Chapter 1: Shadow PART 1

Chatroom (Holiday, Evening)

Cmeister: Like I was saying, the strongest group in Wawanaka now has got to be the Dollars!

Skysthelimit: [Although I've never met a Dollars member, I've heard a lot of rumors about them.]

Queen Bee:That's because they don't like being in the spotlight! Besides, everyone's talking about them online!

Oh…you seem to know a lot about Wawanaka, Queen Bee.

Nah…not that well.

Ah…then then then, have you heard about the black biker incident?

Black biker?

[Wow…]

It's caused a lot of commotion in Boney Avenue and Wawanaka! It was even on the news yesterday!

….

Wawanaka, somewhere in the Boney Avenue Financial District (midnight)

"You're…a…monster! AHHHHHH!"

The youth let out a piercing scream, raised the metal pipe in his hand, and fled. It was midnight and the youth was making a frenzied dash out of the multi-story carpark. He was gripping metal pipe in his right hand so tightly that it was almost the same temperature as his body. His hands were numbing from the cold sweat seeping from his palms.

There was no one at all, only a few cars waiting silently for their owners.

Aside from the sound of his own heavy footsteps, his breathing, and his rapidly accelerating heartbeat, the carpark was completely silent. Each sound resonated in his ears.

Treading between the huge concrete pillars, the hoodlum howled, "Sh-shit! Shit Shit! Shit! I'm…I'm…I'm…gonna get killed! Fuck this!"

Though the youth's eyes blazed with anger, the words that spilled out of his mouth were clearly fearful.

Till this moment, the tattoo on the hoodlum's neck had been a constant source of fear and intimidation to his enemies. But today, the tattoo on his neck had been distorted into an unrecognizable form by his own fear. A second later, the indigo tattoo he'd acquired on a whim was marked with the unmistakable imprint of a certain black boot–

…

Actually, it's a rumor that's been circulating for a long time. Since most phones now have a camera function, many people have managed to take pictures of the black rider, and it was an instant hit!

[Yeah, I know about that too. But it's not really an urban legend, or anything exotic or bizarre is it? I think it's probably the Skullers…but then again, they haven't been getting together for drag races lately…]

But the fact that it doesn't have any headlights makes it weird enough!

If it was human, that is…

I don't get you.

Ah that…to put it bluntly, it's probably a monster!

…

The boots met flesh to the sound of a soft, cracking noise. The youth was spun in a half-circle midair and flew overhead in a distorted arc.

Though he was concussed by the time the side of his body hit the ground, his limbs still flailed in panic. It was bitingly cold and his body was numb, so he could hardly feel the chill of the concrete. It was like the youth was blindly fleeing from some kind of nightmare. He turned, realizing that the source of his fear was hot on his heels.

What he saw seemed to be a shadow—in fact, the very definition of the word. It was unmistakably a 'shadow'.

The shadow was wearing a black, full-body biker suit with no frivolous designs or emblems. It was so dark that it looked like it had been pitch-black to begin with and dyed with ink to deepen the color. If it hadn't been for the fluorescent lights of the carpark, perhaps, he wouldn't have noticed that someone was there.

But the most ominous part of the shadow was the peculiar helmet it wore above its neck. Together with the pure blackness of body suit, the patterns on the helmet and its shape melded together into some kind of abstract sense of artistry. Though these things contrasted greatly together, they didn't particularly clash.

The visor of the helmet was as dark as the tinted windows of luxury cars. All that could be seen was the constant flickering of the fluorescent lamps and nothing of the expression under the helmet.

"…"

The shadow exuded nothing but a sense of serenity and didn't seem remotely like a living thing. The youth observed the shadow creature with a look contorted by fear and disgust.

"I…I-I-I-I…I don't remember offending no Terminator!"

This would normally sound like a joke, but the youth was clearly not in the mood to crack jokes anymore.

"T-talk! Talk! Who are you? What the hell are you?"

To the youth, the very existence of such a shadow was completely mind-blowing. He had been doing what he was supposed to do, as he normally did at the bottom floor of the carpark. He was just supposed to run some 'errands' and then leave. The errand was a mere delivery of some 'goods' for a client and then a collection of more 'goods'. That was all there was to it, and he had done what he always did. What the hell did he do wrong? What the hell had he done to attract the attention of this…monster—

The youth and his 'colleagues' had only desired a normal work day, but today, their usual routine had been disrupted without a single warning.

As they waited at the entrance of the carpark for the late arrival of one of their colleagues, the shadow had suddenly appeared. A motorcycle had passed the entrance noiselessly, coming to a stop about ten meters away from where they were.

The youth and his colleagues had noticed many oddities as 'it' had passed.

Firstly, when that motorcycle was passing, it hadn't made a single sound. Perhaps there had been the slight sound of the friction of rubber tires against the road, but most importantly, the engine had been completely silent. Of course, the rider could have switched off his engine and merely allowed his momentum to carry him past the entrance; even if this was so, the engine should have made some noise before it had been turned off, but no one had heard any sound from it at all.

The weird thing was, both the motorbike and its rider were completely black. The engine box, the transmission shaft, and even the rim of the wheels were completely black. There were no headlights, and where the license plate was supposed to be, there was only a black metal plaque. Everyone could only manage to discern that the shadow was in fact a motorbike because it was faintly illuminated by the street lamps and the moonlight.

What was even more peculiar was the fact that the rider's black hand was holding a large item. The object's size was comparable to that of the rider, and down the narrower end, an opaque liquid was dripping onto the asphalt.

"Leonard…?"

One of the youth's companions could make out just what the ragged object was. The rider, still on his motorcycle, loosed his grip and flung the object—no, 'him' onto the asphalt.

It was the person they had been waiting for, the 'colleague' who was late. His face was swollen, like he had been beaten ruthlessly and blood dribbled from his nose and mouth.

"It can't be…"

"Who the hell is he?"

Everyone felt rather strange, but none of them felt fearful. They didn't even feel angry about seeing one of their colleagues as beaten as he was, probably because this group was made up of colleagues and nothing more.

"Whaddaya want? Whaddaya want? What the hell do you want?"

One of them, a man wearing a hoodie who looked like the dumbest of the lot stepped forth. There was only one of him and five of them. They had an advantage in terms of numbers, which this made the youth especially arrogant. The moment he'd gotten to the motorbike's side, however, the tables had been turned. It was now one-on-one and the only one who noticed was the one straddling the motorbike.

"…"

Crunch.

There was an ominous shattering sound, something completely unearthly. A sound that made one feel nothing but unease. A sound that set off internal sirens, wailing, 'Danger, danger…'

At the same time, the man in the hoodie keeled over, his face smashing against the asphalt.

"What the—?"

The others were alarmed. Like they usually did whenever they were on a job, they paid close attention to their surroundings. Only then did they realize that the enemy was the motorbike before them and no one else – and that the 'shadow' on the motorcycle was slowly lowering its boot to the ground.

They were watching its movements intently. It had set its foot on the ground, which meant that its foot had been raised above the ground earlier, but the more observant of the colleagues were watching something else entirely.

They were watching what was under the boot: the glasses of the man who had arrived in a hoodie.

Now they finally understood what had transpired.

—The 'shadow', straddling the motorbike had kicked out a leg and knocked down the guy in the hoodie with ease.

If they'd seen the guy's face, they would have notice that he'd broken his nose. The 'shadow' rider had actually calculated the distance of the kick so that it wasn't enough not to send him flying, while it'd used the indentation in the sole of his boot to catch onto his nose and twist it.

The onlookers could hardly grasp this. Half of them found it strange. How could someone who had been kicked that way fall flat? Without a second thought, the other half of the group immediately grabbed the police baton and the stun guns they had strapped to their waists.

"What…what the hell happened? Eh…ah? But…how did he get hurt…?"

While the youths were deliberating on just that, two of their colleagues let out howls of rage and charged at the motorcycle.

"Ah, hey…"

As the youths thought of what to say, they saw the 'shadow' soundlessly slipping off the motorbike. They could hear crunching as he stepped on the broken glass underfoot. The 'shadow' was completely expressionless as he merely took noiseless steps towards them. He moved elegantly, a shadow personified.

The events that transpired next were to become deeply ingrained in the memory of the young hoodlum and felt then like they were played out in slow motion. Perhaps this was because the situation was too surreal to completely comprehend, or because his sense of danger was rapidly increasing by the second.

One of the men had shoved the stun gun into the 'shadow's' body.

—But, could electricity penetrate leather?

He saw the 'shadow' shudder violently as that question came to mind. Apparently it could. Problem solved. The man breathed a sigh of relief and made to shock him twice more, but in the next moment, the hoodlum's chest tightened once again with anxiety.

The 'shadow' was shuddering violently, but he'd shot out a hand to grab one of the other men who was armed with a baton.

"ARGH!"

Unlike the 'shadow', who had merely been shaking, the baton-wielding guy was violently jolted backwards violently and fell on the ground in a heap.

"You bastard…"

The stun gun guy suddenly noticed that the 'shadow' was reaching for him now and hastily turned off his stun gun. The situation did not improve and the 'shadow' had begun to close his hand around his neck.

Even as he struggled with all his strength, the 'shadow' did not release his relentless grip. Even when he kicked the 'shadow' hard in the shins, its helmet exuded only calm and darkness.

"Eh…ah…"

The stun gun guy was strangled until his eyes rolled up into their sockets, leaving only the whites of his eyes visible. He collapsed in much the same way the baton guy had.

—Not good.

Even though he didn't really know what was going on, he knew that whatever it was, it wasn't good. He hadn't moved an inch. Including Koji, four out of six of them were already down. Terror manifested itself in the hoodlum's chest, not because he was cowardly, but because he had no idea what was going on at all.

"Looks like he knows some hand to hand…"

The hoodlum was scared shitless, but his colleague on his right was much calmer and whispered his speculations.

"Ga-san."

In response, the hoodlum called his name needily. The man that the hoodlum called Ga-san could have been considered the leader of the colleagues' group. He watched the 'shadow's' movements silently. Even though there was no sign of intense fear in his eyes, it couldn't be said that he was entirely composed.

Ga-san drew a large knife out of his jacket. "I don't know what you've dabbled in…but you'll die if you get stabbed with this," he said cautiously as he held the knife in hand and staggered toward the 'shadow'.

The knife twirled in his hands. It was much larger than a fruit knife or a dagger, but it wasn't as large as those knives in manga's. The hilt of the knife fit perfectly in a palm, and the blade, which was about as long as its hilt, gleamed coldly.

"I don't care what you've done before, but I don't think you can hold this off with your bare hands…huh? Huh?"

The actions of the 'shadow' brought his provocations to an abrupt halt.

The 'shadow' bent down slightly and picked up the two things before him: the baton and the stun gun that the two hoodlums had wielded before.

"…"

In his right hand, he held a stun gun. In his left was a police baton. It was a strange form of nito-ryuu2.

The carpark, previously as quiet as it was eerie, had plunged into total silence.

"Eh…weird… It can't be! You're not using hand-to-hand?" the leader asked, breaking the silence. He sounded as if he was questioning himself instead of the 'shadow'.

Though his question sounded a little like a joke, fear was thick in his voice. If only they'd attacked this guy all at once from the get-go! Now it seemed like there was no way out and he'd look bad if he decided to retreat.

The hoodlum standing behind him was rooted to the spot. If the opponent had been some gang member or the police, he would have jumped in to help without a second thought. No, all four of them would have stepped in to help.

But at this very moment, the 'thing' they were up against was just too strange. They were no longer acting the way they had been earlier. Standing before them was just someone wearing a biker's suit, but the unpleasant aura that the 'shadow' exuded made him uneasy, as though his own existence was flowing into some otherworldly place.

Perhaps because he'd noticed the hoodlum's uneasiness, Ga-san gritted his teeth and yelled, "You asshole! I only have one knife on me and you're cowerin' over there! You little pussy!"

As he protested against how unfair things were for him, the 'shadow' had silently gotten to his feet and had faced the leader.
And then the hoodlum saw 'that' materialize into a tangible form right before his very eyes.

…

The black rider isn't human.

Then what is it?

[Just an idiot.]

Guitar Guy says it's probably the Grim Reaper.

Guitar Guy?

I've seen it before, actually…the black biker chasing someone.

Who's Guitar Guy?

[Did you call the police?]

How should I put it… Basically, the fact that it had that thing meant it couldn't be human.

…Hey don't ignore me! Who's Guitar Guy?!

At first I wasn't sure, but then I realized it had come from inside his body—

…

?

[I think he got disconnected.]

Huh? But he was just in the middle of both stories! What came from inside his body?

And who's Guitar Guy?

Supersilver46: Here's the second chapter, thanks to everyone who've reviewed so far! I'm pretty sure most of you have a guess to the people in the chat room are, and who Guitar Guy is, and I'm sure you'll see them soon!