Author's note: Reader Discretion is advised. This chapter is pretty graphic, and almost warrants an M rating. If you're uncomfortable with violence, you should skip this chapter completely. I'll give a safe-for-reading summary at the start of the next chapter, so you won't be missing anything. The Devil's Hand
"I guess. The boss doesn't generally call this late."
"Well, I suppose that's it then. We ordering takeout or what?"
"That pizza crap again? Where's your respect for traditional Japanese cuisine?"
"Shut up, Kazushi. You can't cook worth shit. Don't listen to this chump. Order the damn pizza."
"Fuck all of you."
A sullen silence descended on the room as one of the three speakers took out his phone, and quickly scrolled down the list of contacts to the pizzeria they ordered from most often. Four extra large were ordered, and once more silence followed, aside from the muffled shaking of the windowpanes. A powerful gale roared outside, but they had seen it coming and prepared beforehand. The place had plenty of provisions, and the men were all back to their quarters. It made no sense being stuck outside in the storm when there weren't any orders from higher up.
Lightning struck, followed by a deafening crack of thunder.
"Oi, oi, this is no joke, is it? Is the pizza guy even going to be able to make it here in this weather?"
"Hey, it's his choice. Four pizzas now, or a month's worth of free deliveries."
Loud laughter followed the joke.
It drowned out the faint sounds an extremely perceptive person might be able to hear if they were actively listening for them.
The sounds of a door opening, with an almost detectable click.
This particular room was located on the fifth and topmost floor of the building, barring the roof. It was separated from the rest of the flats in the apartment complex. One of the measures taken for this was the presence of extra thick walls, which masked sound coming from within the room. In addition, the room directly below this one was locked, and off limits. All of this was to separate the brass from the grunts, and ensure the privacy of the former.
The door was reinforced, as were the windows. Although guns were rare in Japan, this particular room was about as protected from external sharpshooters as it could be without attracting undue attention.
It was ironic: all these measures taken for the protection of the three high ranking executives in that room… would end up being their downfall.
The door closed, after which the knob was turned into the locked position, and the safety chain was silently inserted into its groove on the wall too, doubly securing the room from the inside, sealing it as a coffin.
The three men in suits continued to laugh, one of them lowering the temp on the air conditioner while another grabbed a bottle of liquor and began to open it. The cap unscrewed, his hand hovered over a glass, about to pour the drink into it, when it happened.
It was so fast, so decisive, so precise, so accurate; there was no way three men in such a lax state of mind could have reacted to it.
The first strike was delivered by the tips of four fingers, driven right into the hollow of the throat, with uncompromising force. Instantaneous destruction of the windpipe.
Even before the man began to cough blood, the attacker had moved. Moving with near-inhuman agility, they flipped over another of the three men, using the back-rest of his couch as the gripping point for her hands. Landing behind him, she gave him no time to stand up, or even turn around.
The second strike was a violent elbow to the back of the neck, on the brain stem. Possible results: loss of coordination, permanent paralysis, death.
Which left, only one of the three.
Kazushi began to reach inside his coat on instinct, looking to grab the gun strapped in the holster he was wearing.
A pair of cold, violet eyes locked on to him, and he froze in fear.
It was less than a second, but it was enough.
The attacker had already gotten close to him by the time he had started to go for his gun. Given the extra time, they charged right in, grabbing the gun arm and pushing it against his own chest, trapping it, making sure he could not pull out the weapon. Still, Kazushi had not made it this far up by being a weakling. He began to shove back, using his other arm as well.
As soon as it felt like he might push the attacker back, their knee shot forward, catching him in the groin, which he had not thought to guard. Pain exploded, shutting out all thought. Before he could even begin to counter it, what felt like a hammer connected with his jaw, knocking him out cold right away.
Two targets crippled, possibly for life. The third unconscious. It was not the ideal outcome, but then, she already knew it was unlikely this whole affair would end without people getting hurt.
Hiratsuka Shizuka straightened up, brushing back a stray lock of her hair as she surveyed the scene.
I'm out of practice. That was messy… nearly screwed up on that last guy. If he hadn't frozen up, I might be dead or worse right now.
She pushed the thought out of her head. It didn't matter. She had survived. That's all that counts in a fight.
Her strikes had been effective, not giving any of the three to grunt, scream in pain, thrash about, or otherwise make too much noise. It was a good added bonus, despite the soundproofing making sure that none of the men below would hear anything.
It hadn't been easy sneaking into the building: the ones below were far more vigilant than these three, probably out of fear of the consequences of screwing up.
Heh. A lot of people are going to be punished tomorrow, Shizuka thought.
She once again looked at her three incapacitated targets. She would need to act fast. Anyone might come here at any moment. Maybe someone carrying a message, or checking if the bosses needed something.
Lifting up her black long-sleeved top, she revealed a length of rope tied around her waist. Quickly removing it, she proceeded to tie the trio up. She knew quite well that there were plenty of ways to escape if only the hands and ankles were secured. She also knew there was a far more effective way of ensuring the captive didn't even attempt escape.
An extremely painful binding that locked the arms behind the head, and pulled the restrained feet backwards, using the captive's head as the counterweight. It placed pressure on the spine, but trying to relieve this pressure caused the ropes to dig into the mouth.
Not incidentally, Bryan Nelson was the one who had first introduced her to this method of imprisonment.
Two of the men she bound in this position. The third, she tied to a chair. Since she'd have her attention on him, it didn't matter if he tried to break free. There would be plenty of time to knock him out again. The only risk, albeit not a significant one, was if he started shouting, and his underlings heard him.
She cracked her knuckles.
She had deterrents for that too.
Satisfied, she went into the adjoining bathroom, and filled up a bucket around halfway with water. Carrying it back into the living room, she emptied it right above Kazushi's head.
With a tremendous, gasping breath, he woke up, shivering with cold.
"Rise and shine."
The man continued to gasp for several seconds, struggling to regain some semblance of his bearings. It took a while, but he was finally able to adjust to the sudden chill caused by being doused by tap water in an air-conditioned room. He shook around, eyes widening as he realized he was tied up. Turning to Shizuka, his initial expression of anger changed as the blood drained from his face.
"Sh-shinigami…" he whispered, shaking with fear.
Deathmask to Western world and the English speakers. Shinigami to the Japanese.
The undying spectre of the underground ring who laughed at pain, fought with injuries that would cripple lesser warriors, and left legions of broken foes in her wake. The fear inspired by the figure was legendary, bordering on mythical.
"You broke the rules," said Shizuka coldly.
The man was sweating now, his own fluids mixing with the water running down him.
"I- I had no choice," he protested. "He cannot be refused! I would be killed! We all would."
"And you think, after crossing me, you won't?"
Kazushi instantly realized his mistake, but it was too late. He had already spoken.
"Where is he?" said Shizuka.
"I- I don't know-"
Left hook to face. Not hard enough to knock out. Just enough to remove a few teeth. This was the surgical power and precision of the monster known as Deathmask.
"Wrong answer. Try again."
"I DON'T KN-"
Straight punch to solar plexus.
"You're too loud. Now, I'll ask one final time, so you better answer correctly. Where. Is. He?"
The man was completely terrified now, the words pouring from him in a hurry as he spilled whatever he could in an attempt to escape death.
"Bryan Nelson doesn't tell anyone his plans! He didn't tell us anything! He came out of nowhere: we didn't stand a chance! And… we must appease him. If we don't, Tokyo will be at war. You know this: the Yoshida Clan will not allow one of their allies to be attacked. And… Bryan has always been given liberties no one else has."
Shizuka swore mentally.
Of course she knew.
Bryan was the enforcer of the Brazilian Cartels. But he was also their emissary. A necessary go-between that kept certain channels of communication and trade open between the clans in Japan, and those in Brazil. As a result, despite how costly his visits were, he was tolerated. It was the reason behind his enormous influence and power. He was considered an Ally by the Yoshida, one of the largest clans in Tokyo.
Shizuka herself had contacts among the men in suits. Most of the clans had designated her an Honoured Guest. There was also an explicit agreement between her and their council: since she had paid off all her debts, and fought with honour to achieve the impossible in the Vale Tudo ring, she was given the gift given only to greatest of gladiators in Ancient Rome.
Freedom.
Shizuka was not to be touched, tailed, hindered, acted against, or even contacted by any sworn member of the Clans.
It was the reason she had been able to retire in peace.
In addition to this safeguard, some of the Clans also owed her favours, and them she had given one simple task: if anyone came looking after her, to redirect them to a certain location, which was not Chiba.
This was her trap: a location where she could observe and ascertain the motives of the would-be pursuer, and eliminate them if necessary.
The Clan office she was at now was one of the families that owed her this favour.
They were also one of the families known to be close to the Yoshida. Thus, Shizuka knew there was a high chance these were the people Bryan would go to in order to extract information about her.
They were to have sent him to the trap location she had prepared. The location where she had waited to finish him.
But he had never arrived.
Meaning, she had been double-crossed.
She shook her head. Now was not the time to lose control. If they couldn't tell her where he was…
"What did he ask you?"
"He… he wanted to know where you live… what you do."
Shizuka swore.
"And I suppose, like the fuckwit you are, you told him?"
The man nodded, too ashamed and scared to speak.
Damn it! I fucked up. I thought I'd hunt him down… but he's in Chiba.
Her eyes widened.
Wait. He knew what she did for a living. That meant he would go to Soubu High.
Hachiman.
With a final brutal hook, she knocked Kazushi back out again and rushed to one of the windows, opening it. Before climbing out, she smashed one of the fire alarms. The underlings would come and untie them; it was best if they didn't die from the way the ropes restricted their blood flow.
As the alarm blared, she made her way down the fire exit, running as fast as she could.
I need to get to Chiba.
With everyone preoccupied with trying to make sure the bosses were OK, it was easy for her to slip out unnoticed from the complex. One on the street, she sprinted. She'd left the Aston Martin in Chiba. From her current location to back there was at least a day's ride, if she didn't rest at all, and if she was able to go at least 100 km/h on average. She needed a car.
Before she could even tackle the question of how to obtain one, her phone buzzed, and she whipped it out of her pocket, coming to a stop.
Unlocking it, her eyes widened at the name of the text's sender.
Bryan Nelson.
Multimedia files attached.
Frowning, she opened the message.
Hello, Serpente. Right about now, you should have realized that you've been led on a nice little dance. Returning home is a good idea. I've even given you some incentive to do so. PS: I had no idea a treasure like this even existed in this town.
She opened the attached video, and gasped at what she saw.
"Hachiman…"
It was the boy all right, in a fight. The video had been recorded on a phone. Judging by how steady the hand was, she assumed Bryan had done it himself.
But the Hachiman in the video was completely different from the one she had trained.
From the instant she saw his opponent on screen, she knew that what she had taught him so far would be insufficient against him.
It's too soon! I didn't have time to show you how to deal with people like that!
She watched, worried that he would be massacred. When he walked into the larger boy's jab, she all but thought it was over.
But that was when it happened.
His movements changed entirely.
It was a single decisive move. One move, that marked the change. From uncertain and stumbling… to fluid and piercing.
A last minute slip, dodging his opponent's punch, a hair's breadth from being knocked out. And in that same instant, turning the evasive movement into an attack.
Overhand counter? I didn't show him that. No… for him to pull out something like that in a situation like that…
A cornered beast is at its most dangerous.
On the verge of being knocked out, Hachiman had transformed. From a boy who fought… into a fighter.
To instinctively use that particular move, known as a great equalizer against larger opponents…
Hachiman… just who are you?
The video ended, and Shizuka saw that an image file was attached as well. She opened it, and saw a picture of Hachiman… at his home. He was visible through one of the living room windows of his house. In the frame also, close to the camera, was Bryan, who was holding up a peace sign.
Shizuka paled, and broke into a sprint.
Present Time:
Hachiman approached the shopping centre where Komachi was supposed to be. Outside the entrance, he turned to look at the group of boys standing behind him. There were ten of them.
"You're sure this is where she is?" he asked.
"Absolutely, Hikigaya Taichou."
It's "captain" now, huh?
He looked at the entrance. The security guard was looking at them with trepidation. He was alone, a single older man who looked quite frail.
So the consequences of my actions must come on to him?
"Hikigaya Taichou, I doubt he will stop us. And he'll be too scared to call the cops if some of us stay behind."
Hachiman turned to look at the one who had spoken, who instantly flinched under his glare.
"What's your name?"
"Ha-Hamada."
"Hamada, if you ever even think of pushing people around unprovoked again, it's going to hurt. Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes, Taichou."
He looked at each of them.
Mostly older than him. Still young though, and still impressionable. Living in this fool's world of wannabe gangsters. A world he himself had been forced to enter because it was the only way he could protect the ones he cared about.
Still, these boys looked at him as an example. As their leader.
The thought scared him, that he was actually being looked up to as someone to be obeyed and emulated.
It was an enormous amount of power to hold.
"Listen to me," he said, the words coming out before he could stop himself. "You've been living like assholes. All of you. There's nothing remotely good about beating up those who can't fight back. About picking quarrels with anyone and everyone. About hurting someone just to prove you're stronger than them. These are the actions of scum. I won't have scum following me around."
The boys looked at him in awe, as if he were saying something wondrous.
Hachiman mentally shook his head.
This was all common sense and basic human decency.
He walked up to the elderly guard, aware now that he was not approaching as an ordinary civilian.
The man shrunk back, gazing with fear at the black cylindrical pack slung on Hachiman's back.
The boy bowed slightly.
"Apologies, sir. We will be doing something we're not supposed to. At this moment, you can make things a lot harder for us if you wish. But I humbly request that you don't."
"What… what are you planning to do?"
"My sister is inside, sir. She's being tailed by some troublesome individuals. People who don't heed warnings. Who don't respect the dignity of others. Against such people, what choice do I have but to fight?"
"What are you going to do to them?"
The look in Hachiman's eyes was answer enough, and the old man nearly took a step back. But he didn't.
Certainly, there was fire and violence in those eyes. Narrow, and sharp, they seemed to stare right into him. Cold. Those eyes were unnerving.
But with age comes wisdom. The man had learnt not to judge by appearances alone. He had also learnt not to be influenced so much by one's own prejudices that one misses the truth.
There might have been violence in Hachiman's eyes, but there was something else too. He was here to protect his sister, and that concern was written all over him.
And he had decided to come and say it all directly instead of force his way in like so many delinquents do.
He's no ordinary street thug.
In his bearing, the elderly guard saw some of the stuff that had earned such respect for the folks in the black suits in ages past.
"It- it'll cause an inconvenience."
Hachiman's bow deepened.
"No customer shall be inconvenienced, other than the ones I spoke of."
"W-what do you want me to do?"
"Destroy security footage of us entering through this front gate. The incident shall not draw attention, thus, you'll not be called upon to show the footage. That, and simply to not intervene while I take care of those scum."
The guard was in a difficult situation. What he was about to do would cost him his job if he was found out…
"If you are found out, say that I threatened you into letting me in. I will corroborate this story if I am arrested."
Unable to find an argument for that, the old man simply nodded.
Hachiman turned to look at his followers, who were staring at him as if they had never seen anything like him before.
"Hikigaya Taichou… you…"
"Enough dawdling. Let's get this done. Hamada, lead the way."
The older student did so, and in moments, they met up with another group of students, whose faces Hachiman recognized as being from Soubu.
"They're down below, Hikigaya Sempai," they said. Not being direct subordinates of Hachiman, they addressed him by the general honorific reserved for the Nine Fists.
Hachiman looked down from the platform on which he was, to the food court below. Right away, he caught sight of Komachi, and a few other girls with her, dressed in the same Middle School uniform.
And… watching her from a few tables away, boys whom he recognized as also being from that school. There were plenty of students in the food court, and plenty from that school, which helped mask their presence and allowed them to blend in. Komachi and her friends wouldn't have noticed anything off, since there were so many people from her school there. Even if she did, it would be difficult to spot who exactly out of all of them was tailing her.
Hachiman counted three of them.
Elsewhere in the foodcourt, he also caught sight of the three bullies who had first assaulted him at Soubu, a year ago. The ones who had started this whole mess. After being beaten up by Shizuka, they had sought revenge by going after Komachi.
"Six in total," Hachiman said to the enforcers of the Nine Fists. "Am I missing anyone?"
"No, Sempai."
"Good. Then this will be easy. There are twenty one of us here in total. Go down, and round all six of them up. Make sure they don't struggle or make a scene here. Once you've got them, bring them over to the local park here."
They bowed to him, and proceeded on their way.
As Hachiman watched, he had to admit, the enforcers of the Nine Fists were incredibly good. Their impressive physiques were backed up by actual fighting skills, making them intimidating. They were able to force all six of the boys to accompany them. To a casual observer, it might look like students hanging out. Typical high school hierarchy at work, seniors dragging their juniors around. Nothing new, nothing alarming.
Within moments, they had managed to drag them out the front gate, Hachiman following a little way behind.
Once he exited, he bowed slightly to the old man, who stared with incredulous eyes, unable to understand how they had pulled it all off without causing a scene.
Getting to the park didn't take long.
It was evening, and the street lights were already on, but very few people in their right minds would interrupt or get involved in a fight between high school delinquents in a place like this. And very few would consider it worth their time to tell an officer about it. Instead, most people would simply hurry past, glad it didn't involve them.
In the park, the enforcers had surrounded the six thugs, preventing them from going anywhere.
Hachiman approached the ring, which parted to let him through to the centre.
Upon seeing his face, his former bullies' eyes widened with recognition and anger.
They began to speak, but Hachiman filtered out their words.
Hmm… I could have all twenty of these guys beat them up. It'd be easy. But… it's not a solution. That's the same thing any high school delinquent jerk off would do. Besides… this is my fight, isn't it?
He unstrung the black container from his back, about to unzip it, but then threw it aside to one of the enforcers, who caught it.
"Hold on to that for a while."
He did not say out loud that he did not want anyone interfering in this fight.
His actions made that loud and clear.
Hachiman was already warmed up. The anger and adrenaline had his body firing on all cylinders, ready to go.
Six on one, huh?
He wouldn't take on such odds against skilled fighters.
But his eyes told him… none of these six were skilled or strong.
And he knew for certain that all three of the bullies who used to torment him were actually weaklings.
He was different now.
He walked forward, rolling his shoulders as he went.
The thugs looked around, eyes darting to the massive boys surrounding them, trying to determine if a group attack was coming. When none of them moved, they realized the absurd truth: Hachiman was about to take them on by himself.
"Hah! You're a little full of yoursel-"
The boy's words died as a fist crashed right under his eye. He collapse immediately.
Hachiman casually continued to walk forward, shaking his left wrist as he did so.
The recent fights had increased his fighting power astronomically.
From open palm strikes, he had learnt how to punch safely with closed fists. His sense of distance, and his timing and form had improved. The result? He now knew exactly when to tighten his fist to protect it and do damage. He also knew exactly how to transfer his mass into the blow, striking it with maximum power.
And most frightening of all, his eyes, which saw everything.
Every twitch and tell of his opponents, every opening, no matter how small, every lapse in concentration… and every target.
Those eyes allowed him to pinpoint small targets on his opponents' bodies, and strike them.
And thanks to his recent fights, he knew exactly where to strike to cause an instant knockout.
It was an unusual and borderline impossible skillset for someone so young and inexperienced to have… but Hachiman was not an ordinary fighter.
He was walking around with instant knockout power that he could call upon at will.
The remaining five boys stared in shock at the downed one, creating further opportunities for Hachiman.
Dashing in with the footwork Shizuka had taught him, he struck with three more jabs, causing three more bodies to hit the floor.
These moves wouldn't work on experienced fighters, who'd have much better defence. But these were ordinary punks… against a boy who had trained under an undefeated champion of the arena, and been advised by one of the most dangerous special ops soldiers alive today.
All that, combined with his natural, God-gifted fighting instinct… meant that he was improving at an accelerated rate.
Only two remained now, both of them among the bullies who had once tormented Hachiman.
"You dirty little piece of shit!"
The leader of the trio charged at Hachiman, who shot out his foot, catching him right in the groin.
The boy's eyes blanked out with pain, and Hachiman kicked him a second time, in the shin, causing him to stagger, bringing his head lower, and disrupting his balance, creating the perfect opportunity.
The anger he had for so long against these three, for what they had done to him. And now, for daring to go after Komachi. It all burst, and he channeled every last bit of the rage into a single blow.
Planting his feet firmly, he turned his hips and droved his torso forward, slamming his closed fist into the boy's face with all the power he could muster, in the heaviest overhand punch he had delivered yet.
The larger boy was actually sent almost flying backwards, landing heavily on his back on the ground, already unconscious.
The one remaining boy was shaking with fear now, but it was too late.
Hachiman dashed in with a left. The boy covered up desperately. Hachiman's hands were like the touch of death.
But in covering up so much, he had left his sides open.
Ignoring technique, Hachiman violently pummeled his ribs with punch after punch.
They didn't do much damage, but the opponent was too terrified to fight back now.
Hachiman grabbed his hair and pushed, while sweeping his legs, imitating a throw he had seen often.
The opponent landed on the ground, and Hachiman mounted him. From that position, he rained down punch after punch on his unguarded face, his hardened hands reducing it to a bloody mess in seconds.
The boy was still conscious, but crying now, with no fight left in him.
Breathing slightly hard, Hachiman got to his feet and reached out a hand in a silent gesture. Immediately, someone hurried forward and passed him the black case he had been carrying. Unzipping it, he unsheathed the aluminum baseball bat he had gotten from the school storage.
Hachiman had always had a good swing. A loner by nature, one of his favourite games to play by himself had been throwing the ball high up into the air and waiting for it to drop. Once in reach, he would hit it with the bat, aiming for the wall in front of him.
It had resulted in a unique sense of timing.
Feeling the familiar grip and weight, he swung a few times in the air, and nodded, satisfied.
"Wake them up," he said.
Immediately, they were lifted and supported upright, while bottles of water were open and upended above their heads. It took a while, but all six of them were brought to consciousness.
As they came to, they stared at Hachiman. Not with anger now. Not any more.
That had been the reason for fighting all six of them barehanded first. To show them exactly how outmatched they were.
"It's a funny thing, isn't it? How the tables turn."
The thugs sweat profusely. Some opened their mouths to plead, but Hachiman tapped the ground with the bat, silencing them instantly.
"I was willing to let it go, you know. People fight in school. People do stupid shit. That's what being young is. I would have let it go. But then, you all thought you were real criminals. Real hard. Went after my sister."
There was no inflection to his voice. It was a perfectly neutral tone, and extremely unnerving.
"Well, you got your wish. I see you as real thugs now. And that is how you'll be dealt with."
He tapped the ground with the bat again.
The six were squirming around now, desperately trying to get free, with growing fear in their eyes.
But to no avail. The enforcers held them down with iron grips.
"Hamada," said Hachiman. "What's a good way to dispose of a dead body?"
"Ah, Taichou, I've heard a fully grown pig can go through a human carcass in minutes."
"This is interesting. Hey, do any of you happen to rear pigs?"
One of the other boys answered this time.
"Sempai, my uncle's in the agriculture sector, but he also keeps livestock. Family's prize pig is named Betsy."
"Think Betsy would be okay with these six?"
"I mean, we'd need to wash and disinfect 'em first to make 'em halfway appetizing, but I think we can manage."
Hachiman laughed, and so did all the enforcers, to the complete horror of the six captives.
One of them actually had tears running down his face now.
"Hey, this is enough. We're sorry. Please let us go… please…"
"Eh?" said Hachiman, "But we haven't even started yet. Hamada, did you know? I'm pretty good at baseball. I think I could probably crush six skulls in six blows. You're a big buy. Think you can pull off something like that?"
"Unfortunately, I can only bunt, Taichou. But hey, a stationery head is much easier to hit than a moving ball."
Experimentally, Hachiman took a swing, striking one of the bars of a swing, causing a clear, deep ringing of metal on metal.
"Damn, Taichou. That's a hell of a swing. You'd go six for six for sure."
A nasty stench was permeating the air now. Several of the thugs had pissed themselves.
"Oi, oi, that's rude, you know? There's this innovation called a bathroom. Try it sometime."
More laughter, even as the enforcers dropped the boys and backed away, pinching their noses.
Too scared and weak to move, they didn't even try to run.
Hachiman looked at them.
There was a part of him that really did want to use the bat. He was scared to think that he wasn't completely bluffing about that.
But he was also thankful.
Thankful that he had retained enough of himself to not cross that line.
"I know where you all live now. This is your last chance. Stay the hell away from me and mine. If you don't, I won't be so gentle next time."
With that, he turned around and walked away, the enforcers following him.