Having come back to the precinct late that night after having gone back to his apartment to shower and pack a bag, Detective Morris was asleep on the cot in the corner of his office when he was awakened rather suddenly by a loud and stressed-sound Farley.
"Morris! Man, get up. We got all kinds of trouble here."
Morris stirred, sitting up and rubbing his head. He had been out for maybe four hours, having gotten back before midnight and passed out soon after.
"Wha? Farley, what the hell happened?"
"Origin was hit."
"Origin?" He sat up, shaking his head.
"The nightclub. Southeast side."
"Wait, the crime den?"
"Well, it's used for crime a lot, but it's still been hit by what I'm guessing is our guy, judging by a couple of the stragglers that had come running into the precinct down there."
"Why'd they call us?"
"They got like five people working there. And a cop was killed, too."
"Shit," he muttered, realizing how bad it's gotten. "Gimme a minute. And you're stopping for coffee."
"Me?"
"Yeah, you're driving. I'm gonna need to take some shit with me."
"Hurry up, then." Farley turned and left to go upstairs.
Pulling his sweatshirt over his t-shirt-he didn't particularly give a crap about his appearance right now at four in the morning-he grabbed his coat and slid his shoes on, heading upstairs.
This is gonna be a long week.
Pulling up to Club Origin-already taped off by the officers in the front, Farley and Morris got out of Farley's big car as the latter grabbed his kit that he knew he'd be needing. Birkon was already there, walking quickly and frantically up to the car as he would, already looking like he had woken up with a stick up his ass.
Which was normal, to be sure, with or without the rampant body count.
"Took you long enough," he said, his grating, nasally voice as annoying as ever.
Morris pulled a cigarette out and lit it before grabbing his large-sized coffee. "Yeah, there was some traffic," he snarked. ""People real excited to get down here, I guess." He tried to hide his eyeroll, as Birkon technically outranked him, useless as he was. "So our guy's back?"
"What's it look like to you?" he said, pointing inside at the carnage. Some blood had trailed out, but it seemed to stop after a short way.
"Get the dogs to try to track?"
"They're trying. The rest of the scents around this place stop 'em up."
"Can't blame 'em. Still, maybe they'll find something." South Town PD's police hounds were not known to have been of the most prime stock.
Farley pushed by him, peeking inside of the place. Morris joined in, exhaling deeply.
"Well, fuck," the coroner said.
Several other paled officers were picking through the human wreckage. There was no way to tell a body count yet; everyone immediately put masks on to hide the stench of blood and death. The kills were fresh...but there were so many bodies they didn't know where to start.
"Guess I might skip lunch. And dinner," Farley said, pulling his gloves on and heading in, trying to maneuver around the corpses.
An officer pushed past Morris, heaving whatever he had to eat that evening outside...mostly dry heaves, by the sound. He then walked up to Birkon, throwing his badge at him.
"Fuck this. I'm gone," the detective heard him say. Birkon was too flabbergasted to respond.
Morris shook his head, and decided to start examining the place, taking notes as he could. There wasn't much to take; it was basically pure carnage.
Farley started setting out various markers, he began picking through some of the wreckage to get an idea of what may have happened. Turning toward Morris, he nodded toward the back.
"Take a look there, I guess. I'll let you know what I got."
"I think it's safe to say this might be our guy?"
"Oh, yeah."
Heading toward the back, he saw the man by the wall, a few other corpses, and one of them with his head smashed in on what seemed to be a coke mirror. Out back, he sucked in air as he saw one man that was split in two.
Hurrying back in, he thumbed toward the back.
"We got a guy cut in half back there," Morris said, fairly bluntly. "Along with some who will probably need some more detailed identification. Our DNA lab must be having an absolute field day right now," he snarked.
"I talked to them yesterday. They hadn't been this busy in awhile."
"Well, better tell 'em they may be working overtime."
"I'm sure they'll be thrilled," Farley snorted, picking up an unidentified bloodied and splintered bone in his gloved hand before grimacing.
"Anyway, I need to go see the alley. They mentioned that's where the officer was."
"Shit, yeah. I'll probably be there next."
"Right," the detective said, making his way back out in the fresh air; or, well, what could count as fresh air in this part of town. Compared to what was in there, it was a country breeze.
Sliding the mask off, he continued toward the alleyway...where he noticed the unfortunate remains of the officer. The closer he got...he recognized the outfit, though his head was scattered all over the place, as was usual for this killer, as it would seem.
"Fuck," he said. "Rian's new partner."
"Serious?" one of the other officers who was there asked.
"Yeah. I remember the guy. Can't say I knew him well...but that's his usual outfit." He went to pull the bent, bloodied badge off the ground. "I'll run it to make sure, but...I'm pretty sure this is him."
"Shit, that's two Rian's been through. That dude's bad luck, it seems."
"I have a feeling he won't be getting any applications for awhile. Wasn't his other partner killed by some psycho?"
"Yeah, the guy they apparently got runnin' around Second Southtown."
"...You think there's a connection?" Morris did not like those implications.
"Hell if I know. Though...this guy doesn't seem to be in any better-or worse-condition than the rest. He's just...splattered. Nothing extra done beyond what's done to the others."
"And different wounds."
"Yeah, Rian's first partner was sliced up and pulled apart. Like the other victims."
Morris rubbed his chin, shaking his head. "You don't think these psychos are working together, do you?"
"Fuck, I hope not."
"Anyway, I'll send Farley here when he's done in the club. If he ever gets done in the club."
"Yeah, it was bad. I didn't even go all the way in and I could tell."
"Oh, you should go see for yourself," Morris replied darkly.
"I think I'll pass," the man grimaced.
Turning back, he flipped out his notepad again to begin taking copious amounts of scribbles on what exactly the hell may have been going on here.
He stood once again in the old apartment, staring out the window. He seemed to simply stare, looking over the city, as if his eyes would scan for...things.
Jhun somehow kept some scant memories of his life intact. He ate if he was hungry. He drank if he was thirsty. And he somehow, in some way of reaching back to a previous life he could not remember, decided to run himself under some water, though he was not particularly prudent about it, before dressing again...the blood mostly covered by the black clothing.
He delivered justice at the nightclub, he knew. Such an unsavory place. The officer had the gall to approach him menacingly, so it was time for him to go, too.
There were more out there, weren't there?
There were definitely more.
Lots more.
"Jesus christ."
"Yeah, I ain't goin' near that part o' town again."
"I didn't like goin' there to begin with."
"So I guess we got a couple more regulars?" Richard cleaned a glass, placing it on the counter.
"You could say that. Plus, your guy here makes a damn good mojito." Billy swirled the drink in his glass, finishing it.
"You know," Ryo started-he, his sister and his friend having decided to stop in tonight-"I swear I wouldn't have pegged you two for fancy drinks."
"You ought to see them with the Blue Angels," Bob chuckled.
Yuri giggled at this. "That's new."
"'Ey, don't knock 'em til you tried 'em." Billy scowled. "Plus I didn't think we'd peg you for having fun ever, Sakazaki."
"We made him come, else we were going to tell Dad how he messed up one of the ovens."
Robert snorted while the elder Sakazaki brother simply shut up and sipped his drink.
"Hidin' from the ol' man, eh?" Billy teased.
"Hey, wait a sec. Turn this up," Robert interrupted, pointing at the TV. Richard obliged.
"The number of dead are unknown yet, but police have cordoned off the area from any and all outsiders as well as blocked off news in a five block radius. We will report back to you when we know more. Until then, it is advised to stay away from the southeast side around Club Origin, and its general vicinity."
"Club Origin?" Ryo said, scratching his head. "Who the hell goes there?"
"Criminals?" Yuri asked, grabbing the drink on the counter.
"Not me, I'll say that much," Billy said, drinking down half of his mojito.
"That wasn't even your grounds anyway, Billy," Duck said, adjusting his glasses.
"Yeah, and it ain't never gonna be now."
"Scared of a boogeyman?"
"Me? I don't see you down there cleanin' the place up, Duckie."
The three Kyokugenryu practitioners all looked at each other, looked at the other two, and shrugged, sipping their drinks, not knowing what was invisibly brewing between the borders of South Town and Second Southtown.