A/N:Well what can I say? I'm just as surprised by an update as you are. But seriously this has been a long time coming and I want to thank everyone who's stuck with me this far. Honestly, when I started this, I really only did it for myself and really doubted if anyone else would ever read this zany mash-up. But I'm really happy so many people seem to be enjoying this work of mine. Even if I have the most erratic publish schedule imaginable.
Part of the reason for the delay was because I kept reworking the introduction to a character near and dear to my heart that I wanted to do justice to and make him less the butt of a joke that he became in Dragonball. Even more than Tien who I feel was treated badly as the series progressed. Whether I succeeded or not, only you can tell me. So let me know what you think in a review.
The other thing I wanted to mention is, as you no doubt noticed, I like doing shout outs and drawing inspirations from other sources beyond HOTD and Dragonball. With me weaving references from Fright Night to Berserk as the mood strikes me. I mostly bring this up since this chapter I'm even more blatant with my "borrowing" from another franchise than with my "chaos spawn" back in chapter 5.
"A blade-no matter how exquisitely forged-is nothing without the hand that wields it. And there is no hand I trust more than Takashi's. Lord to Takagi and Busujima clan. His was an iron courage I saw forged and tempered in the hottest fires in the days and weeks which followed the outbreak." Saeko Busujima.
"What do you think?" Takashi asked sliding another stack of photocopier paper onto the pile growing across the teacher's desk.
The latter dragged across the front of the door to the teacher's lounge blocking it off from anymore of those things from getting inside. The broken bodies of two that already had when they arrived laying in the room's corner. Some old coats pulled from the cloak room pulled over to keep them out of sight.
Hisashi standing beside Takashi, rubbing his tingling arm still sore from using the Dodon ray, surveying the work they'd done together. A tight, slender smile on his otherwise grim face. Clear he was still shaken somewhat from their fight with Nobuyuki and…whatever he'd become.
"Yeah…I think so." The teen said uneasily.
Despite that he stepped back to pick up a chair wedging it underneath the desk's lip as well. Some of his cocky demeanor returning as he noticed Takashi's expression.
"But it's better to be safe than sorry, am I right?" He said to his friend, grinning.
Takashi shivering slightly as he felt their third helper brush up against him, her silky violet hair rubbing against his neck as Saeko inspected their handiwork. A particularly mischievous expression on her face as she did which only caused his cheeks to burn hotter.
"Looks good. I think we've earned ourselves a short break." The sword maiden said approvingly.
As much as her instincts screamed at her to stay on the move, to be predator instead of prey, rushing blindly ahead would lead to mistakes. And mistakes was something they couldn't afford. Slipping away from Takashi, relishing the sensation of his hard body pressed however briefly besides her, she turned. Walking over to a rolling chair staking her claim as hers. Unable not to smile to herself as she glanced over at Shizuka with Kyoko, the latter with her back to the rest of the room, fussing with the blushing woman as she tried to patch something resembling a shirt from the teacher's torn blouse. And, if Saeko knew the blonde, "accidently" getting more than a handful of the auburn-haired woman's G-cup breasts.
Especially judging from the embarrassed squeaks and protests she heard from her from time to time.
"J-Just stay over there, you two. There's nothing over here you need to see anymore of." A pink-faced Kyoko said glaring at the two males freezing them in their tracks.
Stern gaze somewhat undone a moment later by a pair of slender hands which slide over her chest squeezing it through the tattered fabric. White flesh bubbling up and rising out between Shizuka's appraising palms. Quickly letting go of the startled Kyoko.
"Almost done!" She promised with a wink to the other woman.
Ducking her head down again peering down into Kyoko's cleavage as she resumed her work.
"You better be." The other woman insisted angrily.
Her face unable to get any redder than it already was through that didn't stop it from trying. Amusing Saeko to see what that was like from the outside for once.
"When you get a moment, Doctor Marikawa,I think we need to discuss what we plan to do. Theirs's too many of us to fit into one car, if we plan on sticking together that is." She said letting the question hang in the air.
Accepting one of the teachers' bottled waters from the brown-haired Rei. The girl managing to look remarkably chipper despite their circumstances as she went around the room doling one to Kazu sitting by himself. A nervous bead of sweat running down the side of the boy's face as he kept glancing aside at the curvy nurse and nearly as curvy teacher. Accepting the water he smiled nervously at Rei, thanking her.
The sound of running water alerting Saeko to Saya's presence. The Pinkette partially visible through the open bathroom door as she pooled and splashed water over his face washing away some splattered Ghoul blood.
While completely disinterested in the discussion happening around her, the dark-tanned Bunny giggled spinning around in her chair. Tits falling out with a small, restrained bounce in all their fake silicon glory as her tied off shirt slide lower still. Only her racy red bra clinging to the firm, round globes spilling out over the sides and tops. Making a pouting face as Saeko, rolling her eyes, extended a leg out stopping her.
"Oh, no fair!" She complained in a childish voice, folding her arms across her chest." I was having fun!"
"What about the minibus for the away games?" Takashi suggested towards the keys hanging from a peg on the wall.
Pointedly trying not to look in Kyoko's direction. A problem shared with Hisashi, rubbing the back of his head.
"I can see the bus from here." Kyoko helpfully chimed in peering out through the school's window before turning around.
What was left of her shirt now knotted just underneath squeezing her large breasts causing them to rise mushrooming outward. Millimeter after millimeter of white, flawless skin seeping out through at least nothing pink showed. The entire thing looking like something Bunny would wear. A fact not helped by the lady herself curling her thumb and finger together showing her approval.
"Wow, for an old lady that outfit looks really good on you." She said obliviously earning a death glare from the teacher.
"Hey, I'm not that old! I'm barely thirty!" Kyoko snapped, heaving breasts jiggling, as she crossed her arms in front of her.
Sounding much more like one of her students than a teacher at the moment. Mood slightly brightened by Takashi's muttered agreement. The young teen eyeing her ample cleavage from where he stood across the room.
"That sounds good guys. But where are we going to go?" Rei choose to quickly ask before Bunny could say anything worse.
Handing a bottle of water to Kyoko and the curvy nurse who still seemed overly enamored with the teacher's bust as well. Over on his side of the room Takashi leaned against a copy machine, back pressing against the cold metal as he slide down it onto the floor. Admittedly he hadn't thought his plans much farther than getting everyone out of the school or the immediacy of staying alive.
But there wasn't any hesitation in his answer. His thoughts immediately jumping to his mother at the elementary school she worked at trapped alone in her own version of what was happening around him.
"First will make sure our families are all right. Starting with the closest ones." He informed the group." From there you can go with them if you want or they can come with us as we make it to someplace safe."
From where she was sitting, Saeko bobbed her purple head in agreement. Unscrewing the lid to her bottle of water. Letting the cool liquid swish around in her mouth a moment before she spoke.
"That sounds good. Through it'll have to be someplace outside the city. Even discounting the undead, people simply panicking are going to cause massive problems. Too much for us to handle safely." The Purplenette advised him.
No hesitation or doubt she'd be there beside him. Idly musing on if her father wasn't abroad at the moment if that would affect her decision. Probably not. He would be confident she could take care of herself just as she was of him. As the Busujima line had done for uncounted generations.
"Listening to you two, already thinking about tomorrow. I've just been trying to stay alive today." Hisashi said with a somewhat forced laugh. "But your right. Those sounded like military choppers earlier…if it was the Defense Force or the American military are taking action things have to be bad in the city. Raccoon city bad."
Taking his place beside Takashi as he slide down against the floor. An elbow propped against an unused stack of copy paper. Disciples of the Crane and Turtle school. Bitter and in Shen's case hated rivals. Using their Master's teachings to save themselves and each other. He wondered what his teacher would think.
"Only this isn't any game but real life. The best thing we can do is get out of the city." He agreed if somewhat reluctantly.
Going against everything Shen had taught him to simply turn and run away. And he wouldn't deny there was some childish part of him which wanted to meet this zombie apocalypse head on. Blood still racing as much from excitement as fear from their harrowing run through the school.
From the corner of his eye the muted, flashing light of the room's TV changed catching his attention. Hanging from the center of the ceiling it had been left on when they'd arrived. Sounded turned all the way down on a buxom news anchor. Large, black box text scrolling underneath her talking about fluctuations in the Yen to the Dollar. Now it changed to what appeared to be a news conference. A stuffy looking, pale European in a bad suit dabbing at his balding head with a white handkerchief as he spoke into a microphone.
The silver-haired boy continuing to watch as a shadow passed over Takashi, the latter looking up past her straining bust to Rei's twinkling eyes shining from beneath her brown bangs. Cheeks starting to turn a flushed pink as she held a water bottle towards him.
"Think I'd forget you?" She asked with a chuckle as Takashi reached a hand up towards it." Bet you both have worked up quite a thirst."
His fingers brushing her causing her blush to deepen for the split second of contact. Soft, slender fingers crossed with his rough, calloused ones. Takashi's recoiling back from the touch, hesitating before a third hand snatched it from them.
"Thanks, Takashi and I both appreciate it." A smug looking Saya said taking a deliberate drink in front of the other woman.
Sliding on her startled boyfriend's lap, that cute butt he loved to stare at wiggling beneath her slightly riding up skirt against his crotch, as she put an arm possessively around Takashi's neck. Pulling him into an embrace as she cradled her lips to his in a messy kiss as she forced some of the water into his mouth. Wasting more drizzling down the side of her cheek staining across the front of her uniform.
Watching, her face contorting into a frown, Rei rolled her eyes at the spectacle turning away with a loud "humph!" as she handed Hisashi a bottle. Neither the spiky, black haired boy nor his pink-haired girlfriend quite able to make out what she muttered under her breath but it sounded an awful lot like "slut".
"What?" Saya asked consciously once the kiss ended, noticing Takashi staring at her.
A line of rouge-like blush appearing across her face at his attention. Feeling his strong, powerful hands encircling around her waist as he held her against him. White fabric of her uniform bubbling up as it pressed against his red shirt and unbuttoned school jacket.
"Your glasses." Was his rather disappointing answer." You put on your glasses."
Earning a fearful glare from the heiress that would have withered a lesser man. Giving a frown which would have rivaled Rei's just a moment before as he called her attention to the small, lightweight pair of glasses resting on the ridge of her nose.
"I just couldn't keep wearing my contacts they kept sliding around on me." She stammered before Takashi silenced her with a slight squeeze.
"I always wanted to tell you how cute you look in them. Even if I know you don't agree." He explained to her.
Enjoying her dumbfounded expression as he lightly kissed her on the cheek. Not often one surprised Saya Takagi after all. Her cheeks heating back up to a rosy color when Hisashi spoke up.
"Turn the sound back up." He said accepting the water bottle from Rei as he stood up." I think we need to hear this."
On the screen the well-endowed news anchor making her return only now with a more frazzled looking demeanor. Cracks starting to show through her strained polish of decorum the more she read out loud the words from her prompter. Already reading along with the text on the screen, Kazu blindly reached for the remote unmasquing the sound.
"-begun to consider emergency actions against the outbreaks that have been occurring in locations across the globe. While in New York the UN Security Council is currently embroiled in an emergency session to coordinate aid and relief during the ongoing crisis."
"Outbreaks?" Takashi said quietly.
Rising to his feet he found himself drawn to the glowing television same as the others. Crowding around beneath it as they listened. His arm encircled around Saya holding her close, nuzzling her silky pinky hair, as the two of them looked up at the screen. Or rather he did, the Pinkette's face betraying surprised looking down as she felt the trembles in his hand resting against her hip.
"So they're everywhere? B-But it couldn't. Not that fast…" He said softly, almost too quietly for anyone else to hear.
Taking the remote from him, Saeko pointed it at the tv as she switched to a local news channel. The woman behind the news desk at the studio replaced with a Japanese woman standing in a deserted street on the outskirts of the city. Police and ambulances lined one side of the road and in the background behind her two officers could be seen retrieving something from a police car. One, his hand bandaged, appearing to be sick as he doubled over vomiting as his worried partner attempted to render aid.
"…it's been feared more than ten thousand have been victimized in the Saitamo area so far. The Governor has already called for-" The woman was saying stammering as a sudden gunshot off camera startled her.
The policeman behind her rushing back as she turned looking over her shoulder with wide, alarmed eyes. Camera jerking, image blurring slightly as it's operator moved it faster than it could autocorrect as the cameraman started to pan back across the street. To gurneys of black bag clad bodies waiting to be loaded into the back of parked ambulance. Image steadying just in time to catch one of the bags stiffly raise up. Dark plastic rippling, contorting around the sluggishly moving body beneath it. A second form rising up on the second gurney behind it just as the top of the first exploded from a flurry of bullets piercing through its chest and face.
"Already declared a state of emergency and requested the emergency disaster relief…it's a gunshot!" The woman could be heard, no longer in focus, giving up reading her scripted, prepared lines." It looks like the police are finally using firearms! From what I can see here-N-no. No!"
Her last words becoming more frantic matching the camera man's bobbing, sea-sick inducing motion as he tried to capture what was happening before he dropped the camera. Hitting the ground the picture wobbled but didn't end showing the police vanishing beneath a curtain of the undead horrors descending upon them like vultures.
In the fuzzy corner they made out the slender, attractive legs of the correspondent as she turned to run. Her microphone catching her sobs and retching sounds as she gagged. Not so fortunate was her cameraman who briefly appeared dangling above his camera. Blood pooling from a massive wound torn through his belly which soaked through dripping down his legs in long muddy streaks across the camera's lens. But not before they saw what shattered the struggling man's neck like a twig and tossed him aside.
Only the torn, tattered shreds of clothes sticking its hide the only clue the malignant creature had ever been human. It was a sickly creature in places swollen and distended while emaciated and skeletal in others. Bony crest and horn rising from its head above a single, fetid eye a sallow, diseased yellow color as it looked down at the camera. Bony, narrow chest heaving with every labored breath above an engorged belly split apart in places. Rancid entrails spilling out unnoticed by the hellbeast. In one worm-eaten hand it clutched a broken, lichen sword. Fronds of mildew seeping out from between its bony fingers wrapped around the rusty handle. Then, raising a foot, it stomped down smashing the picture to static.
A moment later this was replaced with a "Technical Difficulties" card before the image shifted to a cute but out of her depth looking weather girl in a yellow dress being shoved in front of the camera.
"There appears to be a problem with our remote. From now on we'll bring you the story from inside our studio." She rather unconvincingly read from the paper sheet a crewmember had handed to her from off camera." The condition outside seems extremely chaotic so stay home unless it's absolutely necessary to stay outside. We'll bring you more as soon as it's safe to cover the current situation from the site."
Poor girl nervously looking up from the paper as she finished reading into the camera. Perhaps waiting for some kind of sign of how she did. Back in the classroom a desk groaned and collapsed, legs buckling underneath it, as a frustrated Takashi smashed his fist against the top of it. Much to the surprise of everyone but Saya and Hisashi.
"Is that all? People are turning into monsters out there. Why didn't they tell us anything else? Something useful?" He shouted at the television his anger, and ki, spiking.
"Yeah! Looks like no school tomorrow. Or maybe ever!" The bleach blonde Bunny said.
Her rolling chair squeaking as she pushed skidding across the room over to the cute boy she'd decided would be her new boyfriend. Big, vacant eyes admiring the crumpled, fist-shaped dent Takashi had left in the demolished desk. Moving at a speed even Master Roshi would have been amazed at as she appeared at the spiky, black-haired boy's side lifting his arm feeling up his muscles through his jacket's sleeve.
"Wow…do you, like, work out or something? I mean I knew you were like totes strong but…how much do you lift? I love a strong, hunky-ow! Ow, ow, ow!" Bunny cried out, letting go of Takashi.
Source of her pain a stretched earlobe Saya was currently twisting as she pried the bottle-tanned hussy off of her man. Rolling her eyes as she pushed the ridges of her glasses back up.
"Well if the dead truly crave brains I guess you'll be safest person here." The Pinkette said with a sigh letting go of the other woman.
"Really?" A relieved Bunny asked rubbing her tender ear." Why makes you think that?"
Ignoring her, if only because she was afraid she'd might throttle the airhead if she didn't, Saya answered Takashi's question instead.
"It's because they're afraid of causing a panic. They all are. From the Governor up to the UN council. They don't want anyone to figure out they don't have the barest clue on what to actually do."
"No one panics if everything goes according to plan. Even if that plan is horrifying." Kazu agreed, sounding like he was quoting something.
Above the channel changed again, this time to an American sounding newswoman with an impressive amount of cleavage showing. Text helpfully translating what she was saying floating across the bottom of the screen.
"Doesn't anyone hire male newsreader anymore?" Saeko said wryly." Feel like I'm stuck in some male-fantasy magna or fan fiction."
Staring up at the rather well-endowed woman on the screen the other's couldn't help but notice the sword mistress seemed to puff out her own large D-cup breasts.
"This unusual and unprecedented biological phenomenon which has spread across North America has yet to be put under control." The woman on the screen read out loud.
A helpful banner in red beneath her emblazoned with the caption "unusual phenomenon spreading" in large, eye-catching letters. Unlike the previous she seemed unflustered by the events happening around her. Make-up and hair still stylishly perfect. Voice never altering as the image cut away to a shadow-strewed white house in the middle of the night. A olive-drab helicopter lifting off from the manicured lawn.
"Government authorities have evacuated the White House and will relocate to a command center onboard the aircraft carrier George Washington. There are reports the transfer of power is in preparation for the use of tactical warheads to combat the infestation." The woman narrated as the chopper rose and vanished into the inky black sky.
Woman doing her damnedest to make the cowardly retreat to an offshore fortress as interesting and noteworthy as the day's weather forecast. While again the picture changed to a nighttime cityscape. Glittering neon lights shining brightly on the two soldiers in camera view. The farthest kneeling as he took a shot at a gathering crowd of Ghouls. In the distance one of the creatures staggered and fell over, back of his head disintegrating into gory fragments.
A pair of tanks, one on either edges of the camera frame, blockading the city street but neither added their own fire. Possibly attempting to conserve ammunition as the still standing soldier joined the first. Attracted by some sound or motion not captured on film the camera tilted rising up towards a smoke filled skyline. A stocky, crude looking military plane flying in the distance above the ruined city.
"We've currently lost contact with Moscow. Beijing has been sat ablaze." She continued to narrate indifferently, the vantage shifting to jerky, low-resolution still images captured from the burning inferno of the Chinese capital." London has maintained order while in Paris and Rome there are reports of looting. The gover…ent for…ces have d-decl…ared mar…tial…laaaaaaaaw…"
Returning to the woman at the newsdesk the live feed began to distort, lines of static began to cover the screen as her image jumped, coalesced then dissolved away entirely. Her words vanishing in a hiss of raw, unrelenting static which bathed the on looking students and teachers in its white light.
"But everything was so normal this morning." Rei said voicing what everyone else in the room was thinking as she turned and buried her face in Hisashi's shoulder." How could all this happen in just a few hours?"
Feeling foolish as she did, hiding her burning eyes threatening to mist up, acting like a foolish child. The daughter of a police detective should be made of stronger stuff, not a weepy-eyed damsel she'd always thought. From her youngest days idolizing her father and his kind, compassionate courage he seemed to exude. Never rattled, never a misstep, he always confidently knew what do in any situation. Even when that path led nowhere pleasant.
Seeing the chaos the city, the entire world, was descending into somehow making it all seem even more real than her own experiences had if that was possible. Before she'd clung to the hope the authorities would arrive just like her childhood nightmares her father rescued her from years before. Now knowing the chaos descending over the entire city, knowing her father was among those still trying to maintain order…
She didn't refuse Hisashi's arms as he cradled her even if, deep down, it wasn't his voice she wished to hear whispering in her ear. Another pair of fingers other than his softly raking through her long, brown hair as he tried to soothe her.
"They'll put a stop to it. They have to stop it, right? From spreading I mean." The silver-haired boy said.
More optimism than true belief in his voice as Rei looked up at him. Her eyes still red-rimmed but starting to regain her composure.
"Everything will go back to normal soon. You'll see." He insisted.
Earning a skeptical look from Saya. The Pinkette sliding out from behind Takashi to face the couple. An arm crossed beneath her own large chest, the other adjusting her glasses as she stood at her straightest, most authoritative height. Such as it was in her case.
"That isn't going to happen, I'm afraid. This is a pandemic, a global outbreak." She explain flipping into full lecture mode." The last time the world experienced something of this magnitude was the Spanish flu in 1918. More than six hundred million people got infected and fifty million people died from it. So now you know. Help isn't coming…everyone's too busy trying to help themselves."
"Not to be disagreeable but I think this is more like the black death from the fourteenth century." Was Shizuka's polite correction to the analogy.
Like the others the blonde stood still staring at the no longer broadcasting television watching the fields of snowy static prance across the screen. Her normally carefree expression replaced with a more fretful one not even the tempting prospect of Kyoko's nearby barely contained melons could entirely affect.
"One-third of the European population died. You're smarter than you look." Saya said sounding slightly impressed by the other woman's knowledge.
The blonde positively beaming at the praise smiling happily. Beside her Kyoko rolled her eyes and for what seemed like the millionth time wondered how the woman had managed a position at such a prestigious school. Well besides the two obvious ones of course.
"But no disease, no pandemic, could cause the changes we've seen. Make the dead walk or transform a man into a monster like what happened to that madman right in front of us." Takashi said with a shudder at the terrible memory.
His outburst causing Shizuka to weigh his words, obviously giving them no small amount of thought. The image of her in thought almost adorable through the spiky, black-haired youth choice not to comment on it.
"It would seem to violate everything known about medical science." The blonde admittedly reluctantly." I have a feeling they'll be adding several new chapters before this is all over."
Growing bored and increasingly feeling left out of the boring conversation, Bunny pushed Saeko aside taking the remote from her. The Purplenette, an eyebrow raises towards the other woman, allowing herself out of the way without protest as the bottle blonde hastily switched through identical channels of static.
"Come on, one of these things has to still be working. This apocalypse thingy isn't going to be any fun without TV and stuff." She protested growing more frantic with each defunct channel she found.
"It could be some form of nano-machines." Saya suggested ignoring Bunny, a feat that was at times easier said than done." My father has…funded certain groups who are advancing in that area."
Her suggestion not even convincing herself let alone the others. Nervously swallowing, Kazu waited to see if she would say anything more, before making his own suggestion.
"Nothing on Earth could do what we've have seen. Do you think-that is maybe it could be…something otherworldly? Even alien?" He timidly suggested." I mean I don't know but some of the forums I visit-they sort of talk about the Reptilians and the Greys as well as the Macross incident."
"Macross?" Saya said recognizing the name." Nice place, or was. White, sandy beaches and crystal blue water. My father was thinking of investing in making it a tourist spot before a radioactive meteor demolished the entire thing."
"That's the official story." Kazu said nodding." But online there was a leaked CIA document suggesting what struck the island wasn't an asteroid but…well some kind of spacecraft. From another world."
Finishing his tale with a somewhat sheepish look as he saw the dubious expressions on his comrades' faces.
"It was just an idea." He finally said, shoulders slumped in defeat.
Surprised when he felt Takashi's calloused palm on his shoulder. The warrior giving him a reassuring smile.
"And one as good as anyone else's guess. And that's all we can do. Stay alive and try to learn. As long as we stick together we can do that." Takashi told him.
The words and the confidence surprising even the Turtle school student. Imagining he was sounding more and more like his teacher. Well except for the old man's more pervy antics. Their plan unchanged as far as he was concerned. Feeling the same weight upon his breast as he had helplessly watching his father die at the hands of another denizen of a fevered nightmare. Only now he wasn't a child anymore and he swore to whatever God or Gods there were or even watching aliens to save what lives he could.
"H-Hey, let go!" The panicked, embarrassed squeal of Kyoko interrupted.
A wide-eyed Takashi greeted as he turned towards her to the sight of the busty teacher's breasts bubbling out from her skimpy top. Squeezed and molded by the over eager blonde pressed up behind her. Her hands slipped underneath the makeshift top roaming over the jiggling, white globes. Slender, white fingers just barely managing to cover the pink of the other woman's areoles. Palms cupping the soft, jiggling globes pushing them upwards spilling from her grasp.
"Are your brains completely in those oversized udders of yours?" Kyoko complained, face blushing an embarrassed red.
Doing her very best not to notice the sensation of those large breasts pressed against her back. Bulging upwards between the two of them almost as Kyoko's were in her surprisingly strong grasp. Creamy, white flesh peeking out between the straining buttons of Shizuka's white blouse. Boob-flesh nearly bursting free the more the other woman squeezed against Kyoko's back.
"Nonsense. I'm just making sure I guessed their size correctly. Wouldn't want you to slip out now would we? Of course if you want me to let go and let all these handsome boys see you in all your glory…"Shizuka said, a naughty smile on her lips.
"Y-you wouldn't dare!" The auburn-haired woman sputtered.
Forced to endure the other woman's interest in her shapely form with whatever shred of dignity she could manage. Shamed beyond reckoning knowing the others were watching all of this. Trying to ignore the flush of heat she felt creeping between her squeezing thighs as she thought about how Takashi was one of the watchers.
In the long march through the ages numerous myths and legends had sprung up around the curiously named and ill-fated Diablo Desert. Whose red and black sands crawled stretching between the vast expanses of the Chinese Republic and the Mongolian steppes. Arabic traders had brought tales of two greedy djinn brothers who had begun to fight over the hoard of treasure they'd stolen from the neighboring kingdoms. So long and hard did the two fight, mountains crumbling beneath their blows as new ones rose thrusting out elsewhere, that their malice and greed seeped into it poisoning the land.
While Chinese scholars to the east spoke of a great dragon-god as the culprit. Betrayed and abandoned by its fickle people it had risen from beneath the icy cold lake from which it slept delivering its terrible vengeances. Heating the land with its breath until the crops withered and the streams and rivers boiled away. While the hurricane gale of its wings swept the globe unearthing sediment and sands which buried sweeping away the unworthy civilization.
From the Christian missionaries who returned alive from the barren wastes came even stranger stories of a fortress-ziggurat of black marble hidden amid the desolate dunes. Its entombed inhabitance in a deathless sleep waiting for the stars to align. Serving a black colossus of burning flame they'd called forth from the stygian outer gulfs to scorch the land and would do so again when the time was right.
The Diablo Desert a place to be feared and avoided like the Devil's Hand nestled in the Carpathian mountains or the hidden kingdom of the dreaded Ox-King to the west. Home only to the most unscrupulous and resourceful of predators. Not all of whom were of the four-legged variety.
"Up!" The voice young and giddy, like hot steel parting through melting wax.
Yamcha feeling a pair of rough, calloused hands grabbing at his back as the tied teen was lifted up off the back of his own car. A 30's roadster he'd painstakingly reclaimed and modified from the voracious, desert sands. Landing nimbly on his feet, hands tied tightly behind him, as he was tossed over by his cruel looking captor.
No greater contrast possible than between the two. Svelte, with a powerful, muscular chest and arms Yamcha cut a dashing figure even restrained as he was. Small hint of an impish smile playfully tugging in the corners of his mouth as he walked forward. The long black mane of hair billowing framing his youthful, handsome face in a cool breeze which blew across the dusty, parched land.
His captor only a few years older, prodding Yamcha along with the rusty tip of a broken sword, scrawny with peeling skin sun-burned and raw which the sun had baked to the consistency of boiled leather. Creased and wrinkled in folds far beyond his years. An effect added to by the teeth missing every time he smiled, the result of some tumultuous bar fight no doubt. As was the puckered, livid scar curling up his right cheek pulling his features into a permanent sneer.
Directing Yamcha into a small, shanty of an encampment. Simmering ashes of a cooking pit off to one side waiting to be restarted. The remains of the blacked carcasses of a coyote or perhaps wild dog stuck through a wooden stake over it. Bits of singed fur still clinging to the bones. Further off was a small, mustard-color Ger tent of felt to offer some protection from the sun and brace against the freezing desert night's. Through what dominated Yamcha's attention were the sunken pit of earth in the middle and the row of heads buried up to their necks which lined across it.
Pitifully things, deformed by heat and the gnawing bite of the sand-filled winds at once shriveled and gaunt and swollen. Two of the heads little more than husks by this point but the third condemned amazingly still clung feebly to life. Red and raw, his eyes set deep in his peeling face were murky and clouded over peering past the mounds of dirt piled up to his chin. Staring from this world into the next. If he noticed their arrival at all he gave no sign.
"What a shame…looks like there isn't any room. Better luck next time, right?" Yamcha quipped as he stopped short in front of the spectacle.
Doing his best not to let his revulsion show as the malignant stench of death struck him full in the face or felt the buzzing insects which swirled over the dead and dying lost souls. Each of the condemned sentenced to the most agonizing death by the bloodthirsty village of Obrac. An unholy haven for the worst sort of criminality and traffickers were for a price a man could safely escape the reach of authorities. Not the best sort to rob from, in retrospect.
Frowning at Yamcha's continued insolence, hoping to hear his fearful begging, Mort stepped past towards the wizened, fly-specked head laboring for breath. Yellowed teeth bared in a mirthless grin as he knelt roughly grabbing the condemned man by a dirty knot of hair from his head pulling it back.
"Looks like you've got a reprieve." The man said mockingly thrusting the edge of his saber across the man's exposed throat and dragging it across.
Rising, letting the head sink forward as blood pooled beneath it, he turned back towards his prisoner. Rubbing a soiled scrap of cloth along the rust-flecked edge of his weapon.
"What do you know, a vacancy after all." He said with a harsh, bitter laugh.
Stopping as a shovel flew through the air landing at the man's feet. Steel blade sinking into the gritty soil before Mort snatched it up. Shirking in front of the much larger, rudy-complexion man with a bent-hook of a nose jutting from his doughy face. Middle-aged with balding, greasy black hair and a sagging paunch which hung low over his belted waist. A Chinese copy of a Kalashnikov strapped over his fleshy back.
He was Obrac's Executioner, a position feared and grudgingly respected by the village's inhabitance. It was to his cruel spirit that it fell to see each judgment was carried to its fatal conclusion. A task he relished with ghoulish repast.
"Enough games." Khung ordered his son with a deep growl." Lift that trash out and get him in the hole. Sooner he is, the sooner we can eat."
"That's what you always think about. That bloated stomach of yours." Mort griped even as he obediently began to scrape and dig away at the bloodstained sand.
His place as the man's only son giving him more protection against Khung's ill-temper than most but not even Mort was stupid enough to see how far it would go. As it was, the Executioner only smiled, resting a hand against his immense belly which quivered like jello as he laughed.
"When you get to my age you realize your next meal is far more important than a nameless thief." He laughed walking over to the remains of last evening's meal to see what he might find.
Snapping an already well picked-clean rib bone from the carcasses to gnaw on the end sucking on the marrow. Bone splintering, crushed beneath his massive, strong jaws.
"I'm not some nameless thief!" Yamcha snapped at the Executioner in indignation." You don't even realize who you've caught this day, do you?"
A rather sore point with the young thief and bandit who spent long hours arguing, usually with a doe-eyed serving girls, that he really was that man on the wanted poster alongside the deadly Launch and Mercenary Tao. Usually with not much results.
"I know a dead man when I see one. And that's all you are." Khung said spitting out the remains of the rib bone.
"But not too quick." A fourth brash, hot-tempered voice interrupted." An extra five thousand Zeni for each day he lives in absolute misery."
The owner of the voice perched inspecting Yamcha's former roadster with obvious interest. Appreciating the level of craftsmanship and work which had gone into restoring the vehicle. The same as he had with the large, elegant-looking scimitar which now rested across his back. A braided tassel swaying from the pommel as the man rose from the car walking towards them.
A white turban shielding a face a darker reddish-mahogany than his compatriots. Upper lips and jowls covered with twisting braids of a thick mustache and beard. Furry chin waxed and tapered into a fork. Brightly colored glass beads and brass pieces woven into the reddish-copper hair adding to his satanic visage.
The son of a fleshpot dealer and gun smuggler who aspired to a higher station than the slums of Obrac his father had built. Wrestling away much of the control and responsibility from his now decrepit father over the clandestine operations which allowed the corrupt village to prosper and flourish.
Jeweled rings adorning each of his hands' fingers in a lavish display of wealth which paled against the gold chain which hung around his neck supporting the fist-sized blood ruby which hung over his chest. The murderous red jewels virtually priceless coveted the world over despite the supposed curse they brought upon their owners. Jagreen Lern's a sign of his loyalty and his village's allegiance to a larger, neighboring city-state growing in power and importance. Siding with it over the Communist Chinese whose tenuous grasp over these far flung territories was perpetually shifting and waning.
As the Ox-king proved, he and his village resolute within their fiery mountain stronghold to the west. Through it was as much for Lern's own pleasure as gaining the favor of the Forgotten One for his endeavor which saw female slaves vanish into the shrine built deep beneath his father's house never to return.
"Is this taking things too far? I didn't even know she was his sister." Yamcha said loudly pretending he didn't see the furry, blue and tan face peeking from the bundle of supplies tied to the back of the roadster." I only ran into the woman's bath trying to hide."
Blundering into the shapely, doe-eyed beauty completely slack-jawed as she appeared from the heated pool. Her body wreathed in coiling steam rising off of her slick, naked body. Not that it had hid much from his leering eyes. Yamcha could still remember the far too pleased with himself smirk he'd worn for the pursuing guards who'd found him pushed to the floor, his pants pulled down around his ankles. Lern's sister kneeling in front of him, hot breath tickling the phallic organ she cradled in one hand as she ran her mouth down the side sucking on it. Working her way back up, her skilled tongue running up the underside until her lips wrapped around his dome head.
"It's not like I stole her virginity or anything. Pretty sure someone else already beat me to it." He continued to talk." From what I hear half the men in the village are credible suspects."
Grinning he turned to confront the approaching Lern. Peering past to the small blue form which slipped out hiding from sight behind the roadster. He then turned his attention back to his captor hearing the caressing whisper of well-oiled steel slipping from its sheath a split second before Lern clumsily drew the sword from over his shoulder. Jabbing the tip of the weapon beneath Yamcha's chin, flesh of his neck simply dimpled by the sharpened point of dragon steel.
"No matter what you say or do, I won't deny myself the pleasure of your suffering." Lern said, his smile becoming even more deadly than the sword.
Raising the weapon towards Yamcha's flinching face, twisting his cheek away to avoid being cut.
"But there are always things men fear worth then death." His captor chuckled as Khung appeared from behind grabbing the desert thief.
Fat, pudgy fingers spreading across Yamcha's face sinking underneath his eyelid and pulling it open. Holding it like that as the sword's edge continued its journey up along his cheek towards it. Never more grateful when Yamcha heard a familiar voice call out to them.
"E-Excuse me." The voice shy, nervous and very, very beautiful sounding.
Drawing Lern's and the other's attention to the shivering, pretty thing which stepped into view. Instantly captivating the men who stared eyeing her nubile, young body scanitily clad in a playboy bunny costume. Long brown hair falling down around her shoulders as the fretting woman-child held her hands clutched to her chests nervously looking at the four men with large, nervous eyes.
"I seem to have lost my way from my caravan which I'm reasonably sure are still a thing in these parts and I was w-wondering if one you s-s-strong men might be w-willing to help me?" She said timidly.
Holding her arm across her chest as she held her shoulder further emphasizing her bust. Round, perky C-cup breasts bulging upwards from the clinging, black corset she wore. Her youthful, teenage face partially hidden beneath her silky, brown bangs. Face burning a bright, vivid pink as she walked forward aware every male eye was upon her body. Long, slender legs ending in ungainly high-heeled pumps ill-suited for the desert climes. Every unsteady step causing them to sink into clumps of the loose, red sand.
Squirming even more beneath the lustful gazes she found herself in. A lecherous smile pressed across his fat face, Khung let go of Yamcha as he stepped out from behind him. Feeling a stirring in his pitiably small crotch hidden beneath his overhanging belly. Never one to allow a tasty morsel to escape his grasp when he had the chance.
"No need to be afraid of us, Girlie." He said in a voice that made the girl's skin crawl, shirking back from the obese man." We'll protect you from the cold desert night, won't we?"
Almost flooded with relief at Lern's harsh, barking reprimand. The village tyrant turning as if the girl was an unearthed viper. Lowering his newly acquired sword to his side as he pulled a long barrel revolver from its holster. Steel-gray chamber rotating as he pulled the hammer back with a muted click pointing the weapon towards the fearful girl.
"Idiot. What girl would be out here alone of all places?" He snapped at the chastised Executioner." That means restrain her for questioning you imbecile."
"With pleasure." Khung replied eagerly.
Imagining what those fat tits would feel like beneath his hands as he hold her down. And of course that skin-tight body suit would have to be torn off. Who knows what she might be hiding on her person. Planning on being excruciatingly thorough as he took a step towards the woman.
Behind him, body draped limply in his arms, Mort moved to sling the body aside depositing it onto the fiery, scarlet sands when the thing gasped in his arms. Neck wound puckering, whistling as a bubbling sieve of air was forced through. Poor soul still desperately clinging to some mad life attacking with a mad, renewed vigor in the Executioner Son's arms. The latter screaming out as they fell backwards into the collapsing hole.
All thoughts of the strange woman forgotten, a worried Khung scrambled bounding with unseen agility after his son. Attempting to pull of the wheezing captive who clawed and bit at the halpless Mort.
A look of frustration on his stony face, Lern looked away from the unfolding scene back towards the girl cold malic reflecting in his eyes. Girl closing her eyes, arms uselessly raised to shield herself, as she heard the shot. Or what sounded like one at least. Relieved when her body failed to feel of the sensation of hot, piercing lead. Opening her beautiful orbs she was treated to the trembling form of Lern. His custom revolver spilling from slacken fingers as he tried to speak, no words coming out from his paralyzed lips.
The dark-haired teen standing close behind him. Points of two fingers driving into a spot at the base of his neck which held the older man transfixed. The remains of the rough, horse-hair rope he'd effortlessly split apart unraveling from around his scuffed wrists.
"Don't worry. You'll live." Yamcha said drawing his hand away from the tormented nerve cluster.
Snatching his sword back from the man's clay-like fingers before hooking his boot beneath the other man's legs sideswiping him. The once high and mighty Lern falling face first down into the gritty sand. A low groan heard from the motionless form.
"The effect's temporary, unfortunately the paralysis doesn't affect your nerve endings so you're going to be feeling this for a while." Yamcha taunted checking on the Executioner and his son.
Still trapped beneath their prisoner, curled fingers digging into his back, a struggling Mort pressed lifting the scrawny but surprisingly strong figure half out of the hole. Straining arms pressed against the man's naked, dirty-smeared chest forcing a wedge between him and the man's almost feral like ferocity. Holding the man's head and face apart from his own as the man snapped biting at him trying to rip his face off. While behind Khung leveled his rust-pitted Kalashnikov jabbing it against the base of the prisoner's bobbing skull splitting the thing apart in a fiery demonstration of destruction.
Bits of confettied brains and skull fragments pelting his scrambling son as Mort squeezed out beneath the headless thing climbing out of the hole like a whimpering animal. Back a long, bloody streak. His dull eyes growing into saucers as he looked and pointed past his father, a string of unintelligent babble escaping from his widening mouth shouting warning.
Striking a more martial pose, slipping protectively in front of the woman, Yamcha couldn't help but smile as he brandished his newly reacquired sword towards the turning gunman. Hands sliding into their familiar place on the polished, perfectly balanced pommel of the elegant weapon. Pressing a foot forward into the sinking, crimson sand as he shifted his weight in preparation.
"You think you can do it?" He challenged the Executioner swinging the smoking barrel of his assault rifle towards the bandit." It's been tried before by better men."
Contemptuously shifting his gaze to look over his shoulder to the woman happily cheering him on.
"You can do it, Yamcha! Knock his block off!" Puar encouraged him wobbling in her high heels.
Squeezed breasts bubbling out from her tight body suit and corset setting off pleasing undulations of motions as they wobbled and bounced threatening to spill out with the slightest act. Pantomiming throwing a punch through empty air which nearly stretched the clinging black fabric to the bursting point struggling to cover the jostling, squished globes.
"Well, I never did want to disappoint a lady." The Bandit said watching the Executioner's finger tighten on the trigger of his gun.
A single gunshot splitting through the air sparking off and deflected midway towards Yamcha's blurring form. Aura crackling around his coiled body for an instant like a burst of lightening highlighting his muscled form. Winking from existence from infront of Puar with a gust of sand-biting wind and rematerializing above the panicking Khung's head bringing his sword down across the rifle. Dragon Steel effortlessly slicing through it as it did the air parting the weapon in two. The forward half falling to the ground a head of a smoking, lead pellet which dribbled from the front of what remained harmlessly.
Switching to a one-handed stance, the thief drew his hand back driving it towards the Executioner's soft midsection. Stopping the flat of his palm a fraction of an inch from that gelatinous mass allowing the sheer force of rushing air to do his work for him. Eyes nearly bulging outwards from Khung's sockets as his stomach puckered inward then bounce back as the fat tub of lard was knocked backwards.
An almost disappointed Yamcha turning his attention to the injured Mort who'd crawled out of the hole. Still on his hands and knees the sweating, pale-faced youth cringed looking up at the towering figure. A hand freezing as it curled to the grubby Russian-made pistol stuffed into his waistband.
"I wouldn't, if I was you." The thief warned, more annoyed than concerned with the man's welfare.
A trembling Mort looking like he was about to say something when he turned his head and retched. His gun lost, falling to the desert sands, as he finished then collapsed beside the noxious puddle of sick. Lowering his sword, Yamcha turned and walked away from him and the groaning Executioner flattened out across the ground.
"Wow, Yamcha! Those creeps didn't stand a chance against you, did they?" Puar shouted excitedly gushing over her hero.
Suddenly vanishing in a giant poof of yellow smoke. When it cleared the young woman was gone replaced with a blue furred cat which hovered in mid-air. Furry tail twitching happily dangling below her floating body. She rushed floating across to hug him, earning an affectionate smile from the warrior as he placed a hand reassuringly on her furry shoulder.
"That's the problem. What girl is going to be impressed by me beating such weaklings?" Yamcha complained, mood more dour compared to his companion's glee." Or even notice me, stuck doing small-time jobs against nobodies."
Ending the embrace, Puar levitating over his shoulder, he walked over the crumpled form of Lern rolling him over. Snatching the blood red jewel around his neck snapping the gold chain with a slight yank. Quickly adding the man's many, expensive rings as he slipped them off his fingers. A paralyzed Lern struggling to speak coming out only as a whimper.
"Wasn't it a girl who got you into this mess?" Puar asked skeptically.
Slowly circling in front of Yamcha, her small furry arms crossed in front of her. Scowling at the memory of Lern's harlot of a sister and how she'd nearly thrown a wrench into all of their careful plans. Not that Yamcha wasn't fully capable of doing that on his own.
"I mean a real girl. One I could marry someday, you know?" The thief said smiling goofily as he handed the loot to his partner in crime." And it isn't like Ishita meant for her brother to go ballistic. Besides, it got Lern out of his house and away from his bodyguards so it worked out in the end."
Rolling her eyes before vanishing once again into a yellow cloud. When it finally dissipated the girl from before had returned if slightly more sensibly dressed. A larger, man's motorcycle jacket wrapped around her shoulders framing her white t-shirt and small, khaki shorts she wore showing off her long, slender legs. Instead of bunny ears she wore a Capsule Corp hat beneath which were the two soft, furry triangular ears she'd kept from her previous form. As she did the blue tail which slipped beneath her jacket coiling around her waist like a belt.
A knotted sack in her hands which she undid holding it open as Yamcha poured the blood ruby and assortment of rings into it. Tying it closed as she draped it over one shoulder as the two started to make their way back to the roadster.
"You still got me." She reminded him, a little hopefully.
Letting out a small, contented sigh as she felt his strong arms around her lithe body lifting her off the ground over the side of the car and gently depositing her into the passenger seat. Tingles running through her body where his fingers had touched her. The Changling happily closing her eyes at the sensation-
"Brigand!" The half strangled voice of Lern interrupted.
Digging his hands into the harsh, red sand dragging his half-limp body forward after the pair.
"Come back…you're not done with me." He wheezed reaching a smeared hand up towards the roadster.
Clumps of sharp, angular sand falling off from his raw palm, unused as it was to physical exertion. Grabbing at Yamcha's heel who contemptuously kicked the grasping man's hand away. Dropping to his haunches beside the wiggling Lern.
"That reminds me." He said reaching across and untying the sheath from around the other man's back." I'll be taking that back as well."
Affixing it over his back, sliding his sword into it, as he walked around towards the driver side. Lern feebly attempting to trail after him only stopping as another pair of legs stumbled in front of him. The groveling lord trailing up those legs to the swaying Mort. Sickness clinging to his lower jaw as febrile eyes languidly rolled into view from his sockets. Jaw twitching, moving up and down, forming words as a milky substance began to cloud over his eyes.
"H-Help me, p-p-please…don't feel w-w-well." He groaned slumping forward on shaky legs.
Feverish voice turning to a low, inhuman grunt as Lern clumsily swiped a plodding, clay-like hand at him. Struggling to his knees as he pushed the younger man aside.
"Imbecile! Get your diseased carcass away from me!" He shouted, nearly falling over but righting himself at the last moment.
Pointing a finger at the still departing Yamcha with such intensity and force that had it been a weapon it surely would have killed the bandit.
"You think this is over?! That you can just walk away? Even if fail, King Gurumes will find you and take back what's his."
Grabbing at the hood of the roadster pulling himself up by it. Rubber-like legs threatening to give out from beneath him as he rested his weight against the car. Hatred and fiery contempt for the man in front of him giving him strength when he body desperately wanted to collapse. Wicked face twisted into a glowering sneer fully expecting the young bandit to wilt at the dreaded name.
"The desert makes kings out of many men and dispatches most just as quickly." Came Yamcha's unimpressed response." Besides it might be fun. Never fought a king before. What do you think Puar? Yamcha, the King-slayer? Has a nice ring to it?"
Turning his head to glance at his nodding companion. Ignoring Lern who pushed himself up right, his entire body trembling from the effort. Beads of sweat forming on his brow as he pushed through the fading paralysis. A knotted hand grasping at the crumpled holster for his pistol. Unaware of Mort appearing from behind him.
"You are indeed an insolent worm. I will enjoy seeing you put to the lash and worse-huh?" Lern gasped feeling Mort's bony arms encircling around him.
Binding his arms against his side in a crushing bear hug. The Executioner son's face turning a sickly, dead grey. Almost seeming to rot on the bones as Yamcha watched. Voice an oily hiss as he leaned in close to the struggling Lern whispering in the man's ear.
"H-Hungry….s-s-s-so h-h-hungryyyyyy!" He cried, a pleading sob and gleeful promise, bending his head along the other man's neck.
Drawn to the coursing blood of his artery which sprayed out between his digging jaws as he clumped down. Ignoring his father's fearful cries as the Executioner ran, well more like waddled, after his son. Attacking it like a feral wolf ripping a blood chunk loose between his teeth happily chewing the gory morsel as Lern went slack in his arms. Ignoring hot, wet pulsing streams of blood which soaked the pale Ghoul's face a horrible scarlet. Flesh vanishing down his gullet just as his father reached him. A fat, pudgy hand roughly grabbing at his shoulder turning him away as Lern slipped from his grasp before the sweeping edge of Khung's backhand connected with Mort's face with the force of a bullet.
"What's wrong with you, have you lost all leave of your senses?!" Khung accused hitting his son again, just as hard.
Cartilage splintering, breaking under the heavy-set man's blows deforming his son's bleached face. A sunken and bent nose of which he barely seemed to notice staring docilely at Khung for a moment before those opaque, sickly things wavered. Blood smeared lips contorting in fear and horror.
"F-F-Father…run!" He gasped, each word a struggle, as the last vestige of sanity burned away.
Face becoming that of a snarling beast as, ignoring his son's warning, the Executioner hit him a third time. Blood, mostly Lern's, slung from the blow landing in ruby droplets over the ground. Even more blood spilt as Mort rolled his head back with a long, drawn out cracking of his neck muscles, tilting his head to one side then the other, before sinking his teeth catching Khung's slung hand. Shock and surprise showing on the Executioner's face as his son pressed down snapping the outer two most fingers loose in a shower of scarlet blood.
Stumbling backwards Khung screamed ripping his bleeding hand free from between his son's jaws. More precious lifeblood raining down sprinkling at the gluttonous man's dusty feet as he scrambled backwards stumbling. Fearfully twisting his bulk out of reach sprinting with a waddling gait from the creature his son had become. Blood already on fire as it carried the curse through his body. Running through the encampment into the open desert slowly vanishing from sight.
Ferally sniffing the air, Mort towered unsteadily over the cooling body of his employer. Looking down at him before discarding it, stepping towards the two thieves. Rather than fear, the headstrong youth regarded the thing with more curiosity than anything. Calmly walking out in front of the roadster into its path.
"Well that's certainly a new one. What do you think, Puar? Maybe he'll be a little more a challenge." Yamcha asked her ignoring as the thing grabbed at him.
"I really don't think that's what you should be worried about." The catgirl sighed with annoyance.
Sliding over the driver's side towards him leaning over the edge. White tee shrinking down against her large, around breasts bubbling upwards pressed from underneath by the car's railing.
A creature neither at home in Man's downtrodden, technocratic world or the long abandoned more wondrous, jaundiced age which had preceded it, it was the young thief's boyish naivety and wanderlust for glory and adventure which had first drawn her to him. But she sometimes wished he had the sense to recognize danger when he saw it.
Her concern falling on deaf ears as, winking at her, Yamcha almost casually reached over his shoulder drawing his sword out in a whisper-crack of blinding steel cleaving apart the air. A single stroke carving down through Mort's face. The Ghoul stopping his slow, ponderous advance at the biting touch of steel across his cranium. Slicing through flesh and skull of the creature before returning it in the same flourished motion. Pommel sliding against the leather and iron of his sheath as the transfixed Mort's skull slide apart. Greasy tendrils of gray matter spilling out from the upper half of the skull as it fell to the ground.
"Heh. Guess that was a no, then." The bandit thief laughed.
Ever confident. Turning back to the car as the remains of his opponent fell sinking across the sands. Reaching behind her to move the clinking bag from her seat, Puar moved back to making room for Yamcha as he lifted and swung himself into the driver's seat.
"I'm serious through. You could have been hurt." She pressed him not wanting to let this go." Not knowing what it was capable of."
"You know if I got into any real trouble I'd just have pulled out my panted Wolf Fang Fist and flattened it." He tried to assure her.
Reaching over and running his hand beneath her cap ruffling her soft, brown hair much to her annoyance. Or so she acted. Trying not to show how much she blushed as she felt his fingers run along her ear tickling.
"S-Stop that. I mean it!" She said, face a blushing hue, pulling away from him. "And it was still really reckless, Yamcha. Someone put a nasty hex on that boy, Bast alone knows what other booby traps they implanted in him."
His body reeking of enchantments of the foulest, blackest kind. Nor was it the watered down spellcraft employed by the few remaining conjurers hiding among the modern world but the old magic, vibrant and strong.
"If this King Gurumes has the employ of a sorcerer who can fashion a spell like that then he's certainly trouble." Puar warned him." We need to be careful."
The throaty roar of the car's engine rumbling to life, head lamps shining their yellow gaze across the deserted encampment. Tires squelching as they rolled backwards turning around in a haze of raising dust. Speeding back along a different route which had brought them here from evil Obrac.
"What we need to do is charge that old witch extra for having to deal with that Jiangshi-wannabe. Remember if she asks, it was twelve feet tall with bloody talon-claws." Yamcha suggested causing her to roll her eyes.
Hearing the pounding at his door Colonel Silver sighed as he rolled over sinking into a king sized bed which felt too soft to his taste. Even through the hazy delirium of alcohol his body yearned for the marital discipline of the Red Ribbon barracks some fifty miles outside the city's walls. Certainly no one there would have been stupid enough to interrupt him like this.
"Better be important." He grumbled sitting up with rather more effort than he cared to admit.
Holding a hand to the side of his face to steady the pounding in his head, the mirror to the louder banging against his hotel door. Fingers slipping through his spiky, reddish hair. Hard, stony face grimacing slightly as he silently swore he'd never drink again, no matter how agreeable the company was.
Sheets of the bed flowing downward from his shoulders exposing his naked, bronze chest covered with scars of old victories. More recent scratches, still raw and fresh, visible down his muscular back. Moving to get out of bed the mercenary Colonel raised one eyebrow at the curvy blonde figure beside him who pressed pushing him back down.
"Who said I was done with you?" Hasky whispered sliding on top of him.
Warm, inviting sex rubbing against his thigh as she straddled over him. Swollen lips parting slightly, shimmering nectar leaking out over his leg as she rose over him. Folding an arm behind her head sticking out her chest which dangled in front of Silver's face. Large, pale white globes which slowly bounced up and down as she ran a finger up between sliding through her cleavage. Slowly working its way up to her red lips which wrapped sucking the digit off as it sunk past her second knuckle.
"Hasky…the door." He attempted half-heartedly, the pounding growing louder.
Following his gaze, Hasky smiled. Rolling her hips pressing down against his body as she swiveled it back and forth. Sliding over from between his legs as she leaned over him. Her curly, blonde hair tickling him as it rained down around his face and head. Any protest dying against her sweet tasting lips. The effects of the evening drinking returning in full force worming his lover's mouth open. Tongue sliding between as it fought with her own pink muscle.
"They can wait." She said as the kiss ended.
Moaning as she felt his rough, calloused hands squeezing the silky smooth skin of her waist. Cradling her in his strong, powerful hands as she rose back up. Her own slender, white fingers sliding over his tanned ones guiding them upwards along her body. Directing them to hold her overfilling breasts. Spilling out over the sides as his kneading fingers sunk and molded her jiggling flesh. Seeping out, bulging from between as he cupped and lifted rolling them together.
"Damn it woman! I don't…" He protested turning into a rumbling moan.
Watching the woman sway above him grinding against his growing cock. Hearing her throaty gasp as its swollen head first parted between her silky lips sliding inside her sacred tunnel. Helped by her eager bucking against the throbbing organ.
"Really?" She said over the growing beating against the door." Because this says differently."
Rising upwards on his shaft nearly drawing it out of herself before plunging back down hard enough to draw a surprise grunt from the man underneath her. Shaft shooting upwards stretching out her straining lips as she slapped against his base. Muscles tightening, squeezing the invading, monstrous cock as it pushed up through her. The sensation along with him fondling her bouncing tits nearly enough to drive her over the edge there. Her resulting pleasurable cry interrupted by the splintering of wood. A carbuncle covered, rusting blade appearing skewered through the door from the other side. Hacking at the disintegrating door which collapsed beneath the gamy, hunched owner of the rancid blade. A single, febrile eye staring out from the tattered flesh-clinging skull as the thing stepped backwards allowing the Ghouls cloistered around it like children to advance into the room.
"Oh fuck me. Really?" Was Hasky's annoyed response.
Bucking her hips she reached down catching Silver's wrist as he tried to grab the pistol on the nightstand. His cock twitching inside of her as she tightened like a vise around it squeezing compliance from him.
"Don't you dare fucking stop!" She whispered in his ear.
Her hot breath tickling his skin as she licked running her pink tongue along the outer edge of his earlobe. Sucking on the tip of it, feeling him pump his cock obediently into her sex.
"Good boy." She moaned flipping the pillow beside his head aside.
Whipping back around as she rose, curvy thighs squeezing around Silver, with a pair of black matted Beretta 93's with extended clips. Pressing the round, black tip of the muzzle into the forehead of one Ghoul. Wedging the second upwards into the mouth of another. The two just stopping transfixed for confused by the sudden sensation of cold steel stuck into them for the barest instant either still had brains. Two loud bursts shredding the back of their skulls out as the bouncing woman swiveled targets.
"Fuck me!" She gasped feeling Silver's hands wrap around the small of her back like an iron bar.
Holding her down against his thrusting cock threatening to split her apart. Fingers gripping the plump, round cheeks of her ass for leverage holding onto her. Creamy, white crescents turning a bright red from where he grabbed. Cheeks bulging outward between his groping palms.
Springing back into shape as he let go with one hand, roaming upwards along her back. Spreading fingers tracing along her flesh pushing her forward thrusting her heaving bosom into his raising face. Billowing, contorting around his lantern-jaw face as he kissed them. Bouncing her harder against him as he singled one out. Mouth parting as he slowly traced his tongue around the outside of her nipple, curling around the small, pink bud as he pulled it into his warm mouth.
Nearly causing her to miss as she continued to fire against the advancing Ghouls. Jaw and side of the face of one peeling away as it staggered backwards. Bubbling growl escaping from his ruined mouth as its head reeled its way forward. Its brethren's' exploding to either side of it as a panting Hasky wrapped one arm around her lover's neck. Smoking pistol resting against his shoulder as he pulled him tighter against the bubbling tit he wolfishly tried to fit inside his sucking mouth. Her sex on fire, nectar coating the inside of her thighs as she bucked grinding against her lover's burning loins. Feeling him quicken beneath her, two of the nearing their climax.
Leveling her shaking pistol as she writhed on top firing a second time and a third knocked the Ghoul backwards again. Back of his shoulder rupturing in a spray of infected, congealed blood. The final burst demolishing the thing's face hollowing out its skull only for its lifeless body to be smashed aside by the rushing form of the Cyclopes.
Whirling the toxic, flaking sword behind its misshapen body as it lunged towards the two lovers careening it downward in a killing stroke. The diseased weapon, dispelling a cloud of miasma from the bony arm which wielded it, whistling through the parting air.
Releasing Silver, crying out in rapture, Hasky reacted faster bringing her pistols up against the descending arm. Hot steel blistering and scarring the mottled, gangrene flesh sloughing off the fetid limb.
"Yes. Yes. Yesssss!" She screamed pulling the trigger with each shout.
Ejected casings spiraling behind her in smoky contrails as she blasted chunks apart through the rancid arm severing it apart. Clawed fingers going slack falling from the cracked, lichen covered handle of the now aimless short sword. Where it was snatched from the air by Silver and, buried cock erupting deep inside Hasky's womanly core, turned back around shoved upwards through the filthy thing's bony face and eye. Putrid thing popping in a squirt of dank ichor as he shoved it all way through its brain. Blinded Cyclopes falling backwards with a heavy thud. Body, along with its loathsome weapon, already starting to dissolve.
Spreading her arms apart, Hasky allowed the spent magazines to fall from beneath her two pistols. Tossing the emptied weapons at the head of the bed where they'd been hidden. Expertly tightening and loosening the muscles in her sex milking the last few drops from the still spurting cock. Ropy strands of salty cum coating her massaging walls.
"That…may have been the best one yet." She informed him with a dreamy expression draping herself over Silver as she nibbled playfully at his neck." Now we're done, I think."
"Hmmmph." Silver commented, face unreadable, shifting out from underneath her as he reached for his own gunbelt on the stand." I think we have work to do."
Adrenalin and thrill of combat erasing the effects of his hang over as he rose moving in front of the open and the darkened hallway beyond. Where shadowy shapes moved and lurked.
"You have work to do." Hasky replied reclining back against the bed.
Producing a cigarette from somewhere as she held up an equally mysterious lighter the queen of thieves flicked it open. Flickering yellow flame igniting the end as she puffed.
"I was hired to steal dragonballs. Not fight some Walking Dead rejects. Think King Gurumes having second thoughts on our deal?" She asked, reluctantly getting up as well.
Walking over to the window overlooking the hotel courtyard pulling back the curtain. The moon's silver light seeping down on the adobe and brick patio where guests could enjoy the cool of the evenings. Revealing the blood washed stones and torn bodies spread about. More caught and hung trying to climb over the concrete walls which shielded guests from seeing the blighted, sprawling tenement buildings and slums which comprised most of the city.
Behind her Silver moved opening his footlocker carefully removing his weapons laying them out across the bed. Quickly getting dressed through, much to his annoyance, into civilian guise rather than his uniform.
"Possible, but I doubt it. Too random and destructive. Even for him." Silver said after a moment's pause.
Strap of a submachine gun around his shoulder as he hefted it up slapping a drum into it from underneath.
"In any event, it doesn't matter. We're tasked with retrieving the dragonball by any means necessary." He said with icy determination." If the entire city is in chaos, it's all the easier."
"Forget easy… sounds like it'll be a good fucking time." Hasky smiled as she turned back around. "And you know how I feel about those."
Exhaling as she stabbed the end of her cigarette out into the edge of a table. Flicking it away afterwards. Walking over to his side as she picked up her crumpled clothes from the floor.
"But that pesky runt you work for is going to pay me extra for this. Like Private Island extra. I do have a reputation to worry about after all."
Waking from a dusky dream Jagreen Lern sat up from the desert floor reaching a hand across to his throat. Feeling the wound seal and knit itself closed under his fingers. Half-remembered images slipping through the cloudy fog of his brain of him kneeling at the feet of a colossal figure bathed in shadows. Seated upon a ruby throne hewed from a single giant gemstone the color of fresh blood.
"A favor for a favor." The being had spoken in a booming voice like nails dragged across the darkest marble.
Both an offer and a warning as Lern had stood baring his chest towards the seated figure just as Lern did now. Rising quickly with growing vigor and strength as he tugged apart his billow shirt exposing the now scarred over emblem dug into his flesh by the eldritch specter niter coated nail. A brand marking his allegiance to the Forgotten One, the lost old god which had once ruled these lands. And would do so again.
Above, among the canvas of shining stars, burned a murderous bauble of crimson. The Makyo Star. Still far away and small but growing brighter with each night. Awakening the old magic as it drew near. Such as his Master's.
"Praise be the Demon-King." Lern whispered, hearing a noise, swiftly turning to confront it.
Facing a Ghoulified Khung, black blood dripping from his injured hand, who hesitated confused. Animal fury of his shrunken mind struggling with an unexpected, alien impulse. Almost instinctively Lern reached out with his mind to expand this impulse twisting the child of Nergal to his own ends. The Ghoul growing more docile as he tenderly stroked its pale cheek.
"Amazing. Now…kneel before me." He commanded.
Watching as the living corpse, unsteadily, dropped to its knees. Vacant, milky eyes raised to Lern's as he smiled triumphantly. Feeling a heady rush over his follower. The first of many that were to come. Casually glancing at the remains of Mort and the tire tracks showing where the two thieves had escaped too. Feeling only the slightest annoyance at being denied the pleasure of his revenge against the Executioner's son.
"Now come. We have much to do." He said starting for Obrac.
Khung, after a long moment, slowly rising to shuffle after Jagreen Lern like a faithful hound. Which, in a matter of speaking, Lern supposed he was.
"We must release the Forgotten One from his prison. But first…there's the matter of that insolent desert thief." He hissed, cholera rising at his humiliating defeat.
Flo436: Hmmm...I haven't really thought that far ahead but I like the idea. And if anyone else likes the idea of a gender-flip of Vegeta or the other Saiyans please let me know in a review. Or if you don't like the idea as well. Not that is any rush at my current rate. ^^
As for Bulma, yes she's going to appear. Both because I just love her character, she's my number 1 waifu, and because someone has to alert our heroes about the existence of these magical, wish-granting orbs.
As for the size, it will contain at minimum Saya, Rei, Kyoko, Saeko, Shizuka, Yuriko and likely Rika for Takashi. Misuzu and Toshimi for Hirano.
Derpmaster9000: Thank you for your kind words and hopefully I didn't let you down too much with the fan service in this installment.
And yes, I agree absolutely with you about Tien. Going into this, beyond of course the boobies, I really wanted this to be the human's time to shine.