December 16, 1912

James was now in San Francisco, specifically an area known as Japantown. It was here that he rented a hotel room until the 22nd under the assumed name of William Lee. He hid his guns in his luggage, and as he sat down on his bed in his room, he counted all the money he had intended on converting into Yen, the Japanese currency. "Alright," he told himself as he finished counting. "That's $1,500. That's about all I got left." As he put the money away in a smaller briefcase, he took a deep breath and wondered to himself, "I'm going to an unfamiliar country where I doubt anyone I'll run into speaks any English, Spanish, or French, and I'll have to sneak guns in while carrying a massive amount of cash with me. What the hell could possibly go wrong, right?"

A few minutes later, James walked into a bookstore in Japantown, immediately browsing the titles on the shelves. A woman with black hair in her late 20s, who was clearly herself Japanese asked him in a slight accent, "Welcome! Do you need any help, sir?"

"I'm lookin' for a few books on Japanese," he told her as he approached the front counter. "I'm travelin' to Japan soon on business, and I wanna brush up on it."

"I see," the woman replied. "We have quite a few books on Japanese for those who want to learn. I must ask, do you speak anything other than English?"

"I speak German," James replied in fluent Standard German. "My mother was born in Swabia. It's a region in Lower Germany. I can speak both regular German and the Swabian dialect." He then switched to Mexican Spanish. "I also can speak Spanish from my travels to Mexico. The locals say that my Spanish sounds much like theirs, and when I went to Cuba or spoke to people in Florida in Spanish, they thought I was a Mexican at first." Finally, he switched up again, this time to Quebecois French. "And finally, I picked up French in Canada. Again, people from France think I'm Canadian when I talk to them in French." With that, he switched back to English, chuckling. "You probably don't understand a word I said."

"Afraid not," the woman replied with a laugh. "But it's good that you can speak multiple languages. It should make learning Japanese easier. Plus, many of the upper class businessmen in Japan can understand some German or English. Let me grab you a few books." She then walked away from the front counter to grab several titles that she thought would help him as he looked around. "Do you want just educational stuff, or do you want some regular books, too, sir?"

"Both," he replied. "Poetry would be nice."

"You're in luck," she replied as she returned with six books. "Japanese is a good language for poetry. Alright, these six books will cost you about $10. A pretty hefty price, but it will be very useful for you."

"No problem," he replied as he gave her a ten dollar bill. "This should cover it. Thank you."

December 22, 1912

James had managed to get all of his supplies, including his guns, onto the ship that would take him to Japan with no problems at all. The authorities had been successfully fooled into thinking he was a man named Abraham Grant. He had used up the last of the money he had that was not converted to Yen to get a comfortable second-class room for the voyage, which would take five weeks and would have a stop in Honolulu to both drop off and pick up passengers and cargo. As he unpacked his luggage in his room, he took a deep breath and remarked, "Now, time to see if I'm seasick or not. Those trips up and down the Mississippi River were alright back in the day. This should be no different." He plopped down onto his bed and read one of the books he had bought from the bookstore, wanting to practice more of his Japanese. He said to himself in the language, "Hello. My name is James Colby. What is your name? What is your name? How are you? I am well."

"Are you speaking Japanese?" A voice in English from outside then called to him, making him realize he had not shut the door to his cabin. "It does not sound bad."

"Shit," James exclaimed as he jumped slightly from fright before looking over to the doorway and seeing a man who looked Japanese staring back at him. "Um, yes, I was speakin' Japanese. I'm travelin' to Japan, and I'm brushing up on it."

"I see," he replied in English. "If you ever need practice, you can find me at Room 2C-124. My name is Hideyoshi Hirasawa, or Hirasawa Hideyoshi in the name order we use in my home country, where we place family names first." He then switched to Japanese. "Can you understand me?"

"Yes," James replied back in turn in Japanese.

"Good," he replied. "Have a fun cruise. We'll be out to sea for six weeks."

As he walked away, James not understanding much of what else he had told him, he quickly got back to reading, telling himself, "I gotta fuckin' hurry up. I couldn't understand a lot of what else he told me."

...

January 10, 1913

James' ship had arrived in Honolulu on this day, and would stop in the city for three days until it left on January 13 to go to Japan. The cruise had been peaceful for James, and every day, he would practice with Mr. Hirasawa, who was a businessman, for at least an hour or two. He decided to use these three days in Honolulu to walk around and explore the island, maybe killing a demon or two as well. So far, nobody on the ship had caught onto him, with the only peculiar thing being his desire to ensure that any red meat he had still had blood in it.

As he walked in an area just outside of the city by himself around the start of night time, having just finished a meal of his own consisting of an animal, its blood being able to sustain him for a rather long time, he kept his eye out for any demons. He knew there were some in the Hawaiian Islands, but he had no idea how many there were. Then, as he rounded a street corner onto a dirt road at an intersection with a paved road, he heard human screams in the distance. "Huh? What the hell is that?" As he looked in the distance, he pulled out a lantern hanging from his belt and lit it with a match, stamping the match out once he tossed it onto the ground. It was almost pitch black out, and as he continued down the road, he heard the screams get louder. He decided around this time to also pull his revolver out from his holster in case anything jumped at him, human or demon.

In the distance, as he began to approach what looked to be a house, he heard discernible words come from the screams. "Oh my God! Stop eating him! What are you doing?! Stop eating my husband, you madman!"

As he heard those words, he immediately put his torch back on his belt and pulled his shotgun out, holstering his revolver. He then went into a full sprint towards the house, anticipating a demon. "Shit, that's a fuckin' demon!" When he approached the house, he kicked the door down with a single blow and yelled into the house, "Get a taste of lead, fucker!"

The demon, a man with red and white hair, turned around, blood pouring from its mouth after it had bitten into a dead man's corpse. "Who the Hell are you supposed to be?! I'm eating a meal here!" He then growled at James as he looked over his face and eyes. "Have you come to steal my prey?!"

"I'm your end," James yelled back before firing a round of wisteria buckshot from his shotgun, striking the demon in multiple places and causing him to scream out in pain. "Is that all you got, bimbo?! Think you're some fuckin' tough guy?! Your meal just got cut off!" As he got up and ran towards him, sharpening his claw-like nails to rip him apart, James cocked the shotgun again and fired a round of wisteria birdshot at him at close range, causing him to collapse to the ground in front of him with an even louder scream of pain. "There… The poison I put in there should take effect right about… Now!"

The demon spat back, "What fucking position are you talking abo-" He then stopped in the middle of his sentence as he felt a sharp pain all over his body. "Agh, motherfucking cocksucker! What did you fucking do to me?!"

"I coated my shot in wisteria," James explained to him as the demon writhed and moaned in severe pain. "It's lethally poisonous to demons if it gets inside your bloodstream. In other words, y'all are fucked." He then stomped on the demon's head with his boot, causing him to again yell out in pain. "How y'all like the taste of boot, fuckhead?!"

"Damn you," the demon shouted to him as he began to fade away from the poison killing him rather painfully. "Damn you to Hell! I know you're a demon, you traitor! I can see it in your eyes! You're nothing but a fucking traitor to our kind! You'll pay for siding with what's rightfully our prey!" With one final scream, his body faded into dust, leaving only a pool of blood from his various injuries caused by the shotgun blasts. "Damn you…"

"Well," James said as he reloaded his shotgun, the victim's wife cowering in a corner in fear and confusion. "I'm glad he shut the fuck up." He then turned to the woman. "Ma'am, I'm sorry, but your husband is dead. I killed the demon, though. You and whatever children you may have are safe."

The woman cried out, "Oh my God… Eddie, no!" James felt awful for not having come sooner as she ran to her deceased husband's side and hugged his body, which had two major bite marks in it from the demon. "My love! Oh dear Lord, my love!"

January 16, 1913

"Looks like I win," James told Hideyoshi in Japanese as they played a game of cards on the ship. "That's 1 for me and 1 for you."

"Your Japanese is getting better by the day," Hideyoshi replied as he shuffled the deck of cards they were using. "I am impressed, Colby-san." Hideyoshi then switched to English. "Tell me, James, why is it that you're going to Japan, again?"

"On business," he assured him. "I used a different name to go on the ship since our company's competitors are doing some corporate espionage against us, and I don't want them knowing I'm going to Japan."

Hideyoshi then set his cards down that he had just drawn from the deck. "James, I know for a fact that isn't necessarily true. I'm not what you Americans would call a 'ding-bat.' In other words, I am not a fool."

James immediately set his hand down as well as thoughts raced through his head, realizing his lie had been caught. "Fuck, he found me out. What does he know about me, though?" "Well, I should tell you the truth, then."

"You are an oni," Hideyoshi then told him, sending shockwaves down James' spine. He gave a smile as he realized he had James cornered. "A demon. Many in the urban cities of Japan do not think they are real, but I know they are. I've never seen a demon that could walk in the sun, though. Now, tell me what you're really going to do in Japan. You know that they have the Demon Slayers Corps, and they do not discriminate when it comes to killing your kind."

James sighed as he realized he knew everything. "Well, Mr. Hirasawa, you're right. I am a demon. In North America, most of us can walk in the daylight at the cost of losing many of our inhuman abilities during the day since our body removes much of our superhuman strength to keep itself alive. Essentially, I am just slightly above-average compared to the normal man during the day. I also cannot heal properly during the day, so I'm easier to kill." He then drew his revolver from his semi-formal jacket that he had worn and placed it on the table. "I'm setting my sidearm down. I use this, a rifle, and a shotgun, as well as knives, to kill members of my own kind."

"A demon hunting demons," Hideyoshi remarked to himself. "How unusual. I am surprised you are not dead. Surely, your Progenitor should have been able to control you and kill you remotely."

"I was freed from my curse," James explained to him. "A man named Ezekiel Smith, or Zeke, who hunted demons took me in. He was a Negro, a former slave. He gave to me a book of spells that many of the Negro demon hunters in America who practice voodoo magic use. One complicated spell that don't always work is the Progenitor Curse Destruction Spell. There was only a one in four chance of it workin' on me, and a three in four chance of it killin' me. Now, lemme ask you this. Why do you know so much?"

"My brother was a Demon Slayer," Hideyoshi explained. "He died when we were only teenagers. Their work is unrecognized by our government, even though they're a well-organized paramilitary organization, even more so in the era of modernization in Japan. A demon ripped him to shreds. He left behind a pregnant girl in our town who he wanted to marry, even though her father wanted her married to someone else. The kid and her later died in childbirth when she was only 15. Ever since, I've hated your kind." He then went silent in his chair, letting James think over his words.

"I would, too," James then replied after 20 seconds of waiting patiently and thinking over a response. "I hunt demons who go after humans. One of them killed my human wife, my demon son, and my unborn child. He was not the same as the two who murdered my entire platoon in the Civil War, though. I know who they are, and I'm going to Japan to hopefully find and kill both of them." Hideyoshi, confused, looked at him like he had two heads. "Ah, right. The Jackson Brothers don't make their demons infertile. We can and do have children with both demons and humans. With a human wife, any male children of mine are demons like me, and any female children of mine are humans. They allegedly gave demons this ability so they could rape both women and men to create more offspring to either be eaten if they're humans or added to our kind's ranks if they're demons."

Hideyoshi nodded, amazed at the differences. "Your demons are so very unique. Very unique."