Kneeling before Prince Koenma, in his main office, with the clown ogre Jorge standing at his side like the little pet that he is, I speak in Japanese "Prince Koenma, I am relaying news from our spirit detective from the Philippines, Rodolfo Bautista Altamirano. The investigation that Altamirano and his partner, Vijaya Aruna Kumaran, have conducted concerning the disappearances by Mount Parawagan and the Marikina river…has revealed that several demons, along with potentially…'possessed'…humans, have maintained a human slaughterhouse. At least seven humans confirmed dead and 'stored' for future consumption. Three demons and two humans have been liquidated, though we were unable to verify the current location of the humans' souls. There have been other…discoveries of note."

Koenma, sitting at his desk, ignoring his towering piles of paperwork to make a pyramid made of western playing cards, attempts to place two cards on the third level of pyramid, hardly paying attention to what I'm saying. The queen of diamonds and the king of clubs. About to place…the pyramid barely remains together, and Koenma exhales in relief, almost dropping the pacifier from his mouth. This is ridiculous. I hide my annoyance and brush one of my stray blue hairs off my Spirit Defense Force uniform. Koenma, acting his physical toddler appearance, speaks "Go on. I did not tell you to stop." I hide my frustration and sense of being insulted.

As he reaches for two more playing cards, a ten of spades and an eight of hearts, I speak "A book was recovered from the slaughterhouse. It is in Romanian, and contained a note, also in Romanian. It has been translated, essentially notes on durations of…something. Measured in hours, days. Locations as well. One location referred to a house in Manila, where a normally uninteresting human recently hacked his wife to death while shouting of hallucinations." Prince Koenma's hand slips, causing the ten of spades to smack the half-complete pyramid with enough force to collapse the whole thing. The eight of hearts slips out of his grasp as well, landing onto the pile on top of the ten of spades. Looking quite disappointed, Prince Koenma speaks "Damn it." He turns his attention toward me, and speaks "Shun-Jun, do you think it is her? Why would Viorica Onicescu reveal herself? It's been almost a year since she fled from Romania."

I speak "Unknown. There has been some debate amongst my peers that she may have been experimenting with her psychic powers. Perhaps making friends in the region? The two possessed humans at the slaughterhouse, the murder in Manila…perhaps she is stretching her legs? And if a few demons get free meals from the effort, perhaps they might see her as a useful ally? Just all conjecture so far, we will likely know more soon." Prince Koenma nods and taps his fingers on the pile of cards, speaking "Very well, consider this a top priority. I'm going to try reaching out to Yusuke and Kurama in Tourin. I'm sure they would be very interested in this. Especially Kurama, given his past experience with Viorica." As expected. I ask "Should we notify Altamirano and Vijaya to standby, or do you…?" He interrupts as expected "Tell them to stay away and monitor. I don't want them getting physically involved. Viorica will make a meal out of them. And if she manages to use her psychic powers on Rudy and Vijaya, it can be a disaster." Good, good.

I speak "Understood, I will notify them of your instructions, Prince Koenma." "Good, see you do that," he replies with a groan as he attempts to restore the foundations of his pyramid. I rise to my feet, bow, and turn, approaching the exit out of his office.

Stepping into the sterile Spirit World cafeteria, I scan the tables…there…there he is, seated alone, facing the vast jagged mountainous scenic view of our chunk of the liberated zone of demon world. Brown hair, bowl-style haircut. Sempronius Densus, one of the older members of the Spirit Defense Force, and one of the most famous of us. A Roman who died as one of the few Praetorian guard members that did not turn against their Roman emperors…was it Galba? I think so. King Yama really got impressed with his one against a thousand last stand and his somewhat hidden spirit energy, and made him one of the earlier SDF members. A lot more wild than my origin story, being a random grunt trying to defend my Korean homeland against the Toyotomis and their invading samurais. Jinju castle. Killed like forty of them before a bullet got me in the throat. Was really annoying how Japanese, Sanskrit, Nahuatl, and English were the preferred languages here at the time and everyone called me Shun-Jun instead of Shin-Jung. And they still do. Even though basically everyone here but the grunt-work ogres are fluent in all the major languages.

I walk toward the cafeteria, massive and staffed by hundreds of ogre slaves that are all apparently too chickenshit to poison us all. Grabbing a beige tray from the start of the counter, I tap my fingers a few times against my tray, and the ogres in line all panic and step aside so I can go in front. One of them pathetically speaks in Japanese "My dearest apologies Shun-Jun." I ignore him and approach the female ogre 'lunch lady.' She adjusts her thick glasses and asks in Japanese "So what will it be? Human or demon? Which continent, which culture?" I pause for a bit, and then I speak in my preferred Korean "Human. Central Asian and Western Chinese…do you have lagman noodles?" I think she now remembers me, switching to Korean "Heh? Oh, Shun-Jun, yes my apologies…yes we can make them." I speak "Good, I will have one bowl of lagman noodles with beef…and two baked lamb samsas. Western Chinese and Central Asian style, remember." "Of course, I will put in the order and send them out as soon as they are ready." "Good, and I'll have water from the tap."

Approaching Sempronius, in his SDF uniform, who is still staring at the scenic view, with a half-eaten plate of squid-ink risotto and a second glass of white wine, the first one already drunk, I sarcastically ask in Korean "Did the mountains move yet?" Sempronius turns his head slightly and answers in Korean with I guess a bit of a Latin accent "Always find it funny. As spirits with extra perks, we don't need to eat, so they feed us anyway for our pleasure. Yet we still have to roll-up our sleeves and get our hands dirty. Some Elysium we have, heh? Even our fields look like angry mountains." I set my plate down to the right of his, and pull a white round chair from an unoccupied table next to us. Placing the chair and sitting down, I watch a faraway bolt of thunder and reach for one of my two samsas.

I take a bite and savor the fatty meat and puff pastry, and then grab a paper container of tomato vinegar chili sauce and use a wooden spoon to coat the insides of the meat pie with the sauce. Taking a second bite and getting a lot of the tomato sauce, I chew, swallow, and wipe my lips with a now red and white napkin. I say "At least the food is good. What wine is that?"

Sempronius finishes swallowing a forkful of risotto, takes a sip from the wine I'm pointing at, and says "A sauvignon, it's alright. They didn't tell me the brand or vintage, I just know it's from Italy. I'd imagine even the best wine becomes alright after drinking it for two thousand years." I slurp a spoonful of lagman noodles and broth, sip from my water, and say "That's why I space it out. A year every decade of going vegetarian, a year every decade with no alcohol. Never ordering the same thing twice in the same month. Getting into a routine is how you get sucked into your own hell. We're here for a long time, you know? Eternity can be a grind." Sempronius frowns and nods, takes a sip of wine, and says "Routines are also comforting. Easy. Sometimes you want to see a century go by in a year. You're only what? Five hundred years dead?" "A bit less," I answer. Guess he is having one of his days again.

I watch him look around and stare a bit at our new recruit to the SDF. South African bounty hunter, one of my assets, until Viorica stabbed him to death. Thabang Nyembe. Collecting on Talterc's bounty really got King Yama impressed, despite the fact that she was nearly dead thanks to Yoko Kurama and blind as shit by the time Thabang caved in her head, thanks to Mirko Karapandža. He's already been put through the basic training and is almost at A-class level. Which makes him pretty useless still in the bigger picture. Also naïve. Very, very naïve. Could be useful for the little things, actually. Even the useless can be useful if given the right role.

I see him playing backgammon with who used to be the newest SDF recruit for a while until things changed, Sergey Matviyenko, a Ruthenian casualty of that war in Afghanistan from twenty-plus years ago. Or are they called Ukrainians now? Not sure. If I remember the story correctly, Sergey obtained hidden psychic powers and dealt with demons back home as a late teen, was drafted to fight in Afghanistan, and was surrounded by human-eating demons that wanted to turn the nearby Soviet morgue and infirmary into a buffet. So he strapped C4 around himself, baited the demons into the morgue, and burnt down and bombed the morgue with himself in it. No medals for him, just a report of a strange accident noted in a Soviet military ledger. Tall man too, with bushy brown hair. I remember him, Sempronius, and old captain Otake confronting Koenma when we were preparing to destroy Yusuke Urameshi's body. I also recall Sempronius being the first to panic and beg for mercy when Yusuke revealed himself as a demon half-breed. Very fucking hilarious looking back, and I think I will bring that up soon to screw with Sempronius again. Just need the right moment.

Old captain Otake. Now wasting away in a prison cell, after his coup attempt and threat to blow up Tokyo over the Kekkai barrier being down. The irony is not lost on anyone here. When Yomi won the second demon world tournament, King Yama quickly reclaimed power from the forever toddler. Operations resumed as usual, all the demons that were visiting as tourists in human world had to get carried back to demon world. Some resisted, and we had to get involved. Us and all the Spirit World detectives in the world. I remember how ugly it got. Six spirit detectives died in the fighting. It's as if Otake got the last laugh in the end. Now King Yama is keeping him in the cell, probably still trying to figure out what to do with him. Even if he would normally side with him, he can't allow a betrayal like that. Something to keep in mind.

Captain Otake. No captains anymore, just a constant pump of new SDF spirits. King Yama wants to bloat our ranks, probably so something like what Otake pulled can't be as easily organized without someone saying something. Still, I've more or less took a leadership role during Otake's hostage crisis failed coup, and held it since. Being the one who killed the Yoko of Yoko Kurama has given me respect over some of the more senior members. And with the flood of new SDFs, I am quickly becoming as senior as Sempronius. Something to keep in mind.

I finish the last of my first samsa and take a deep gulp of Spirit World tap water. Sempronius is basically done with his risotto and is now nursing what's left of his wine. I sigh, grip my spoon, and gently tap the rim of my bowl of lagman…twice...pause…once…pause…and twice again. Our agreed upon signal to speak of things that should be spoken quietly. Sempronius does the same with his wine glass, using his right index finger. I speak quietly in classical Latin, a language that not many of us speak "'Ramagupta is behaving as expected. 'Phoenix' and 'Maleperduis' are going to be sent to deal with the 'Daughter of the Maniae'." Sempronius casually brings his glass of wine closer and takes a sip, nodding. He speaks in Latin "Good. Good. Has 'Ibong Adarna' made the necessary arrangements? What of 'Gada'? Will she interfere?" I finish chewing my bite of the second samsa, swallow it down with tap water, and speak "Everything is in place. 'Gada' will be taken care of. She shouldn't get the chance to get in the way. If anything, she will be too late."

Staring at the sake section of the liquor store on Kapok street in lower Mandaluyong, I keep my hands in my jean pockets and pretend I am still browsing, my left hand feeling my iPod in my pocket. Headphones connecting from my pocketed iPod to my ears, nothing playing yet. After. My orange and yellow lotus patterned leisure shirt is half untucked from my brown belt wrapped jeans. To make it easier to draw the Beretta 92 pistol from my holster. I remove my right hand to adjust my sunglasses to my forehead, kneeling down to look at the lower shelves, or pretending to at least. I pretend to nod and I put my sunglasses back down on my nose.

Sake, one of the few remaining reminders I have of Saitama. When I was just seventeen and had shorter hair. Hear the door open, the bell chime, I steal a look toward it. There he is, arriving second. The Gujarati, Rafiq Daud, slightly shorter than me, around my age, with a trimmed moustache and chin beard, the moustache a bit thicker than the beard. Short black hair, a gold chain, fair skin tone, thick bushy black eyebrows. Wearing a grey generic trucker cap, cheap white-framed plastic sunglasses, a black collared shirt, and blue jeans. "Hello, let me know if I can help you with anything!" the store owner shouts in Tagalog from the checkout, on the far side away from the entrance. Short black hair, olive green t-shirt, stainless steel watch. Ramon Garcia, his new name. Used to be Martin del Rosario. Until shortly after 1995. Around the time he 'retired' from police work. After the May 1995 Quezon City rubout. Funny, I started using a new name about a year earlier. Rafiq just nods and turns toward the brandy section, hands also in his pockets.

Me and Daud, and del Rosario and this civilian who is finally now exiting the store with her bottle of red wine. Me and Daud. Two down, one to go. I'm not much for talking. He can do the rest. He likes to talk.

Any day now…finally, door opens…yes, it's him. Cesar Contreras. Or as I know him by his original name, Kazemaru. Older than me, a fellow Japanese, tall, in his 40s, with a bald head and a pointed chin, wearing expensive thin framed sunglasses, dressed in a charcoal pinstriped suit and red tie with a white undershirt, as if he just stepped out for the day from an investment banking job in Makati. I remember when he used to have a Buddhist swastika tattooed on his forehead. He shortly later had it removed when he left his strange ninja clan and brought us here as freelancers. Rather difficult to remain inconspicuous with a swastika on your forehead, no matter what part of the planet you're standing on.

Del Rosario speaks "Hello, let me know if I can help, if there is anything you need." Kazemaru pauses, and looks like he is acting like he is thinking, holding his chin with his right hand. He snaps his fingers once and says in Tagalog with a thick Japanese accent "How do I say it…I'm looking for something that says 'I'm sorry for screwing up' without coming off as either too cheap or too desperate. This is for a client, mind you, not some lady I'm seeing on the side." Del Rosario laughs and says "Ha, mind if I ask what you do? Let me guess…stockbroker? How's the steak in Makati?" Kazemaru shakes his head a bit and says "The place I last went to, they fucked up my order. I asked for a rare and got it well done. But ehhh, it's complicated to describe, but I do settle accounts for people with piso to spare. I'm thinking something…mid-range maybe? He's a pinoy, bigshot too, but not the kind to like something that high up there. Like, maybe a touch over mid-range. He likes a good rum."

Del Rosario snaps his fingers and says "Ah, perfect, I got the right bottle for you. We got our Tanduays, sure, but I'll bet that your client will be impressed by a Zafra 21. Panamanian rum and just the right amount of sweetness. Very smooth, bit smoky, almost like a scotch. You can grab a bottle right over there in that section, top shelf. White label with the blue cap." I turn and see Kazemaru nod a bit and say "Sounds good, I think you made a sale." He smiles and approaches del Rosario with his right arm raised, and I lift my shirt slightly to get ready to grab my pistol.

Del Rosario smiles awkwardly and extends his arm, saying "Uh, okay, good to hear…" Kazemaru grabs his right hand and starts shaking it, while I draw my pistol and see that Rafiq has done the same. Del Rosario's face suddenly changes, and I yell in English "Move a muscle and I will shoot you in the gut and watch you bleed out! R! Secure the door!" Kazemaru jerks his arm back a bit, pulling del Rosario's arm with him over the counter, and shouts in Japanese-accented English "S! Check under the counter!" As Rafiq runs to lock the door and pull down the curtains, I keep my gun drawn on del Rosario and gradually move around the counter. His left hand is on the counter, shaking. Rafiq yells in Indian-accented English "C! S! It's done!" as I close in on the sawed-off under the counter. Grabbing the double barrel and keeping it aimed away from me, I pull it away before del Rosario can act on what he's probably thinking about. Del Rosario says in English with a Filipino accent "Easy, wait. Relax…if you want the money in the cash register, go ahead. It's yours."

I check to make sure the safety is still on, yes, and I drop it on the ground and kick it away, making it slide several meters toward the sake section. Del Rosario continues "The money is yours, just let me get out of your way." Rafiq collects the sawed-off with his free left hand and stands to Kazemaru's left side, while I circle around to the front of the counter and to the right of Kazemaru, my aim never wavering. Kazemaru, still not letting go of the handshake, speaks "Money is related to why we are here, but we are a bit more interested than some piso from the register. Your name is Ramon Garcia, right?"

Del Rosario's eyes start darting to me, Rafiq, and Kazemaru, and the exit. He says "D-don't do anything stupid. There is a hidden camera here, connects to private security. They've already sent someone on the way." I know, I disabled the camera ten minutes ago, with a rusty nail I picked up along the way. One quick toss and it was made useless without del Rosario knowing it. He even thought it was rat, or at least shouted out asking if it was one. Kazemaru points with his left hand at the 'hidden' camera, saying "Oh we know about it, and we took care of it quietly. They probably going to get around to calling you in a few minutes asking if there is something wrong on your end. Then after you don't pick up, they will send someone over to check on the place, eventually. After they go take a piss, have a smoke break, maybe talk to their coworkers about the Beermen or the next Pacquiao fight. I'd say that gives us a solid hour at least. And you didn't answer my question. Are you Ramon Garcia?"

Del Rosario's breathing gets more heavy, and he's sweating from his forehead. He speaks "Look, I don't understand. I'm just a nobody. You want money, go into the register…" Kazemaru gives a death stare and cuts him off "Yes or no question. Very easy. Are you Ramon Garcia?" Del Rosario grimaces and mumbles "N-no. No, I don't know who that person is." Kazemaru nods and says "You're right. That's because you are Martin del Rosario." As if the blood in his veins froze, the look del Rosario is giving us. Still like a statue, as if time has stopped. He nervously says "I don't know who that is either."

Kazemaru nods and says "Okay. Okay. Lift your shirt up…slowly…with your left hand." Del Rosario just stares at Kazemaru, saying "Why?" As if he called Kazemaru stupid, my fellow Japanese says "If you are not Martin del Rosario, then why are you arguing here? Two guys have guns drawn on you, and all we want is for you to lift your shirt up. We're not here to gangrape you if that's what you're worried about…I don't swing that way and I don't think my friends here do either." Kazemaru laughs a bit at the end, as if saying that was a bit ridiculous.

Del Rosario, his breathing the only thing that's showing his nervousness, as if he is trying to disarm a mine that he just stepped on, slowly lifts his shirt up with his left hand. Halfway up. Kazemaru says "Higher, up to the pecs." Del Rosario exhales and finally does so, revealing the tattoo. The Virgin Mary cradling Christ's body, brushing away his crown of thorns. Yep, it's him. The artwork looks expensive. Kazemaru nods, satisfied, and says "Lying ain't a very Christian thing to do, no?"

Letting go of his shirt, del Rosario says "Who are you and what do you want from me? You with Sputnik?" Kazemaru laughs and says "Do you see us covered in tattoos? Do we look like Tondo trash playing at mafia? Think about 95. May. Quezon. Is the picture coming together?" The realization coming to him, del Rosario says "Listen. I have a safe in the back. Around 100,000 piso. Let me go, it's yours. Let me take you to an ATM nearby. Another 700,000 piso. Cash. Everyone likes cash." He smiles at the end, as if trying to convince himself it's going to work.

Kazemaru laughs and says "ATM, huh? I'll let my boss know, he'll have a good laugh." "It is a lot of money. Think about it. I can disappear, I did so before. I'm good at it." "And you are good at reappearing too, it seems." "Please, man, what does this accomplish? Another body to the pile? It's not necessary, it's pretty pointless." Kazemaru gives me a look as if he is annoyed by del Rosario's attempts at avoiding the inevitable, and then says "I think you got me confused for someone that gives a fuck. We're just hired help, for our friends from Ozamiz. Hell, we aren't even from here. Say, are you a local? From Metro Manila proper?" He needs to stop playing with his food.

Del Rosario anxiously smiles and nods slowly, saying "Y-yes. Y-yes I am." Kazemaru tilts his head a bit to the left and says "Really? How far back? To the Spanish times?" "Y-yes. Through the Spanish and American imperialism and the big wars and the Japanese. We…we suffered heavily when they destroyed the city. The Japanese I mean." Is he fishing for pity? Worth a shot, I guess. Kazemaru smirks and says "Huh, funny. That's us, well, him and me." He nudges his right shoulder at me. "What?" del Rosario asks, now adding confusion to his nervousness and likely fear that he is about to die.

Kazemaru replies, gripping his hand tightly "Japanese. Some of my family fought here during the war. Oh, the stories I heard. Most of the older generation back in the old country don't like talking about it, but wow did I hear some stories from my kin. Maybe they knew you del Rosarios. Maybe they raped your women, cut off their breasts, threw their babies into the fires." He shakes del Rosario's hand and nods at me, and I pull the trigger. *BANG* *BANG* My first shot strikes him in the left side of the neck, and Rafiq's first shot hits del Rosario's right side of his neck. *BANG* *BANG* My second shot gets del Rosario close to the heart, in the left lung, Rafiq's second shot gets him center mass. Del Rosario's legs give way and he falls down, his right hand still being shaken by Kazemaru. With his free left hand, del Rosario tries to cover the gushing blood from the left side of his neck, then the right side. His left arm goes limp and I watch the life exit his eyes. Kazemaru finally lets go of del Rosario's right arm and lets it slump to the floor.

Rafiq asks "Do you think we have enough time for the safe?" Seriously?! I speak "Of course not." Kazemaru quickly walks up to the rum section and grabs two bottles of Zafra 21 off the top shelf, shouting "Grab anything for the road but do it fast." He wasn't always like this, Kazemaru. Living here for more than a decade, in this line of work, changed him as much as me. It's as if he sees everything as a running gag. In a vacuum, and setting aside all obligations from our line of work, life and death now have as much distinction to him as what he decides for dinner.

Rafiq, now without the sawed-off, grabs a bottle of Remy Martin VSOP, and I ignore the petty larceny and hurry toward the door, speaking "Police here any minute now. I suggest you hurry up." I reach for my iPod, max out the volume, and quickly turn on my playlist. First song. 'Everybody Wants to Rule the World' by Tears for Fears. I fast-forward the song for a few seconds, then stop. "Welcome to your life. There's no turning back." I sigh and kick the door open, Kazemaru and Rafiq behind me. Sky is a shade of orange with some clouds mixed in, sunset. "Even while we sleep…" There is a small scared and confused crowd in between us and our motorcycles. "We will find you..." I fire a shot in the air and scare them all off, causing a man to tip over his motorized tricycle. I make a run for my red Honda 250 Rebel motorcycle. "Acting on your best behavior. Turn your back on Mother Nature. Everybody wants to rule the world." Going to have to change the paint and the license plate later tonight. Maybe blue? I kick in my kickstand, turn on my motorcycle, turn off the kill switch, and speed off. Kazemaru and Rafiq can handle themselves. I don't need to lag behind.

I slow down a bit and turn right onto Makaturing. Just need to get onto the highway, then off to Quezon. Cutting in between a motorized tricycle and a parked sedan. "It's my own design." A yellow shack attached to a tall beige apartment building, on the left. Selling bubble tea. "It's my own remorse." Turning left onto Dansalan, going the wrong way and into honking traffic. Someone yells in Filipino-accented English "You stupid fuck!" "Help me to decideeee." A café on the right, a 7-Eleven on the left. Almost at Boni. "Help me make the, most of freedom, and of pleasure. Nothing ever lasts forever. Everybody wants to rule the world."

I turn right onto Boni, almost colliding with a black Honda sedan. The driver extends his left arm out the window and then gestures that I am crazy, twirling his left index finger around in a circle, by the left side of his head. I press on, on the left lane, a short street divider made taller with small trees growing from it…damn, a crossing guard. "So glad we've almost made it." He's letting the side traffic pass first. So close. Hear sirens in the background, don't see the police. "So sad they had to fade it." Yet. I use this chance to push my headphones in as tight as I can before the EDSA. I see the green signs. No, not going to Makati. The EDSA Boni tunnel. Finally, I get the go ahead. I speed ahead, a blue jeepney on my right carrying passengers. A little girl in the back being hand fed pieces of bananas by whom I'm assuming is her mom. Her mom breaks off another piece, almost halfway done with the fruit. "Everybody wants to rule the world."

Entering the Boni tunnel…the paint needs a new coat. Maybe blue would work. I got a new coat of paint too. New name. Longer hair. New language, new culture. New city. New nightmares to chew on. To think that it's been fifteen years. Since I joined Sensui out of nihilistic indifference. Since I fought Yusuke Urameshi. Since I sat on that log in the forest with Kamiya, wondering what the fuck happened. Since I found my sister under the bridge by the Shiba river, back in Saitama, with the stray kitten that was shot to death with crossbow bolts by a few asshole classmates. A few months of high school remained. I graduated, with no prospects and no talents aside from those given to me by whatever God or Goddess or whatever created us and made things the way they are. I used to have a name, like Martin del Rosario. It was Kaname Hagiri. After high school, coming across Kazemaru. His line of work. Us both having once fought Yusuke Urameshi.

Now I'm Vincent Gatdula. This is what came of my life. A contract killer, now on retainer for the underground remnants of the Kuratong Baleleng. The Filipino mafia. And my nickname still remains. Sniper. One of the few things to remember Saitama. Finally exiting the tunnel, I speed up faster. Almost…can't make a U-turn yet…there. I hug the left curb, slow down my motorcycle, and do a sneaky cut through a gap in the divider, getting honked at by a passing truck. Speeding up, I move toward the right lane and toward the ramp. "I can't stand this indecision. Married with a lack of vision. Everybody wants to rule the—say that you'll never, never, never, never need it." I get onto the ramp, going west on Pioneer. Almost at the EDSA, passing a large corporate style building on the right. A China Bank on the first floor. "One headline, why believe it?" I zip around a yellow jeepney, passing the skyscrapers on the right. They've been building more and more of them. Like we are going to be Tokyo one day, and this will be just another ward. "Everybody wants to rule the world."

Almost at the EDSA. I look left and see the Robinsons Place Pioneer mall. Huge place, they opened it less than three years ago. I can't believe how much the city grew since 1994. When I got here. Despite all the chaos, all the corruption, political bullshit, fucking never-ending war with the Muslims in the south, this place keeps growing. "All for freedom and for pleasure. Nothing ever lasts forever. Everybody wants to rule the world." Finally able to turn right onto the EDSA. My safehouse in Quezon awaits. Should call over Bianca for company. Tell her to bring takeout, help establish my alibi. Lebanese would be nice, have her get some kebabs, some pita and hummus. Should I get the lamb or chicken?

"Hold formation! Keep the pressure, reinforce the right flank and push!" I shout in English, thrusting at stag demons with my bastard sword alongside Yusuke and my contingent of forces, in the tunnels of the Aizbadin marble quarry and camp. We've already pushed through two chambers of the caverns, the stag demons offering unusually fierce resistance. We're taking more of them dead than alive, partially due to Chu entering the tunnel originally with insufficient warriors and having to compensate. Not ideal, but several of Sidura's 'companions' have been liberated and recovered, one found dead. So far.

I spot Chu, dressed in his usual attire and armed with two large combat knives, charging the right flank with three spear wielding Anakim ogres and a Rakshasi armed with a sword and shield. Yusuke dodges a spear trust and strikes a stag demon with an uppercut, launching the Aizbadin clear over the battlelines. The right flank collapses in our favor and the Aizbadins scatter and retreat further into the cavern tunnels, stampeding over their fallen. I shout "Strike them down up to the smaller tunnel entrances and then stop! Do not charge further alone!" Happens quite often, both back in my time in Medieval Europe and when I ruled Gandara as Bandit King Yoko. Overeager idiots excited for easy kills and spoils overextend themselves, get separated, and then find themselves struck down by several of their no-longer retreating prey, or by an archer waiting in ambush.

Three Aizbadins fall during this retreat, the rest flee deeper into the tunnels. I shout "Secure the area! I want those tunnel sections blocked off with spear lines! Take the heavily wounded and the captured and surrendered to the rear, bind the latter's arms quickly!" I spot Chu raiding the stores in the dimly lit cavern and shout "No looting until we eliminate the threat! Any premature looting will be rewarded with no loot and a few lashes!" Yusuke shouts "And someone get me pictures of Spiderman!" Oh hell, I can't stop laughing, I should be angry but that was ridiculous and well-timed. I'm probably the only person laughing aside from Yusuke, while the rest of our forces stare at us two as if we have gone mad.

Chu himself laughs awkwardly and speaks in English "Lashing my bum? Seriously Kurama?" I point with my sword and speak "I am trying to retain a respectable approach here. This is a serious military operation, not a drunken bar fight." "Mate, it's a bunch of desert ratfucks. We've been hardly taking casualties here, keep your jocks untangled. I'm just happy they didn't scurry off like they tend to do." I shout "That's exactly my point! These Aizbadins are acting quite out of the ordinary from what we know, so once again I expect a bold but measured approach! No looting until all is secure!" I myself have been guilty of premature looting, especially in Medieval Europe. Foolish mistakes were made, during the raids against the Ottoman camps in particular.

An ogre shouts in Old Egyptian-accented English "Keep an eye out for paintings of this man of spider! Might be a spider demon!" Oh hell I'm laughing again, forcing myself to shout through my laughter "It was an inside joke, ignore that!" The ogre shouts "Ignore that order about the man of spider!" Yusuke walks up to me while our forces secure the perimeter and deal with the dead, dying, wounded, and surrendered. He wipes grey blood off his knuckles against a wooden barrel and speaks "Guess sarcasm and military stuff don't mix." I reply with some snark "Oh fancy that?" Smirking, I add "Admittedly that was hilarious. Now, I feel that our heel is upon their collective throats. Let's apply the final bit of pressure."

Unsure as to the makeup of these tunnels, I split our primary forces into two, half each to flush out the two far tunnels, a rearguard remaining in this cavern room to guard the remaining tunnels and to serve as reinforcements and to prevent flanking. Yusuke, Jin, and Rinku take Yusuke's detachment through one tunnel, and I take my detachment along with Chu, partially to babysit him so that he doesn't cause unneeded casualties. Slowly pushing through the tunnel with our forces, torchlight kept by three Rakshasa demons serving as our illumination, we pass two dead Aizbadins that appear to have bled out. Chu remarks "My math may be foggy but I feel that we got most of the fuckers. How many deer can stay cramped here?" I reply "Not many, true. In addition to the slaves and hostages…"

An arrow strikes an ogre's spear, cracking it, and I shout "Shields raised! Push!" We press on, entering another large cavern room…with cages. Many cages…what on earth is that?! A pulsating translucent orb in the center of a dead great oak tree, flanked by two statues of this ten-headed demon with twenty-arms, all mustached and posing with tridents, maces, and swords. I vaguely recall having seen such statues in Indian and old Gandaran art. A mass of Aizbadins form battlelines in front of the dead tree, and I see that Yusuke's contingent has broken through and now threatens the Aizbadin right flank.

An Aizbadin in more elaborate gilded robes, lacking a head scarf, and with a trimmed grey beard and large antlers, shouts into the orb in a language I am not familiar with, Sanskrit I believe. A voice answers back…a familiar voice. Could it be? I shout in English "Drop your weapons and we will accept your surrender! While I came here to avoid a massacre, I can easily have it so!" I watch Sidura, Kokou's nephew, naked and in a cage, shout in Arabic-accented English "Finally! A boon will be granted by the first to shatter my chains! I, Sidura, your Lord, the God of Dicks, demand your service!"

Sudden silence amongst everyone at Sidura's idiotic outburst. I was told many times that he was eccentric and unusual. More chatter from the orb, in presumed Sanskrit, and the elderly stag demon shouts back in kind. He turns toward us and shouts "Who there that demands surrender from us?!" I shout "The former Bandit King of Gandara, Yoko Kurama!" The elderly stag demon motions for his warriors to halt, or at least to not lunge out and strike upon us. He replies "On whose authority does Yoko Kurama demand our surrender?" I reach with my left hand into a pocket in my vest and remove Kokou's seal of Arrapka, raising it high. I reply "By authority of Kokou, Queen of Tourin, Satrap of Zagroush, the warlord of Arrapka, wife of the Tourin King of Kings Enki." The elderly stag demon shouts "And aunt of the idiot we have in that cell, yes?!" Sidura shouts "Idiot?! I will smite you with my almighty cocks!" I suddenly realize that this imbecile in the cage has two erect tiger-demon pricks conjoined at the base, and he is aiming them at the battlelines as if they are Yusuke's spirit gun. I have seen much in my near-millennium of existence, but this is ridiculous even by Tourin standards.

We all do the sensible action and ignore Sidura as I speak "Indeed. She is seeking the return of Sidura and his companions. Whom do I have the pleasure of parleying with?" The stag demon speaks "Tazius, brother of Zirakeh clan leader Falakius. I would rather…" More chatter in Sanskrit…and suddenly the orb dims. Tazius sighs and speaks "I would rather avoid a massacre as well, and I am willing to listen to terms. Do you have authority to negotiate on Kokou's behalf?" She did not quite grant me such authority but…to hell with this. I hide my grimace and speak "Indeed. What is the nature of that orb? Are you in communication with…" "Do I have assurances that we will not be sold into slavery?" I hear Jin shout "Oi, like you didn't do with our people?"

I raise my left hand at Jin's direction to motion him to quiet down. Yusuke notices my gesture and reiterates…I can read his lips mutter "Jin, not now." I turn back to Tazius and think…this is my chance to secure a surrender without more bloodshed, but Kokou expects retribution and recompense for this insult. I speak "We have identified hostages amongst the casualties. We have also incurred casualties on our own end. Not even touching upon the abduction of Sidura, a member of the Tourin royal family." Tazius speaks "As the former king of Gandara, you know full well that such death is inescapable from such military engagements. As for the abduction, it's irrelevant. I will not bother justifying it on the basis of Sidura encroaching on our territory…" Sidura shouts "Encroaching? All domains are free in the face of a God!" I groan and speak "Sidura, nephew of Kokou, please be quiet." "How dare you!" This idiot, unbelievable. I speak "I have Kokou's authority to act upon her behalf. Please do not test my creativity." Sidura points his two-pronged prick through the cage bars and shouts "You insult me! I demand exaltation immediately!"

Chu laughs to himself as Yusuke shouts "Sidura, that's you with the double dick right?! Can you do us all a favor and shut the fuck up?! Our job is to bring you back home in one piece! Whatever happens latter, well…" Sidura rattles the cage bars and shouts "For days I have been caged, fed fine wine and roasted meats, and not once have any of these stag demons offered to suck my godly cocks!" At this instance I would imagine that Tazius is hoping that I would offer to kill Sidura, and I am rather tempted myself. I coldly speak "Sidura, as the former Bandit King Yoko Kurama, I implore you to silence yourself before I accidentally castrate you with my sword. Roots and stem…stems…alike." At that, the idiot finally quiets himself and retreats into his cage, where he probably belongs, for the sanity of all around him. I'm rather impressed by the warriors that Kokou provided us with. Rather well disciplined despite Chu's and Sidura's best attempts to devolve this into a farce.

Turning my attention back to Tazius, I speak "Now with that settled…Kokou expects an answer for this, and the prior raids." Tazius responds "Again, do we have assurances that we are not made into slaves? I will not have our people waste away repairing Arrapka's walls and whichever grand projects Kokou and Enki have in mind. Yes, I know, we are slavers ourselves…I would appreciate if all moral grandstanding will become set aside and that we may speak pragmatically as demons." Easy enough. This is clearly a demon with whom I can speak terms easily, and without unnecessary emotion. I speak "Absolutely. I trust you are familiar with my legacy." Tazius smirks and replies "How could anyone not? So, that is our terms. Not a single one of us still breathing becomes a slave, whether that form of slavery entails swinging pickaxes or spreading our legs. Otherwise, we will rather die to the last. Any of my warriors that wish to devolve in Kokou's property, you may leave our battlelines and do so, and may Tengri have pity on your pathetic souls."

Very well. I can work with this. I ponder to myself, as the many stare in my direction. More information is required. Right now the orb catches more of my interest, but this must be resolved first. I holster my sword as a gesture of goodwill and ask "Tazius, your people normally flee at the sign of an invading army. Why remain to defend this…orb?" "Once I have your assurances that we will not be made into slaves, I will answer all questions you may have." "Very well, well…we will require a full disarmament, and reparations for this and prior raids. Property forfeiture…the nearest fortress…Thiraz to the north, we will take you there while we…" "If you are proposing that we follow you to the gallows or have our arms removed…" "No, no such thing. You have my word that you will remain protected. Are you the commander of this camp, Tazius?" "No, that would be Falakius' wife, Amaga."

One of the Rakshasi in Yusuke's detachment…the mounted woman with the crossbow from before, now on foot, she shouts from the crowd in Arabic-accented Japanese "Kurama, that's the woman I shot dead through the eye. The one that killed one of the five, the five that surrendered, well, the four that surrendered and the…" I reply in Japanese "I understand now, thank you." Tazius raises an eyebrow and suddenly his battlelines murmur in presumed Arabic.

A sword-wielding man turns and speaks to Tazius, who nods and turns to me, speaking "So Amaga is dead. That makes me acting commander, and with her dead I can speak more freely. Good, very good. Very well, this was Falakius' intention, and while he may be blood, I venomously disagreed with this idiocy. I propose the following then. Allow us, the survivors, to resettle within Tourin's heartland, away from the Alaric border. We will offer our swords to Enki and Kokou, as auxiliary forces. I will even kneel at their feet and swear fealty if they care for such charades. My terms are such, not a hair is harmed on the survivors, not a patch of flesh or a piece of bone is removed, no imprisonment, we receive our own quarters in Thiraz, obviously under your guard, and we will not be made into slaves. We request settlement to the west, in land favorable for steeds and subsistence farming. If we have your word, we will forfeit all our property, including our steeds, as reparations for the prior raids. We will serve as auxiliary warriors and scouts in their armies, to be deployed as our new lords and ladies see fit. Furthermore, we will refrain from further raids, and will provide information concerning Falakius and the rest of the clan, and their new allies. My terms, conditional as they are, are fair and reasonable. What is your answer, Yoko, former Bandit King of Gandara?"

I pause briefly, and answer "I accept your terms of surrender, on the condition that your warriors drop their weapons immediately." Tazius stares at me with a surveying glare, and I add "If you were concerned about my trustworthiness, why bother responding to my request for surrender originally?" Tazius smirks, turns to his warriors, and then nods, motioning them all to drop their weapons. Half of the stag demons do immediately…and now the rest follow suit, slowly. Tazius himself motions for his warriors to give way to allow him to pass, and I approach to meet him.

Yusuke darts a worried glance, and I nod at him to reassure. Tazius himself speaks "Should I kneel before you?" I shake my head and reply "I generally do not care for such charades." Though they do serve a psychological function. Tazius nods and speaks "Good. Good." After a pause, he adds "I was in communications with the Rakshasas from beyond the Seliyan." So I was right. I ask "Supaku? Mareecha?" "Supaku. A tiger demon, no different than the ones in your forces, approached us roughly a month prior. Not Supaku, just a messenger, just to clarify. The messenger offered part of the southern portion of Tourin to us if we allied with them, for the invasion to come. Falakius and Amaga agreed, and we were directed to this quarry, hidden for centuries, perhaps millennia. Supaku's remaining spies directed us to capture Sidura. Supaku insisted that we kill him, but Falakius wished to ransom him instead. Personally, if I were to weaken Kokou, I would have returned Sidura back to her unharmed and encouraged her to give him some position of power."

I laugh at the last remark, along with Chu, Yusuke, Jin, and Rinku, the rest of our warriors keeping their mouths sealed, likely out of self-preservation. I ask "Any hopes of contacting Supaku's spies, the ones still in Tourin?" Tazius shakes his head and replies "Supaku's last message, just earlier before he ended his communications, was that we either leave these tunnels with your heads severed or not at all. This is the idiocy of Falakius' decision. We were doomed for extermination either way once he agreed to ally with those beyond the Seliyan. I can speak of much more once we are in more comfortable quarters."

What was mere hours prior feels akin to days, since the battle over the Aizbadin quarry and the stags' ultimate capitulation. The surrendered joined the captured and wounded at castle Thiraz to the north, along with that idiot Sidura and his 'friends'. Riders have been dispatched to Kokou in Arrapka and to Shu in Gassuhr, to notify the powers that be that they have over a hundred stag demons and a two-pronged fool to collect. I allowed those to accompany the captured to have the prime pick of the loot, as thanks for agreeing to continue on to Thiraz. A militarized castle town, and the capital of the Diomedians, the horse demons of the Odrysi Satrapy. An austere Greek-speaking culture that swears off alcohol and entertainment. I pity those accompanying Sidura. Between the dull Diomedians, the surroundings, and the walking pitchfork's inane commentary, injury will be caused to someone's body if not someone's spirit.

Instead, I am lounging on a Rakshasa-styled rug in Wayna, the capital of the Kollazuyu Confederation, with Yusuke, Jin, Chu, Rinku, and two-thirds of the forces remaining from our battle, the ones that did not require significant medical attention at the least. All of our clothes have been washed and repaired, and I was able to convince the local Muki chieftain, with promises of relaying her hospitality to Kokou, for us to 'borrow' several rooms across multiple floors of their palace, for our victory celebration. Most of the third floor has been granted to us, so long as we do not leave a trail of destruction. Wayna itself is quite more tolerable, despite its southern location, as the mountainous geography creates a cooling draft. And the food and alcohol is much more palatable.

Us currently situated on the third floor in the rear of the palace, a sprawling ballroom of sorts with large opened windows, red painted walls, a beige painted ceiling, the designs similar to a Shinto monastery with a heavier reliance on brick, paint, and thick wooden columns, I extend my right hand forward and clutch a handful of large salted 'corn' kernels, a taste more akin to cold French fries with a thicker skin. Carefully dropping the kernels into my mouth, I watch as Chu, already slightly drunk, wins another arm wrestling competition, this time with a female Muki demon that traded her armor for more comfortable beige and red diamond patterned robes. The Anakim ogres and Rakshasa tiger demons that failed to bring civilian clothes along have also been given local Muki patterned robes to wear.

Yusuke and Jin have departed to see about procuring more alcohol and possibly some live music for the day. I was quite disappointed to learn that the Muki do not have television access, like Spirit World and Arrapka, and so I cannot watch the Swallows or the Dodgers baseball games. It was unlikely but worth a shot to ask, oh well. The crowd swells around Chu and his open challenge, and I see Rinku joining as well. Preliminary entertainment as this celebration prepares to commence. It has been some time since I enjoyed such an occasion, since I ruled Gandara as Yoko. This is…practically nostalgic. I rise from my rug and seek out a pitcher of Muki brandy.

I always wanted to be a cop just like my dad. He would borrow a patrol boat from his bantay dagat friends. Volunteer coast guard patrol. He would take me along with his friends from the police station. With his partner Marlon Carvajal, now my partner, now currently on paid leave. I remember watching them all drink beer, fish, and launch cheap fireworks while I would play Super Mario Bros on my Game Boy.

Seems simple enough to pilot this boat, even with it being dark and us reliant on the front lights. Jose Gatchalian and Amado Brillantes were able to 'borrow' a boat from the bantay dagat, using me and my father's name. They did not bring beer. No fishing rods, no cheap fireworks. I glance behind and see the sprawling view of Manila Bay at night, as we move further and further west, almost halfway to Bataan. A hand grabs my left shoulder and I jerk and look left, finding Gatchalian, a steel flask in his left hand. Tall, clean-shaven, with slightly short black hair, faded on the sides, a scar just below his lip. Still dressed in his officer blues, like me and Brillantes, all three of us leaving our hats behind. He speaks in Tagalog "Artie-boy, how's the boat handling?" He reeks of brandy.

I reply "Err…fine…steering seems…fine. I must admit I have no idea what I am doing." I smell cigarette smoke, and notice Brillantes with a cigarette in his mouth, at the front of the patrol boat. Bow? Is it called the bow? Gatchalian violently pats me on the back and speaks "Ah it's like a fucking kids game, heh? Just keep going straight for a bit more, we in the middle of fucking nowhere, not like there's shit for you to collide with." He points at a screen on the 'dashboard' and speaks "Just use that sonar shit or something." I have no idea what that screen is for, but I do not think that is sonar.

Gatchalian drinks from his flask as Brillantes exhales smoke and speaks "So, we heard about that John and Marsha you been working on." John and…?! I speak "Brillantes, a woman was brutally hacked to death by her lunatic husband, I don't think it's appropriate to…" Argh! I feel Gatchalian grab a fistful of my hair, hear him shout in my ear "You hear this prick Amado?! He still can't call people by first names! Asshole we ain't in law school, cut it out with the formal shit!" I shout "Alright! Alright Joey! Can you let go of me already?!" He finally does, and I rub my head with my left hand.

Brillantes…Amado, Amado laughs at the display and speaks "Hey Artie, I gotta say. When I heard the story about how you stormed in and demanded a job interview like the day after graduation from college, with your fancy diploma, that was pretty funny. Like your old man forgot to tell you that training was a thing. How did you even pass the physicals?" I sigh and speak "I may be small but I am not unathletic. I ran a good time for the timed race." "Surprised you didn't try out for the academy, go for the inspector route. Four more years too much for you? You passed the detective exam like on your first try, right?" "I had loan payments to make, still do. With my dad gone, I could not expect to burden my mom anymore. And yes, first try." Amado nods at me and knocks ash overboard, speaking "It's rough what happened. I heard how those assholes ambushed him in Binondo. I get it. I signed up for this life for the paycheck and the pension, and I guess the extra stuff along the way. Sometimes we get extra stuff we don't ask for."

Gatchalian…Joey, Joey laughs and speaks "Ha, the extra stuff. I joined up so I could throw uppity chinks and meth heads off rooftops and through glass windows. Then they stick me in the sex crimes desk up in Caloocan, and it's like it's fucking Christmas. Like a nonstop conveyer belt of future Bilibid queens and fruitcakes wanting their dicks sucked by boys that hadn't had their balls drop yet. Ya think some broad getting hacked up by a Tondo nut is something? You ain't in the undercard anymore, kid. It's a sick fucking city, I tell ya. Hey Amado, tell him about the chink fruitcake lawyer from Singapore that's getting a deep tissue in holding. Artie, ya probably caught a glimpse of the fag getting his nuts liquified."

I hide my disgust to the best of my abilities and speak "Do you think that was rather excessive? I mean, you were working the men in holding into a frenzy." Joey gives me a look to suggest I am an idiot, and replies "Excessive?! Ya want to see the blockbuster movie the sick fuck took on his phone?! I had to see some kid suck that piece of fuck's chopstick. I tell ya, that kind of stuff fucks with one's sleep, and ya always need to get your seven hours in. A little advice." Amado exhales and knocks a large chunk of ash overboard, speaking "I'll tell him later, after we take care of what we're here for." What we are here for. I was able to shut out his muffled cries and groans before, but no longer.

Setting his flask aside, Joey walks up to the bound and gagged twenty-something year old Chinese-looking man that he and Amado collected an hour prior, while I kept their car running. A guy named Tony, a petty drug dealer from Tondo. His arms and legs tied behind his back with zip tie. Joey pulls the rag out of Tony's mouth and yanks him toward the bow of the boat by Tony's long ponytail. Tony shouts in Tagalog "Please guys, ow stop! Please, don't need to do this! Is this kotong?! A shakedown?! I know the way it goes, I got money, I'll pay, I'll pay!" Amado laughs and tosses the remnant of his cigarette overboard, shouting "You hear that Joey?! He thinks it's a shakedown!"

Tony, a shabu pill peddler from Tondo. Sold meth pills to Marlon Carvajal's nephew, Wilfred. What followed was…is…difficult to repeat. Tony shouts "What the shit, the hell did I do?! Why the fuck you wasting your time with me?!" Visible fear in his eyes, and the fear grows as Amado and Joey each retrieve a tire iron from a red toolbox from the right of the boat. Tony shouts "Guys what the fuck?!" Joey walks over to Tony, pointing the tire iron at him and shouts "What did you do?! You hear this chinkfuck?! Sixteen year old kid, with the pimples and shit, you sold him shabu pills last week!"

Tony squirms and shouts "Fuck you talking about?! I sold a lot of people shit! Do I look like I take ID?! ARGH!" Joey kicks Tony in his right ribs, shouting back "He was the brother's son of one of ours! Poor kid was being stupid and you fed him the nasty poison you fuck! He stabbed his mom to death with a kitchen knife! He bit the head off his pet kitty and then cut his own neck so deep he almost decapitated himself! Sixteen years old you fuck!" Tony's eyes now glare widely in horror, and he shouts "Wait, that shit was him?! Oh Jesus wait, no, no, no, I promise that wasn't me! Yea I sold him shabu but it's not the kind that makes people freak out like that! Look take it easy guys, it couldn't be me! ARGH!"

Another kick to the ribs, followed by a strike against his left knee with the tire iron, causing Tony to cry out in pain. I…I can't stand to listen to this. I scramble to turn on the radio…static, static, the sounds of Tony getting beaten by Amado and Joey, more static, music finally. Song just started, 'Kaliwete' by Eraserheads. "Noong…nagsama tayo (When we were together), ay kaaanan ang ginamit mo (you were using the right hand). Ngunit…biglang natorete (But then suddenly confused), ikaw pala ay kaliwete (you became lefthanded)." Amado shouts "Christ this piece of shit is getting blood on my pants!" He notices the music and turns to me, shouting "Really Artie?! Your dad was the kid's godfather! Marlon's brother is in a psych ward cause of this shitbag!" Tony coughs blood from his increasingly mangled face and speaks "Mercy…please…" The two ignore him and continue to beat upon him with the tire irons and their fury.

"Niyaya niya kami, sa kubeta (She led us into the stall), mata ay lumuwa, sa nakita (Eyes popped out at the sight)!" A strike from Joey and Tony's left eyeball bulges out of his socket, as blood and skull fragments spray everywhere. I run out and to the nearest railing of the boat, to the left of the carnage. "Oh, bakit ba ganyan, buhay ng tao (Oh why is it like that, this man's life)?!" I lose my dinner into the dark Manila Bay. "Mag-ingat ka na lang, baka ika'y makarma, oh (Just be careful, maybe you'll get karma, oh)!" I heave again and hear Joey laugh and shout "What's the matter Artie?! Ain't got the stomach for real police work?! Ahaha!"

I always wanted to be a cop. A cop just like my dad.