The streets were bustling with activities. Now that nightfall was to swallow the city in a few hours, sunset was imminent.
Wolf, Genichiro, and Kuro were now in the middle of the streets, aimlessly wandering from block to block. The Divine Heir walked close to the One-Armed Wolf with Ashina's commander leading the front a few paces ahead. Due to the concrete ground soaking up all the heat, heat waves loomed from all corners of the city. Despite the humidity and the temperature, the Japanese trio suffered little heat exhaustion: Genichiro, due to his superhuman powers gained from consuming the Rejuvenating Waters, pressed on with no difficulties in movement despite the weight and stuffiness of his black armor set. With the Dragon's Blood flowing in their veins, Wolf and Kuro exhibited neither irritation nor difficulties as well. The three could feel the hotness of the sun rays latching on their skin, but none of them perspired as physiological reaction.
Except for the grandson of Isshin, who was mentally pressed on returning to Ashina, the shinobi and the Divine Heir were marvelled by the bustling spectacles around them from moving cars, people dressed in casual clothings, to the rundown rectangular buildings around them. The young master and the warrior servant couldn't keep their eyes off of the passengers riding inside the passing vehicles.
"What do you suppose those things are supposed to be, Wolf..?" inquired Kuro out of genuine curiosity.
"Transports..like horses, I believe, my Lord," responded Wolf.
"Ah, yes! Indeed! You may be right, Wolf! How interesting.."
After sighting the vehicles, they shifted their captivated attention toward the crowd of people around them. The One-Armed Wolf and the Divine Heir found it genuinely interesting seeing the distinct range of skin colors and facial anatomies of the crowd. Asians, Latinos, Blacks, Whites, and several countless more races scattered all around their vicinity. The anachronistic individuals spotted several people with tattoos marked and piercings riddled on their skin from head to toe. Some were idly resting their backs against the walls, smoking and doing all sorts of drug-related activities. Those that were on overdose were seen slumped across the streets, unresponsive with most of them in blissful coma with the rest of the few confirmed dead with saliva and puke stains coating their gaped mouths. Sightings of homeless begging on the streets, holding out signs and extending out their hands, began to fill the streets the deeper the trio ventured in. An elderly American Vietnam War veteran with a missing leg, despite the three's ancient appearances, reached out for the Japanese trio. A flea-infested, rugged-furred Greyhound dog with its tongue stuck out sat itself next to the bearded veteran.
"Hey, you three!"
The three ceased their walking and gazed at the veteran.
"Care to spare a dying old buddy of yours some change? As you can see, I've lost my leg during service and I gots me an ol' poochy of mine to feed," explained the American. Genichiro returned his gaze to the front and ignored the beggar, continuing forth onwards. As for Wolf, he approached the veteran, reached in one of his inner chest pockets, and retrieved out a small pouch. He gave the pouch to the beggar, who gladly accepted it with both hands. The Divine Heir smiled upon sighting Wolf's magnanimity.
"May God bless your souls! You two are alright in my book," thanked the veteran with a smile, revealing his white-yellowish teeth. The two ancient individuals continued forth to quickly catch up with Ashina's commander in the front.
"That was awfully generous of you, Wolf," complimented Kuro. The shinobi nodded once in return. In the meantime, the American veteran felt the heavier-than-it-looks weight of the given pouch and couldn't wipe the grin off of his wrinkly face. The beggar that sat next to him was rather curious on how much of value was inside the pouch. Even the veteran's curious Greyhound couldn't keep its golden-brown eyes off of the pouch.
"How much in that pocket?"
"I'm about to find out," responded the veteran, giving out a cheeky laughter; he unwrapped the opening of the pouch and peeked inside. Much to his confusion, he frowned at the beggar next to him.
"The fuck are these..?"
The veteran carelessly dumped out the insides of the pouch, spilling out dozens of golden Sen coins, which all clattered on the dirty ground in front of him. Sighting the coins much to his amusement, the other beggar gave the veteran a shrug.
"Beats me. At least they're all shiny and gold, so there's that."
Brothels doused in pink-blue LED signs hoarded the current area the trio were venturing through and were crowded with freelancing, scantily-dressed prostitutes. As the day was steadily surrendering to darkness with little sunlight visible, the crowds around the trio tripled in quantity. They were currently at the most densely-populated area of the city: LED-illuminated nightclubs that had their entrances blockaded with thugs hovering their arms around the shoulders of prostitutes appeared in their sights. Subwoofers from passing cars and nightclubs erupted to the streets in a deafening brouhaha. Some of the thuggish-appearing individuals were dressed in casual attires while the others made an effort to look more "classy" in fashionable business suits and sunglasses. Security guards of Asian ethnicities dressed in black suits and sunglasses were frequently spotted by the trio that were seen guarding bigger-sized buildings. The guards were most likely working under sub-divisions of the Chinese Triad.
Ever since the ancient Japanese trio set their feet on the streets, they were initially met with awkward, confused gazes from the far outskirts of the city. It was common for the outskirt people to distance away from the anachronistic natives, obviously due to sociological reasons coming to play. The outer crowds frowned in weirded-out countenances and went as far as to secretively jeering and gossiping the trio behind their backs without them knowing. However, when the three Japanese reached deeper in the heart of the city, they were met with outright bitter, condescending verbal insults constantly thrown at them in every one-to-two minutes.
A car slowed down besides the three and from one of its windows popped out a tattooed individual that was in his early twenties. He cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted out the following to the trio in English:
"NICE ANIME CONVENTION COSTUMES, YOU FUCKING SORE LOSERS!"
The rest of the passengers within the car bursted in hyena-like laughters with the vehicle speeding onwards to the front, leaving a trail of black smoke exuding out of the car's exhaust. Due to language barriers, Genichiro merely frowned at the departing vehicle with Wolf doing the same. Although he was surprised at first, Kuro didn't mind the sudden hostile greeting at all since he thought the riders were offering them an animate, gregarious welcome. The spectators of thugs and prostitutes found the trio's ancient attires, especially those of Genichiro, to be amusing and laughable. They laughed out-loud behind their backs. Some of the thugs were willing to engage the shinobi and Ashina's commander with their wide assortments of melee weapons that ranged from rusty knives to baseball bats. However, they decided to lay low in the end upon sighting the ancient warriors' katanas, which they feared to be genuine, and Genichiro's great-sized bow, wisely backing off for now. Not only did the curved weapons internally frighten the thugs, but also the calm, collected, and veteran look on Wolf's and Genichiro's faces further turned down their aggressiveness. Most of the thugs in the city learned a valuable lesson of mistreating guests with weird preferences for attires ever since the two maids of the Lovelace Family household, Roberta Cisneros, also known as the "Bloodhound of Florencia," and Fabiola Iglesias, first walked in the city and paid a formal yet not-so-formal visit at a certain bar run by a Vietnam veteran. Dressed in gothic lolita attires, the deceased Romanian Vampire Twins, Hansel and Gretel, were no exception to this case.
Further ahead, the surroundings around the trio worsened to a considerable degree much to the initial discomfort of the Divine Heir: Masses of crowds circled around thugs engaging in bloody fist fights. A barely-conscious, brutally-beaten drunkard with swollen purple bruises all around his face was thrown over the railings from a top floor by a group of drunken thugs. As he was falling to the depths like a ragdoll, the man screamed in horror until he crash-landed on a car's roof, which bent inwards, with all four of its windows shattering to pieces and clattering on the ground. Much to the bafflement of Wolf, Kuro, and even Genichiro himself, the wild, brash people around the deceased drunkard laughed and cheered while mindlessly clapping and whistling along. The Japanese trio were stunned by the primal behaviors of the city's residents and found them to be morally sickening in a way. Due to the stark differences between their's and the city's culture, the ancient Japanese were slightly uncomfortable with their current state of surroundings. Genichiro doubled his pace and, whilst speed-walking forward, snapped his face behind to Wolf.
"Pick up the pace, shinobi – and keep the Divine Heir close," he advised. The One-Armed Wolf nodded and immediately grabbed the Divine Heir's hand, picking up the pace to the side of Genichiro. A hundred meters ahead, they encountered a group of thugs circling around a beaten Spanish tourist, who was sobbing in a fetal position with his hands covering the back of his head. The thugs repeatedly kicked the bloodied, injured tourist on the head, back, ribs, and stomach in a remorseless, merciless demeanor. There was a Hispanic police officer dressed in a uniform just a block away, but he was too distracted in conversing with the prostitutes that surrounded him, laughing and smiling along – completely oblivious of the fact that a man just a few meters ahead of him was dying. The tourist picked the wrong part of the city to casually walk in.
"This pussy got anything with him?" asked one of the thugs. Another of the thugs crouched besides the tourist and searched his pockets, jacking his wallet, phone, and a golden watch that was strapped on his wrist.
"Oh, he's got something alright."
"Let's bounce the fuck outta here."
Kuro attempted to reason with the ancient warriors to help the beaten tourist in any way they could. It was rather sickening for the Divine Heir to witness such an atrocious act taking place in front of his eyes.
"That man is in need of help..We ought to help – "
"We press onwards. We cannot delay in our journey for Ashina," interrupted the commander of Ashina; he generally felt little to no sympathy for the weak. However, if the tourist had been a denizen of the Ashina clan, then he would've had gladly rescued him. Since it wasn't the case, and since the tourist was far from being an Ashina citizen as a white-skinned European foreigner, he was disinclined to intervene.
"Lord Genichiro, please.."
Genichiro ignored the Divine Heir's sentiment and didn't stop for anything. Knowing that it was rather difficult to convince Genichiro, Kuro faced to Wolf instead.
"You would help, right, Wolf?"
The shinobi nodded to his young master in response.
"Stay here," instructed Wolf; he let go of Kuro's hand and, passing the grandson of Isshin, headed for the thugs much to Genichiro's strict disapproval.
"Shinobi..!" called out Genichiro. Wolf, however, wouldn't listen and continued forth. Ashina's commander sighed and, in the end, reluctantly followed behind the shinobi.
"Just this once then," claimed Genichiro. One of the thugs had his smiles dissipated once he sighted the ancient warriors approaching them. He tapped the shoulders of the leader thug to notify him of their incoming presence.
"Hey, check it out. We got company."
When the leader thug turned around to see Genichiro and Wolf encroaching them, he grinned and wheezed out a laughter upon seeing their anachronistic attires.
"Unbelievable. You guys seeing this shit?"
The rest of his crew of tatted thugs burst in an uproar of laughter as well. The straight-faced ancient warriors went face-to-face with the thugs.
"These motherfuckers got balls. I'll give em' that," continued to mock the leader thug, facing his crew, who wheezed out more laughters in return. With a cocky grin, the leader thug approached the two warriors and bulked up his chest in an attempt to look menacing and brawny.
"Hey, assholes. Y'all got a fucking problem? Why don't cha', you know, mind your own fucking business, you posing-ass weirdos?"
The subordinate thugs behind roared in another chain reaction of laughters. The One-Armed Wolf and the commander of Ashina, however, were far from amused.
"Return the belongings to the rightful owner," demanded Genichiro in his native tongue; his use of spoken Japanese didn't help pacify the situation any better.
"The fuck did he just say?" asked an amused thug, frowning.
"Something in the lines of 'ching-chong-ping-pong.' Ain't got no clue," responded another; again, they burst into laughter.
"I don't think these pretty boys heard you, boss," said a subordinate thug. The leader thug snickered and balled his right hand to a fist, preparing to strike at the grandson of Isshin on his cheek. The attentive Genichiro, however, was one step ahead as he noticed the thug's balled-up fist, which he raised up high above shoulder-level to daringly strike at the ancient warrior.
"They will once I pummel the fuck out of them – "
Without flinching, Genichiro caught the fist with his left hand.
" – ahhhh..! AHHHHHHHHH..!"
The leader thug, screaming from the top of his lungs, fell on his knees as Genichiro applied immense pressure on his fist. The thug's fist emitted audible cracking noises with trails of blood oozing to the concrete floor. No matter how hard the leader thug tried to budge from the grandson of Isshin, his efforts were proven futile as Genichiro was like an immovable statue. In a desperate attempt, he attempted to throw another punch at Ashina's commander with his other free hand – only to again get grabbed by the ancient warrior. The subordinate thugs around them simply watched in stunned, horrified awe of Genichiro's unrelenting strength.
"Holy shit.." one of them muttered. With both his hands being mercilessly crushed to bits of bones, his bloodshot eyes turned about to his subordinates. So excruciatingly and numbingly painful the process of having had both his hands steadily crushed by Genichiro was that he involuntarily drooled saliva from his mouth.
"WHAT THE FUCK ARE Y'ALL JUST STANDIN' THERE FOR?! FUCKING KILL THEM! NOOOOOW!" mindlessly shouted the leader thug. The subordinate thugs brandished pocket knives, ready to charge at the two warriors with everything they got. The One-Armed Wolf unsheathed his Kusabimaru katana, which its stainless blade was embellished with the neon lights of nearby nightclubs, restaurants, and brothels, and stepped in front of the grandson of Isshin. The hilt of Wolf's Kusabimaru was placed besides his temple and the tip of its curved blade pointed downwards in a reverse manner, readying himself in his usual battle stance. When the thugs compared the length and the breadth of Wolf's blade to those of their pocket knives, they staggered their feet backwards in fright and disengaged their knives: A few of them simply relinquished their knives to the ground and made a run for it with the rest following their lead as well, abandoning and leaving their boss to Wolf and Genichiro like cowards. They were low-tier thugs with not a single one of them armed with a firearm.
"Fuck it..! I'm outta here..!" cried a subordinate thug as he fled; he dropped the valuables he stole from the Spanish tourist and high-tailed out of there.
"FUCK YOU, YOU FUCKING NO-DICK COWARDS! FUCK YOUUUU – AHHHHHH..!"
Genichiro applied twice the pressure on the leader thug's hands, cracking more bones in the process. Unwilling to take the pain for any longer, he began to sob with tears flowing from his bloodshot eyes and attempted to reason with the commander of Ashina. He also involuntarily wheezed out more laughters due to the unbearably agonizing pain coming from his bleeding hands, which were now crumpled.
"Please..PLEASE..! I'M SORRY..! I TAKE BACK WHATEVER I FUCKING SAID..! PLEASE..I WAS BEING FUCKING RETARDED..! I DIDN'T MEAN WHAT I SAID EARLIER..!"
Seeing that the leader thug was on an apparent emotional breakdown, Genichiro quickly ended his pain by bringing his face closer to his and headbutting him with the forehead region of his black, red-trimmed helmet, knocking the thug out cold with his eyes rolled backwards. When the thug slumped on his back with a thud, the policeman, who was earlier distracted by the prostitutes, approached the trio from behind and unholstered his pistol, aiming the iron sight at the ancient warriors.
"I WANT YOU CLOWNS REACHING FOR THE SKIES! DROP THOSE FUCKING WEAP – "
In a split second, Ashina's commander retrieved his great-sized bow and a red-feathered arrow from his back with the shinobi summoning out his Loaded Shuriken from his Prosthetic Arm. They both fired their respective projectiles to the approaching policeman: Genichiro's arrow pierced the left leg of the policeman with Wolf's shuriken dealing paralyzing damage to his right leg, effectively crippling the officer. In reaction to sheer pain of having had both his legs pulsating with agonizing sensations, the so-called servant of justice fired off a round towards the sunsetting sky with trails of white smoke exuding out of its muzzle and with the expended golden round clinking on the concrete ground below. The ancient warriors were far from being fazed from hearing the full effects of the gunshot as they were already more-than-accustomed to hearing the cackles and the volatile discharges of the USS operator's firearms from their previous unexpected foreign destination in Raccoon City. The uproar from the fired sidearm vibrantly echoed throughout the streets, sending brief panic towards a few of the prostitutes, who instinctually screamed and cowered in reaction. The maimed policeman, who dropped his gun to the floor, retrieved his walkie-talkie while grunting and breathing heavily in severe pain. Blood flowed from his wounds. He spoke through the comms in a thick Hispanic accent:
"Yankee Nine-One to Whiskey..Two-Two..requesting immediate..reinforcements to – "
Genichiro approached the officer and kicked the walkie-talkie away from him.
"Whiskey Two-Two to Yankee Nine-One, say again ove – "
He then crushed the device underneath his boot. The ancient warrior then aimed his bow with his new arrow towards the policeman, who crab-walked away from him with his left hand hovering in front of his stunned face in an attempt to gesture mercy to the approaching warrior. Genichiro stomped his boot on the policeman's right thigh and pulled out the lodged arrow and the shuriken from the bleeding wounds. The officer grunted in extreme pain. Genichiro diagonally whipped the crimson arrow free of blood, decorating the ground with trails of red. While keeping his gaze locked at the downed officer, Genichiro then flung the bloodied shuriken to Wolf, who caught it without flinching and loaded the projectile back into his Loaded Shuriken prosthetic tool.
"P-P-Please..I swear..to fuckin' god I won't tell anyone..I'll keep my mouth shut – I'll own up to my promise..! You..got my word on that..You just gotta let me go..You hear me..?"
The commander of Ashina couldn't care less of what the officer was trying to say to him. He holstered his great-sized bow behind his back and his arrows in his quiver, drawing out his katana and pointing its whet tip directly between the enforcer's eyes, which went criss-crossed. The crowds of thugs and prostitutes, now fearing for their own lives, backed away a couple steps upon seeing the stainless blade and hearing the "schwing" sound effect that was emitted when Genichiro unsheathed his katana.
"Attempt to draw your weapon again – or even so much as touch it – you will face death sooner than you think," warned Genichiro; with the shook policeman unresponsive in silence, Genichiro drew the blade aside from the officer and glared at the crowding spectators, who circled around them in both awe and horror. The crowds of thugs and spectators initially thought of the ancient warriors to be at a clear disadvantage due to their reliance on outdated, anachronistic weaponries. However, when the two encountered the group of thugs and the policeman, they saw the strength of the grandson of Isshin when he effortlessly crushed the leader thug's hands. They saw how radiant the metallic edge of the Kusabimaru was once the One-Armed Wolf brandished it from his saya scabbard. They saw how quick-reacting and calm they were when Wolf and Genichiro simultaneously fired their respective projectiles to the now-maimed police officer. For most of hardened thugs that have had overstayed their welcome in the seemingly lawless and corrupt city, and for those that initially wanted to pick a bloody fight with the Japanese warriors, they imagined themselves in the unfortunate policeman's stead and went docile for the time being in complete silence. Some of the unfazed, veteran prostitutes, who were more-than-accustomed to seeing blood spilled from all corners of the streets, began opening up to Genichiro and Wolf upon seeing them partake in the heroic act of saving the Spanish tourist. They began to put aside their discriminatory perspectives toward the two warriors and felt somewhat infatuated to them with their faces heating up and their hearts pounding away. In the meantime, the shinobi, sheathing his Kusabimaru and picking up the tourist's valuables from the concrete ground, crouched besides the Spanish, helping him sit upright.
"Are you alright?" inquired Wolf in his native tongue. The bruised and bloodied-up tourist groaned and applied pressure to his left ribcage and to the back of his cranium, facing Wolf with gratitude with his swollen, purpled eyes.
"Th-Thank you.." said the tourist in an accent. The One-Armed Wolf extended out the tourist's belongings for the latter to retrieve it. The European outsider accepted the items and peeked inside the wallet to see if anything of his was stolen by the departed thugs. Thankfully, everything was in place that included his US-dollar bills, identification cards, and credit cards. Ecstatic, the Spanish smiled to the point of revealing both rows of his bloodied, white teeth. Relaxing his smile to a grin, he pulled out close to a thousand dollars worth of American dollars out of his wallet.
"I owe you both my – "
Coughing and spitting out bloodied saliva to the ground besides him, the Spanish extended out the hefty sum of money to Wolf, who only gazed at the paper currencies with slight confusion.
" – life..Take it..It's all yours to take.."
Wolf shook his head sideways and denied the reward given to him by gently pushing away the tourist's extended-out hand.
"No. I insist you keep – "
The Spanish grabbed Wolf's arm and forcefully jerked it towards him, slapping the hundred-dollar Benjamin Franklins right on the palm of the shinobi.
"Just take it..And don't think about handing me those back..! Honestly..you two deserve an amount a thousand times worth more than what I have just given you..Take it..It is my way of expressing my gratitude to you for saving my ass..Without you two coming in, I would be deadman.."
In the end, and although he didn't understand a lick of what the tourist was trying to state to him, the shinobi reluctantly accepted the reward and placed the wad of cash inside to one of his inner chest pockets.
"Thank you," said the One-Armed Wolf; he helped raise the Spanish to his feet. Just before the tourist left the scene, he turned to the Japanese trio, returning to his frightened expression.
"Oh..and just one more thing: Get the fuck out of here while you all still can..Staying here..it is not worth it.." he warned; Wolf, Genichiro, and Kuro could only frown at the departing tourist with confusion due to language barriers. Much to their increasing perplexity, his frightened expression shifted to bitter anger upon facing the crowds of thugs and prostitutes.
"Fuck this place..! It is a shit place..!"
He then lifted his middle finger and aimed it at the unconscious thug leader.
"Fuck you –
To the wounded police officer.
" – fuck YOU – "
And finally to the rest of the circled crowd, spitting on the ground in a conceited demeanor.
" – and FUCK ALL of you..!"
When the tourist saw a yellow taxi nearby, he aggressively fought past the crowd by pushing them away and limped towards the vehicle out of immense desperation, animately waving at the driver.
"Taxi..! Hey..! Taxi..!"
With the tourist high-tailing out of the city, presumably to the nearest airport, the Japanese natives were now to commence forward. However, much to the unexpectedness of Genichiro and Wolf, Kuro was surrounded by a group of middle-aged prostitutes that found the Divine Heir to be adorable. In reaction, Kuro was seen holding his hands together and keeping his gaze to the ground with his cheeks flushed to red. Some of the prostitutes went as far as to crouching close to the Divine Heir to have a better look at his face.
"Awww, he is such a cutie!" remarked an Asian-American prostitute with a whole-hearted smile.
"I want pinch his cheeks!" said a Vietnamese prostitute out-loud.
"What is he even doing here? Look at him! He makes choir boys look like shit!" said a European prostitute with a thick accent, sucking the butt of the lit-cigarette and blowing out smoke. The shinobi and the grandson of Isshin approached the Divine Heir in haste and respectively held both his hands with Wolf holding Kuro's left hand while Genichiro held the right. Some of the prostitutes gave them catty glares and bit their lips in an attempt to attract the warriors. However, as voluptuous and as charming as the prostitutes looked in bodily appearances, the ancient warriors gave them no attention – much to the women's disappointment.
"My Lord, we have done as you requested. It is time to move," said the One-Armed Wolf.
"Divine Heir, we must be on our way," strongly advised Ashina's commander; with Genichiro at the left, Kuro at the middle, and Wolf at the right in a horizontal line, the Japanese trio commenced their way forward. The two anachronistic warriors lifted and pointed their blades toward the thugs in front of them as they were making their way out of the circle. Respecting the boundaries of the trio, the thugs willingly backed themselves meters away, unwilling to take the chance of getting sliced-and-diced by the One-Armed Wolf and the grandson of Isshin. The same group of prostitutes had their hearts sunk to see them, especially the Divine Heir, leave from their sights. They had their hearts further sunk when they saw Kuro gazing back at them with an innocent smile, making some of them go "awwwww."
"Just looking at him smile melts my heart," claimed a German, blond-haired prostitute with an infatuated smile.
"Honestly, if it weren't for those two hotties looking after him, I'd have happily adopted that cutie," claimed an American prostitute. The same European prostitute that was smoking blew out smoke and cackled as response.
"Girl, please. With all those bills you have to owe to boss, you can't even take care of yourself. If you can afford to be a mother in a shithole like this, then you ought to consider yourself as oooone lucky bitch."
Since nobody in the crowd bothered to help him out, the bleeding, maimed police officer was forced to shout at them from the top of his lungs:
"CAN SOMEBODY CALL THE FUCKING AMBULANCE ALREADY..?! I'M BLEEDING OUT!"
Neither of the thugs nor the prostitutes bothered to help him – or even so much as look at him – as they dispersed to their usual places.
The Japanese trio spent around another half an hour walking aimlessly throughout the city in an attempt to not only search for Ashina, but also to search for anyone that spoke in their tongue, so they could get a better sense of where they were currently at – so the three later discussed. After half an hour of aimless walking, they found no one yet that spoke in native Japanese. The sun was about to set for good in the next hour. The blood spilled on the hands of Genichiro dried moments ago.
Fifty meters behind them was a black car approaching in high-speed that held five members of the Colombian Cartel: One of the five was a low-tier thug in the mid-twenties that earlier retreated from the ancient warriors. The rest of them were older, more experienced, middle-tier thugs from the late twenties to late forties dressed in casual business suits. The leader of the thugs, appearance-wise, was noticeable for wearing a pair of brown polarized sunglasses and bearing a thick mustache. Going wide-eyed upon spotting the Japanese three on the walkway next to the street, the low-tier thug tapped on the head thug's shoulder from behind the passengers seats and extended his arm all the way out, pointing his finger at the anachronistic individuals.
"There! There! It's them!" he cried out in English with an accent. The head thug leaned his shoulders forward and partially lifted his sunglasses, squinting at the trio for himself.
"Sure it's them, kid?" inquired the head thug in Spanish dialect while keeping his eyes intact on the three Japanese. The young thug nodded several times in return.
"Yeah! I saw all of em' with my own two fuckin' eyes earlier, boss! It's them alright! Them pendejos!" he responded in the same Spanish dialect. The head thug tapped the driver by his shoulder.
"Hey, pullover. I'mma teach them fuck-faces a lesson," he ordered. The car came to a screeching halt with smoke exuding beneath the tires. After the driver killed the engine, the head thug got out and slammed the door behind him with the rest of the subordinate thugs doing the same and trailing him close from behind. The middle-tier Hispanic thugs adjusted the collars on their expensive colored suits and strutted forward, stalking the ancient trio like predators.
"Hey! Friends!" called out the head thug in accented English. When Wolf and Kuro turned around to face him, Genichiro, while walking forward, advised them not to do so.
"Ignore them. Keep moving."
The shinobi and the Divine Heir complied, following Genichiro's lead. Since, by now, they knew the kinds of people roaming around here in this part of the unrevealed city, the Japanese came to a consensus to ignore them and press on forward. When he saw that they purposely disregarded his presence, the head thug doubled in his persistence to get them to stop and face him.
"What's the hurry? I just want to talk face-to-face like gentlemen – just you and I. What's the rush, huh?" he continued to taunt in English; much to the three's further irritation, the head thug relentlessly pressed on and on.
"You no speak English?"
"WHAT'S THE MATTER, YOU PUSSY-ASS, LIMP-DICKED BITCHES?! HAVIN' SECOND THOUGHTS?!" shouted the young thug out-loud from the far back of the five. The head thug instructed one of his men to deal with him.
"Shut that boy up," he ordered. A subordinate middle-tier thug obstructed the young thug's path and aggressively pushed him on his chest, giving the low-tier thug an eyeful. The intimidated young thug steadily backed away with his hands raised up.
"Hey..! Okay, okay..! I stay by the car like good boy, okay..?"
Once the young thug obediently retreated back to the car, the rest of the four thugs commenced pursuit for the Japanese.
"You no like talking?" once again taunted the head thug in English. Due to the unresponsive stubbornness of the trio, he pulled out his silver-embroidered handgun from his left jacket pocket, cocked the sidearm, aimed it up towards the sky, and opened fire three times with the expended rounds clinking on the ground. A line of transient smoke emitted from the heated muzzle. Birds resting their feet on power lines vigorously fluttered their wings and soared to the skies.
The One-Armed Wolf, Ashina's commander, and the Divine Heir all came to a halt once the roars of the thug's firearm echoed past them. The crowds in the surroundings panicked with the prostitutes running to open spaces while screaming like banshees and with the rest of the uninvolved people of thugs, restaurant owners, and pawn shop owners minding their own businesses by taking cover in nearby walls to avoid getting cross-fired.
"That's one way to draw attention, boss," complimented and laughed out a subordinate thug. The head thug approached the three Japanese, who now bothered to turn around to face their adversaries, a few meters closer.
"Cigar," he requested. Two subordinate thugs right behind him complied and hurriedly ran over to his sides with one obediently placing the cigarette butt on his lips with the other lighting the the tip of the cigarette with a silver Zippo lighter. Blowing out smoke from his nostrils, the head thug approached the Japanese face-to-face.
"My Lord, if you would distance yourself," advised Wolf to Kuro. The Divine Heir nodded and backed away a couple steps behind the two ancient warriors, who glared at the thug back.
"Nobody else around here now. Just between you guys – "
The head thug first gestured to himself and then to his three subordinates behind him.
" – and us now."
"So those low-tier caralhos back there couldn't handle these three fuckin' wimps? Two shit-bags with nothing but shit weapons with shit armor tagged along with one kid that don't look a day over fucking ten. Shitting me?" snickered a thug from behind in an arrogant demeanor. The other two thugs snickered along as well. None of the thugs found Wolf and Genichiro to be intimidating, despite sighting their katanas and the latter's great-sized bow strapped behind his back, since they were all armed with handguns and submachine guns stowed in their suits.
"Useless fucking idiotas. At least I wasn't as fuckin' useless as them putas when I was their age. They are the lowest of the scum," joined in another. The thug leader sucked the cigarette butt and exuded out smoke from his nostrils.
"Back there, you stirred up quite the shit-show, you know that? Rumors spread fast in this part of town. Some spectacular shit happens – "
He snapped his fingers.
" – just goes right out the window. Give or take five minutes or so. But when I heard about what you stirred up back there, it didn't even take that long for me to find out. I have eyes – "
The leading thug pointed to his own eyes and then pointed to the surroundings.
" – everywhere in this fuckin' town, you see. Everywhere. When you sleep, I will know. When you make a call to someone, I will know. When you make love to your wife or have a rough time banging your fuck-buddy, I will know. Whenever you so much as breathe in the air you are all sucking up right now, I will know, my friends. Trust me – I know everything."
Like Wolf, Genichiro was more irritated than intimidated by the thugs' presence.
"Are you finished?" said the grandson of Isshin in his native tongue with a straight, undaunted expression. The head thug frowned and called to his subordinates.
"Anybody speak Chinglish here? Amigos?"
The three subordinates all either shrugged or shook their heads sideways in jocular expressions. Flicking off the half-burnt cigarette, which landed on Genichiro's platebody, the leading thug became more serious in his countenance, placing both hands on his hips and giving the two warriors a no-playing-around glare. Genichiro was offended when the cigarette landed on his platebody, but restrained himself for now and kept his countenance straightened.
"Look, friends, you look like you are in hurry, so, for yours sake and mine – I will go straight to the point. No more of this drama horse-shit. You fucked up an officer back there, right? Am I wrong?" asked the thug in sunglasses. Neither of the two warriors bothered to answer and only returned him with the usual glare.
"So, then you did. I am sorry to break it to you, but he was not just any cop."
The head thug's glare to the two warriors shifted to a deathly one.
"He was my brother. My younger brother. You faggots fucked up – and I don't give no fucks if it was a misunderstanding. Now – "
He aggressively tapped his index finger on Wolf's and Genichiro's chests several times while maintaining his ferocious glare to the two.
" – cause' of you clowns, he is sitting duck in a hospital – which unfortunately means I, as his older brother, gotta pay for his fuckin' bills too since that fuckin' loser don't have enough to provide for himself. I got a family of my own with three fucking mouths to feed. And it doesn't fucking end there. You know what else those four-eyed sons of bitches told me over the phone? That they had to cut off – "
Shaping his right hand to a knife-hand, the head thug motioned the knife-hand horizontally on his right leg.
" – ssscchwick his right leg since it got infected. My brother's gonna be a one-legged crippled fuck now all thanks to you no-good pendejo sons of fucking bitches. Now that's just fucking insulting."
The leading thug then aimed his sidearm point-blank at the center of Genichiro's forehead with its muzzle being inches off. Ashina's commander didn't even flinch a muscle, pressuring the head thug to pull the trigger even more. The three subordinates behind him reached in for their inner chest pockets to retrieve their own respective firearms.
"You fuckers feelin' sorry for yourselves? Cause' you should all be pissin' your pants right now. Cause' what I gon' do to you is gon' be many times fuckin' worse – I promise you this. I'mma kill you fools right here, right now, chop you three to little pieces, and put them in a fucking box for my boss' dogs to ea – "
Having had heard enough of the leader thug babbling his mouth out, Genichiro speedily pushed away the sidearm away to the right and punched him hard in the stomach region, forcing the latter to vomit blood. The punch from the grandson of Isshin was so powerful that blood also spurted out from the thug's nostrils. The sunglasses of the head thug, who went wide-eyed, propelled from his eyes due to the sheer force of Genichiro's punch. The pain was agonizing enough to make the head thug's hands and legs go numb, forcing him to relinquish his sidearm to the ground and drop to his knees.
When they saw their leader defeated on his knees, the three subordinates went wide-eyed and drew out their firearms, aiming at Genichiro and Wolf. Two of them were armed with standard pistols with the last of the three dual-wielding two black Uzis.
"Take them down! Take them downnnn!" shouted one of the subordinate thugs; just before they pulled the triggers on their firearms, the shinobi dashed forward in impressive speed and unsheathed his Kusabimaru. He swiftly severed their hands, which flung high in the air, by motioning his blade in a devastating criss-cross, performing the Ashina Cross combat art. So swift and powerful the combat art was that a visible, ephemeral "x" appeared close to the thugs' bloodied stumps due to the air bending in reaction to the blurred movement of his blade. Wolf's face stained with trails of crimson. The firearms, along with the motionless severed hands, clunked on the ground. Blood trickled out the stumps of the inanimate hands. The subordinate thugs, their faces painted red with their own blood, slumped on the ground, panicking and screaming in pain while setting their horrified gazes to the bleeding stumps on their half-severed arms. Handless, they were left with little ideas on how to stop themselves from bleeding to death, especially with all the traumatic stress mounting up that severely disoriented their cognitive processes. All they could do was helplessly roll on the ground in pain, screaming and sobbing like toddlers throwing tantrums. Fulfilling his part, the One-Armed Wolf sheathed his Kusabimaru and rejoined with Kuro, who gazed elsewhere after this entire time as he abhorred the sight of blood. The young thug that witnessed the entire incident panicked and didn't hesitate to flee at once.
The head thug, clutching on his stomach while breathing heavily in suffocating pain, venomously glared his bloodshot eyes to those of Genichiro, who sharply glared at him back as if the thug was a living piece of trash. The thug made an effort to lift his shaking arm and point directly at the grandson of Isshin as if the latter committed a vengeful act against him and his subordinate crew. Never in his forty-nine years of life expectancy had he been humiliated this badly before.
"Youuu..Fuuuck youuuu.." he cursed with his rattling voice, harshly coughing out more blood to the ground. Genichiro couldn't be bothered to waste his breath on him and turned his back on the incapacitated thug, brushing the thug's cheek with the edge of his black cape and making his way towards the direction of Wolf and Kuro. Feeling deeply humiliated and insulted, the head thug was overcome with rage and snapped his bloodshot eyes to his fallen sidearm, which was just in front of him.
"Don't chu' fuckin' turn your – "
Groaning and gritting his blood-stained teeth, he grabbed his silver pistol and attempted to fire at Ashina's commander while he was still on his knees. His arms violently shook because of the extreme pain rupturing in his stomach, but Genichiro was close enough for the head thug to make a lethal blow with his sidearm.
" – back on meeee..!"
Anticipating this, the grandson of Isshin gripped the hilt of his katana and quickly snapped behind, unsheathing the ancient weapon in a swift horizontal motion. Some of the crowds that had been watching the entire incident from behind walls and windows physically jerked back in horrified reactions. Prostitutes screamed from the top of their lungs once more. Genichiro's face was embellished with trails of crimson. The thug didn't even get the chance to fire at the warrior and had his head toppling and rolling on the ground with blood spurting out of both stumps. The rest of the decapitated thug's body mass slumped sideways on its shoulder. A pool of crimson formed around the body. All three of the subordinates caught their leader being decapitated right in front of their eyes, but were too weak to react as they were growing paler by the seconds, near-unresponsive and struggling for breath. Genichiro diagonally whipped his blade to the side to free his katana of excess blood and sheathed it back in the saya scabbard. He turned about and focused on leading the way.
"Wipe the blood on your face, shinobi," he instructed to Wolf; both of the two warriors wiped their faces free of blood with pieces of cloth.
"We must move quickly. More may be on their way," he advised and warned. With the trio leaving the area for good, the crowds steadily went out of their safe spaces and circled around the bloodied bodies, gossiping to one another and taking photos of the bodies with their cellphones and cameras.
Further ahead was the marketplace of the city. It was rather just as bustling as the previous areas the trio had gone through, except it was exceptionally peaceful in a way. The place was swarming with South-East Asian elderlies wearing conical hats. On both sides of the streets, they were busy selling food products ranging from fruits, vegetables, livestock meat, and freshly-caught fish. Food vendors based off of various cultures lurked in the massive marketplace with white smoke rising from within. Besides the vendors were restaurants, liquor stores, and bars that ranged from cheap to moderately-expensive prices. Although the people found the three Japanese to be weird and vastly outdated in appearances, and also fairly intimidating upon seeing Genichiro's great-sized bow and the warriors' katanas, they didn't mind their appearances due to the setting being somewhat old-fashioned as well compared to most other regions of the city. An elderly mute woman that was selling cooked satays under a parasol flapped her hand to Kuro, insisting that he visit her.
"It looks as if she desires our presence.." he said. The three decided to pay her a visit as she requested. The elderly woman, who found the Divine Heir to be adorable, generously offered each of the three a satay stick of roasted chicken meat. Kuro gladly accepted the food with both hands and bowed his head down to her a few times to genuinely thank her for the treat.
"Thank you!" he said with a smile. She then offered the shinobi a satay stick, which Wolf blankly accepted. When he reached in his inner chest pocket to bring out the cash the Spanish tourist earlier rewarded him with, the elderly woman shook his head sideways as she intended to give out the food to the three free of charge.
"Thank you," said the One-Armed Wolf, bowing down his head to the elderly. She then offered another satay stick to the commander of Ashina, who was currently robbed of appetite as the thoughts of returning to Ashina lingered in his mind.
"I appreciate your kindness, but I am not hungry," rejected Genichiro. The mute elderly insisted that he accepted her offer. As he felt that he couldn't just deny an elderly's offer, Ashina's commander sighed out his nostrils and gave in, accepting the food.
"Thank you.." he said, bowing down his head. When all three of them chewed on the top chunk of the chicken meat satay, their mouths were overwhelmed with savory flavor. The tender chicken meat was roasted with a special sauce. Their mouths watered with the meat melting inside. The Japanese trio really took their time to chew on the chunks of meat before swallowing them whole. Much to all their surprise, they noticed that there was no meat left hanging on the stick after a mere few seconds of consumption. They found the satay sticks to be so delectable that they simply craved for more.
Kuro's stomach growled. Much to the partial embarrassment of the two warriors themselves, their stomachs growled also. The three were unsatisfied with consuming just one satay stick. With all the mingled savory smell wafting from all the cooked foods around them in all directions, their stomachs growled to no end.
"I am not sure about you Wolf and Lord Genichiro, but it would not hurt to stop by and engage in respite. I believe we have walked for quite a distance," advised the Divine Heir. The shinobi, even Ashina's commander, considered his thoughts for a moment. Much to the three's disappointment, the elderly woman was suddenly greeted by a line of customers, defeating their hopes of buying more satay sticks from her. They searched their surroundings for other potential food sources – and there were just so many to pick from. The trio happened to sight a Japanese restaurant just a few blocks away from them. The smell of unagi eels being grilled on a spit roaster by a chef just outside the restaurant was near-enticing for the anachronistic individuals. Without needing to say anything, Wolf, Genichiro, and Kuro walked over to the front of the restaurant and patiently awaited for someone to arrange them in a table. They couldn't keep their eyes off of the eels being grilled just next to them.
The three returned to focus once a light brown-skinned, young waitress, dressed in a kimono, approached and greeted them. Although she found their appearances to be genuinely peculiar, she greeted them with a formal bow and with an amicable smile. The ancient three found it to be culturally peculiar to see a woman of different ethnicity in a kimono attire, but nevertheless bowed their heads down in return.
"Welcome," greeted the waitress in Japanese. The three felt a surge of relief over the fact that they encountered an actual person that can speak decently in their native tongue.
"Would that be just the three of you?" she inquired.
"Yes," responded Genichiro.
"The tables inside are currently full, so you will have to wait if you desire to sit inside. Also, as you can see – "
She gestured to the scattered tables just outside the restaurant.
" – we have available tables outside. Would that be alright for the three of you, Mister..? How may I address you, sir?"
"Genichiro. Genichiro Ashina."
"Right this way then, Mister Genichiro," she said with a smile, extending out her hand to the tables. The three followed her behind to their table that was in a less crowded and spacious area. The table had two benches on each side and a parasol providing cover from sunlight, which was to be set in a few minutes. Wolf and Kuro sat on the left bench while Genichiro sat on the opposite one, facing each other. In the meantime, the waitress excused herself.
"While I am off to get the menus, would any of you like to get something to drink?"
"Tea, please," replied the three in unison.
"Of course. I will be back shortly," she responded with a smile, heading off elsewhere. In the meantime, the ancient trio conversed briefly before the waitress came back with the menus and drinks.
"Do the two of you think more of them will come for us?" inquired Kuro.
"They will think twice before they do, Divine Heir," responded the grandson of Isshin, vigilantly eyeing the surroundings. The One-Armed Wolf, who was also eyeing at the bustling crowds around them, was inclined to agree.
"I do not think so, my Lord."
The warriors spotted none amongst the crowds that were remotely suspicious-looking. The waitress returned to the group with a tray of three menus, three limestone cups, a smoking black kettle of tea, and a box of utensils. She placed the tray on the table and first offered the three menus. She then placed the limestone cups in front of the trio, pouring hot tea in each of them with the black kettle in gracious manner. The waitress then opened the cover of the box and placed napkins in front of the three. Wooden chopsticks were then gently placed on the napkins.
"I will be back shortly. Please enjoy your tea and please take your time going over the menus," she excused herself again. The curious three opened the menu and observed the plethora of choices from food to drinks, constantly flipping over the pages from time-to-time.
"These choices look splendid!" complimented Kuro; he had his eyes drawn at the picture of a chashu ramen dish with a generous amount of braised pork, soft-boiled eggs, and dried seaweed offered as toppings. Unsure of what dish to pick for himself, the frowning Wolf kept flipping through the pages with his shoulders and neck leaned forward. Genichiro had his eyes set on the una-jyu unagi eel dish that was served with a generous amount of white rice that filled the entire bottom of the bento box. Just over five minutes later, the waitress appeared besides the anachronistic group once more and eagerly awaited their orders with a smile.
"Are you all ready to order, or do any of you need more time to consider?"
"One bowl of chashu ramen, please!" stated the Divine Heir with a smile. Nodding, she extended out her hand towards the shinobi.
"You, sir?"
With slight hesitation, he decided to follow Kuro's order of ramen.
"The same as my Lord.."
"So another bowl of chashu ramen?" she asked. Wolf gave her a nod. The waitress then extended her hand towards Ashina's commander.
"And you, Mister Genichiro?"
"I would prefer the una-jyu dish," stated Genichiro.
"Very well. Allow me to repeat your orders: Two chashu ramen bowls and one una-jyu dish. Did I get everything the three of you have requested?" confirmed and inquired the waitress.
"Yes," the three replied in unison.
"Excellent. Your orders will arrive shortly no more than fifteen minutes. If you desire to refill your cups, then please inform any nearby waiters and waitresses. If you will excuse me then."
After retrieving the menus from the three, the waitress left the trio with a formal bow. The three held the cups with both hands and lightly sipped on the hot tea. They were partially surprised at the quality of the tea.
"The tea is exceptionally fragrant," commented Genichiro, taking another sip. Wolf and Kuro were also enjoying the tea in silence as they found its scent and flavor to be mesmerizing. After briefly enjoying their tea, they laid the cups on the table for now and took the time to diligently observe the foreign surroundings around them. By now, the sun had set with the atmosphere regressing to dark blue. The streets became less bustling with people and activities as most of them were now making their way home: Food vendors were closing down and the elderlies selling fresh food packed their belongings in rickshaws and wooden baskets. Rows of tall street lights constructed in nearby blocks were activated and illuminated the streets with radiant yellow-white. LED lights of radiant kaleidoscopic colors used as signs for nearby restaurants and bars were activated and greatly contrasted against the dark blue of the approaching night. Much to the fascination of the ancient trio, some of the LED lights "moved" in repeating rhythms ranging from animate crabs from Chinese seafood restaurants to animate voluptuous women from bars. As the streets cleared with less people in the way, sightings of passing cars and motorcycles became more frequent with their headlights emitting bright yellow-white ovals that stretched on the roads. The anachronistic three noticed some of the cars parking close to them. Suited-up and tatted thugs in sunglasses exited out of the vehicles, shutting the doors behind them. They exuded an arrogant aura while laughing and swearing away in high volume. Sensing imminent danger, Wolf and Genichiro brushed the hilts of their katanas with the tip of their fingers without directly eyeing the thugs. Kuro diverted his gaze elsewhere as well. The thugs strutted to the nearest bars, continuing to laugh away. A few of the criminals did make a semblance of eye contact with the three, finding their appearances to be rather peculiar, but ignored them in the end and commenced to the bars without picking a fight. When the thugs went inside a bar, the shinobi and the grandson of Isshin eyed the departing groups of criminals and laid their fingers off of the hilts. To break the sudden awkward silence amongst the trio, the Divine Heir revived their conversation with an inquiry:
"Where are we as of this moment..?"
Genichiro sipped tea from the limestone cup and tended to Kuro's perplexing question.
"Somewhere distant from not only Ashina, but also Japan as a whole. I find it not difficult to imagine that we are across the seas. The weather is much hotter than usual. Although, now it is becoming cooler as nightfall nears."
He glared at the surrounding foreigners and passing vehicles.
"The clothes they wear, the colors of their scalps, skins, and eyes, the strange transports they take – everything about this place reeks of foreign, Western influence. Although I would not know for myself with utmost confidence, the world is larger – much vast – than we would typically expect. I suspect we are in a trading port."
"You do have a great point, Lord Genichiro," responded the Divine Heir, nodding; he looked to Wolf, hoping to garner more answers to solve his initial inquiry.
"How about you, Wolf? Do you have any thoughts to share?"
"I have never stepped foot outside of Japan. I have no definite answer, Lord Kuro," answered the One-Armed Wolf.
"The same as I, Noble Shinobi. Although, my grandfather told me of stories of him sailing to distant lands when I had just begun to learn the art of swordsmanship," continued Genichiro.
"Do you recall any of the stories visually matching to the land we are standing on now, Lord Genichiro?" inquired Kuro.
"Unfortunately, no, Divine Heir. I do not recall grandfather mentioning anything that remotely resembles to the novel spectacles we are witnessing as of this moment – with the exception of him encountering white-skinned Western foreigners for trading purposes," explained Ashina's commander.
"My father, Owl, told me of a story once just before the day I have completed training," contributed Wolf, sipping tea.
"The Great Shinobi? I have seen him visiting grandfather once," shared Genichiro.
"What did he tell you, Wolf?" asked the young master.
"That he came about a land that exhibited similar weather: Very hot and humid. He was there for training when he was an apprentice under Lady Butterfly. I recall him mentioning the land was at the far south-west of Japan," explained the shinobi.
"Did he mention anything else? For instance, about the people residing in that land?" asked Kuro. Wolf shook his head sideways.
"No, my Lord. That is all he revealed to me."
An old Japanese man, who was the head chef of the restaurant that was eager to help the waiters and waitresses out, brought the respective dishes for the trio on a tray. Upon sighting the trio, he was deeply stunned of their outdated appearances, but overall respected their choices of attire. The head chef initially thought of them to be very old-fashioned Yakuza members as he was aware of the Yakuza's presence in this city, but such thinking of his was defeated once he saw someone as innocent and as youthful-looking as Kuro, leaving him to further confusion of their true underlying identities. The Divine Heir noticed his approaching presence.
"Ah! It looks as if our dishes have arrived!" excitedly notified the eager Kuro. The straight-faced warriors, who were just as eager as Kuro, latched their eyes to the dishes on the tray like hungered predators and swallowed a lump down their throats once they saw smoke rising from their respective orders. Once the elderly chef arrived besides the ancient trio, he began calling out the orders.
"Two bowls of chashu ramen?"
"That would be us two!" notified Kuro, raising his hand with a smile. The old chef passed the two bowls of ramen to the respective individuals. The mouths of the shinobi and the Divine Heir watered upon sighting and sniffing out their dishes that were placed right before them. The commander of Ashina also couldn't help but to have his mouth involuntarily water when gazing at the bowls of ramen.
"And one una-jyu."
Genichiro raised his hand. The chef passed the dish to his front. Wolf and Kuro had their mouths watering more once they sighted Genichiro's dish. Genichiro himself couldn't pry his eyes off of his una-jyu bento dish. Much to their satisfaction and pleasance, all three of their orders were of excellent quality and of generous amount just as the menu realistically depicted.
"Thank you," they all said in unison with their hands clasped together. The head chef nodded and made a formal bow in return with a smile.
"No, thank you. Please, enjoy your meals."
With the chef departing, the trio, as much as they couldn't wait to devour their respective orders of food, clasped their hands and had their eyes shut, praying in silence as formal etiquette. Once they opened their eyes, they wielded the chopsticks and dug in their dishes.
It took less than ten minutes for them to devour their food. Not a string of noodle and an ounce of soup were to be seen remaining in either of Wolf's or Kuro's ramen bowl, and not a single grain of rice was left in Genichiro's una-jyu. The three made an effort to cover their burps by hovering their hands over their mouths to avoid looking rude or to embarrass themselves in front of others. They wiped their mouths with the napkins and washed down their throats by gulping on the remaining tea in the limestone cups.
"Delicious!" complimented the Divine Heir.
"The taste is..unlike anything I have tasted before.." remarked the stunned One-Armed Wolf in a monotone voice.
"How was your dish, Lord Genichiro? Did you like it?" asked Kuro. Clearing his throat, Ashina's commander, like the shinobi, was stunned of how the una-jyu dish turned out to be.
"It is well above my expectations," he remarked. The head chef returned to them and cleared away the bowls and the bento.
"Let me clear these away for you. How was the food?"
"They were splendid for all of us!" enthusiastically replied Kuro with a smile.
"I'm glad that is the case," said the old man, smiling at them with creases forming on his beady eyes; he gave the three a curious glance while clearing the table.
"What brings you three all the way here to this part of the world?"
"We were lost with the directions, so we found ourselves here in the end," explained Kuro. The chef nodded in return.
"Ah, I see. Where are you all headed then, if you won't mind this old man asking?"
"To Japan," answered the Divine Heir.
"Which part of Japan?" continued to inquire the chef.
"The north," responded Genichiro.
"Ah, what a coincidence! A daughter of mine lives somewhere around there. I've been planning to see her on my leave," claimed the elderly chef. To the startled confusion of the old man, Genichiro gave him a serious glare.
"Is she safe?" he asked. Snickering, the elderly frowned and awkwardly smiled along as if Genichiro's inquiry was nothing but a joke.
"What are you talking about? Of course she's safe! As a matter of fact, we've talked over the phone just last night!"
"You do understand there is a conflict raging in those regions between the Interior Ministry and the outer clans that it did not manage to swallow as of yet, yes?" continued Genichiro with his usual serious countenance. Baffled, the old man was, for a moment, lost for words. Wolf and Kuro, however, were genuinely interested on how the chef was going to reply to the grandson of Isshin.
"Wha – I have no idea what you're talking about! That's just an outright ludicrous statement if I've ever heard of one! We're not in the Sengoku or the Tokugawa era or whatever they're called, mister! We've even shed blood, sweat, and tears against the Americans in World War Two! We've got the National Diet leading the nation now – and we're way past that Ministry and clan crap that you earlier spoke about! We're in 1995! It's time to get with the times!"
All the stunned anachronistic trio could do was frown in extreme confusion and disbelief. The elderly chef's heart skipped a beat when Genichiro himself slapped his hands hard on the table, trembling the empty limestone cups, and raised himself to his feet – this time scowling at the old man.
"What..?! 1995..?!" asked and growled Ashina's commander in a gruff, bitter tone. The chef couldn't help himself but wheeze out in laughter as he found the three's ignorance of the current global trends to be outright baffling and disbelieving.
"Yeah! You got that right, sonny! 1995! You're telling me none of you noticed?! Get outta here! From the way you're all dressed with all them fancy armor and weapons to none of you three knowing what's been going around here – this has got to be some sort of a prank, right?! Are we on live television or something?"
Despite being informed with a hard reality check, the grandson of Isshin eventually calmed and sat on the bench, exercising restraint. As of this moment, he could only gaze his scowling eyes below to the surface of the table in utter bafflement and dumbstruck confusion.
"Excuse me for my outburst," he apologized.
"Where are we..?" inquired Wolf to the head chef.
"Why, that would be Roanapur, good sir. Where else?" answered and questioned the elderly chef. The One-Armed Wolf and the Divine Heir couldn't make out the name of the city. Genichiro faced the old man.
"I beg your pardon?" he inquired, still in utter disbelief.
"Roanapur. Figures that none of you have heard about it since, you know – let's just say it's not the most ideal of places to dwell in, hee hee," explained the head chef. Still vastly confused, Kuro intervened in the conversation with a question of his own:
"Where exactly is this 'Roanapur'? Is it a city of a nation? It is just that we have never heard of its name before."
The elderly gave the Divine Heir a somewhat fulfilling nodding with his lips protruded.
"Mmmm, sort of. You're on the right track. But here, let me head on back to get my map so you all can get a better picture."
The head chef made his brief leave to retrieve his map from his office. In the aged man's temporary absence, Genichiro continued to throw in a fit of rage at the possibility of his treasured clan being no more. Ever since they had found themselves in the T-Virus infested Raccoon City, it had never occured to them that they had been stuck in the future after all this time.
"What of the Ashina clan now..?! It must be on the brink of collapse – or worse: I fear it has been annihilated to obscurity – "
"Lord Genichiro, please..I know it is disheartening to ponder so, but you must stay hopeful. There is still hope in us reverting back to our original period," assured Kuro. Genichiro, however, was still unconvinced.
"How sure are you, Divine Heir?" inquired Ashina's commander.
"As sure as I can be with full heart. There is always hope," responded the Divine Heir in a deterministic, convictive tone. Albeit feeling partially reassured that it was somehow going to be the case of finding themselves back in Ashina in the sixteenth century of the Sengoku period, Genichiro was still curious on the current status of the clan. It didn't take long for the head chef to make his return with a folded map in his hand. He placed the map on the table and unfolded it, covering the whole surface of the table with it. What they were seeing before them was a global map with black-worded labels hovering above continents, nations, cities, and oceans alike. A compass was spotted at the far right corner of the map. The ancient trio were familiar with the shapes of the continents on the map.
"So, as you all can see – "
The elderly retrieved a red Stabilo marker from his pocket and pried the cap off. He first circled the islands of Japan on the map.
" – this is Japan – "
He then led the tip of the pen to the far south shores of Thailand and circled a small region that was directly next to Cambodia.
" – and here is Roanapur."
From there, the old man traced a line with the marker from Roanapur to the north all the way to Bangkok.
"South of Bangkok."
Another line drawn from Roanapur to the east of Cambodia and Vietnam.
"West of Cambodia and Vietnam – "
And finally, another line traversing from Roanapur to all the way to the sea-locked Japan.
" – and far south-west of Japan."
"Just as you have said, Wolf!" said Kuro to the shinobi. Streaks of lightning followed after rumblings of thunder. Black clouds shrouded the dark skies to pitch black. A cold gust of wind blew throughout the streets, flapping the sleeves of the parasol above the trio's table. The air shifted to cooler temperature and the humidity left was little to none.
"Oh, and would you look at that: It's about to pour out here!" said the elderly chef, placing his hands on his hips and gazing above at the darkening skies. Genichiro was the first amongst the three that stood on his feet.
"It is best that we depart now. Thank you for the food," farewelled the grandson of Isshin, drooping his head to a formal bow to the old man.
"Do you three have a place to stay? If you all don't, then I've got a cozy place that my friend and I run! It's just a few blocks away from here!" eagerly offered the chef. Before Wolf or Kuro got to even state their opinions on his magnanimous offer, Genichiro intervened and shook his head sideways.
"We are much obliged, but – "
The old man cut him off.
"Sometimes the rain here can be no joke. Usually, I can tell when it's gonna be a drizzle and when it's gonna be a real downpour – "
He once more gazed above the skies, which were now charcoal-black with chains of lightning contrasting against the black clouds with blinding white-blue flashes.
" – and from what I'm seeing right now: Yep, it's definitely gonna be a downpour. Downpours here in Roanapur are usually no joke, sonny. You're going to get yourselves all wet, and that little youngun's gonna catch a cold. You wouldn't want all that to happen now, would you?"
This time, Kuro stood on his feet. His gaze went back-and-forth from the commander of Ashina and to the One-Armed Wolf.
"I say we rest for this one night. We have not ceased moving for a considerable amount of time. Not only that, but also we could use the night as an opportune moment to recollect our thoughts instead of wandering aimlessly and put ourselves in more unnecessary danger."
Now the shinobi stood on his feet, facing the other two of the ancient trio.
"I am in agreement with Lord Kuro. As the night draws blacker, the perils that await us shall greatly increase. I suggest we await for daybreak before commencing further."
The old chef nodded at Wolf and Kuro and then faced Genichiro, crossing his arms.
"You know, for newcomers, they've both got some great points. Within at at least two to three hours, almost the entirety of this city's going to plunge straight to hell – and you may think that I'm kidding or exaggerating, but I honestly wish I was. And I'm sure you all saw how bad this place can get on your way here. Imagine what you three saw so far and multiply that by ten – no – a hundred times. It's just really that worse, folks. Consider my generous offer. I promise you three won't regret it by any means," encouraged the old chef. Since Genichiro was the only one amongst the trio that went against the old man's offer, the rest were eager to hear his thoughts. As much as he wished to restlessly find his way to Ashina, the shinobi and the Divine Heir had genuinely good points, he thought and considered. Furthermore, he thought, since the old man was of generous and selfless nature, he could be trusted.
"So be it," concluded Ashina's commander. The elderly chef joyously laughed and slapped on Genichiro's shoulder.
"That's the spirit! Like I said, it's only a few blocks away from here, so we should be there in no time! Right this way!"
Before they left the restaurant, Wolf retrieved a hundred-dollar US bill from his inner chest pocket and offered it to the old man, who was just about to lead the trio to his so-called "cozy place."
"For the meals. Would this be enough to cover the costs?" asked the shinobi. The chef laughed out loud and selflessly denied the money.
"Oh, just forget about it. This one's on me!" he said, laughing out loud and slapping the shinobi on the back of his shoulder. Wolf gave him a nod and placed the bill back inside his pocket for now. Genichiro and Kuro genuinely respected the old man for his selflessness. With no further ado, the three followed the elderly chef from behind and continued onwards to their next area for their long-deserved respite. Thunder cackled and chains of lightning flashed in the vicinity in series of ephemeral white and blue. Shortly after, starting with a drizzle, a downpour of rain began drenching the entire city.
Author's notes: Next chapter will host Balalaika and her men. Stay tuned for more contents!
vulcunniko: Your recommendation's noted. Tying Western aesthetics with those of ancient Japanese sounds genuinely interesting!