“Don’t take this the wrong way, but would I happen to find a bite mark or two if I peeled back all those layers?”
“We’re clean.” Otoha and I shook our heads in protest.
“And why should I take your word for it? Take off your clothes, right here, right now, and I might be a little more inclined to believe you. Not that anyone’s forcing you, of course.” She gestured with her shotgun.
“Are you two related, by any chance?” I asked.
“Don’t even go there,” Otoha growled.
“I was just trying to lighten the mood.”
“Enough chitchat. Just get on with it. I want to see you two in your birthday suits... now.”
“Like, buck naked? You’re out of your mind.”
There was an entire horde of zombies waiting right outside, practically begging for us to come out. If we were gonna get thrown back out there, I at least wanted to die with some dignity.
“Free yourselves of society’s shackles and become one with Mother Nature.”
“Now I’m even more convinced. Either way, we’re not stripping for your amusement. Do what you will.”
“Aw, man. Almost had ’em.”
As much as I would’ve loved to pry, I loved being alive more, so I kept my mouth shut. The way her left eye was twitching told me there was no point in agitating her any further.
Criminally gorgeous yet missing a few screws... Where have I seen that before?
Suddenly, the twitching stopped, and she set down her shotgun. “Please accept my sincerest apologies for my insensitive conduct. Rest assured, it won’t happen again.” She graced us with a deep bow.
Now that my life wasn’t in any immediate danger, I could take a step back and reassess the situation.
The maid’s dainty physique didn’t exactly scream “cold-blooded killing machine,” but looks could be deceiving.
Also, didn’t she, like, shoot that thing four times total? That’d be highly unusual in light of Japan’s shotgun capacity laws, which only allow for a maximum of up to three shells loaded at any given time—two in the magazine and one in the chamber.
The only feasible explanation was that she must’ve combat loaded the last shell. For the uninitiated, combat loading was drawing and loading a fresh shell during combat. It was a highly specialized technique, one you’d only expect to see from trained professionals in the field of... battle.
“Zino, you can drop the act. I know it’s you.”
It wasn’t unusual for girls to play as male characters to avoid any unwanted attention from the predominantly male fanbase, so who was I to judge? Zino was Zino, regardless of arbitrary gender distinctions.
How she’d managed to overcome the massive discrepancy between her real self and the character model was beyond me, though. The general consensus was that the resulting motion sickness was too big a handicap for any serious player. Not that I’d tried it myself, of course.
“Pardon?” She tilted her head in confusion.
“It’s me. Hound Nine, remember?”
“Hound Nine, now where did I...?” She stopped to think for a moment. “Oh, I see! Yes, that makes perfect sense. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Hound Nine.”
I didn’t expect her to make the connection so quickly, but I felt relieved we’d finally cleared that up. Now I just had to make sure we were on the same page in terms of formalities.
“Why you gotta do me like this, bro? Stick with Hound Nine from now on, capisce? We’re way past the ‘Mr.’ phase.”
Formalities had no place in a fated reunion between two absolute FPS warlords.
“You’ve got the wrong person, I’m afraid.” She let out a long sigh. “This ‘Zino’ you’re referring to is Lady Shino; I’m merely a house maid.” She bowed once more. “Tetsuko Uemura, at your service, Mr. Hound Nine.”
“Did you just say ‘Lady’?”
Like the kind that speaks in a posh, over-the-top accent as her golden curls dangle majestically in the air? No, wait, that’s just a comically exaggerated caricature that in no way reflects reality... But then again, maids are apparently still a thing in this day and age, so maybe it’s not entirely out of the question?
“You’ll be delighted to know that Lady Shino spoke very highly of you, Mr. Hound Nine.”
“You don’t say...”
Just then, I was struck by a very unpleasant realization. I had gone up to some random maid, an outsider, and told her in no uncertain terms to call me by my FPS handle.
Not sure if she meant it as a passive-aggressive gesture, but “Mr. Hound Nine” sounded awfully condescending. Admittedly, I probably deserved it, but it made me cringe every single time. I was very proud of my roleplay persona, but hearing it uttered from the lips of an outsider felt completely and utterly wrong.
“Come along, now. Milady is expecting you.” With that, she turned on her heel and strode off.
Otoha and I exchanged glances before following suit.
“Hiroaki,” she said, leaning toward me with a sincere expression. “Should I call you ‘Mr. Hound Nine’ from now on?”
“Oh, give me a break.”
✦ ✦ ✦
We stopped by a plain white door at the end of a lengthy hallway. No nameplate, no decoration, nothing. Yep, just your average door.
The huge spaces between the doors, though, not so much. In fact, they were anything but average. I could tell we were going to be in for a real treat.
“And here we are. Any questions?”
“Plenty, actually.”
“Wonderful. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have other matters to attend to.” Ignoring me, the maid bowed and walked away, leaving us all by ourselves.
Otoha coughed. “So, uh, should we let ourselves in, or...?”
“I think so?”
We just stared at the door for a while, feeling uneasy.
Didn’t mansions typically come with a guest room or two? Couldn’t we just have, oh, I dunno, used one of those? I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but I sensed there was something fishy going on.
Finally, Otoha broke the silence. “We only have one shot at this. I go right and you go left.” She leaned against the door and readied her shovel.
“Care to explain?”
“Rule number one: never trust anybody, especially shady characters like that maid.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“We’re walking into a trap—and it’s hardly original,” she said, sounding confident.
“Now why would she do something like that?”
The only one who could’ve laid a trap for us was Tetsuko, but she probably had neither the time nor the motive to do anything of the sort. At the same time, it was kinda suspicious that she’d taken us directly to her mistress’ room.
“Look, zombies are human, but they also aren’t.”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
If I didn’t recognize them as “human,” there’d be no moral dilemma in offing zombies. I knew firsthand that this wasn’t the case.
“Would you have the guts to kill a loved one if they went zombie?”
“I, umm...”
“You wouldn’t. Humans are innately irrational; they’ll cling to their precious little memories even if they have to defile them.”
“Humans, am I right?” I rolled my eyes for comedic effect.
“That’s why they’re willing to lock away their loved ones and pretend everything’s just the way it was. It’s a trope, especially in long-running TV shows.”
“You’re jumping to conclusions.”
Could I honestly say there was no way the maid was about to feed us to her zombie mistress locked away behind this very door? No, of course not, but you could make that same argument for just about anything. Being skeptical of others’ intentions was one thing; assuming they had ill intentions was another.
“If something can go wrong, it’s best to assume that it will.”
“I’m not okay with this.”
“Fine by me.” With a shrug, she reached for the doorknob.
Otoha was going to stick to her guns no matter what, and Tetsuko wasn’t exactly the sanest-looking person I’d ever met. Otoha was just as kooky, if not even more so, but she wore it on her sleeve. Tetsuko was her polar opposite in that regard. In other words, the maid couldn’t be trusted.
“Okay, fine, but I go first.”
“Now, hold on a second—”
“I. Go. First.”
The last thing I wanted was a repeat of what happened back at the police station.
“Sure. Knock yourself out.”
“On three. One... Two... Three!”
I unholstered my trusty SAKURA and flung the door open.
The room we’d entered was absurdly spacious, easily over three times the size of my bedroom. Well, the kicker was that it was only one of two rooms, sectioned off by a sliding door.
Surprisingly, the interior wasn’t anywhere near as ornate as the exterior. Here I’d been expecting lavish, baroque-style, antique furniture and whatnot but was faced with the exact opposite.
The furniture was sleek and geometric, the color scheme monochromatic. Textbook minimalist design.
There was just one piece of furniture in particular that stuck out like a sore thumb: the canopy bed. Yes, its design did adhere to the minimalist theme, but come on, canopy beds are something you’d normally see in a kids’ movie about princesses.
Kinda surreal, but appropriate considering she’s a modern-day noble, I guess.
I walked up to the bed and pulled back the curtain.
“Zino... is that really you?”
And there she was, the prettiest thing on the planet, sleeping like a baby.
Her long, flowing, flaxen hair and her well-defined facial features were dead giveaways that she was of European stock. That combined with her refined sleeping posture gave her a Sleeping Beauty vibe. Clearly she’d had a good upbringing.