Dodging the downpour, shortly after noon a small man arrived at the front lobby of Mephisto Hospital. Even without seeing the face beneath the long hair that reached his waist, from the way his body was bent forward like a hinge, this was clearly Hyota.
He told the receptionist the reason for his visit and was promptly shown to an examination room. Where Mephisto was waiting.
“You must be the servant of Gento Roran, the man I met at the Coliseum.”
“That is correct.” Hyota bowed. He was already so twisted over that from the back, the gesture seemed to make his head completely disappear.
“So, how can I help you?”
“If you would accompany me—”
“Right away?”
“As soon as possible.”
Mephisto glanced out the window. “A house call in the rain. It’s been a while.”
“I truly appreciate it.” Hyota bowed again.
“There is something I must tend to first.”
Mephisto smiled. Hyota blanched a bit. There was something about that face that sent a chill down even his warped spine. It was not evil that suffused the smile that rose to those lips, but a far more fundamental source of dread and awe.
Not even that genie Setsura Aki, himself a child of the darkness, along with Gento Roran, could muster up such a smile. This was Doctor Mephisto, after all. Perhaps the very devil himself.
“What do you wish me to do?” Hyota said, unable to suppress the slight tremble in his voice. This frightening man himself was more frightened than when he’d encountered Setsura in the Golden Gai.
“There’s a little conflict I wish to settle.”
Hyota had guessed as much. His shaken features grew all the paler. Fighting Mephisto as well had never been in the cards. And yet a ruddy glow crept into his eyes.
“There’s no need to fret so. I have no desire to come to blows with you,” Mephisto smiled again.
“You don’t?”
“Last night, two of our colleagues interrupted a hallowed competition and carried off the prize as well. That upset some folks. They have me under surveillance. I’d like you to take care of it.”
“Understood,” Hyota said at once, like an executive secretary arranging for a car to pick up the company president.
Except that the men Setsura and Gento had “upset” at the Coliseum were hardly the typical fight promoters. More like the godfathers of their own gangs. When they put their efforts into a task, they should be able to track down the slipperiest suspect.
They’d concluded it was Mephisto that helped make Setsura look like a corpse. It was only natural that they’d view him with equal suspicion.
“Setsura and your master can fend for themselves. I, on the other hand, have no retainers of my own. Perhaps I could get you to do a little bodyguard work?”
“A piece of cake. And where are these troublesome insects?”
Mephisto gestured with his right hand. A portion of the wall turned into a snapshot of the real world, the holographic monitor.
“On the street in front of the hospital.”
Hyota focused his gaze. Behind the hair hanging down to his chin, his eyes narrowed to barely more than slits.
Kuyakusho Street. The camera slowly panned to the left, past a row of restaurants, revealing two men in suits in the adjacent alley. They were looking at the hospital with reptilian eyes. The camera stopped.
“Them?”
Mephisto nodded.
“It will take but a minute. But—”
“But—?”
“Kill two cockroaches and there will soon be a thousand more just like them.”
“I couldn’t care less. The problem is not those two in particular, but your particular skills.”
“You will have no reason to be dissatisfied with those skills.”
✦ ✦ ✦
Hyota left the examination room and returned to the lobby. Outside it was raining. Crushed beneath his feet, the rusty red flowers gasped out puffs of crimson pollen. The rain grew heavier, the spray flying off his body. He practically disappeared, obscured by the mist surrounding him.
A plastic awning sheltered the alley where the men were waiting. These canopies had been erected by the ward government. Several other pedestrians had taken shelter there as well.
The two men stood at the entrance to the alley. The slicked-back hair of one was parted over his left temple. The other had his hair parted over the right. Each was holding an umbrella.
Hyota stopped in front of them. Their eyes flicked downwards in a what the hell expression. Outside Shinjuku, the weirdness of the scene would have been overwhelming. Here it was barely out of the ordinary.
“Yeah?” said the one with the hair parted on the left.
Hyota peered up at him. “Come with me,” he said.
He spoke in subdued tones, his voice rising up like a ghostly miasma. But the men clearly heard him. Mr. Left Part lowered his hips and settled down in a boxing stance. The bulge in his black suit under his left shoulder was clearly that of a gun. But he was the type who preferred to settle disagreements with his bare hands.
Mr. Right Part stood there, not moving.
Hyota turned and proceeded toward Kabuki-cho. If these punks had class to match their threads, they would follow him.
They didn’t.
Right Part made the first move. Holding the umbrella with a reverse grip, he charged at Hyota, aiming for the back of his neck.
Hyota scooted forward. The tip of the umbrella slashed through empty air, striking a stone on the sidewalk and cleaving it in two. The tip of the umbrella was made of ballistic-grade synthetic polymer. Considering the force behind it, the man had to be heavily juiced.
Hyota came to a halt. “So, a swordsman, eh?”
Right Part raised the umbrella in an en garde stance. Left Part circled around Hyota, blocking any attempt to retreat.
As the rain pounded down on them, the two men might have already realized the folly of engaging this particular opponent. So low to the ground, their well-honed fighting stances grew stiff and overextended.
Hyota rose no higher than the man’s waist, forcing him to bend over all the more to get within striking distance. Whether fighting hand-to-hand or with a sword, striking at an opponent lower in height than the outstretched arm diminished the power and speed of a blow.
With a rebel yell, Right Part charged at him, drawing back the umbrella to the right as he kicked up his left foot. A black mass flashed through the air like a shooting star, all but searing the air.
Hyota soared skywards. The shooting star flew towards his face. Right Part’s kick had sent his shoe flying. Go high or go low and one was guaranteed to connect. A perfectly timed attack.
Seeing his shoe strike home, Right Part stabbed the umbrella at Hyota’s midsection, a killing blow.
The shoe came to a sudden halt right below Hyota’s nose. Hyota grabbed it in his mouth. The umbrella thrust wavered. No resistance met the jab, the tip transmitting only a slight impact.
Right Part stared harder. Hyota perched on top of the umbrella. Right Part let go of it. Hyota jumped backwards. Startled, Left Part retreated as well, his faith in his partner’s abilities badly shaken.
Hyota was faster.
Left Part didn’t wait to get his legs under him before throwing a right jab. Hyota spun around, planted his hands on Left Part’s head, and vaulted over him, at an almost leisurely speed.
By the time he’d stuck the dismount—as well as any gymnast—his two opponents had splashed face-down onto the sidewalk.
The rain engulfing his body like a cloak, without a backwards glance, Hyota ran back to Mephisto Hospital.
✦ ✦ ✦
Creepy creatures converged on the two dead men from all directions. Then the scene went gray and winked out. With a flick of his fingers, Mephisto turned off the monitor and instructed the electronics to store the images for future reference.
Hyota entered the room a minute later and bowed.
“Quite the performance. I knew from the first moment we met that you were far from the ordinary.”
“I appreciate your kind words.”
Mephisto announced through the intercom that he was going out. They proceeded to the front foyer, Hyota in front. The world outside was muddled and misshapen behind the haze of rain, stained with a rainbow of eerie hues.
“Climb on board.”
“What?”
“Piggyback. It is much faster than a taxi.”
“Fascinating.”
Mephisto did as Hyota asked. Hyota set off running. Wherever they were headed, the sudden intensity of the wind and rain notwithstanding, the curious shape of the two of them soon disappeared out of view.