but also exactly what the twins had wanted him to do. As the head spun upward, its eyes acted as a 360-degree panoramic camera. What Snake’s head saw, it transmitted not only to his headless, armless body, but directly to Dragon’s two halves as well, with no need for Rabbit to act as interlocutor. With Snake’s head in the air, they secured an overwhelmingly advantageous view of the battle.
Certainly, Dragon’s upper half could have simply thrown the head into the air, but he also sought to create an opening in Ox’s guard. The two deceased twins intended to settle this fight before the head came back down—or rather, Rabbit intended it for them. The necromanticist instinctively sensed that a prolonged fight against the Natural-Born Slayer would not be to his advantage. Just as he was Ox’s natural enemy, Ox was his.
“I am Tatsumi the Elder, the Fighter of the Dragon. I kill for the money.”
“I am Tatsumi the Younger, the Fighter of the Snake. I kill for the money.”
That was what they would have said had they still been alive. Ox and Tiger prepared themselves for the twins’ attack—coming from three directions.
“I am Ushii, the Fighter of the Ox. I just kill.”
“I am Tora, the Fighter of the Tiger. I kill with drunken power.”
Though the two were expert fighters and favored champions, their announcement did not strike the corpses with awe. Nothing could deter the emotionless attack of the undead. When the rush came, it was dizzying, and more varied and three-dimensional than any Ox or Tiger had ever faced.