AN: This will be one of the two concurrent sequels for my fanfiction 'For All Debts Public and Private', along with 'Like a Dragon of the Darkness Flame'. As with 'Like a Dragon of the Darkness Flame', 'Maynila Confidential' takes place in the summer of 2007, somewhat less than a year after 'For All Debts Public and Private', which in itself is a post-canon story that takes place nine years after the conclusion of the second demon world tournament and twelve years after the conclusion of the Yu Yu Hakusho anime.

Hope you enjoy it!

I always wanted to be a cop, just like my dad. Sure, maybe at first I told him 'Daddy, I'm going to be a firefighter when I grow up'. Oh his friends got a kick out of that. When I was twelve, I told him I wanted to join the army. Fight the Moro terrorists in Mindanao. Hunt down the communist fanatics in the eastern barangays. He looked so proud, even took me to the police firing ranges, let me shoot from his Beretta 92 pistol. I was so skinny back then, still am I guess, and when I squeezed the trigger for the first time, I let the gun recoil back and slam into my face, cracking the right lens of my glasses. My mom got so frightened that she yelled at my dad that I'm going to be a lawyer and that's final.

When I was fifteen, I wanted to form a biker gang with my friends. We all probably watched a few too many Rudy Fernandez movies. Kind of ironic in hindsight. Well, one day, my dad caught me in my room with half-rolled, foul smelling weed. He took his belt and beat the shit out of me. I was so terrified and in such pain, him whipping me, my mom screaming at him to stop, my right leg bleeding everywhere, that I jumped out the window of our old 3rd floor apartment, back in La Loma, in old Quezon. I broke through the glass and landed on razor wire. I still shudder at the pain I felt back then. There I was, sure I was going to bleed to death, flickering in and out of consciousness, with the La Loma cemetery right in front of me, the long white wall with the flower murals, as if that was my next stop. I was in the hospital for a week, lost so much blood. They reported it as 'me causing an accident'. No one said a word about the weed.

When I graduated high school, I listened to my mom and put my good grades and my dad's saved up piso towards an undergrad degree at San Beda. Political science major, double minor in philosophy and psychology. As if I was on a fast track for Congress. The San Beda law school was next on the list, and I kept my nose to the grindstone, stayed out of trouble, studied like my future depended on it. My aunt always said I'm a really smart guy. A really smart boy, smart teen, and eventually I think both my parents started thinking that I could break through the next level. Well, month before undergrad graduation, things happened. Things clicked, maybe I understood things about myself. And as soon as I collected my undergrad diploma, I tossed my rental graduation gown into the collection bin, and I walked right into the Maynila police station in San Nicolas, my police station, my dad's old police station, and I slammed my diploma on the old station sergeant's desk and I demanded that 'Benny Molina's skinny son with the glasses gets a job interview'.

And here I am now, homicide detective, talking to myself, having a monologue, while I try to wrap my head around another Tondo-manufactured modern art masterpiece. Dressed in my usual officer blues uniform, my police hat left back in my desk, I adjust my glasses and review my notes once again. Thirty-five year-old Felix Maralit. Bricklayer, employed by a firm operating on Delpan street. Married, no children. Wife, aged twenty-nine, named Pelagia, maiden name Liwanag. Found hacked to death in their home by their neighbor, a Cesar Miranda, who peered through his window and found her severed head on the kitchen counter. Officers Evangelista and Catubig from the Recto avenue police station secured the scene, finding Maralit naked and covered in blood in his bathtub, a blood soaked machete placed behind the toilet, poorly hidden. Evangelista reported that Maralit babbled about seeing 'winged blood-sucking demons', that God has fallen, that Satan's kingship over all mankind is upon us, and that the Antichrist is a pale woman that heralds the end of times. That Mrs. Maralit's soul needed to be liberated from her tainted body. Thirty minutes later, I arrived on the scene along with my partner, Detective Marlon Carvajal. No signs of robbery or forced entry. Urine and blood samples sent to the lab for analysis have returned with no signs of narcotics use. Very mild alcohol levels, about equal to a single beer.

I place my notepad in my left armpit, and I reach into my shirt and retrieve my golden crucifix. Gently clutching the crucifix within my right fist, I bring my mouth toward my fist and I pray to my Lord Almighty Jesus Christ to see me through the conversation I am about to make, and endure. Sighing, I hide my crucifix back inside and under my blue officer shirt, adjust the chain slightly for comfort, and I enter into the interrogation room. Felix Maralit's eyes dart toward my direction. He remains wordless. He did not resist us when we washed him down with a firehouse. Neither did he resist when we gave him black boxers and black basketball shorts to wear. His hands remain elevated, fashioned to a hook on his right by the wall, secured with handcuffs. He did not resist when we forced him at gunpoint to put on clothes, when we removed the handcuffs temporarily to chain him to the wall. Carvajal was very eager to free the taxpayers from the costs of a trial. Recent events have made him especially distraught, and Carvajal was given paid-time-off to leave early today. It's a nice sunny July day, might do him some good.

I seat myself before this monster that I must treat as a man. I set my notepad on the desk separating the two of us, and I activate the overhead lamp, the ornery yellow lighting causing the half-naked Maralit to blink and slightly recoil. His bald spot is particularly illuminated, akin to the hood of a freshly washed car on a bright summer day, like today. I speak in Tagalog "Felix Maralit, aged thirty-five, living in Tondo with his deceased wife Pelagia. Employment with Golden Crescent Construction, on Delpan. One prior citation for drunk and disorderly conduct, one arrest for unpaid parking tickets."

I wait for him to say something, and he just glares at me soullessly, as if his spirit was swallowed by Satan himself, and all that remains is a hollow husk. I wait. Wait for him to say something.

At least fifteen minutes have passed, and I find myself somewhat hungry. Without saying a word, I collect my notepad and exit the interrogation room. Closing the door, I approach the vending machine just across from the room. I think I will have…a LALA. 39.90 piso. Why are we still dealing with centavos? I remove four nickel and bronze 10 piso coins from my back pocket, push Mabini and Bonifacio into the coin slot, and press F3. A copper ten centavo coin rolls out of a coin chute, beating the chocolate bar in the race. I scoop the coin out and pocket it, and then lean down and retrieve the chocolate bar, taking pains to not drop my notepad. Walking toward the water cooler to the left of the vending machine, I take a paper cup and fill it full.

Returning to the interrogation room, I lock the door and slowly remove the red edges of the wrapper. Maralit's eyes track my every move. Sipping on my water, I methodically break off a corner of the chocolate bar and put it in my mouth. Chewing slowly, letting the chocolate melt in my mouth slightly, I take another sip of water, and repeat the process, breaking the other corner of the bar. Placing the corner in my mouth, I again chew slowly, and Maralit now appears ready to speak a word.

"Why haven't you killed me yet?" he speaks in Tagalog. I chew my chocolate slightly faster, taking another sip of water. Swallowing, I say "Our esteemed and God-fearing president Arroyo has outlawed capital punishment last year." Maralit blinks and speaks "You know what I mean." I don't respond to his statement. Reaching for the edge of the chocolate bar, I break off a tiny sliver. He appears to grow annoyed, frustrated perhaps. As I bring the sliver to my mouth, Maralit speaks "You would be doing me a favor."

Pausing the fate of the sliver of chocolate, I ask "Why do you say that?" His face contorts to that of anger, and he replies "Is it a confession you want?" "That would be nice, but with the plethora of evidence we have, I think the judge will sentence you to life in Bilibid just fine without it." "Then what the fuck do you want with me?" "Hm, I could pass this off to the district attorney, as is, who will prosecute you to the full extent of the law, as she is expected to do. You will face life imprisonment, likely placed in general population, and I would not hold out much hope for a parole board hearing. I fully expect your defense attorney to raise an insanity defense, but that is between you and your counsel. Truly? I am more interested in some of the statements you made in the presence of arresting officers Evangelista and Catubig. These 'winged blood-sucking demons'. The Antichrist being this pale woman."

I place the sliver of chocolate in my mouth, as Maralit sighs, not breaking eye contact aside from his blinking. I chew slowly, and Maralit speaks "My eyes flashed, and it is as if I was swallowed into a new realm of hell, one thought up of only in our craziest nightmares. I…I saw things, heard things. There is a world out there! And these demons! They are here, already! It's too late, they will make meals of us. Every, single, one of us. You think that little badge you have will save you?! I…I…fucking hell man."

Demons. I've seen them too. Large, small, all savage. Only I see them. Just me. Me, and this wife-killing animal before me. Demons. Some winged. Some cat-like, some serpent like, some large and with horns. Demons, nothing more than a product of my mind, addled by my Catholic faith and my fear of a great and wrathful God. I ask "And that brought you to hack your wife into eight separate pieces?"

Maralit shouts "You want a confession?! Alright! I did it! And I did it cause I saw her! She was covered in this…demonic filth, and I had to separate her body so the evil could escape, or her soul could escape the evil, either or! And if I have to burn in hell for it, then bring it on! Any kind of hell is better than the one that's coming over here for all of us! You don't understand! We are all lambs, walking willingly to the slaughter!"

Nothing more, he stops speaking, just returns to his prior emotionless demeaner. His eyes tracking the movements of my hands. The guilty usually show remorse in a more dramatic way, and a psychopath would either mimic such behavior or respond without this animated emotion. I would instead surmise that I am speaking to a genuine lunatic. I sigh and speak "Very well Mr. Felix Maralit, I will return with a written statement that I will ask you to review and sign. If you wish to review it with your attorney…do you have an attorney?" "Like I can afford one." "Have you contacted the Public Attorney's Office?" "What do you think? I've been handcuffed the entire time." I say "Very well. I will contact them shortly. They will assign you with a public defender at the earliest possible convenience." "Earliest convenience? So I'm going to be stuck to this wall, for how long?" "Of course not, you will be returned to the holding cell, and then transported to the local jail, where a public defender will visit you at the earliest possible convenience. If convicted as is, you will likely be transported to Bilibid proper." "Local jail. Earliest possible convenience…you know what they will do to me there. Might as well shoot me in the head." I say nothing and collect my notepad, water, and partially eaten chocolate bar, and I exit the interrogation room.

Seems I had an audience. Standing just outside the door, our esteemed captain, Gemma Magpale, in her dark blue captains uniform with the shoulder straps designating her rank, a long black skirt covering her belt and legs. Her long black hair overflows out of her blue, red, and black striped police cap, the brass PNP logo almost shining on her cap as if it is an overhead lamp, herself being a third of a meter taller than me, quite tall for a Pinay. Her long hair and religious fervor for police work has brought the department to refer to her as 'Saint Sakay'. In private. Her face does have Sakay's jawline, as if someone placed Sakay's jawline on Lea Salonga. She speaks in Tagalog with her Bisaya accent "Arturo Molina, relentless crusader of justice and paragon of the virtues that makes this fine city known as God's favored and beloved. I feel compelled to bend your ear, and I will bend it out of earshot of the malfeasant threatening the sanctity and sacredness of God's righteous warriors. Follow me."

I let Captain Magpale take me on a pilgrimage to the record room. Inside, shelves of orange evidence boxes, flickering lights overhead, empty aside from the two of us. She turns and speaks "Your shrewdness is to be commended, but I have concerns for your stomach and your ability to digest evil. That satanic heathen surrendered himself to God's mercy, and I find you whispering such words as 'public defender' and 'insanity defense'. The vile wretch practically offered himself for absolution." Captain Magpale does have a particular way with words. I speak "With all due respect, Captain Magpale, the man, as heinous as his crimes may be, is clearly insane. I personally would recommend him being sequestered from general population for his own safety…and the safety of others." Magpale laughs and speaks "Safety…of others. You are a sagacious man, but your empathy is a weakness that must be struck down before it dulls your mind and the tools you use to remind this city that a wrathful and temperamental God exists, and that His work…will be done."

I frown slightly and think of what to say. One has to be cautious in speaking with Captain Magpale. I embarrassingly harken back to my police academy training and I reply "To serve and protect. Service. Honor. Justice. That is our motto as Philippine police officers, and as deplorable his actions are, Mr. Maralit is entitled to that, as a Philippine citizen, just as anyone else." Captain Magpale practically sneers "Entitled? The heathen forfeited all rights when he violated the laws of God, above all else." She pauses, and smiles slightly, and grabs my shoulders with her hands, causing me to drop the notepad in my armpit, to spill a few drops of water from my cup onto the floor. She holds my shoulders as if ready to crush me in her grasp, and adds "Detective Molina, I am simply speaking from a place of experience and God's love. Do not mistake my disappoint for anger. You must harden your soul, lest evil's infectious tendrils seep in and bring your spirit to rot. We have been placed on this earth to protect God's children from the demons that threaten to violate all that is held holy. It is a thankless task, but it is a necessary one."

Most police captains that would talk this way would be laughed out of the station. Quite frankly, I think the majority of the station is terrified of her, as much as they hate to admit so. As if Tomás de Torquemada himself stands before me.

Another pause, and she adds "I am tasking you with joining your fellow detectives from the sex crimes department, to truly see how deplorable these demons are. Detectives Amado Brillantes and Jose Gatchalian. Fraternize with them. Share libations with them. Bring fervor to your police work. That is an order." Brillantes and Gatchalian. Came to the San Nicolas station as part of a group of six forced transfers from Caloocan. After investigations for excessive force and police brutality. And murder. Problem cops shuffled around quietly, the natural response to a scandal that actually draws the attention of the media. She finally lets go of my shoulders and steps away. I reply "Understood Captain. Thank you. I will."

"So Kurama, ready to save Kokou's dumbass nephew?" I say to foxboy, dressed in a yellow shirt, black sweatpants, and sandals. Kurama, wearing a red vest with these weird wavy symbols on it in yellow, dark grey trousers, and sandals, unsheathes his longsword or whatever it's called from the leather holster hanging around his waist, and speaks "I find it more apt to wait for Jin, Chu, and Rinku to complete their surveillance of the region. It is a hostage situation after all." "I mean ready as in, ready to go when you have to. I'm not saying let's go charge in like dumbasses. I've grown up a bit since junior high and high school." "I recall that you never graduated high school." "You know what I meant, Kurama." Bunch of Kokou's people held hostage by this nomadic slaver tribe. Typical day in demon world.

Just great, huh? Kokou's moron nephew Sidura went out to the Tourin/Gandara border for a sex and booze tour with some of his dumbass friends and a crapload of hookers, and the genius got caught by Aizbadin caravanners trying to make a ransom. Kokou said that this group, the Zirakeh, have been a real pain in the ass for the past decade. A lot of raiding and old school bandit stuff. They hit and run, keep moving their camps around. She made foxboy the acting commander or whatever for this thing, and he's in his element for sure. Kurama, scanning his sword's edge, adds "Aizbadins are very adept at uprooting their camps and fleeing at a moment's notice." He puts his sword back in the sheathe, scabbard, whatever it's called, and starts rubbing his fingers on this weird ancient Greek lettering he had etched on it. Some Julius Caesar quote, I forgot. Something about dice.

The two of us are sitting down on a big rock that's on a giant…think it's called a plateau? Dry heat. Always damn hot in this part of Tourin. Like they never heard of seasons. Weird too, since there is like this constant haze in the sky, a mix of blood red and these purple clouds, sometimes streaks of yellow and gold. Like they don't have a sun here or something. How does anything work here? How do they grow stuff here? They got plants here, fruits, vegetables. So weird.

We're looking down on some marble quarry, a lot of desert and these rock formations around us. Kurama said that marble can fetch a good price, even more so the further up north they go. There's like savannah and even rainforests further south and east but nope, they had to make camp in this dry-ass frying pan. I ask "What do you think happened to the rest of them? We only got a notice that Sidura is out for ransom." "I doubt they were killed, but it's possible they were pressed into slavery. Perhaps forced to slave at this quarry." I say "We gotta get them all fast, right?" "Yes. If they scatter, they will grab anything and anyone they could quickly carry away." "So, these are Yomi's people? So weird, he's nothing like these guys." Kurama nods and says "Yomi culturally acclimated to eastern Gandara at a young age. Most of the stag demons that remained in Gandara did so. The Tourin Aizbadins are the ones that refused to abandon their nomadic lifestyles."

They been missing for a week already. Sidura's lucky that Kurama and I were in the area. The shit that happened with Mithradata, the Arrapka siege, the…friends he and those Rakshasa demon assholes killed. Supaku and Mareecha still out here, somewhere. Maybe they went back to the lower levels, planning the next invasion. No chance they scrap it just cause some gorilla waxing poetic about the laws of ancient whatever bit the dust. Kuwabara still keeping his normal life, and I don't blame him. And there's Hiei, who's been trying to do what Kuwabara is doing. Having a life in human world. Trying at least. Guy has zero social skills when it comes to being urban. Keiko's been helping him with the contracting work on this newsstand he's been trying to build, with the money he scammed Kuwabara's bank out of. Still, three eyes and Kuwabara ain't exactly getting any stronger. At least the rest of us, the ones still alive, at least they're staying active.

I say "So, I count twenty-four of these white huts around the giant hole in the desert." Kurama says "As do I. I estimate at least ninety warriors, perhaps a hundred. Our forces will need to properly encircle them, perhaps form a funnel where their steeds may be struck down." Kokou thinks that some of the Zirakeh tribe boss' family is down there. Wants to take hostages of her own, so the rest of the tribe can fuck off with their raids. I take the leather canteen to the left of me, unscrew the cap, and squeeze water into my mouth. I nudge the canteen as Kurama, who takes it and does the same, saying "Thank you."

We got about thirty ogres with spears and shields down below and to the left, with a mixed ogre and tiger demon unit of riders with spears, lances, a few with crossbows. Plan is to have the foot ogres take up the space between the rock we are on and another tall rock formation just to the left of the camp, clog the avenue up. Kurama thinks they'll make a run for that first since it's the route with the smoothest surface for their giant horses. Some of the mounted guys are going to patrol the rear and chase down any that slip through the cracks. The rest of the mounted demons will swing around behind the rock we are on, and then charge into the camp with Kurama and I, and Jin, Rinku, and Chu, wherever the hell they are. Rinku and Chu went out to make sure the north side is safe. We got another thirty foot demons, mix of ogres, tiger demons, and those green scaly Muki demons, like that green goblin guy that Karasu took out in the dark tournament semis. They…yeah they're still there, hiding behind a few rocks to the northwest, they're going to move in and cover the north, and then charge in after we and some of the mounted guys charge in first. Any assholes try to run east, we'll catch up to them. That side is too rocky and uneven for horses, and Jin at least can run them down.

I say "It's a good plan, foxboy. Something from your old days as Yoko? In Gandara, or back in eastern Europe?" "Both. If I was given a choice between knowing the exact position of an opposing army, with no knowledge of the surrounding terrain, or the reverse, I would always select the reverse. Terrain is a curse to the ignorant. By studying it, one can deduce the logical decision making of most armies. Knowing that this is a cavalry-based nomadic culture, terrain plays an even greater role." I smirk at the military tactics lesson that foxboy is giving, and I ask "If it's so obvious, why hasn't Enki kicked these guys asses yet?" Kurama smirks too and says "They call this region their home, and travel from patch of desert to patch of desert frequently. They know this terrain far better than Enki, their technical overlord, would." Taking another gulp of water from the canteen, Kurama turns to look at me, smiles, and adds "It would take men of shrewd tactical cunning to corner and neutralize such a foe." I laugh and say "The view doesn't hurt either." Kurama laughs back and says "Well done Yusuke. You have mastered the art of scouting."

There he is, Mr. Irish himself, Jin. Or to use the ethnic name for his people, Mr. Gvent. From this rain forest and cliffside place called the Principality of Gventles. If I remember from the geography lessons that Hokushin gave me, it's right on the south end of the eastern border, on the Alaric side, sandwiched between the goblin people of the Kollazuyu Confederation, on the Tourin side, and Chu's Yowie demon people in the Kingdom of Wurranga. Wind dude, floating over the edge of the plateau, is in his usual white trousers and x-shaped toga strap thing, and he grew some red chin hair since last year. Rinku is with him, dangling on Jin's left leg. He grew since the first demon world tournament, like a lot, ain't a kid anymore. Hell, he's almost as tall as me now. Still wearing the same dorky getup, just swapped his circus tent hat for a blue razor-edged metal hat that looks like the medium option between Kung Lao's wide hat from Mortal Kombat and that bowler hat from that James Bond movie. Also now is rocking a short-sleeve yellow shirt with a red spiral logo covering almost the entire shirt. And has a bit of chin stubble now. His yo-yos got upgraded last I remember, with razor blades attached to them, and I think he mentioned last month about dipping them in some poison.

Jin shouts in that 'Irish' accented English "Ey Urameshi, a real kip of a military camp, cataphracti shite everywhere. Chu checked the north side, quiet as dew grass. Not a fecker in view, he's waiting for the signal." Gotta say I've gotten a lot better at understanding Jinese. Rinku speaks in Japanese "They do look ready to run off at any moment. No one out getting drunk, the cataphracti all saddled. They have rotating patrol patterns, like several walking in circles around the perimeter of the camp." Kurama asks "Are the cataphracti packed with supplies? What about the non-combatants? Children and elderly? Slaves?" Rinku shakes his head and answers "Maybe one or two of them are carrying gear, and they are just going from the west side of the camp to the quarry in the middle, and back. Maybe one or two kids, no elderly, maybe they are inside the huts. A lot of people working in the quarry, on the lower levels. They…don't look like stag demons, from far away, and they aren't dressed like Aizbadins anyway."

I ask "Kokou is out hunting for family of the clan chief, did you spot any?" Jin shakes his head and says "Can't say I'd recognize the tool's kin, not from afar anyway. Did get close enough to spot a gobshite in gaudy attire, gold lining around that robe and headscarf thing they wear, or looked like gold to me. Fella looked important enough." Kurama speaks "Aizbadins stress frugality in attire, so he must be of some social stature in their clan structure. Where exactly did you see him?" "Southeast corner, that hut, yeah, the one with the smoke seeping from the roof." I ask "Did you see Sidura anywhere?" Jin smiles a bit and says "Ya think I can eyeball that bollox from that far away? Yea, we saw a few pussycats at the bottom of the quarry, but it be like giving ants names. We did see this tunnel cutting into the north, at the bottom of the quarry. A lot of traffic coming in and out."

I say "Alright, think we know enough, let's get this show on the road." I stand up, and watch Jin and Rinku nod and fly down to the bottom. Kurama draws his sword out for real with his right hand, activates his rose in his left hand, turns it into a whip, and I aim my right index finger up in the air and fire off a spirit gun blast. The two of us jump off the edge and run down the side of the plateau rock thing. See the ogre only foot guys move into position on the left, some cavalry moving in behind them. A few arrows get sent and the whole Aizbadin camp is going nuts. Demons in Arabic looking robes and headscarves climbing onto horses. Lot of people. Lot of horses. A few of the huts are getting torn down, some people running around. Near the bottom. The other cavalry on our side is swinging around the right. Jin, Rinku, Kurama, and I, we going to move in with the mounted guys and hit them in the side while they run. We jump off and land on the dirt, desert bottom, and I look ahead. Huh, that's weird. Kurama speaks "They are not fleeing."

I see Rinku with his yoyo's and Jin flying overhead with a green and red striped shield on his arm and a giant cluster of javelins around his back, kicking up dirt and sand along the way. The horse guys, with spears and crossbows and lances, they get ahead of all of us except Jin, and Kurama and I run to keep pace with them. Some of the Aizbadin stag demons are pulling the fabric part of their huts apart, pulling them across in the face of the cavalry, like they're trying to catch and trip up our horses. People screaming, Jin throwing javelins, hear yelling in English, Japanese, languages I don't recognize. Maybe Arabic. Kurama shouts "They are not fleeing, they are reinforcing!" Some of the Aizbadin guys on horseback are riding in circles in front of the quarry, shooting arrows at us, one of them hitting a mounted tiger demon in the neck, knocking her off her cataphracta.

A few mounted stag demons charge at us with their curved swords and small shields. Jin gets the one on the left in the ribs with his javelin, knocking him of his horse, and I square up for the one in the middle. The robed stag demon, her headscarf coming off, showing that it's a lady with a broken antler on the left side of her forehead, kicks up dirt with her giant horse and cocks her sword arm back. I sidestep to the left, dodge the swipe, jump, and pull her off the giant horse, her right ankle stuck to the horse saddle thing, spurs or whatever it's called. We skid along the dirt, her horse dragging us, and she yells "Kiss ommak! Abtaeid iani!" I kinda understand that first part, asshole! Her ankle gets loose from the horse saddle and we roll a bit, and I get to my feet first. She throws her shield at me, which I slap away with my left hand, and she then tries to skewer me with her sword. I aim my right hook, sidestep, and punch her sword along the flat side so hard that it breaks apart, and then turn and grab her face with my left hand. I sweep her left leg with my left, and I drive the back of her head into the ground. She's out, think she's still alive. Kokou wants us to take as many of them alive as we can.

I turn around and find the third of the charging stag demons with Kurama, on his knees and about to…just got cocked in the side of the head with the pommel of his big ass sword. Damn, foxboy cut off the legs of the guy's horse, horse whimpering in pain and bleeding out to the left. I look back at Kurama and "WATCH OUT BEHIND YOU!" I grab a broken spear and toss it at the mounted Aizbadin guy with the lance. Kurama ducks and steps to the right, and I get the asshole in the gut, knocking him off his horse, think it's a he…yea a he, scarf just came off. Bleeding, the stag demon climbs to his knees and reaches for a dagger or knife or something in his belt, and gets his head cut off by Kurama in one swipe, his right hand still in his belt. Headless body falls forward, limp, pouring grey blood. Can't take them all alive.

Jin's javelin helicopter routine is kicking up so much dust it's getting hard to see, like it's almost a sandstorm. The foot ogres finally smarted up and are now pouring into the camp from the rear, while I sidestep a spear thrust from an older stag demon without a headscarf and in a fancier robe, asshole looks like an older Yomi with a gray beard. I grab the spear shaft, pull him in, and give him a good headbutt, knocking the guy out and sending him to the ground. Hit him just hard enough. If he's that old and is fighting back, he must be someone important.

The merry-go-round with the mounted Aizbadins is still going on, they still firing arrows at everything that moves that doesn't have antlers. Kurama just now gets out of one of the intact huts, grey blood on his trousers, and I look left and a huge mass of Aizbadins on foot get into a mosh pit with the foot ogres. Kurama runs to me, and I see Rinku hoping on the huts and throwing his hat and yo-yos around, closer and to the right of quarry. Foxboy taps me on the left shoulder and shouts "With me!" He starts running toward and to the left of the mosh pit and I follow.

We get to the rear of the ogre side of the fighting, and Kurama grabs one of the ogres, two of them…now like seven of them, yanking on the back of their steel breastplates and shouting "WITH ME! THOSE IN FRONT, HOLD THE LINE!" He points at three of the mounted tiger demons, two with spears, one with a crossbow, and waves at them to follow him too. He leads the way, and I follow, with the rest of the guys close behind us. We swing around the left, away from the mosh pit, dust everywhere, and move left of a few huts, like near the western edge of the camp. Bunch of wounded stag demons up ahead, lying and groaning on the ground, one missing an arm and bleeding out, two with arrows and crossbow bolts sticking out of their legs and back. An Aizbadin, think he's a doctor, sees us and draws a slightly curved sword, and one of the mounted Rakshasa spearmen gallops ahead of us, almost running me over. The Rakshasa's giant horse gets a gash along its right side from the Aizbadin's sword, and the mounted spearman swings his horse around with one hand on the reins, and shoves his spear into the doc's throat with the other. His horse gallops a bit, and the spearman carries the stag for a few meters, before the body slides off the spearhead.

We move up, more screaming, more dust, hear more arrows flying overhead, more Jin flying all over the place like a mosquito on coke. The mounted spearman that took out the medic, he waves us over, and points at the other two mounted tiger demons lagging behind. They move up, turn to Kurama, and foxboy says "Almost, wait for the circling Aizbadins by the quarry to turn their attention to the north." Chu and the rest of the army should hit them very soon. The circle group still firing arrows at the mosh pit, hitting some of our guys, some of their own people in the back. I say "We gonna give them a high colonic, heh?" Kurama laughs a bit and says "Crude, but correct."

Finally, looks like Chu stopped beating the meat and got involved. Big mass of our guys, mix of mounted and walking, they're pouring in from the north and northwest and cutting through the stags like they're paper. The mounted archer merry-go-round just broke its formation and they're now heading off to the north, going around the quarry. Kurama says "Almost…almost…now!" The three mounted guys on our end move up first, and the two mounted spearmen hit the engaged Aizbadins in the back. The mounted crossbow tiger lady moves behind them and takes a pot shot at the stags, and us nine on foot move up and crash into the stag demon lines from the side, mixing in with the guys holding the line. I dodge a spear thrust and punch an asshole in the throat so hard that I think I crushed her throat, she's falling down and choking. A lot of crying, screaming, bleeding, dying, and this freaking dust everywhere.

Our ogres have started circling around the Aizbadin left side. Left flank. Almost got this group surrounded. I keep punching, and the rest of us keep stabbing, and Kurama shouts in English "DROP YOUR WEAPONS AND WE WILL ACCEPT YOUR SURRENDER!" A woman shouts in English in an Arabic accent "I'LL DROP MY SPEAR UP YOUR CUNT!" One of the male red ogres shouts in this Old Egyptian accented English "KEEP AT IT! THEY ARE DOWN TO THEIR LAST EIGHT!" Kurama shoves his sword into the chest of a male stag demon, and I hear him mumble "Why are they fighting a pitched battle?" He kicks against the stag demon's chest and pulls out his sword, spraying grey blood all over our feet and knees.

I dodge a spear thrust from a male Aizbadin, yank on the spear's shaft, and pull the asshole toward me. He trips over a dead stag demon and falls forward, and I catch him in a standing guillotine choke, and I crank until his chin is like at his chest, and I twist right, hearing a loud, nasty, crunch sound. Guy flails for a bit, and then clutches his chest and goes stiff. The mounted tiger crossbow lady shouts in Arabic-accented English "Behind us! The Aizbadins are charging!" I turn around, so does Kurama, and like ten guys on horseback are heading at us, most with spears, three with bow and arrows.

An arrow zips by and hits one of our mounted spearmen in the gut, and I run a meter toward the charge and ready my right fist. Gotta think fast, they're getting close, another arrow zips by, hear someone scream. Close enough! I charge my spirit shotgun blast and I fire, vaporing holes in the assholes and their horses. Half of them mostly turn into dust, with hands or feet remaining. All of them fall down, stay down, no, one guy gets up, missing his left arm, curved sword in his right arm. He yells and charges, and suddenly falls face down, grey blood spraying from his headscarf, Rinku's bladed hat stuck in the back of his head.

"WE SURRENDER!" I hear some guy shout out in Arabic-accented English, and I turn around and find five Aizbadin's remaining, all surrounded by our people, at spear and sword and whatever point. Two men, three women. The men and two of the women drop their shields, swords, and spears on the ground. The third female stag demon, or doe demon, however they're called, her headscarf torn off along with part of her grayish blue robe and leather armor, she holds onto her spear, shows her teeth as she sneers, and shoves her spear up and through the top of the head of the surrendering female Aizbadin to her left, causing the now dead demon to go limp and fall forward. She pulls the spear out and turns toward us, and our crossbow lady quickly fires off a bolt, hitting the armed asshole in her right eye, her skull cracking as the bolt pokes through the back of her head. Aizbadin lady's arms lock up and she falls backwards, before her arms loosen up and she stops moving.

The remaining female Aizbadin shouts "DON'T KILL US WE SURRENDER OKAY?! STOP, WE YIELD!" The three survivors fall to their knees and put their hands behind their heads. Kurama shouts "Bind their arms, and quickly comb through the camp! Remember, we are to take as many alive as we can! Report to me when this is done! Treat both our wounded and theirs, and only kill if necessary!" He turns to me and extends his arms out, and we hug, some stag demon blood on his vest getting on my chin. Our arms and hair are like cacked in dust and dirt, with some grey blood mixed in. He pats my back a few times, lets me go, and says "It has been some time since I commanded forces like this. I missed the feeling. The thrill, the immediate cause and effect, the changing details. These Aizbadins surprised me. Culturally and based on military history, they would always disengage and flee into open plains where they have the natural advantages of their cavalry. Akin to the Scythians and Sarmatians of ancient human history. A pitched camp battle is highly irregular. I am fairly certain they did not spot our southwestern units, or else they would have fled immediately before the attack." I laugh and say "Don't worry professor, I'm taking notes."

Suddenly feel and hear dust kick up again. Turn around and there's Jin, making his landing, down to his last three javelins, got an arrow sticking through his shield. Rinku leans down and yanks his hat out of the dead guy's head, whipping it around to get some of the blood off. Jin spits on the ground and wipes dirt out of his red hair, and shouts "Bit too early to faff around. Chu and the north people poured into the quarry, and there's a feckin stag-hive in that tunnel below. Could use a hand there. Nothing Chu can't handle, but I figure we wanna take as many of the feckers alive." Kurama nods and shouts "Understood Jin! Yusuke, Rinku, with me! We will deal with the remaining forces in the quarry tunnel. The rest, your orders are clear!" It's like all foxboy is missing is a gunbai, or whatever he used back when he ran shit in medieval Romania and Gandara and wherever. Hah, it's like he's having the time of his life doing this, haven't seen him smile that way in a while.

C'mon, where is this prick…finally Amado dragged his own ass from the shithouse. There he is, walking down the hallway toward me, in his officer blues. I yell in Tagalog "Hey, ya fly is open!" Amado laughs a bit and just flashes me the bird, his right hand grabbing his crotch. The prick. That cheap combover he's doing ain't hiding his male-pattern baldness. See him almost shit himself, Saint Sakay just exited a room behind him, and Amado quickly stuffs his hands in his pockets. Huh, didn't notice it before, Amado almost the Captain's height, maybe an inch shorter, means I'm taller than Saint Sakay. Good to know, heh, that crazy bitch still gives me the creeps.

I speak in a more hushed tone "Ya hear about this piece of work?" Amado nods and says in Tagalog "I know the story, Joey. Usual setup?" I nod and hear some of the pricks in the holding cell getting chatty. Bunch of tattooed gang fucks from Tondo. I turn to them on the left, past the door across the hall, and yell "Ey, shut the fuck up, I can't hear myself think!" Amado jabs me in the right shoulder and says "I saw Sarmiento finishing up with a perp he nailed for armed robbery. Beefy guy, he's bringing him in soon. I'll stall him for the extra effect." I wipe my right shoulder and say "Hey, watch the fabric. Did ya wash ya hands? I don't need your piss all over me." Amado the prick gives me a look and says "Just do it already. I'll prep the mirror."

I turn and enter through the door. Gonna start with some humor, make this intsik-looking fuck think I'm here to shoot the shit. "Good afternoon, I'm Detective Gatchalian, and you are either Fred Wan or really lost," I say in English to the guy sitting in the room we have set aside for these sorts of things. Jerkoff fits the profile. Wide-frame sunglasses and a rich asshole haircut, black hair slicked back, with a small cleft chin, wearing head-to-toe expensive designer Italian satin and wool, like it ain't fucking boiling outside or something. He's got his hands folded and on the desk like he's expecting a pat on the head, and the guy says in this Singaporean or Malaysian or whatever accented English "Yes, thank you Mr. Gatchalian, it's a pleasure to meet you." He stands up and extends his right hand, and I can see he even got diamond studded gold cufflinks. I don't extend my hand out, and I put down my notepad on the desk, the one where I doodle shit when I'm bored. Was halfway done with this fucking masterpiece of desk sarge Bustamante's ass crack, the one she shows off every time she sits her fat fucking ass on the highchair in front of me in the lunchroom. Then this jackoff came around.

He finally gets the message and puts his fucking arm away, sitting back down. Ornery lamp overhead, not good for the vision. I keep yelling at the janitor to fix it and he does nothing, that deaf cocksucker. Tinted window on the left. One way, and the blinds are up, but someone can always lift the glass up on the other side. I say "We found ya rental car. You were right, some punk stole it from the lot on Mabini street, but that's been taken care of. Don't worry, we got ya stuff back." Freddy boy looks relieved, and starts exhaling like he's been holding it in all this time. Don't relax yet, cocksucker.

I say "One more thing, for the record. We came across something, and I gotta know." I reach for the fancy ass jap cellphone in my right pocket, as this prick says "Err, yes? What…what do you want to know?" Not so relaxed now, heh. I smirk and ask him "On a scale of one to ten, how old are the boys ya like to fuck?" "EXCUSE ME?!" Freddy the Fuck shouts and stands up so fast those expensive glasses almost fly off. He goes on "I am an attorney, IN GOOD STANDING, with the Singaporean Bar Association! My brother is a respected diplomat, FROM THE SINGAPOREAN EMBASSY! I will not stand by for these disgusting accusations!" Ooo, the Singaporean embassy! I'm shitting in my boxers.

Tapping on the mirror with my left hand, I shout "Alright Amado, let's get everyone a good look of this fruit!" And right on cue, the window comes up, and look at that, Joshua Sarmiento is here too, hauling a beaten up and pissed off beefy prick with bushy black hair and a sleeveless white shirt, handcuffed with his hands behind his back. Bunch of tattoos too, got one on his left shoulder of an alien spaceship taking flight. Guy looks like he fucked a steroid needle. Yeah he'll do. I pull out the cellphone in my pocket, and Freddy-fuck starts looking whiter than baby powder. I snap my fingers and say in English "Ey, Sarmiento hold onto him for a sec. Hey, you assholes in the back, check this out!" I open the flip phone and…fuck I lost where I had the video prepped…gotta find it. I yell "Hold on ya fucks!" Hear Fred the Fuck hyperventilating. There we go. I hit play and show the video to Amado, Joshua, the armed robbery prick, and the guys in the holding cell in the back, got the volume on max. Even if they can't see it, they'll hear it. I sure as shit don't need to see it again.

Fred Wan speaks in the video recording in that Singaporean English or whatever "You are doing a great job Herbert. Keep squeezing it like it's a baseball bat. Yes, like that. If you do a good job, I will give you a treat." Sarmiento mouths off in Tagalog "Motherfucker, this guy…" The beefy guy just stares at it like he's watching a small puppy get tortured. This squeaky sounding kid says on the recording "This is weird mister, but okay! I want Yu-Gi-Oh card packs. Can I have a few? My friend Francisco got three packs from his mom last week." Beefy guy mouths off in English "What…the fuck am I looking at?" I say "The latest home video from this flambé." I turn toward the fucks in the holding cell and yell "You all hear all that? This fruitcake is a kiddie-raping fuck! Not even happy with buying for it, he's picking up kids off the street, kids on their way home from school, the sick fuck!" The guys in the holding cell are all looking at me and Fred the Fuck, like hardly even saying a word, some whispering and shit. One of the guys in the cell yells in English "Chomo piece of shit, I hope you fucking die slow!" Another yells in Tagalog "Get that fag over here, I'll bust his fucking skull open!" Fred now wakes up and yells "I can explain! This is not what it looks like! Please, let's all calm down!" Steroid guy shouts "Calm down?! Give me five minutes with this piece of shit. Five minutes. I'll make him wish his momma swallowed him."

Amado, almost laughing his ass off on how we got this fruitfuck nailed, tosses me a pair of handcuffs through the window, and I turn and say to Fred "Turn around and bend over. Get used to it, going to be a usual routine at Bilibid." Fred does as told, almost crying, and shouts "P-PLEASE! DON'T LET ME INSIDE THAT CELL! PUT ME IN A CLOSET, L-LOCK ME IN THE AIR VENTS! ANYTHING BUT THIS! WAIT!" I grab his left wrist, and he puts his right wrist back for me. I handcuff the fuck, and shove his face into the window frame as hard as I can. Laughing, I say "Oops, my bad. My foot slipped." Think I cut his nose open, broke the fucks glasses. He starts crying and leaning down for his glasses, now on the floor. I pull him back and out the room.

Yanking the fuck along, I say "Amado, Joshua, get the cell open. I think Fred here should get real friendly with his new neighbors. Make a good impression, ya might see them in Bilibid, ya fuck." The steroid guy leans over and spits in Fred's face, mouthing "Five minutes. Give me five fucking minutes, I'll split his head open like a coconut." Fred shouts "I HAVE MONEY! I HAVE LOTS OF MONEY…WAIT I AM A SINGAPOREAN CITIZEN! YOU CANNOT DO THIS! THE EMBASSY WILL HEAR ABOUT THIS! THIS WILL BE AN INTERNATIONAL INCIDENT!" I shout "Ya hear that guys?! He may not be here for long, so ya all should leave a nice impression for this cocksuck! Cause his brother, from the Singaporean embassy, he's coming around soon to swing some dick!" The guys in the cell start rattling the bars, let Fred know what they think of kiddie fuckers.

Fred, crying like a baby, shouts "MY BROTHER WILL HEAR ABOUT THIS! THIS WILL BE AN INTERNATIONAL INCIDENT! DO YOU HEAR ME?! WAIT, PLEASE STOP! W-WAIT!" Amado opens the cell, and Joshua unlocks the handcuffs on his perp and lets him in the cell. The guys in the cell make way and let steroid fuck take the middle. I say "Oh shit, forgot the key to the cuffs. Amado, you got them?" Amado fights off his laughing, shakes his head, and says "Nope, don't see them. I think they're lost." I nod and say "Oh well, hey Fred, here ya go. It ain't the Peninsula, like I'm sure ya rich dick-swinging Singaporean embassy fucks prefer, but it'll do ya good. We got the best fucking hospitality in Metro Manila, right over here." I shove the fuck into the cell with the cuffs still on, and the guy immediately falls to his knees. Joshua closes the cell door, and Amado locks it in place. I snap my fingers and get everyone's attention before they sink their teeth into the red meat.

"Over here, eyes here. Not while we're looking, ya all got it?! And keep him in one piece and more or less breathing, ya all got me?! This fuck's got a five star hotel room waiting for him in Bilibid. Communal living, lots of friends. Top notch hospitality. They even do asshole enlargement services. Hey Fred, you hear that?!" Fred's in the baby position or whatever the fuck it's called, crying his eyes out. I yell "Hey, look over here! Eyes up you sick fuck. Don't worry, we're generous here in Manila." I laugh and connect my thumbs and index fingers into the shape of a diamond, adding "Your asshole's going to be this big, haha! So big, they gonna run one of these jap bullet trains through it!"

Amado and Joshua laughing their asses off, I snap my fingers again and address the crowd "Just so we clear, he's supposed to get out of this cell breathing. Say, you guys hungry? I'll have someone over to the Jolibee. No bucket and no pasta, just the sandwich and the burger, we got rules about letting you fucks have bones and plastic shit. What do ya say?" They all nod in silent agreement, mostly silent, a few saying a few words to Fred about what they gonna do to him. I laugh and say "Good to hear, I'll have someone get on that now."

Amado, Joshua, and I turn around, and I hear Fred scream "NO! WAIT! DON'T GO! OH MY GOD THEY ARE GOING TO KILL ME! WAIT! WAIT!" Now he's just screaming and groaning as I hear his fag nuts getting kicked in. Now to get someone to…like a gift from Christ himself! There he is. I yell in Tagalog "Artie! Artie Molina, get the fuck over here!"

Artie Molina, Benny Molina's kid. May his soul rest in peace. The stories about Big Dick Benny and the shit he pulled off back in the day, we heard them in Caloocan. And here we have his skinny shit son, Mr. Educated himself. More than a head shorter than me, with these Harry Potter glasses and the puff hair combed to the left. I've taken shits bigger than him. Artie walks over with a look on his face, like he's doing me a favor, the smug prick. He says in Tagalog "Yes? Detective Jose Gatchalian?" This guy. I say "It's Joey you fuck. You ain't my ma, don't fucking call me Jose. Now, go over to Jolibee and get, I don't know, enough burgers and sandwiches to feed the fucks in the cells."

Artie looks at me like he didn't hear me right, and says "You want me to go to Jolibee and get food for the men in the cells?" I yell "Ya need a cotton swab?! Yeah, go to Jolibee, and don't get any shit that has bones or needs a fork. I don't wanna explain to the Cap how someone got shivved in the throat." "This is not part of my duties." "Tough shit, I'm pulling rank here." He shrugs his shoulders and gives me this look like I'm stupid and says "Rank? We're both detectives!" I say "I've been doing this shit in Caloocan while your balls were waiting to drop." "That's called seniority, not rank." I yell "It's called my foot up your fucking ass if you don't shut the fuck up about it and go to Jolibee!"

He just shakes his head and seethes, and then raises an eyebrow and says "What is that screaming…oh Christ why is that man handcuffed, someone help him!" I extend my left hand out to make him stop, and I say "Ignore that background noise, and don't give me that look. Cap says you gotta get comfortable with me and Amado here, so get used to it. C'mon, don't be a fuck, we'll grab some beers after work. Consider it a 2-5. We got some shit to show you. Believe me." Artie exhales air and says "Fine, whatever. I'll be back." As he walks away, Amado shouts "And get some aspirin from the Mercury, I'm getting a headache over here!" Good idea. I shout "And grab some titty mags along the way too! I wanna read the articles! Heh, heh."

Halfway done with my cigarette, leaning against Rudy's grey Honda Civic. Rudy himself is standing by the trashcan near the takeout shack, finishing up his order of turon, eating out of a Styrofoam takeout container. I watch him skewer another fried banana spring roll with a plastic fork, looks like he's almost done. He's dressed in a red buttoned down collared polo, short sleeves, two orange lines running vertically down the shirt. Gray khaki shorts and blue running shoes. Aviator sunglasses, a gold crucifix hanging around his neck, his black hair short and combed forward, and he has sugar dust on his moustache. Always has to grab something to eat, very annoying. Would expect all the junk food to turn him into a bloated ameba, but it seems that being the spirit detective of the Philippines is its own exercise plan.

Really hot today, feel my forehead sweating. He doesn't like it when I smoke in the car, which means I can't enjoy the air conditioning. I use my left hand to brush aside some sweat. Wearing a cotton white buttoned short sleeve shirt that hides my bra very well, grayish blue denim jeans, and black running shoes with streaks of red. My period just started this morning, amazing timing. Good thing I brought painkillers along. Don't want my cramps to interfere with Koenma business. He notified Rudy about some strange dealings here east of Rodriguez. Middle of nowhere, on the road leading up to the Wawa Dam. One of the locals, this Filipina in a pink tank top and white shorts, she's staring at me. What, never seen a Tamilian woman before? Uncle Arumugam likes to say that our ancestors once ruled part of these islands, like the Visayas, Rudy's people. I exhale cigarette smoke and yell in English "Hey, Mr. Altamirano! We don't have all day!"

Rudy finally finishes with his junk food, and throws the container and fork in the trash. I have a few more drags on my cigarette to go, knocking ash off. He walks up to me and speaks in Cebuano-accented English "Why are you hurrying me when you still have some of your cigarette left? Vijaya, this is getting annoying." I roll my eyes and say "You're the one that keeps stopping for food every hour. Also, you have sugar on your moustache." Rudy wipes the sugar off and replies "It smelled good, made me hungry." I take one deep drag on my cigarette, exhale, and throw it on the ground. Rudy frowns and nods and says "Littering. Very nice." "Can we go?" I ask, sounding as annoying as I can. Rudy waves his right hand at the car and says "Let's go do Christ's will. Course in this case, Christ is a pacifier-sucking toddler with a taste for Japanese ramen, but I digress."

I swing around and enter the front-side passenger seat, Rudy entering the driver seat to my left. Closing my car door, I reach over to the cup holder and grab my half-empty bottle of Royal Tru lemon soda. Rudy closes his driver side door and finally turns the car back on so we can get some air conditioning. Taking a sip from my lemon soda, I say "Finally, I was boiling out there." Rudy sighs and says "You're from Sri Lanka. Why does the heat bother you?" "I told you a thousand times. It's hotter here." I hate this month so much. Rudy fiddles with the radio and says "So, want to place bets on what we find?"

I take another sip and say "A demon chewing up some poor bastard? Probably a hiker? That's my bet." Rudy gives me an annoyed look and says "That's the easiest bet. How about the race of the demon? Let's bet on that. I say another leviathan demon. We've been seeing a lot of them lately. Batangas was a fish tank last March." One more sip. I say "I remember. Alright, I say bat or chimera demon." "Which one?" "Is there a difference Rudy? The ones with the bat wings and the teeth." "Fine Vijaya, I'll let you lump them in. 1000 piso?" "You're on." He finally settles on a radio station. Tagalog. 'Banal Na Aso, Santong Kabayo', by Yano. Like a 90s flashback. "Hih hih hih hih." Rudy finally sets the car into drive, and we head along the dirt road, east, following the Marikina river. Towards the dam.

"Kaharap ko sa dyip…ang isang ale (On a passenger jeepney, in front of me was a lady). Nagrorosaryo…mata niya'y nakapikit (Praying the rosary with her eyes closed)." We pass a billboard for Primera Light brandy, and a shack selling liquor, snacks, smokes. 2.5 piso a stick. Fortunes. I'm running low, need to get a carton soon. A billboard for Skyflakes crackers, with Marian Rivera on it. 'Buti na lang laging ready.' She gotten a lot more famous lately. Shacks disappear and we're surrounded by greenery on both sides. A macaque monkey runs across the highway, causing Rudy to slow down so he doesn't run it over. "Mura pa rin nang mura ang ale (But the lady started cursing)!"

I screw the cap back on my Royal Tru bottle and return it to the cup holder. "Banal na aso, santong kabayo (Holy dog, saintly horse)! Natatawa ako hi-hi-hi-hi (I am laughing, heh-heh-heh-heh)!" Rudy passes a shirtless guy in green shorts that's on a black bicycle, on the right, while a little girl in a white shirt and pink shorts plays with a doll on the steps of a pink shack selling snacks, water, and I think household goods. "Banal na aso, santong kabayo (Holy dog, saintly horse)! Natatawa ako hi-hi-hi-hi (I am laughing, heh-heh-heh-heh)!" We pass four parked red motor tricycles on the right, one of them very rusted. "Sayo (At you)!" Rudy moves a little right and towards the dirt pathway heading up, off the main road. Uphill.

We arrive close enough to the spot that Koenma asked us to investigate. Surprised how Rudy didn't dent his car going off road and uphill. Just enough clearing in the trees for cars to barely move through. Well, one car. He parks, and I see through the foliage, a piece of metal several hundred meters away, probably part of the roof. I open my car door, swing my feet outside, and reach down to my right jean cuff, pulling it up to reveal my trusty sidekick, a thirty centimeter bronze rod, tied to a holster around my right foot. I remove the rod, climb off the seat, and raise the rod to the sky as Rudy exits the vehicle as well. Focusing my spirit energy, I generate a yellowish glow around the rod, until once again I form my spirit 'kattai'. 'Shaped' like a baseball bat with the width of a cricket bat, with a 'flat' top, my spirit club will do for now. Defense first, to assess the situation, and then change for offense. Lord Hanuman will be evoked soon enough.

Closing the door, I turn left and see Rudy armed with duel-wield Beretta 92 pistols. He closes his car door and locks the car, and points with his pistols at the thick trees and bush ahead. We split up slightly, around five meters apart, Rudy walking towards the…I guess rear of the target location, myself walking directly at the piece of metal roof I see through the foliage. Sound of birds chirping, branches breaking, I see a Philippine eagle fly overhead with a rat, its beak carrying the rat by the tail. More overhead branches creaking, hear one break off and fall. Count only one so far, and they like trees. Sounds like I'm getting the 1000 piso.

*BANG* *BANG* Gunfire rings out, sounds like it's coming from Rudy, and…there it is! Jumping from the tree with two bony hands on a fire axe, gray-skinned bat demon in a dark blue tunic and leather 'shorts', large wings, chin stubble. I block the downward swipe with my spirit kattai, back up, and duck under a horizontal swing, rolling my kattai around my back and into my left hand. I kick the demon in the chest and spin to the right, swinging my kattai from my back horizontally left to right with my left hand, which gets blocked by the shaft of the demon's fire axe. He grunts and shoves forward, pushing me back, and then steps back and lifts the axe over his head. I toss my kattai to my right hand, step left, and dodge the downward swipe of the axe. The demon grunts, spit spraying from his mouth, and he twists his grip and reaps the grass. I lean back and see the blade of the axe pass by centimeters from my neck. More gunshots ring out, and I jab my kattai into the demon's left ribs and move him back a few steps, the demon staggering over a branch, its back to me.

His wings flap and smack my shoulders and I shove against them with my kattai. The demon curses "Shit" in Tagalog, and, argh, just shoved the bottom of the fire axe shaft into my gut. I cough and step back, and the bat demon swings around with his axe, and I thrust and time my kattai with the swing, and block the swing. Another step back, my back almost at a tree, and another swing from the bat demon. I duck and step to the right, and the axe gets lodged into the tree. Demon starts wedging it out, now's my chance! I step back and attune my spirit energy, turning my kattai club into the shape of Lord Hanuman's mace. Thin shaft with a round bulge at the end, the top tip of the ball conical in shape. For offense. The demon wedges his axe out and I swing my kattai diagonally downward and right to left, shattering the axe's shaft, and sending the blade flying out of view.

Armed with the broken end of the shaft, the demon yells "Damn this!" and thrusts with the jagged wooden shaft. I hold my kattai horizontally with both hands and thrust the kattai's shaft into the demons jaw, sending him staggering backwards. Moving my left hand to the bottom of my kattai's shaft, I grip with both hands, spin 360 degrees, and slam the bulge of the kattai into the left side of the demon's head. His head in turn slams into the tree with enough force to snap the trunk like a twig. Red blood oozing from his head and ear, face down on the ground by the now stump of the tree, the demon groans and flails around. I grab his left wing with my left hand, yank on it, and slam my kattai into the back of the demon's head, hearing a loud crack of bone. Lifting my kattai, I slam it down once again, hearing a louder crack, and the creature goes limp.

More gunshots. I run towards the presumed shack, jumping over tree roots, finding a two, maybe three room hovel with metal walls and roofing, like a shanty, around a small clearing, with a wooden shed and a 'barn' behind and to the right of it. A male leviathan demon with dark green hair, olive-colored scaly slimy skin, a bluish-green tail, and these bluish-green fins around the sides of his head, shirtless and wearing a blue linen bandana and a long red skirt with blue diamond patterns, waves a gulok machete around with his right hand and shouts in Tagalog "A gun?! You think a gun is going to stop me?! Us leviathan demons are built tougher than that…how do you even see us?!" Clearly a tourist from demon world. The leviathan now spots me and speaks "Ah, that's spirit energy alright. Don't care, back away if you want to live. I think I'll spare your flesh, we got enough here already."

Rudy emerges from the trees and fires a 'shot' at the leviathan, striking the demon in the chest. The demon spots Rudy and laughs, shouting "Nice shot! Too bad it does absolutely nothing!" On the contrary, it has done everything. Rudy frowns in fake disappointment and fires a shot from his other gun, the one that fires real bullets. The shot strikes the demon in the gut, drawing blue blood that stains his warrior skirt. The leviathan demon touches the wound with his left hand, in shock, his legs growing weak. Bring his blue blood stained fingertips to his face, he licks the tips as if to desperately prove it is a hoax, and then collapses on his back, his gulok falling out of his grasp. I run up to the demon, kick the gulok aside, raise my kattai, and slam the bulge of my club onto his head, ending his life with a crunch of skull.

While the more famous Yusuke Urameshi developed the fabled spirit gun and its derivatives, Rudy came across a different kind of spirit power when he realized his abilities. Instead of a beam of energy, his fingers can fire energy…darts, of sorts, that can immediately lock the energy of demon and human alike. Even can turn a demon's skin and organs into soft targets, even when that turtle shaped rock demon attacked us by Mount Makiling two years ago. He can literally turn the most powerful beings into regular, soft, powerless human beings. Last time he tested this, his 'darts' lasted for half a year on a rather weak leviathan demon.

Rudy turns to me and laughs, saying "You owe me 1000 piso." I reply "I fought off a bat demon earlier. The bet is a push." Shit! Gunfire from the shack, I turn and run! Shit, shit, shit! Barn! That barn! Garage, whatever it is! I duck behind a wall, more gunfire. I yell "Rudy you okay?!" That sounded like a Kalashnikov. Hear pistol fire, hear Rudy shout "Still breathing, Vijaya! They are making a run for it! I'm heading after them, check the buildings!" More automatic fire, sounds like it's coming from two of them. Demons using guns? Hasn't happened since Mandaluyong in 2001. More automatic fire, though more sporadic, and I hear more of Rudy returning fire. Think the riflemen are heading back into the forest. Rudy shouts "Okay! I'm going after them!" A few shots from Rudy, and I peek over and see that he has ran after them.

Okay, okay. Search and clear. He probably killed one before he shot the leviathan…so that is five demons. Three dead, two on the run. More than five would make it very crowded. Okay. Okay.

I slowly walk towards the 'barn' doors, wooden and large, a padlock chain locking them. I adjust the grip on my kattai, gripping the middle of the shaft, and I wedge the shaft in the chains. Tugging and jerking, I tear the chain off the doors, and I slowly open the far side door with the kattai shaft, partially disintegrating the door. Stepping inside, slowly…it's a garage. A rusty old white Toyota Corolla sedan, back when they made their roofs boxy and less round. Mechanics tools mounted on the wall, oil canisters, gasoline canisters, a deactivated generator, jumper cables. Looking up, ceiling fan, not on. Some lightbulbs dangling, all off. Nothing living in here but a few flies swarming a mostly-eaten chicken bone, in the corner.

I open the far side barn doors and slowly step back into the open. Start small, then move bigger. I approach the shed. Smells awful, has a round hole on the upper part of the door. I open the door by the handle slowly, with my left hand…yea it's the shithouse. The obvious answer. Okay. Now for the house.

Side entrance, almost across the outdoor toilet. The 'house' is about a few centimeters over the ground, held up by wooden foundation beams. At least I won't have to worry about an ambush in a hypothetical basement. I slowly walk up to the white side door, a wiry screen mesh serving as a window. Peering inside…it's a kitchen. Dirty. Flies swarming a bundle of bananas on the counter, the bananas almost a moldy brown mush. A green pack of Lucky Me Pancit Canton instant noodles to the left of the bundle…the kalamansi flavor. A roll of paper towels hanging from a wooden pole, just above a sink. I reach for the door handle…it's unlocked.

Stepping inside the shack, I move through the kitchen…slowly. Dirty dishes in the sink. Something tells me the owners are not going to be able to clean them. I keep a short grip on my kattai and slowly progress out of the kitchen. No inner walls, one giant room. A lot of flies buzzing around. Old red fabric sofa on the right, with a small rabbit ears antenna TV on a footstool, bad quality on the TV, looks like they are playing an old Japanese cartoon. I think it's that Son Goku Dragon Z show or however it's called, the one my cousin Ganesan likes to watch. A pink round blob with a purple cape and a penis on its head just turned a red horned devil in a blue tracksuit and a white cape into a giant biscuit. The blob swallows the biscuit as I check the trash…bloody paper towels, flies…I kick the trashcan and let the contents spill to the floor. Bones. Some with flesh still attached…all bloody. Human bones.

I look left, finding the main entrance, the mesh screen windows opened, bullet shell casings littering the wooden floor. No more signs of life. Aside from the flies. I hear gunshots echoing from the forest. From a pistol, not an automatic rifle, I think. Good. I sigh and turn towards the refrigerator…noticing blood on the sides of the fridge, where the handle to open the door is. It is likely full of human body parts, I would wager to myself. Okay. I slowly open the refrigerator door…I am correct. The heads alone account for seven dead Filipinos. Three male, four female. Some of the heads have their eyes missing. Leviathans consider the eyes a delicacy.

I open the freezer door above…more body parts. Mostly limbs, fingers, some…organs…I'd guess that is what the demons want to savor for later. Closing both doors, I sigh and begin ransacking the place for anything of value I can find.

Found something, under a pillow on the sofa, almost wedged into the sofa. Something…unique at least. A book in a European language I don't recognize. Looks Spanish but not exactly. 'Iliada, Odiseea, Eneida'. By this George Andreescu. I open the book, find a bookmark in the middle. A scrap of paper, in the same language as the book. Portuguese maybe? Some words, numbers. I don't understand this. I hear the door creak. I reactivate my kattai, in its defensive-supporting shape. Hear Rudy shout in English "It's me Rudy, don't attack. I'm coming in."

Rudy steps in through the front door, almost slipping on the bullet casings. His shirt and shorts are stained in red blood, as is his hands. Returning his pistols to his side holsters, he speaks "I got them both. They were humans, believe it or not." What?! I ask "Humans? And they weren't eaten by the demons?" "I know, it's as ridiculous as it sounds. They were fanatical too, or crazed at least. As if they were possessed." Possessed? I ask "Were they locals?" Rudy nods and wipes at a speck of blood on his sunglasses, inadvertently smearing more blood on the lenses, speaking "Yes, why? What's with that book?" I deactivate my kattai and wave him over with the bronze rod.

I close the book and extend it to Rudy, speaking "Take a look. I think it's in Portuguese." Rudy takes the book and stares at the back for a second, and then flips over to the front. He lifts his sunglasses to his forehead, and stares at something on the bottom. He says "Hm, the author's name…" He flips through the pages quickly until he finds the bookmark, staining the pages in blood, and then scans the pages themselves. Rudy speaks "It's Romanian, not Portuguese. Interesting…" "Since when do you know Romanian?" "I don't, but I can recognize a few words. A last name, for example. Very interesting…I wonder." "Wonder what?"

Rudy sighs and closes the book, speaking "Remember that notice Koenma sent out, about a rogue spirit detective from Romania? Forgot her name, she tried to murder the Japanese spirit detective's teammate…Kurama I think his name was." I say "I think so, back in September, right? Last year? You think she's here in Luzon?" Rudy stares at the cover again, drops the book on the sofa, and says "I'll let Koenma know. He can decide for himself."

He turns and walks over to the kitchen, stepping over the garbage and human bones. Activating the sink, he rinses his hands, his sunglasses, and then tears a paper towel square off the roll. Drying his sunglasses, then his hands, Rudy opens an overhead cabinet, and speaks "Ah great, they have Chiz Curls." He throws the crumbled paper towel at the pile of garbage and bones and takes a blue Chiz Curls bag out of the cabinet. Opening the bag, Rudy reaches inside and grabs a handful, stuffing them into his mouth.