There were now three assassins after the man who was once a Battousai--only three, but it would be more than enough to cripple even the legendary man-slayer. Kenshin had passed through the flames of the Meiji Revolution with few scars to show for it, but even in times of peace, new challenges and new dangers would await him. Whether their purpose was noble, wicked, or a mixture of both, the three killers each only had one purpose while in Japan, and that was the destruction of the Battousai. Such an unhindered motive would be difficult to overcome alone.

On the other hand, there was another legendary samurai in the area, one who had gone through just as much turmoil and chaos as the first. He was known only as Jack, the legendary warrior who dared stand up to the evil of Aku and everything the wicked wizard stood for. He was a strong man, both of body, heart, and mind, and even though he was a stranger in his very own land for the second time in his life, he could not ignore a threat on another man's life, so he ran in search of a person around his age, with a cross-shaped scar on his cheek.

The three killers were masters in a world of chaos, death, and constant change. They were swift, silent, and merciless, like the quasi-human Fumus Adhvanit. They were powerful, patient, infamous, and feared, like Rygar the Red. They were also very clever and thoughtful, attentive to every detail while keeping their own identity a secret, such as the case of the third killer. The three of them would have been able to overthrow either samurai if they had worked together, but in a match of two against three, none could determine the victor.

So Samurai Jack kept running in search of the other man, and Kenshin kept his guard up as he distanced himself from other people. It only seemed natural, therefore, that fate should desire the two swordsmen to meet. The only question… was how.

4: The Two Samurai Meet: An Encounter of the Ages

Jack slowed down and came to a halt as he rested on a large boulder. He had just finished with a thorough search of the last town and found nothing except false leads and dead ends. He was tired of looking and wanted to find somewhere to eat (he hadn't had anything in his stomach for quite a while), but since a man's life was in potential danger, he knew he couldn't rest for long. There was a big nagging sensation in the back of his mind that the unknown stranger was dead already, but he soon figured that if a man was dangerous enough to have that great big man sent after him, he must've survived.

Jack remembered just how many bounty hunters and potential assassins had went after him. Very few of them even came close to success; most of them were defeated like so many flies from a swat. Knowing only the strengths of the man he met earlier, Jack assumed that the other man in question would need help. Even he enlisted aid several times from strangers and friends back in the futuristic era, so it wasn't like it would be foreign territory for him.

After taking a deep breath and resting his legs, Jack stood up and began to walk down the dirt path again, seeing nothing but countryside everywhere he looked, and a tiny dot of a town in the far distance. The land around him was flat and open without any hills or mountains to add dimension to it. There was just grass and wheat, and a large plot for farming close to the town. He had rarely entered into a countryside where the land was utterly two-dimensional, even in his own time period. On the plus side, he could see whoever approached him easily, and one person was coming right his way.

As Jack walked closer to the other person, he could see him easier and easier. The man wore a gi similar to Jack's, except it was red and light violet, and he had wild fiery-red hair that trailed down his back like the tail of a phoenix. Jack vaguely recalled the large Rygar referring to a man with red hair when he mentioned who he was looking for, and for awhile, Jack believed this man to be him. As they got close enough to actually see each other clearly and call out to each other, the samurai noticed the man had a cross-shaped scar on his left cheek.

"Oh! Good day to you!" greeted the other man with a polite smile. "Are you heading into town? It's a very lovely place and the food is excellent, but if you see a large man in a grumpy mood, just tell him I'm sorry I had to run out on him, that I am." Jack couldn't help but smile a little, though he didn't know what the other man spoke of.

"I will… keep that in mind. Excuse me, sir, but I couldn't help but notice that you have a peculiar mark on your face…"

"…Oh…" The redheaded man glanced down towards his face, and then back towards Jack, his hand gradually slithering towards his sword. Jack saw it and immediately apologized.

"No, you do not understand. I have not come to harm you. I have come to warn you that you are in danger."

"I already knew that," stated the other man. "But how did you?"

"Because I met someone earlier today who spoke of fighting a man that bears your description. He was quite a large man, with an incredibly big sword and a deep, low voice. His name was--"

"Rygar the Red, correct?" said the other. Jack looked back at his fellow samurai in astonishment.

"Ah, so you have met him too! Then it seems my warning comes too late. Tell me, if you don't mind my asking, who are you and why are those people after you?"

"Oh, I'm sorry! I didn't introduce myself!" The man smiled again, seemingly ready to accept Jack as a friend--or at least not as an enemy--and bowed. "I'm Kenshin Himura, that I am, just a simple wandering swordsman. I'm not sure why those people are after me, but I'm guessing that it's because of something I once did in the past!"

"Kenshin Himura…" Jack rolled the name around in his head for awhile, testing it and finding it pleasant to say and hear. It was a good name. "I am called Jack, also a wandering swordsman."

"Well, fancy that!" exclaimed Kenshin, smiling warmly and scratching his head. Jack half-smiled and got straight to the point.

"You mentioned 'those people'… Is there more than one person after you, sir Himura?"

"I'm afraid so," he muttered, lowering his head to stare at the path. "I also spoke with that man called Rygar, and he seemed willing to tell me what I needed to know. I have three people after me now, and from what I can gather, they're all very skilled. Tell me…" He paused, staring hard at the ground as his concentration wavered between the man before him, the path below him, and the fight ahead of him. "…Why have you come to me?"

"No matter what sort of thing you have done in the past, I cannot allow any man to fight such foes single-handedly. I am on a quest to return to my home, and during my quest, I have helped many similar people face their own troubles, many times ending with great success. It would go against my code as a samurai if I did not help those in need, even if those in need are capable of defending themselves."

"You're very kind and generous, Mr. Jack, that you are," replied Kenshin with a smile. "I know it's odd since we're strangers, but I appreciate your help, that I do. I think I might even need it this time, that I will!"

"Then you will let me help you?"

"Oh yes, I would appreciate it very much, that I will!" Kenshim smiled, and he and Jack shook on it. Fate was indeed amused as the two samurai of legends finally met and teamed up, and wondered what sort of troubles and spoils they would see now that their swords were both under the same banner.

Just then, Jack's stomach growled.

"Forgive me," he muttered bashfully, "but I have not eaten in awhile. I was hoping I would find some place to dine for awhile…"

"Oh, that's not necessary!" exclaimed Kenshin. He then held up the bags of food that the keeper of the restaurant had given him, all the leftovers he took with him in his hasty departure. "It's not much, but if you can find a quiet spot to share this with me, then we can have a fine meal, that we could!" Jack smiled warmly at Kenshin's generosity, and led the way from the path into the endless field of grass. He wanted to know more about the young man, as he wanted to tell him things about himself, so a private picnic between two samurai warriors seemed the best time for it.

----------

After settling down and getting some food, Jack and Kenshin shared as much about themselves as they were comfortable, each going no further than necessary when describing themselves. Kenshin didn't mention his bloody past, and Jack never spoke of his time-traveling adventures, but they still had lots to talk about. Both men immediately became connected and found each other very agreeable, though they began to become curious about each other's sword skills. Kenshin assured Jack that they would both get a good demonstration once they were fighting off the killers.

Kenshin liked Jack, a more quiet and reserved samurai with as many scars on his body and soul as he himself; Jack liked Kenshin's friendliness, and was glad to finally be in the company of another samurai warrior, especially one who was as skilled and humbled as he. Jack was used to people trying to imitate him or challenge him, but it was rare to find somebody so similar and yet so unassuming. If anybody saw the two swordsmen talking to each other as they rested in the grass, they would've assumed that the two had been friends for years.

As they ate, Kenshin and Jack heard somebody walking down the dirt path towards the town (the same one that Kenshin came from and Rygar entered into). Neither could help but take a peek out of the corner of their eye to see who it was, even though it probably wouldn't be anybody special. It turned out to be a tall, thin man of foreign origins, a stately-looking gentleman with a light-blue suit on made of the best fabrics. He had a pale-blue bowler hat on his brown hair, a cane decorating his left hand, a curly brown mustache, and a monocle over his right eye. The man didn't seem to be Japanese, though only Jack could guess at his origin.

The thin man paused briefly as he caught the dining swordsmen out of the corner of his own eye, and turned his head to get a better look at them. He first crossed his eyebrows in confusion (by this time, the stares that Jack and Kenshin were giving him were permanent, since they knew he had spotted him), then squinted in what seemed to be anger or perhaps uncertainty. He strayed from the path immediately and waded through the grass, approaching them at a precise pace that any military drill sergeant would be proud of.

"Yes, hello, may we help you?" greeted Kenshin as soon as the man was within hearing range. He grumbled, and spoke a language that neither of them knew. The man cleared his throat, and with great strain, drawled out a very poor grasp of the Japanese dialect.

"Forgive. English. No speak language. Annoyance. Man?" He pointed to Kenshin, who blinked back in confusion for awhile.

"Oh, excuse me! I'm just a wanderer, sitting down here with my friend for a picnic. Would you care to join us?"

"I understand your dialect perfectly well," said Jack quietly, using the tall man's speech. He gave a wiry smile, and cleared his throat again, letting Jack interpret where he could.

"Yes, what a good relief that you know what I am saying. I was afraid that I'd have to scour the entirety of this backwards country in search of an interpreter, but it looks as if I am in luck. Tell me, perchance, was that mark on your face given to you by birth, or battle, or by accident?"

"Why do you want to know?" murmured Kenshin, reaching for his reverse blade. He had become awfully suspicious of people asking about his distinguishing trait, ever since learning of his potential killers. They were each given a single sign to determine their target from the rest of the populace--his scar--so Kenshin had a right to be cautious whenever somebody asked about it.

"Oh, I apologize, it wasn't my place to ask," muttered the man, via Jack's translation. "I was just, ermm… curious, that's all. Forgive me; as you can see, I am a foreigner in these parts. My name is Melville Ernst Drakemoth, and I and my associates have made it a habit of ours to visit the Orient once a year. I'm afraid that my Japanese has become a bit rusty since then."

"Oh, that's all right!" said Kenshin warmly. "It seems as if my friend here understands you, that he does! Would you like to join us for something to eat?"

"No, terribly afraid I must decline," coughed the thin man as he gestured to them with his cane. "You see, I have a bit of an appointment to make. A terrible waste, though; I am rather famished. Thank you though, young man, but t'will be the death of me if I am late. Well, goodbye." The man tipped his hat and parted, leaving Kenshin and Jack feeling good. He certainly seemed to be a friendly man, and an adventurous one as well to ignore the warnings set up by government officials. Tourists were discouraged because of the lingering bitterness left over from the war, but Melville Drakemoth had been determined to come again no matter what.

"That was a welcome deterrent from our day," said Jack. He and Kenshin smiled and continued to eat their food, but as Jack was filling his mouth with hot tea (his own brand, since Kenshin was still a bit wary), he noticed a small circular object in the grass that resembled a coin. He assumed that their temporary guest had dropped it, and hoisted it up in the air as he shouted out.

"Sir! You have dropped your coin!" Suddenly, the object began to glow red and beeped rapidly. Coming from the futuristic age, Jack immediately knew what a beeping sound meant and tossed the coin in the air as hard as he could. It exploded into a violent burst of flame, erupting in the sky like a firework, spewing sparks and debris everywhere, and startling everyone in the area. Kenshin gawked at the cloud of black smoke and flame, and realized that were it not for Jack's quick thinking, that explosion could have went off in their area!

When the two swordsmen stared at Melville to see his reaction, they saw a deadly glare of infuriation. He was not pleased.

"YOU!!" Kenshin and Jack each drew their swords, the magical bane of evil and the reverse blade, and ran towards the scowling man at full speed. They had both immediately figured out his true identity, that of Kenshin's third killer, and didn't want to waste any chances with him. As they closed in on the wiry man, however, he pointed his cane at them and produced a revolver from his suit. The cane was really a rifle in disguise!

"Stop!! I am an excellent marksman and could shoot the fleas off a dog's back at fifty yards with these, and they are aimed straight towards your heads!"

"You speak Japanese!" exclaimed Kenshin in a surprised whisper. Melville snorted angrily.

"Of course I do! You don't think I'd actually enter into a country for a long period of time without knowing how to speak its language! My dear samurai, I know more world languages than you have fingers or brains to count them with, and a thousand times more that number concerning methods of execution. Yes, there's no point in hiding it now since you're so bloody clever--I am one of your killers. I assume you have met the other two!"

"Then you are the man who tried to poison my tea, and who tried to trap me in that hole!"

"Well, your skills at deduction are admirable," he moaned sarcastically. "Yes, I'm rather disappointed that you have been wise enough to avoid my attempts. I usually complete my job on the first run, though you two seem to have the devil's luck with you. No matter; all luck runs dry in the end."

"No more talk from you!" stated Jack as he stepped forward. Melville snorted at him, turning his nose up so high that Jack could almost see inside it. He kept both guns aimed at the swordsmen, his hold on them not shaking at all, keeping them steady instead. He fired off a single round aimed at the tip of Jack's head, cutting off the pin that kept his hair up and releasing it. The samurai froze and stared wide-eyed at the man, and did not move a step further.

"As much as killing you both right at this very minute would please me, it's not my style," said Melville, taking a very slow step backwards. "I shall then make my get-away, leaving the two of you alive until you run across one of my devices. Believe me, there are nastier things in store for you besides bombs and poisoned tea--and that includes both of you! I originally wanted the man with the scar, but since the other one had to get involved as well," (he was pointing to Jack, of course) "I will eliminate you both. But not now. I must retreat, but remember, the battle does not end if the pawns are taken. Good day."

Melville Drakemoth bowed low, tipping his bowler hat as he slowly shirked away. Jack and Kenshin didn't want to let him go so easily and closed in on him with their swords drawn, but Drakemoth had a solution. He quickly reached into his bowler and threw out a cloudy powder at the two samurai, blinding them temporarily as he ran. They coughed and waved the yellowy smoke away as they ran after the thin man, who was nowhere near as fast as either nimble samurai.

Melville came to a forest that was far to the north of the path, a good distance away from the town, with Jack and Kenshin still pursuing them, their clothes and hair covered with the yellow powder still. They soon caught up with Melville and saw him spraying something on his own body, then he swatted at something in the air and ran even faster. Jack and Kenshin covered their faces as the object fell to the floor, and the tables were instantly turned on them as they realized that Drakemoth had disturbed a hive of bees.

And as they looked down at their yellowy bodies, they realized they were not covered with powder, but with pollen!

"Run!" Jack and Kenshin bolted the other way, sprinting as fast as possible so as to not be overwhelmed by the flying insects. A large swarm of them, covering the sky and buzzing after them at an angry speed, followed them both on a quest of starving vengeance. Drakemoth, it seemed, knew that the hive was there all along, and covered them in the pollen while spraying himself with a type of bee repellant, giving him a perfect escape route.

Outrunning the bees but not by much, Kenshin and Jack found a large storehouse in the distance they could retreat into. Putting all their energy in their speed, the two samurai warriors raced across the grassy plains, hopped over the dirt path, and slipped inside the shed, slamming the door on it and barely shielding themselves from the bees. They could still hear the angry hive buzzing outside, but for the moment, they were safe. Breathing out two sighs of relief, the samurai slumped down on the floor, their previous chase wasted and their situation even worse than before. They were now back to square one, a silent square reserved for taking deep breaths, planning, and suddenly remembering that all the food was still out there at the mercy of the bees.

"Grr…"

"Augh, I… nearly forgot!" wailed poor Kenshin, referring to their lost picnic. He gave Jack a smile of defeat, and slumped even further down, wishing that he had taken that restaurant manager's offer for a free meal. Jack sighed, and leaned up against the door, his stomach as angry as ever.