Pulling my red fabric luggage case out of the trunk of my Nissan Cedric Y33, the blood stains from Keiko's pig hunt still on the seats despite a shitload of cleaning wipes, I close the trunk and lock my car, parked in a spot at Narita International Airport. I'm dressed in a short-sleeve green buttoned polo with red azalea patterns all over it like polka-dots, dark blue jeans with a black belt, black Puma running shoes with white socks, and my Spirit Detective watch on my left wrist. I feel my chin stubble, forgot to shave on the way out. Screw it. I take my blue flip phone out and scroll for Kurama's number…there it is. I press call, wait a few seconds, he picks up. I say "Hey Kurama, I just parked. You already there?" "Yes, I just entered. I will wait for you by the check-in. Terminal 2. Philippine Airlines." Alright, let's do this. Last night wasn't so awkward for me and Kurama, thank you Hiei for being a social atom bomb. I say "Yeah I remember. See ya in a bit."

And there he is, in a navy Hugo Boss short-sleeve polo and gray acid-washed denim jeans. He's wearing black sneakers with streaks of red and has a grey hard glossy plastic-looking luggage case. And he has his Tokyo Yakult Swallows cap on. Pretty crowded at the airport today. I walk up and say "Feeling the déjà vu here. At least we going someplace where I don't have to drink wine that was smuggled up someone's asshole." Kurama smirks and says "Good to see you too. I take it you have your passport." I roll my eyes and say "C'mon I get enough of that crap at home. Yeah, I got it." Not letting my brain go there. Just act cool for now. Deal with…what I did…when I come back home. Give me some time to get the words right.

Kurama grimaces, looking a bit awkward himself, and he hands me my airline ticket. Gate 88. Well, we got through a morning in demon world and a night of drinks with Kuwabara and Hiei yesterday. A plane ride should be easy. I mean at some point we'll both just let it sink in that we rubbed dicks in a fourway and I basically admitted that I got off on that. And then maybe not talk about it again. Yeah, maybe. "Is everything fine Yusuke?" he asks, not really maintaining eye contact. Hey, he smells pretty good. That Versace? I should ask him…not now though, not so soon, that's pretty damn gay. Not like he'd have a problem with that but…no man don't go there. I sigh and say "Yeah, just hate waking up early. Did you scope out the dining? Five hour flight, gotta be something serious here to hold us over. I ain't exactly looking forward to the microwaved sky chicken." He quickly replies "There is a Sojibou near our gate." Okay, that works. "Chilled soba noodles do sound pretty damn good right now."

"So we getting the upgraded economy seating? Looks like King Pacifier is sharing the wealth. Maybe now he'll start paying me," I say, stashing my luggage case in the overhead bin, taking the window seat. Extra leg room and we got the only two seats on this side of the row. Even getting a mini TV screen, so I can play solitaire five hundred times until I pass out. Kurama puts his case in the overhead bin and takes the aisle seat. A bunch of locals and southeast Asian people on this flight, maybe saw a few south Asians. I check my mini TV screen…cool, it's a touch screen. And they even have Battleship. And the movies…mix of American movies and these Filipino movies. A few Japanese movies. And this one Indian movie 'Citizen'. Oh shit they got 'Scarface'! I feel a nudge from Kurama and I turn and see him point at his screen. 'L.A. Confidential'. He speaks "Highly recommend. One of the best American movies I ever seen." I say "I'll save it for the flight back. First time I seen a plane show 'Scarface'. C'mon man, Al Pacino. Tony Montana!" I laugh a bit to myself and put on a fake Cuban accent, saying "Shure Mel, maybe yah cahn handal yaself oneof dem first class tickets…to da rezurrection." Kurama covers his mouth as he laughs, saying "Oh my Yusuke, that was horrible. Actually sounds closer to Arnold Schwarzenegger." Okay that kinda stings.

The slow moving line of people trying not to smash their knees on the armrests starts thinning enough, and I see Kurama taking his phone out. He types something into it and then shuts it off. I take my flip phone out, text Keiko 'Just boarded, we're heading soon', and hit send, shutting my phone off. I ask Kurama "Hey, give me one of the headphones you bought." He tosses me the pair, still in the plastic wrap, and then pulls out some Wrigley Spearmint gum. I shake my head and say "Later, they taste like crap after ten minutes." Pocketing the headphones, I turn to my Spirit Detective watch and press the magic button.

Buzz, static, and then we have Koenma at his desk, shaking his right hand like he just got carpal tunnel from stamping the shit out of some papers. I adjust myself so that I have my back to the shuffling passengers and say kinda quiet in Japanese "Hey Koenma." I see Jorge the ogre wave to get his attention, and the toddler gets the memo and says "Oh Yusuke, yes, good to see you. And you too Kurama. I take it that Kurama sufficiently briefed you on the situation." I quietly say "Yeah, I got the details." "Speak up, I can hardly hear you." Rolling my eyes, I say a bit louder "You want me to get thrown off the flight for acting schizo?" I look right and see a Filipina-looking lady give me a weird look. Thanks for proving my point. I turn back into my watch and whisper into it "Look, we know. Meetup with Rudy at that high-rise in the Manila Chinatown after we land. See what he knows, and the three of us go bust heads until we wrap up the psycho Romanian chick with the funny brain powers, and drop her off at your place for Yama to deal with. Easy."

The stewards are now getting ready for that whole safety show thing. I add "Look, they about to do the life vest and oxygen mask show and tell so either spill it fast or wait until I have to go take a shit in the sky toilet." He sighs, shakes his head, and says "I'll just add the following. Their equivalent of Botan has been missing for over a month. Her name is Acacia. If you find out anything about her, notify immediately. Lastly, Rudy has a fellow psychic that joins him on cases. Her name is Vijaya Aruna Kumaran. No fancy tricks or territories, just think of her as Altamirano's Kuwabara. Rudy said she went investigating something last night and hasn't been seen since." "Lot of people going missing in Manila, huh?" "Try not to join them. Safe travels. Koenma out."

"Sir, please turn off all electronic devices," I hear a stewardess say in accented English, and I look right and see the Filipina lady talking to me. I laugh nervously and say "Ah it's just a watch. I'm practicing lines for a movie role I'm trying to get." She gives me a dirty glare and says "Please deactivate all electronic devices," and then walks away to check on the people behind our row. Kurama looks at me and doesn't do a good job at hiding his snickering. I take my loss and try again at the fake Cuban accent "Sanitation? I told ya tah tell hem, ya was in ah sanitarium. Not sanitation." Kurama shakes his head and says "Still terrible. I don't expect the audition to go so well." Ah man you an ass sometimes. I laugh a bit as they begin the safety show. I free my headphones and plug them in…damn the jerks locked the screen. C'mon there should be an option to say you saw this before a thousand times and will waive all rights to sue and stuff.

Can't remain cooped up with Bianca without stepping out at least once, far too unrealistic. Need to keep establishing an alibi. My parents would probably be happy to see me do this. Likely would not feel the same about my contract killings. Turning to face a wall, the sound of honking jeepneys all around me, I adjust the brown belt around my navy slacks, going a notch tighter. They were beginning to sag a block ago. I straighten the right collar of my tucked-in grey dress shirt and notice the gleam coming off my silver crucifix. Took it with me when I left Saitama over here, wear it sometimes. More of a fashion statement if anything.

Checking the underside of my black dress shoes to make sure I don't bring dogshit into God's house, I nod to myself and turn toward the big cathedral by Lantana street, the church basically flanked by roads, as if it's a fortress that needs to be sieged to be taken. I check my grey digital watch, 11 AM. Confession should have already started. Okay, just need to kill time, just need to be in there long enough so the priest can vouch that I was here and I am clearly not someone that just rubbed out a retired cop.

Cloudy today, and I see an elderly Filipino man hawking pastries from a somewhat large bakery. 'Panaderia Delmar And Johnny'. Smells really good actually…maybe I'll…yeah I'll grab a bite to eat first. Kinda had too light a breakfast. Walking up to the bakery, I hear the old Filipino man, with a wispy grey beard, yell from behind the counter in Tagalog "Get them while they're hot people! Let's go! Just got a fresh batch of ensaymadas!" Well then I now know what I want. I approach the counter with my wallet out and say "Two ensaymadas and a coffee. Just milk, no sugar." He taps his right hand on the counter a couple of times and says "You got it, boss."

Entering a cathedral for the second time in the past five years, I spot the two columns of benches, one on each side, under the blue and white embroidered flags hanging from the actual support columns. A few people seated, spread out on the benches. One in obvious prayer. I look above and spot intricate paintings of saints and biblical scenes that I used to recognize back when my parents were raising me and my sister as good Catholics. At the end of the hall is a large Jesus on the cross, almost life-size from here, raised and fastened against a blue wall and flanked around with a pearl-colored archway, several lit candles burning just below his feet…err…His feet. Force of habit, even after knowing how the world really works. Kind of funny knowing that Christ is technically an east Asian looking toddler dressed like a sumo referee, and does not look like a surfer from Barcelona.

I lick a bit of sugar that's still stuck to my lower lip, and I find an empty bench far away from everyone else and visible enough for the priest to notice. Sitting down, I sigh, close my eyes briefly, and then look right at the stained glass window of…is that Christ debating the Pharisees after curing the paralyzed man? Mark…something. How am I remembering all of this again?

I sigh again…and reflect. Reflect on how I got here. Might as well. Maybe go backwards. Hunkering down with Bianca, turning down Kazemaru's new job since we literally just iced a cop and now have to worry about Manila's Finest having their payback, the drive from the hit, the hit. That tattoo on the cop's chest. Virgin Mary brushing away Christ's thorns. Mother.

When have I last spoken to you? Truly spoken to you? You believe I am here running a coffee shop with Chisato and Ramon. You missed her wedding, you don't even know she's pregnant. You are going to be a grandmother, and I can't even tell you because then you'd come over here and Robbie Tong or someone else wanting to fuck with me would get to you and I'm having enough problems making sure she's safe and insulated and invisible and…damn it. How would you feel knowing that you are spending checks made from me whacking people for the mob? My fucking skin crawls just imagining your reaction. Fuck this lifestyle, fuck these 'talents' that I got blessed with. If you only knew about Sensui and how the world really works. Hell, I sided with a devil, a real devil, and I didn't care. When I got these talents, I thought it was some sick joke from God. I was bored sick of everything, the same old wake up, school, studies, people pretending to like you, care about you. I didn't even need to see the Chapter Black tape, I already knew enough from reading people and how they behave. I wanted to be someone with Sensei…I thought I was one of these heroes from mythology taking part in things that actually matter. I thought God threw me a bone for me to be the legend I wanted to be, even if I had to play the devil for it. I wanted to carve my name in history.

Kazemaru…when I met him after high school…I thought he was everything I wanted to be, to really be when I sat down and thought about it. Someone that couldn't care less about the world, and yet still find the fun in it. The fun in breaking something, whether it was right or wrong. I didn't even bother to moralize it until it was too late and lines were crossed that can't be uncrossed. I'm not going to deny it…I will carry those sins to my grave. Nothing else I can do. That's the way this country works. That's what people want out of someone that can do what I can do.

It really is something, when a switch flips in your head and you grow up finally. You know it too, you look back at how you behaved when you didn't know better and you gnash your teeth in your reflection. I have to live with this for the rest of my life. It's for your own health and sanity mother. I would love nothing more for you to see Ramon, see Chisato, I mean, she's due in a month! You are going to be a grandmother, and you wouldn't even know it. I don't even know how we will tell my niece what you are, what kind of person you are. I hated you for so much of my childhood and something like this would have been perfect for hurting you back for how I thought you wronged me while raising me, and now I understand what kind of an idiot I've been. I wish I wasn't the terrorizing parasite I was when I was a kid. God I'm sorry.

I feel a soft arm on my shoulder, and I turn left and find the priest, wearing his black cassock with purple stole. He has a square jaw and thick eyebrows. He speaks in a rough Tagalog, probably a heavy smoker, "Good morning, I do not recall seeing you before. I hope the day finds you well." I smile awkwardly and nod, hiding my grief, saying "Yeah, thanks. No, it's my first time here." He nods and says "Good. You from around here? If not, I highly recommend the bakery outside. The puto masa they make, my, when you get them fresh…when I get them I go through twenty without realizing." "I actually went there for the first time right before. They had a fresh batch of ensaymadas, really good. Though the coffee was…strange." The priest laughs a bit and nods "I know what you mean. I once asked him if he forgot the filter paper in the cup and the old guy got all offended. Ah, well, anyway, welcome. I'm taking a quick water break, but if you want to make confession, I will be ready in five minutes." He taps my shoulder once again and turns toward the elevated Christ figurine, before turning toward a door to the left. I turn left and look at the confession box…sighing again. Already confessed to myself, why not shoot the shit with him anyway? Establish the alibi.

So, I'm doing confession for the first time in…forever. I close the purple curtain and sit down, waiting. How does it go again? Hear someone walk quickly…the priest's box door open, door close. "Hope I haven't made you wait long," I hear the priest from before speak, in his raspy voice. Looking at my shoes, I say "No, I just entered a minute ago." An awkward pause…and I remember how this works. I say "Sorry, I haven't done this in a while and I've been trying to remember the process. Alright…" I cross myself quickly and say "Bless me Father, for I have sinned. It has been…oh boy…many years since my last confession. More than a decade." A short pause, and he speaks "Well welcome back. God is always happy to see one of His return." I nod to myself…I'm not exactly about to tell this guy where all the bodies are buried. I know these things are supposed to be protected…but I'd lose respect for him if he doesn't turn me into the police. So I won't put him in the position to do so.

I say "I guess I really came here to talk rather than to confess. I know, I know, I should but…would it be alright if we just talk." I hear a door creak open, and close again, and I hear him say "Well I don't see a line forming, so we can talk here if it makes you more comfortable. I tell you, first people complain that confession is too short, and then we add hours and no one shows up until the end, ha!"

I laugh with him and nod to myself, saying "That's pretty funny." "Yeah…so, what troubles your mind? Or do you just want to talk sports? Politics?" I frown and say "Yeah…I actually have a question, it's been bouncing around my head and…I'm sorry I haven't even gotten your name, Father." "Oh, my name is de la Cruz, but you can call me Richard. I know, name like that, people joke that I was born into this. Well, go ahead, ask and I will answer as best as I can." Okay. I ask "The whole…I've heard the position of how, as long as you ask God for forgiveness for the evil you caused, accept Him, that wipes the debt clean off. I'm…I'm not asking if this is something I can do, not that, just to be clear. I just want to hear your point of view on that."

A few seconds go by, and Father de la Cruz answers "Well, that is actually related to the sermon I am planning for tomorrow's Mass. Yes, I hear this a lot, and it saddens me that too many people take that to heart and not understand the real meaning behind it. Specifically those that treat heaven as some pension waiting for them at the end of their days, as some reward. They adopt a superficial approach to life…almost a transactional approach, and those are the hardest to reach. To truly reach, because they think they serve God, but they only serve themselves. Quoting Luke 18…verses 10 through 14. Pharisee and a tax collector go to temple and pray. The Pharisee shouts, beaming with pride, how he is above others for his piety. For how much he fasts, how much he donates. He sees his good works like currency to pay for God's grace. Then you have the tax collector, standing far off aside, not making himself the center of attention. He doesn't even dare to look above, he just asks God for mercy for the sin he committed. Now, answer me, which of the two truly hold Christ in their hearts?"

With little hesitation, I answer "The tax collector." "Absolutely. God will know those that are sincere. He is not an idiot. Good works are their own reward. Living in accordance with God is its own reward. If one clings onto the belief that heaven is where they'll be sipping wine and playing shuffleboard, then they did not understand. They didn't not open their eyes. Heaven is being close to God, and from that closeness comes the fulfillment of all our desires. From that comes eternal happiness. So, yes, God will know his own. And it's never too late to understand, until He determines it to be too late." A pause for Father de la Cruz to cough, and he adds "That is a good question…thanks for asking. I think I got a few more ideas on how to phrase my sermon better, ha!"

I nod to myself and let myself smile a bit, and then say "Well, I think I'll head out before I create a line. Thank you Father." "We can continue this elsewhere, if you wish." I exit the confession box as Father de la Cruz does the same from his end, and I reach out with my right hand and say "Thank you, but I must return to my family now." The serpentine part of my brain reminds me why I'm here. I say "Vincent Gatdula, security guard." Idiot, why did you mention your 'occupation'? That will definitely make you come off as normal! Father de la Cruz nods briefly after an awkward pause, and then shakes my hand and covers our hands with his left palm. He speaks "Vincent, okay. I hope to see you again soon. I highly suggest tomorrow's Mass. I plan to go into great detail about what you asked." I nod and remove my hand first, saying "Absolutely, I will consider it. Thank you."

Exiting the cathedral, I sigh, alibi established. I reach into my pockets and remove my cell phone…text from Bianca. I open it and read…in Tagalog 'K is here, wants to speak to you'. What…what?! Kazemaru?! Oh fucking hell what does that prick want?! I run toward my now blue motorcycle and call her. C'mon pick up…"Hey Vinny? Almost done with the bank?" I quickly reply "Listen Bianca, is Cesar there? Where the hell is he?" She replies "Um, yeah he's on the couch watching TV, why what's wrong?" She's sounding concerned. She should be, Kazemaru doesn't do well around the opposite sex when left alone with them. Fucking psycho. I say "Just say you are going outside for some takeout, I don't know, make something up. I'll be there in ten minutes." "Vinny? I don't…" "Don't argue. See you soon." I hang up the call before she can say anything else and I finally get to my Honda. Keys…where are my fucking keys?! Fuck I feel my heart racing, relax, he's not going to do anything to her. Relax!

Entering my place, I knock on the interior side of my door with my left hand and anxiously say "Hey, Bianca?" Hear the TV on. Hear Kazemaru shout in Tagalog "Hey, over here!" I look and see if Bianca is anywhere. Removing my shoes, I hear her speak "Hey I got Chinese takeout for everyone. You good with kung pao chicken, Vinny?" Okay good, I was just being paranoid. I say "Yeah, that's good, thanks." I walk into the living room and find Kazemaru, dressed in a silk black and gold Versace print shirt that looks like it costed at least 50,000 piso, along with black slacks and blue boat shoes. And he has an expensive-looking watch on. Fucking idiot. He's watching what looks like the Tour de France, think it started today. Kazemaru says in Tagalog "Eh, just some preliminary practice runs or something."

Really annoyed, I ask "What are you doing here?" He holds his arms out, looking offended, speaking "What? Co-worker can't drop in for a friendly visit?" "Don't bullshit me." He shakes his head and speaks "Yeah, you definitely on your period." Bianca steps in, dressed in a grey t-shirt and black sweatpants, asking "So how did the bank go?" I frown and say "I…I actually had to go to church." Kazemaru laughs like a hyena and Bianca raises her left eyebrow almost to the top of her skull. She says "You…went to church." "I just needed a reference and the pastor was kind enough to give one. Listen Bianca baby, us guys got to talk business. Why don't you step out for a bit?" She sighs and glares at me, saying "I was just about to get the takeout ready. It's about to cool off." "Look, just a few minutes." She glares at me, as Kazemaru shrugs his shoulders and acts like he's innocent here. Bianca then sighs and rolls her eyes, saying "Alright, I'll step out."

I wait for the door to close, and I yell at Kazemaru "What the actual fuck is wrong with you?! Did you just get that fucking silk shirt yesterday?! And how about that watch?!" Kazemaru stands up and says "Fuck's your problem? You some socialist, telling me how to spend my money?" I resist the urge to clench my fist and I speak a bit more calmly "Look, given recent circumstances I'd think it's best to not make ourselves stand out so much." He snorts and waves me off, saying "What? You think you got heat on you? Relax, no witnesses stepping forward, they know better. Del Rosario is a stiff, he ain't going to touch you." "And you dropping his name too you fuck?!" Looking shocked and offended, he shouts "Oh now you think I got some wire up my ass?!" He claps his hands as I say "No! I didn't even imply that…" He reaches for his black belt and unbuckles it quickly, lifting his silk shirt up. Doing a 360 turn around, he shows off his back and chest, saying "See asshole? No wire. Wait, one more thing." He then takes a half step forward and…drops his pants and boxers down, showing off his shaved junk. Pointing at it, he says "Good enough, or do I gotta squat and cough too?!" "Put your clothes back on." "Oh I'm just setting the record straight."

His pants back on, he adds "Remember, I brought you into this. I made the connect. That counts as seniority where I stand, so don't tell me what to fucking do. I never did that shit to you." No, you just carried yourself like an asshole. Still do. He adds "Now I hope the priest dumped a gallon of holy water on your menstruating twat, so you can chill the fuck out already. You already missed a payday. And I got another one later in the evening." Oh for fuck's sake. I say "We ice a cop and have half the police force out for blood and you want to turn the heat up higher?" "It's good money, so I hope you got over your stomachache. Kung pao chicken huh? Gonna burn like hell coming out, haha!" Fuck it, I'll speak plain "We got too much heat, I'm being responsible here. Why can't Tommy send some other guys over to…wherever?" "It's in Binondo. And he wants guys like us there. Smart guys." What?! "Binondo?! We hitting Robbie Tong?!" "No, we ain't hitting Gold Teeth Tong. Boss Pogoy made good with the chinks, they are now friendly with us. If you actually came along last night, you'd have known."

All this at once. I sit down and ask "What the hell happened last night?" Kazemaru keeps his eyes glued to the TV and says "Some Mexican tourists came in with a lot of brown. We hit them good. Pogoy offered a heap of it to Robbie Gold Teeth as a peace offering, and the guy said yes. We're in business with the Triads now, so get used to it. All hatchets buried and all that crap. Anyway, we got a couple of people coming in today that we are going to snatch, and Robbie is lending us a place for it. You in? It's easy, you probably wouldn't even have to do anything." Shit…kidnapping. Ransoms. Means making sure they were not followed, they have no one expecting them fast, putting them in a safehouse. Work, work, work, and the police are already on edge. I ask "Some gangsters from Indonesia or something?"

Kazemaru turns to look at me, as if he wants to see my reaction. He smiles and says "Nah, tourists from Japan. Really connected." I take a deep and angry breath and say "Connected tourists from Japan…what, we ransoming some rich old farter and his wife? You know how much heat that is going to bring?! Japan…a country where the people there actually matter. You want Interpol involved? Fucking stupid." "Hey, you might even know them." "Oh fuck off man, you do you. I'm sticking out of this. Tell Pogoy I got bird flu or something, I'm staying out for a week, maybe two."

He stares at me, smiling, an angry smile, almost gritting his teeth. He says "Fine…I'll remember this but fine. Fuck it, we won't need you anyway, alright. Done. Get your broad back in here before she thinks we're sucking each other's cocks." "Oh you're a real prick Kazemaru, you know that?" He starts laughing as I walk to the front door, crack it open, and shout "Alright Bianca, come back in!"

Normally I prefer not to do 'work' on my day off, but watching a man get beaten to death with a tire iron and fed to sharks has made it difficult for me to enjoy the free time. So perhaps meeting Detective Carvajal on his time off would serve a useful distraction. We never met on our days off and rarely after work, but given the tragedy he suffered lately and the 'payback' last night, I guess it makes sense. I'm dressed in my officer blues pants for lack of anything else to wear, along with brown dress shoes and a buttoned grey and white vertically striped collared shirt tucked into my pants, my brown belt holding them up. My gold crucifix dangles around my neck, over my shirt. I'm holding a white plastic bag with a six-pack of San Miguel in my left hand, and I knock on the door to apartment 3A. Marlon Carvajal's apartment.

"Yeah?" I hear Detective Marlon Carvajal speak in English from beyond the door. I reply in Tagalog "It's Detective Molina." I hear the door's peephole slide open on the other side, and I hear him speak in a mix of Tagalog and English "Yeah? Were you followed?" Followed? What in the world? I speak "Uh, no…I don't think so…I got beer." He unlocks the door and I hear a creak as he opens it slightly, leaving it on the deadbolt. I see he is wearing black sweatpants, brown toeless slippers, and a sweat-stained white wifebeater, his belly poking under it, cigarette in his left hand. His previously shaved head now having a thin black peppering layer. He clearly hasn't been grooming his thick goatee lately, and his eyes look bloodshot, like he drank multiple cups of espresso. I see his neck has a bandage just below his chin. Maybe he tried shaving and gave up?

Detective Carvajal stares at me for a few seconds, and I feel uncomfortable. He peers at the space behind me, and then slowly removes the deadbolt, allowing me to enter inside a poorly lit hallway with a low wooden table on the left, the table having random papers, unopened snacks, mail, a switchblade, and a silver crucifix tied to a bead necklace. I place the bag with the beer on the table as Carvajal locks the door behind me, and I now notice that he is holding his police-issued Beretta 92 in his right hand. I ask "How are you Carvajal? Are you well?" Stupid question, but I am getting nervous now. "I'll live, I think. Make yourself at home. We have things to discuss." Yes, I know, about Tony the drug dealer from Tondo being digested in the stomachs of Manila sharks.

Walking past the messy kitchen on the left and the bathroom on the right, I step into the…living room…oh Christ. In the far end, in front of the windows, a large TV plays old boxing replays in English. To the left, a long L-shaped grey fabric sofa with stacks of books and papers and assorted junk, a table next to it with an ashtray and a dirty TV dinner tray. To my right, along the long wall, a web of papers, photographs, and documents held up by duct tape and crisscrossed with various colored strings that connect everything together in some way I cannot understand. I notice Felix Maralit's photograph taken at his booking, his toxicology report, the toxicology report for Carvajal's nephew Wilfred along with the teenager's photograph. Some gang members from Tondo, their mugshots. And…Ozamiz? Davao City? Chinese Triads? I nervously ask "What I am viewing here, Carvajal?" He lets out a tired laugh and speaks "Relax Artie, I haven't converted to Islam." I watch him knock ash into the ashtray and leave his cigarette on the tray. He turns back to the main hallway, leaves the gun on the hallway table to my relief, and collects two of my beers out of the bag. Even back when I knew him as a kid, Carvajal made me uneasy. Not scared, but nervous at least. As if he is easy to set off, like dynamite.

He presents me with an opened beer, himself holding his own, and I say "Cheers." "Cheers." We both take long gulps, his a bit shorter. He coughs violently and I reach to pat his back. He waves me off and stops, taking another sip. "Went into the lungs," he says, coughing a few more times. Pointing toward the TV, I think that's Mike Tyson fighting…someone, he speaks "That's a good one. I had money on Ruddock, thought he was the next big thing. Eh, shame how it all ended up. Was pissed for a while after." I hardly watch boxing so I just smile and nod awkwardly.

He absentmindedly stares at the TV, sipping beer, as I speak "Uh, Carvajal, do you want me to tell you what happened? It's done. Gatchalian and Brillantes did what…they did. The guy who sold Wilfred the narcotics." He just nods once and sips his beer again. As if he is on a different planet, and I am trying to hail him from earth. I speak out of frustration "Are you going to respond in any way or should I just leave? Personally, if I may confide, seeing his eyeball bulging out of the socket will haunt me for the rest of my life, and for our line of work, that is a truly impressive accomplishment." TV booms in English "Down goes Ruddock!" Lunging left hook from Tyson dropped Ruddock down on his rear, who quickly returns to his feet and waves in casual protest. As if to deny what happened. "He says he slipped!"

Carvajal finally turns to look at me, his eyes listless, as if he was lost at sea for a year and just came ashore to luxuries he once consigned to memory and nothing more. Another sip from his San Miguel and he speaks "I don't think the shabu made my nephew do what he did. It just made it easier for his scrawny body to do it." What? I…I take a shocked step back and speak "So I had to watch Gatchalian and Brillantes beat an innocent man to death for…what?! Not even anything?!" A slight snarling look from Carvajal and he speaks "Say that even louder so the people in Pasig can hear you. Anyway, the man sold meth to children. I'll let God sort out what He decides to do with him. Now, back at the wall. I need you to hear me out, and I pick you for this. Not because you are my partner on the force or anything, but being that makes this an easier call. Okay, what we say here does not go past here unless it has to. Understand." He speaks that last word more as a command than a question.

Taking a heavy gulp of beer, I speak "I don't understand anything at all, and I'm not going to agree to anything until I do. I did not become a police officer to watch private executions." "Oh, I'm sorry. Maybe you can arrange a prayer circle with the Captain Sakay," he replies brimming with sarcasm and exhaustion. Nodding to himself for some strange reason, he speaks "Okay, I've been having some of these copies made to me for my personal research. And…what my nephew did was consistent with our last case. Felix Maralit."

So now we are getting to the heart of the matter, though I do not see where he is going with this. An infectious case of psychosis spreading over Manila? I inquire "Is that relevant? Insanity by itself is not directly contagious…no offense to what happened to…well." "You think Wilfred snapped?" I nervously sigh, fearing that I have offended Carvajal at his most dangerous, and I say "Well, if the shabu didn't cause it, what else could?" "Do you think Felix Maralit did it because he snapped?" "Well, yes. From my interview of him, he clearly felt he did what was thought necessary. We have interviewed plenty that faked insanity, remember, but Mr. Maralit did not seem to have 'acted' the part. Again, I don't see the connection."

Carvajal walks within touching distance of the wall and points the lid of his beer at a few pictures connecting to Wilfred. The Tondo gang members. He speaks "The guy Joey and Amado picked up was one of the satellite spaceship tattooed trash. There have a couple of cases with them similar to Maralit and my nephew. I did some digging, and they were dismissed as typical psycho gang bullshit, but a couple of witness reports say they said similar shit to what Maralit said. Pale woman, blood-sucking demons. We both know that when lines like that repeat, there is something there." It's like life returned to him. Or loaned itself back to him, for now. He sounds more lucid, less robotic and aloof.

Yawning, Carvajal adds "Wilfred left a note in my sister's blood. Or his cat's blood. Doesn't matter…here." He points as a scrap of white paper written with blood in Tagalog. I lean forward and read "Anyone reading this I AM sorry BUT I need to GET THE PALE LADY from my thoughts I CAN'T GET HER OUT OF MY GET OF MY THOUGHTS GET OUT OF MY THOUGHTS!" The pale lady. The supposed Antichrist of Tondo. So he is repeating words spoken by Felix Maralit, and some of these Tondo gang members. This is very strange. I ask "What do you think?" "Me? I have no idea." "Why did you withhold this from evidence?" He stares at me with his reddish eyes and coldly speaks "I do not want Wilfred to go into the records as having snapped. Better it be recorded that someone poisoned him to do what he did." Okay, but I think I should have had a chance to…he's in grieving, he obviously is not thinking rationally.

Pointing with my beer at some of the penmanship on the wall, I ask "And where does Ozamiz fit in? Davao City?" Carvajal takes a healthy sip of beer and taps on the word 'Ozamiz' as written on the wall. He speaks "You heard what happened to Martin del Rosario, right?" "What? Who? No, I haven't, why? Is this a name I should know?" "Before your time I guess. He was part of the big hit in May 95 on the Kuratong Baleleng in Quezon. A lot of the roaches ran back to Mindanao after that, but then they came back quiet years later. Well Martin was put into early retirement and witness protection after the brutality investigations died on the vine. Anyway, a hit squad got Martin a couple of days ago. Joey got word from Mandaluyong where it went down."

Oh…oh! I speak "Okay, that's news to me." "They are massaging the reports to let it out the right way, but Joey told me that bounty hunters have been contacted. There will be a response." "And what does that have to do with these outbreaks of psychosis." "Just putting them on the board. I may be overthinking this, but Martin getting whacked just when these killings started? Coincidence?" "Absolutely, I cannot see any way how they're related. And Davao City? The Triads?" "If Kuratong Baleleng involved, then there will be a response from the other two. The paramilitary squads and Robbie Tong's boys in Binondo." What…that does not even make any sense!

"I still don't see the connection. Listen, Carvajal…Marlon. Words cannot express how horrible and tragic what happened…happened. I can see the toll it has taken on you. I advise you to sleep and take care of yourself. This isn't making any sense. When have you last slept?" "I go by four hours a day, good enough. Had stretches where I had worse, don't patronize me Artie." Extending my hands out in exasperation, I say "Yes, I admit the similarities in the psychosis killings are something to look into. But connecting it to the Kuratong Baleleng, was this your idea after hearing about this Martin del Rosario hit? If so, I'm sorry but you are just out fishing for tires and old boots, like in those cartoons. I cannot see where organized crime and these mental breakdowns or 'satanic possessions' fit in."

Carvajal sighs and turns away, walking toward the table near the couch. He places his mostly empty San Miguel on the TV dinner tray and sits down on the couch, collecting his cigarette. Taking a drag, he exhales and says "Maybe. It pisses me off. If this is something funky in the drinking water, I can't hit back at that. Satan playing his games? That's not where I can help. If it's a living, breathing human being that's somehow behind this, that's someone I hit back. Someone I can hit back. And there better be someone I can hit back, because Artie, I don't know how I'm going to handle this." He rubs his forehead and speaks "Thanks for the beer. You wanna watch some fights or something? I can drop this work shit for a bit." I frown and say "I think you need some sleep." He smiles a bit and says "Hm, maybe." I rather not stay here any longer than I have to. I speak "I think I should head out. If you need something from me, you have my number." He grimaces slightly and says "Yeah, yeah. I'll show you out."

"Do you want to borrow my phone to text Keiko?" I offer in Japanese, the awkward irony not lost on myself, as Yusuke finishes changing yen to piso at the currency exchange. A strong smell of savory meat and baked breads waft throughout the long and relatively crowded hallway leading away from the terminals at Ninoy Aquino International Airport. I see a small cafeteria called 'Yellow Cab', advertising New York style pizzas. I spot a presumed local family standing in line behind us, their daughter, possibly five or six, awkwardly biting into a puff-pastry she's holding with both hands. I believe those are called empanadas, probably the source of the smell.

Yusuke replies "Nah, it's fine. I'll charge my phone when we get to the hotel. Gotta speak with Koenma too. Final debrief. Hey look, this guy is doing the 'thinking' pose like in that European statue." I look closer at the peach and banana colored 500 piso banknote, showing a Filipino man in glasses and a collared shirt resting his left knuckle on his chin, as if in deep thought. 'Benigno S. Aquino Jr.' The nation's flag to his right, the English words under it 'Faith in our people and faith in God.' To the right, a phrase in English 'The Filipino Is Worth Dying For'. I speak in Japanese "I see, now is that settled? I believe we are causing a line."

A white Toyota sedan with the words 'Esmeralda Taxi and Limo' along the side door drives up to the curb of the taxi stand that Yusuke and I wait patiently by. A Filipino man in an orange construction vest that sports the words 'Taxi and Jeepney' in English, jeans, and a blue baseball cap snaps his fingers in the air and points at us two, shouting "Itong dalawang lalaki! Dito!" Presumably in the Philippine language. The driver exits, an overweight Filipino man wearing aviator sunglasses, a red shirt, and jeans, shouting "Okay boss, ah! Ow, ow, ow! Anak ng patak, hit my tuhod on the pinto ng kotse!" He walks into view, holding his right knee, as the taxi stand official laughs at our driver's self-inflicted injury. Shaking his head, the official says "Alright, they all yours. Ang kanilang hotel ay malapit sa Paco Park."

Our driver limps to his vehicle's trunk as Yusuke darts me a bemused and incredulous smirk, the former opening said trunk, miraculously without injuring himself. Our taxi driver asks "Hey, you Pinoy?" I pause in confusion, as Yusuke replies "Nah, we're Japanese. English good?" The driver nods and collects Yusuke's luggage, speaking "English always good." He collects my luggage as Yusuke and I enter the passenger row, Yusuke sitting behind the driver. I notice a large laminated poster stuck to the back of the driver's seat to my left. 'Gil Banderas'. Features his portrait. Another notice in English, both by the poster and on each window '200 piso base fare for Metro Manila with exceptions. 250 piso for Quezon, Valenzuela, Caloocan, Marikina, and Muntinlupa'. Mr. Banderas places himself on the driver seat without further incident, locks the car, and says "Okay guys, Paco Park yes? Do you have the exact address?" I reach into my back pocket and retrieve a printed sheet of my booking confirmation. Reading from the page, I declare "Pearl of the Sea Garden Hotel. Romualdez Street…" "I know the one. Okay, we go." He reaches for the radio dial and asks "Music good?" Yusuke replies "Go for it."

Exiting the airport region, we find ourselves onto a somewhat crowded highway, flanked by palm trees on our left separating our lane from the opposing traffic lane, and many more palm trees on our right, partially shielding several metal shacks and a low brick wall, the airport beyond the wall and barbed wire. A somewhat cloudy day, appears that rain is on the horizon. The radio sounds out in English "Cloudy day but that don't mean you gotta cancel your parade before it rains, you get me? Smooth Rock 95.7 keeping the sun shining on. Hang in there everyone, not saying it can't get worse but it can always get better in end. It always does. Let's make it a bit better. 'All That You Dream' by Little Feat." The radio plays a slow 70s American rock song. "I've been down, but not like thisss before. Can't be 'round, this kind of show no more." In no time, we find ourselves on elevated ground along the highway, a gas station below us and to the right.

Mr. Banderas speaks "So, you guys here on vacation or something? Scoping out the ladies, ha?" I already despise him. I cautiously steal a glance at Yusuke, who smiles awkwardly and says "Uh, nah man. We're on a business trip, meeting someone in the big Chinatown later." "All, all that you dream…comes to shine in silver lining. And clouds, clouds change the scene, rain starts washing all these cautions." Banderas speaks "Ah, Binondo, they got a few nice night spots east of it along Rizal." "What else can ya doooo? Just follow the rules. Uh, keep your eyes on the road that's ahead of youuuu." I interject "We are simply here on a business trip." "Yeah man, just letting you know the lay of the land here. Now, they got a bunch of swanky spots by the water, south of the Robinsons mall, but that's where all the tourists go. I know this spot, lotta people I send there say they had a hell of a time. Called 'The Flamingo'. I got their card, I'll give it to you later." Yusuke darts an annoyed look at me and I slowly nod, not responding to the referral to likely his relative's hookah bar. If I promise that I will tip him adequately, will he quiet himself? Banderas suddenly speaks "Hey, you like seafood? I know a good place in Mandaluyong, a real hidden gem." I am considering violence.

Standing on the sidewalk, I listen begrudgingly "Hey, enjoy your stay man! Remember to check out that bodega in Quezon! Best place for cheap bathroom tiles in the city!" Banderas hands me another handwritten note with an address that I look forward to forget. He waves once more and drives away, hopefully never to be encountered by me again. I glance briefly at the six handwritten notes for the businesses of his presumed relatives, and I toss them into a nearby street drain. Turning to Yusuke and holding my luggage's handle, I speak "After we check in, may we go for a quick meal and a strong alcoholic beverage. I was mentally prepared to strangle him."

Sitting on the king sized bed with beige sheet covers, while the TV shows this American movie that Kurama says is a good one, 'Three Days of the Condor'. Some white guy that's supposed to be a CIA nerd fighting with a mailman in this chick's house, mailman with this silenced submachine gun. Phone now charged at 5%. I turn it on, wait, still loading, there we go. I quickly text Keiko 'Hey, we just checked in. Phone died on the flight'. Hitting send, I leave my phone on the bed and check my Spirit Detective watch. Activating it, watching the fuzz for a bit, now the camera feed on with Koenma actually paying attention. I say "Hey Koenma, we checked in. What's the update on Rudy Altamirano? We still on for Chinatown?"

"Ah Yusuke, and Kurama, good to see you two settled. I actually have good news, Rudy notified me recently that Viorica has been captured, bounded, and moved to the original rendezvous location within Binondo. You two are needed to assist him in moving her to Mount Binuluan. There, you will meet with Shun-Jun and Sempronius Densus, two senior SDF agents, who will detain her and move her through the portal to Spirit World." So we gotta deal with those SDF clowns again? Ah, hate those weirdos. At least that makes our job a lot easier. I ask "Got it, where's the mountain?" "Volcano, and it's in the northern part of Luzon island. Near the northern point of the Philippines." "Okay, how far away is that?" "More than 400 kilometers. About eleven hours by car." Are you fucking with me, Gerber Baby?!

Kurama just smiles and raises his eyebrows like he himself agrees with how ridiculous this is. Screw it, we're here anyway. Just a road trip and we're done. All the heavy lifting looks like it's done. I say "Koenma, you are an asshole for making us haul the bitch to some volcano." "Would you prefer to take her to the portal in Mindanao? More than a thousand kilometers and through territory with heavy Moro insurgent presence. Need I remind you that any killed humans unaligned with Viorica will bring grave consequences from Father to me. So please, use your head Yusuke." "Yeah, yeah, I got it."

Kurama leans over and says "You certain that Viorica has been properly bound?" Leave it to fox-boy to bring up fetish play…I, really happy I didn't say that out loud. Koenma replies "Altamirano was well briefed. He assured that he took all necessary precautions. He also said he hired help, with Vijaya Aruna Kumaran still missing. You may recognize one of them. Hotaka Kazemaru." Kazemaru, Kazemaru…name really familiar, like it's in the back of my head somewhere. I say "It's like I should know that name but…" "Genkai's trial, your detective case against Rando? You fought him in the semi-finals." Oh…oh yeah! The bodyguard ninja with the manji tattooed on his forehead. I ask "Huh, what's he doing here in the Philippines?" "Unknown. I only today was notified by Altamirano that he is operating in the region. Admittedly it did surprise me, but Kazemaru was known for freelancing in Japan. Seems he moved his trade elsewhere. Now, is there anything else?" I reply "Yeah, we're starving so we'll hit a place to eat quickly first, then head over to Chinatown to meet with Rudy. Let him know we are on the way." Kurama suddenly speaks out "One more matter, Koenma." "Yes Kurama?" Koenma asks. After pausing for a second, like he's trying to get the words right, he speaks "There is a taxi driver operating in Manila, named Gil Banderas. Please note in his file that he is incredibly annoying."

I finally stop myself from laughing as Koenma finally stops staring and says "You have been spending too much time around Yusuke. Koenma out." What? I yell "Hey what's that supposed to mean?!" and he just disconnects before I can finish. Shaking my head, I check my phone and find a text from Keiko. Opening it…'Stay safe'. That's it, huh? Kurama turns the TV off and I say "Alright, wanna see what grub this Binondo got for us?"

A rather unimpressive eatery with booth seating, dark brown walls, and a clear view of the kitchen behind us. 'Top China Lumpia Boss'. A few others seated around the restaurant, aside from myself and Yusuke, mostly east Asian-seeming residents, a Filipino man in business casual attire seated behind us with a bowl of noodles. An older east Asian woman in an apron approaches us and speaks in Chinese-accented English "Hi, what can I get you?" Yusuke motions for me to go first, and I read off the laminated menu "I will have…hmm, I am curious as to what this Hainan chicken rice dish is. I will have one order. Do you serve whisky?" She jots down my order and speaks "No, we do not, sorry." Unfortunate. I inquire "Do you serve vodka?" "No vodka either, we only have beer." Beer. I sigh slightly and speak "I will have a beer then." "Okay, you want Budweiser? San Miguel? Heineken?" "Heineken would suffice, thank you." She pauses at my use of the word 'suffice', and then finishes recording my request. The waitress turns to Yusuke, the latter speaking "Alright, I'll have this San Miguel beer to drink, and…what's a lumpia?" "One San Miguel…ever had a burrito? Basically same thing, but with egg roll stuffing instead." "Sounds good, I'll have that." She finishes recording Yusuke's order and asks "Anything else?" I shake my head, as Yusuke mimics, and the waitress turns toward to kitchen.

I look right and inspect the assortment of sauce bottles, several unrecognizable. Yusuke grabs a brown squeeze bottle and inspects the supposed scent emanating from it, speaking "Think this some kind of Korean BBQ sauce or something. Or just BBQ sauce I guess." We return to silence, sudden awkwardness. Perhaps I should become accustomed to this, given what we engaged in during my 'Roman Triumph'. Oh Kurama you fool. More than nine hundred cycles around the sun and you commit the same idiotic mistakes again and again. A mostly married man, your dearest friend, sharing the same inner circle…shared more than that now. He was clearly vulnerable…AND intoxicated…no well, you cannot say he was more intoxicated then yourself…regardless you still preyed upon his temptation. Temptation.

If he…the words he spoke when we…shared a plowing of the Finngualan whore's fields. Are they, are they indicative of anything? Well, suffer a long enough life span and curiosity will eventually follow age I'd say, but his reaction was undeniable and I need to drift my thoughts elsewhere before I dig myself into a grave too cavernous to escape. I ask "How is Keiko?" Idiot, why?! Perhaps sports, cuisine, the in-flight entertainment of the Filipina woman that sat across the aisle to my right, who watched a presumed horror movie and constantly gasped and crossed herself rather than change the film to something else as a rational individual would do…Yusuke speaks "Eh, she's fine. I think. Like I mentioned yesterday, we had a fight last night." Yes, an argument of some sort…wait…no he did not. Of course he did not.

I speak "That's unfortunate. Concerns that you are away on another assignment?" Perhaps the best way to probe if Yusuke actually confessed to Keiko what transpired, without alerting him. Oh, unlike with others, I despise playing these little games with Yusuke, where I sniff out answers without revealing intentions. I always enjoyed a straightforward rapport and I truly wish to not see it lost. He grimaces slightly, enough for me to notice, and answers "More like wanted to come along. I told her she's freaking crazy. Did you know she went out hunting by the compound? Got boar blood all over the back of my car." Hunting? I speak "No, I did not. If you need assistance, I may be able to provide a solution to clean the blood out." "Thanks! I'll take you up on that. I tried with what we had and it wasn't enough." Smiling and nodding, I reply "Absolutely." And silence again, for a few seconds, broken by Yusuke speaking "You know I'm not going to tell her what happened without giving you a heads-up first." And he saw right through me, and now my embarrassment has grown tenfold. I nod shortly and reply "Yes, I know. Thank you." Never forget Kurama, that this was your doing.

The waitress brings us our beers, essentially just removed the caps and provided nothing more, and then returns to the kitchen after a ring sounds out. I sip from my Heineken as the waitress returns with two plates. Yusuke's meal is a large wrap covered in oily translucent paper, mine is a plate consisting of a boiled chicken breast, sliced into multiple widthwise pieces, bones remaining, and two boiled chicken legs, with white rice and sliced cucumbers on the side. The waitress points at a red sauce bottle and says "Chili sauce for the chicken. Enjoy." I take a large sip of beer and remove the plastic wrapper on my provided wooden chopsticks, as Yusuke fiddles with the lumpia wrapper. Collecting a breast slice, I remove the bone and lift the meat to my lips, insert…hm. Lifting my napkin to my mouth and quietly spitting the chicken into it, I place my crumbled napkin down on the table to Yusuke's confusion. As the waitress walks by, I whistle and speak "Pardon me, but it appears my chicken wasn't cooked." Waitress stares, almost dumbstruck, and then speaks "Hainan chicken is boiled and then chilled in ice water." Oh…why?! She begins to laugh and speaks "It's supposed to be that way," and then returns to her duties.

I turn to Yusuke, the latter snickering under his breath. I speak "Iced chicken. Lunacy." I proceed to recollect my deposited chicken slice and return it to my mouth, chewing. Swallowing. Disgusting. Yusuke pauses his initial bite into his lumpia and speaks "Wanna trade?" "No, but you are welcome to help yourself to the chicken. I'd imagine I'd tolerate a few more slices before I gag." "You know you can probably ask them to heat it up for you." "It's fine, I already feel more a tourist then I would have wished." I focus on the rice and cucumbers as Yusuke bites into his lumpia. He nods in approval, swallows, and announces "Yeah, this stuff's good. Sure you don't wanna trade? I can probably rip it in half." "That's fine, no need." Yusuke sets his lumpia down and tears it in half, somewhat sloppily, the stuffing partially spilling out. He places the unbitten half on my plate and uses his chopsticks to transport one of my chicken legs and three breast slices to his plate. I smile slightly and speak "Thank you."

I collect my half of the lumpia, stuffed with shredded lettuce, shredded browned carrots, some other root vegetable, shredded fried egg, pork, and onions. I bite into it, enjoyable, albeit somewhat overly salted. Should have ordered this instead, at the least. Trying the chilled chicken, he asks "What you think?" "I can eat this, thank you. How's the frozen chicken?" Swallowing slowly, he speaks "Not as bad as I was expecting."

Walking along Alvarado street, the constant sound of honking vehicles and pedestrians weaving around the slow moving traffic. Tangled webs of cables overhead, snaking from telephone pole to telephone pole. Sky darkening…no rain so far, despite the warnings up above. A young Filipino in an apron grills what must pass for shashlik or satay skewers in this culture, on a corner in front of a convenience store almost swarmed with cases of Coca-Cola, Pepsi, and this 'Apple Sidra' beverage. The man's grill is literally on the asphalt, a parked Honda Civic just behind him. "Smells good," Yusuke blurts out, and I admittedly find it tempting, after my encounter with cold served chicken. He continues "It's like Hong Kong in the movies, except almost everything is in English, or at least has an English translation somewhere, and the streets are all Spanish-names." Another vendor, a Filipina woman wearing a dark green hijab, selling sliced melons, mostly gigantic quartered watermelons, out of a red cart. She shouts "Isang daang piso! One hundred piso!" Yusuke whistles and says "Those are massive. Hundred piso each, heh? You can eat good on a budget here."

A bit further and we reach 'Binondo Castle Gardens'. A large, roughly ten floor building, with a mass of wiring webbed just above us, an entrance to a parking garage to our immediate left. A mob of motorcycles crowd the front, each with various advertisements on a canopy covering their sidecars, the sidecar seat appearing to be fabric. Several men sit either on the motorcycle or sidecar proper, two of them smoking cigarettes. Walking through the motorcycles, myself speaking "Pardon me," to an overweight man that I had to sidestep around, we reach the entrance proper, and spot a hanging red banner that shows "香港蓮社" Below it, in English, 'Hong Kong Lotus Society'.

We approach the glass double doors and enter through them, finding a rather lavish hallway of bright glass and mirrors, almost a golden tint, with a receptionist to our left. An east Asian woman in a black business suit and a barrette on the left side of her black hair. As we approach her, she speaks "Man shun haow. Nei hai lai chan ga sie woh man ng gei ah?" I assume this to be some Chinese language, Cantonese likely. Now I am reminded of my dealings with the fire demons back when I ruled Gandara. She notices our confusion, and speaks in English "Oh, my apologies, I thought you were here for the society dinner." I speak "It's fine, we have an appointment with…" I turn to Yusuke, who speaks "Yeah, with this dentist, Dr. Andrew Xie." She turns toward a ledger and mutters "Xie, Xie, Xie…okay, seventh floor. Elevator is second door on the right. May I have your names?" I quickly reply "Shinji Nakahara, and my associate Makoto Shimizu." We turn toward the elevators on our near right before she finishes jotting down our false names. Yusuke whispers in Japanese "That was quick. You just think of that on the fly?" Pressing the button to call the elevator, I speak "Generally, yes."

Elevator doors open, and the insides are mirrors bordered with brass. I hit the button for the seventh floor, elevator doors close, we move. It opens on the seventh floor, and I come face to face with a chunky light-skinned south Asian guy in a grey linen shirt, dark blue jeans, and a dark blue turban, guy has a thick beard and somewhat thin eyebrows. I can tell he has a pistol holstered above his left ankle, hidden by his jeans. He speaks English in a thick Indian or Pakistani accent, can't tell "Hey brother, I think you in the wrong place. Floor's closed." I reply "We're here for the dentist. Andrew Xie." He's standing in some hallway with a bunch of vases every couple of meters, lower half of the hallway walls are marble, upper half painted sky blue. A second guy that looks like the copy of the first, except a bit skinnier, with a slightly shorter beard, and with a black and red floral patterned dress shirt and a blood orange turban, looks like he could be his twin brother, he speaks in the same accent "Alright, they're the ones. Let them in." He's holding a pump action shotgun in his right hand…looks like one of those shotguns from that Counterstrike video game, the more expensive one.

We walk off the elevator, Kurama's eyes darting everywhere, and I ask "You with Rudy? Altamirano?" Orange turban guy just points to his left, our right, and says "Down the hallway. Just keep going." That doesn't answer my question. I look at Kurama, and telepathically speak "So, everything check out for you? Never heard of a Spirit Detective hiring thugs with guns. Think they're Kazemaru's people?" He nods his head toward the hallway and I follow. I hear him telepathically reply "Perhaps. Remain alert. If they are restraining Viorica, I admittedly do not see anything unwise with having mercenaries on retainer. I do not believe her powers would shield her from live ammunition." "Good point," I telepathically reply back, as we walk a long hallway, passing a bunch of random guys holding watch, most of them not even trying to conceal carry, some with shoulder holsters out in the open, holding pistols or submachine guns. Mostly Filipino-looking, aside from a couple of tall African guys, one Slavic-looking European guy with this condition where his left eye is brown and his right eye is bluish-green, and three more south Asian guys. None making any small talk, just eyeballing us like we're two clay pigeons. I'm not liking these assholes already.

Nearing the back of the hallway, a bald Filipino guy in jeans, a grey shirt, and a holstered pistol, whistles and speaks in Filipino-accented English "Through here." He knocks on the door that says 'Andrew Xie, DDS. Doctor of Dental Surgery.' The guy shouts "Hey Cesar, your friends from Japan are here!" Friends from Japan? Door opens inward and we walk in, finding this sterile-looking dental clinic lobby with this tall bald east Asian guy sitting on the counter, wearing a grey and dark blue lotus patterned leisure shirt, black slacks, and these blue slip-ons. He's also wearing a shoulder holster with a pistol sheathed, and is smoking a cigarette and typing something on his black sidekick smartphone while a short south Asian guy with a trimmed moustache and chin beard holds the door for us. South Asian guy's dressed in a black dress shirt, green chinos, and is holding an Uzi submachine gun in his right hand. East Asian guy's really familiar…I ask in Japanese "Hey…Kazemaru?"

Closing his sidekick phone, he pockets it and turns to us…yep, it's him. Taking the cig out and pointing it as us with his right hand, he says in English "Y…Yusuke right? From that old lady's tournament?" I nod and switch to English "Yeah, I remember kicking your ass back then." He raises a threaded eyebrow and says "Damn, must be developing some of that Alzheimer's disease or something. Pretty sure you only won by a bullshit fluke." I laugh and extend my arms out, saying "Hey, check the record books. Says I won that tourney. Anyway…so, how'd you end up here? These your guys?" He shrugs his shoulders and replies "Eh, work's work. The Pinoys pay good here, and I like the weather more. Fuck if I ever see snow again."

The south Asian guy closes the door behind me as Kazemaru says "Hey Rafiq, think we should hit Robbie's 'gathering of the intsiks' downstairs? I'm craving some shumai." Rafiq, the south Asian guy, speaks in this Indian or Pakistani accented English "If that receptionist is still there. Swear it, never before saw blowjob lips on a Chinese, haha!" Kazemaru laughs and says "Oh, think the guy that runs my local laundry fits that bill too, wanna get introduced to him?" "Hey fuck you my brother, haha! Laundry guy…" Rafiq replies, as Kurama telepathically speaks to me "Charming. Was he always such a neanderthal, or is this a recent development?" I reply "Can't say I knew him long enough to know but not exactly how I remembered the guy." I then speak out "So, we done measuring dick sizes or can we get this done? We're here to see Rudy. Heard the escapee from the Romanian zoo got caught."

Kazemaru climbs off the desk counter and says "That Viorica bitch? She gives me the creeps. Sooner we're done with her, the better. Might even ask for hazard pay after she's out of our hands." Kurama suddenly speaks "How did Rudy know to hire you? How do you know him?" Kazemaru waves his hands out and says "Hey, our boss says jump, we jump. You can ask Rudy yourself, never met the guy before today. Anyway, he's over here. Follow me." Kazemaru puts his cigarette back into his mouth and takes a drag, walking along a smaller hallway through this dental clinic. He turns toward the first door on the left, and I notice that Rafiq is following behind me and Kurama. Uzi still in hand.

Knocking on the door, he shouts "Hey Doctor Yankem, we got two fucks from Tokyo that need anal root canals, haha!" Heh? Rafiq suddenly speaks "Hey, ain't Robbie still downstairs? That's Rudy on the can." Kazemaru turns to our direction and shoots a dirty look at Rafiq, saying "I ain't talking about fucking Chiang Kai-Shek. God, I'm talking about a joke here, Rafi. You know. Comedy." He rolls his eyes and continues "Hey Yusuke, whoever the fuck you are…word of advice, don't go knocking up any of your relatives. Or else she'll squeeze out someone as retarded as Rafi over here." I turn and watch Rafiq flip the double bird at Kazemaru. I let out an awkward laugh as Kazemaru turns back to the door and shouts "C'mon Rudy, if you're shaking your dick more than twice you ain't pissing, you're masturbating!" Hear someone speak in Filipino-accented English "One second, please."

Hear the toilet flush, and then a sink turn on. Waiting, for I guess Rudy to finish taking a dump or something. Nice timing. I telepathically speak to Kurama "Well, I guess I had less awkward introductions." Hear him laugh a bit under his breath. The bathroom door finally opens and out comes this Filipino guy about my height, maybe an inch shorter, wearing a black shirt that says the word 'Strike!' in orange above a bunch of crumbled white bowling pins, along with light blue jeans, black and white Nike sneakers, and aviator sunglasses. His black hair is gelled and slicked forward, he has a bit of chin stubble in addition to a thick, wide, almost walrus-like moustache that would feel at home on Yamagata Aritomo's face, and he's wearing a gold crucifix chain around his neck, the crucifix barely poking out of his shirt. And I see that he has two pistols holstered around his ankles and hidden under his jeans. The guy, I'm assuming Rudy, just stares at me blankly, and at Kurama, like he's looking at a pair of ghosts or something. Covering his mouth, he speaks "Pardon me," and coughs into his right hand. He continues "You two are here, good. I have Viorica just ahead, beyond this door." Hear it start to rain outside.

Feel this weird tension going on…I mean we are about to grab one backstabbing spirit detective. Maybe it's a seasonal thing. Hear Kurama speak telepathically "Goes without saying, be alert. Altamirano is acting strangely." "Always ready," I reply back as Rudy turns toward the far door at the end of the hall and opens it, showing a dental chair with the overhead light stuff missing, and this pale eastern European looking lady with dark brown hair, thick eyebrows, and a bob cut hairstyle, tied to the chair with rope. She's wearing green and white striped running shoes, worn out denim jeans, and a mid-sleeve beige T-shirt. She's got a black bandana blindfolding her. To her left is a window leading to a fire escape, to the left of the window is an L-shaped baby blue counter with overhead light brown cabinets and a metallic sink in the middle, plus a heavy wooden chair in front of an old computer on the counter. Behind Viorica and to the right are a bunch of posters on the white wall, one in English, another in I guess some Chinese language, both showing X-Ray diagrams of a lady's mouth and teeth, with arrows pointing at various parts with labels on the arrows' tails. Damn I hate dental visits.

Kazemaru and Rafiq stand behind as Rudy, Kurama, and I fill into the room. I ask "So, what's with the dental office? One of your friend's letting you use it as a safehouse?" Viorica suddenly speaks in this eastern European-accented English "Who's there? Who are you?" She licks her lips and swallows saliva, and adds "How much longer am I to be bound? Either shoot me or let me be, I have done nothing to you." I feel Kurama tap my shoulder, almost caused me to jump. He walks past me, and I watch him speak "Viorica Onicescu. I believe we have previously met." He's got some sting in his pronunciation, like he's starting to boil a bit. Rain getting heavier outside.

A short but really creepy laugh by Viorica, and she replies "I recognize that voice well enough. Shuichi Minamino, he pantomimes to name himself. Now tell me, did Mirko Karapandža inform you of your beloved's untimely and savage demise before your…'duel'…commenced? Or after? Did you find enough of her to bury? I recall that souls weep deeply when their last rites remain unfulfilled." Kurama…he clenches his fists and almost shows his teeth, I don't usually see him like this, wow. This is…she speaks "Go on, remove my blinds. I want to stare you in the eyes as you answer me." He speaks "What kind of two-dimensional buffoon do you take me for?" I hear a drawer open and I watch Rudy pull out…a pear? Leaving the drawer open, he turns the sink on and washes the pear with his right hand, as Kazemaru's cigarette smoke starts to make its way into the room. Kurama and I watch Rudy wash the pear, and then back at Viorica, with Kurama adding "You will be delivered to Spirit World where they will sort out your punishment accordingly. Perhaps I will watch the sentencing." Rudy turns the sink off and shakes his pear a few times in his left hand, as Viorica replies "Of course, King Yama's lap dog will think of nothing more. Tell me, Kurama, former Bandit King of Gandara, the once landed noble of Giurgiu, he who once held the lives of so many in his hands, is that the extent of your ambition? To serve a glorified doorman?"

Kurama crouches and gets within an inch of Viorica's blindfolded head, almost ready to whisper into her ear. He's almost smiling angry, like he might bite through his gums if they get in the way. I get ready to jump in and pull him away…not used to seeing him lose his cool like this. He speaks "Ambition? I serve no one but myself, as I always have and always will. A slave to creature comforts, if I may speak bluntly, but I know where I originated. Much more than can be spoken of yourself. Faced with protecting the very soil that sprouted you, you rallied to the side of a conniving fucker of goats and a Hunnic horde plotting to sack your lands and exterminate your very identity. The ancient Romans have a word for such a caste. Whores." Okay he's dropping f-bombs now.

Viorica just smirks and snorts air, as I pull Kurama away and hear Rudy take his first bite out of that pear. Patting him on the back, I whisper to Kurama "Take it easy man." He puffs his cheeks and nods a bit, looking down, and then turns to Rudy and asks "Have you arranged transportation to northern Luzon?" Rudy finishes chewing, swallows, and says "All arrangements have been made. Shall we start?" He takes another bite of his pear as Kurama says "Yes, absolutely." He turns to face Viorica and I do the…the blindfold is off, the ropes are off, and she's sitting on the chair upright, saying "I couldn't agree more."

*BANG* *BANG*

We both flinch and shake a bit, and then turn around and find Rudy pointing two Beretta 92 pistols at us, the bitten pear now on the counter. I check my chest, legs, Kurama does the same, we look back past Viorica and see no bullet holes on the walls, and then quickly turn back to face Rudy. Kurama then immediately reaches into his hair, pulls a seed out, and speaks "Move quickly." He jerks his right hand to…nothing happened. I stare at his arm, he stares at the seed. He shakes his arm again, trying to turn it into his trademark rose, and then another time. Darting a confused look at me, he tries again, and again, faster each time, and then his eyes widen and he mutters "No, no, no." Viorica laughs, her laugh making my skin crawl, and I hear her say "Performance troubles? I heard it may sometimes manifest at this age." Screw this…I cock my right arm and charge a hook at Rudy's forehead. Boom, almost knocked his aviators off…he doesn't move…FUCK MY KNUCKLES! Shit it's throbbing…what…the…fuck?!

Kazemaru draws his pistol…looks like the Glock pistol from the videogames I played. Rafiq aims his Uzi, and I'm holding my knuckle trying to figure out what the hell is going on here. Kurama whispers in Japanese "Do you hear me telepathically?" I yell in English "Fuck no! Rudy, fuck you did to me you fucking asshole?!" He looks like he just shivered, and his jaw slacks a bit, and he says "Forgive me, Kaikeyi has decreed. Ayodhya shall make exiles of you once again." Kazemaru speaks "Nice and easy Yusuke. On your knees, hands behind. You too, Red." I hear Kurama just mumble to himself, and I see him looking all over the place, a real panicked face he's showing.

*BOOM*

Shockwave sending me to the ground! Lights out, flashing lights, they're shooting! "I CAN'T SEE SHIT, STOP SHOOTING BEFORE YOU HIT ME!" Kazemaru shouts. I feel Viorica grab my neck, trying to choke me, heavy rain now, lightning strike outside, I run back and slam Viorica against the wall…that actually took effort! She falls off my back and I hear her thud on the ground. See silhouette of Kurama grabbing the chair and throwing out the window, yelling in Japanese "RUN!" He jumps through the broken window and I do the same, shit cut my knee on the glass a bit, actually hurts! What the fuck?! Why is the little stuff now having an effect?! Feel the metal catwalk of the fire escape, getting soaked in rain, gunshots ding the fire escape, Kurama pulls on my arms and I get on my knees and on my feet and we run down. Another bolt of lightning and I hear Kazemaru yell in English "Get those fucking pricks!" "DON'T STOP KEEP RUNNING!" Kurama yells in Japanese, stumbling while running down another flight of the fire escape, adjusting his Swallows baseball cap along the way to keep it from flying off. I follow, hear people on the fire escape above us, look up, see three of them. Kazemaru, Rafiq, and Viorica, and…there's a fire coming from the top floor, black smoke, I, I, I think a bomb went off. *BANG* Shit, they shot at me! I fall backwards and roll down, ugh, another flight, and I feel Kurama pull me onto his shoulders. I yell "I'm good now!" and have him let go, and shit they are shooting down at us! And I'm…running low on breath, HOW?! I think three more floors left, there's a huge mob of people running out of the building, screaming, running into traffic as cars honk up and down the block. Alleyway below, we get past another flight of stairs, and then Kurama waves an overhand right at the air and jumps off the catwalk at a dumpster below. I do the same, please not be full of needles, please not be full of needles…argh, we land. Looks like someone threw out an old mattress. Lucky us.

Kurama picks his hat off the mattress and puts it back on, and we both jump out, the gunfire stopped. We crouch and hide behind the mattress dumpster as I hear sirens, lots of siren, see more debris fly down to the alleyway from the top floor. Kurama squeezes my right shoulder and says in Japanese "Back to our hotel. Do not stop for anything." "Okay, okay." We get back up and get back to running…it's getting hard to run. Almost at the end of the alley, see the other street up ahead, a lot of east Asians and Filipinos trying to find cover from the rain, hiding under awnings, some crying, some screaming, hear a guy shout "Fucking Moro basura! Mga hayop kayong lahat! I hope we kill every one of you Muslim cunts!" Another woman shouts "Kristina! Nasaan ka?! KRISTINA!" Kurama and I hug the wall, behind an old parked Toyota Sienna minivan. He whispers "Act casually and blend in with the crowd." "Yeah, I get how this works." We move from the minivan and get onto the street…loud sirens, see a red and black firetruck glare flashing white and red strobe lights and blasting the siren. Must be the first responders. I stick close to Kurama as we walk around the huge crowd, hear more crying, hear a woman speak in Chinese-accented English "Has anyone seen my son?! Wearing a white shirt with brown suspender pants, five years old, bowl hair cut?! Has a dimple on his chin! Anyone?! ALEX! ALEX WHERE ARE YOU?! ALEX!" We walk past an overturned fruit stand, bananas and strawberries all over the sidewalk, an old east Asian woman talking on the phone in Chinese-accented English "Yeah! Bombed the Castle Gardens! Yes I'm okay, some people knocked the stand over but I'm fine. It's crazy here, first firetruck just arrived…I'm going to go home, tell Rodrigo that his mother-in-law is fine." See a blue van with a red cross on the side blast a siren and flash red and yellow strobe lights, coming up the street, people trying to let it go through. Hear the fruit vendor lady say on the phone "Yep, there's the first ambulance now. Okay, I have no idea how long this will take with traffic. Wish me luck."

At last in our hotel room…our clothes thoroughly soaked through. And…and…my spirit energy is…gone. H-how…how is this even possible? It required effort to jog here…it required effort to throw the chair through the window. How…can a mere psychic as Altamirano, how can he be able to seal my powers so? I…I-I…hear Yusuke shout in Japanese "Kurama you going to just stand there and soak the floor?!" He's removing his clothes, now down to his red boxers. Slight redness on his right knee, bleeding long stopped. He removes his flip phone from his crumbled soaked jeans, and then displays me the fragments. Snapped in half. I inspect mine, cracked screen, the buttons…only five, nine, and zero respond to my input. I speak "Only three digits functioning. Insufficient for even a speed dial." I shake my head in anger, and then inquire "Have you attempted to contact Koenma?" "No, not yet, one second," Yusuke speaks, inspecting his spirit watch, as I remove my Swallows baseball cap and run my left hand through my drenched and matted hair. I toss my cap on the floor and proceed to remove my sneakers, my thoroughly soaked socks, and then my belt. Yusuke taps his fingers on the watch, muttering "C'mon Koenma, c'mon. Work, work damnit." A short pause, and then he solemnly announces "It ain't working. Shit."

I exhale deeply and recline against the wall, sliding down slowly, until I arrive at the nadir. I prepare to remove my polo, and then I stare at my hands. Study them, my knuckles, my palms. "You okay there, Kurama?" I hear him say. I ignore him and run my hands through my hair again…all of my seeds have fallen, disappeared. Nothing remained to holding them in place, permitting gravity and physics to finally triumph over me. I reach into my…wait…wait! My right jean pocket…my pouch of seeds! I remove it and open the string…very damp but still intact! Here…one of these…two…four, I hurriedly toss the seeds into my mouth. Swallowing…my their residues are foul and bitter…nothing. Nothing. "Anything?" he asks. I shout "NOTHING!" Gritting my teeth, I grab a few more appropriate pills, chew them…ARGH, disgusting…chew them, swallow. Nothing. I feel nothing. I-I…I tilt the pouch and try to swallow every last fucking one of them. Argh…argh…"Woah you trying to choke on that?! Cut that out!" He walks over and I shove him aside, pushing his left knee…I'm choking…I'm choking on my own seeds. "What the fuck man, you need water?" Can't breathe…trying to…"Kurama what the fuck?!" He violently smacks my back, a clump of matted foul bitter seeds exit my mouth and fall onto the floor. I hear the downpour finally beginning to ease.

He chastises "You sure that's safe even if you took it slow?! Don't go ODing on some weird demon sunflower seeds!" Tears down my cheeks, caused from my choking. I wipe them and reply "Choking on my own seeds. It appears the universe has a knack for biting irony." "Kurama what the hell? If it didn't work, it didn't work." Kurama he calls me still. I weakly laugh and speak "Kurama has suffered an ignominious and prideless death. It is just Shuichi Minamino now." He holds his hands up the air and groans in exasperation. Slapping them against his near-naked self, he retorts "Enough with the drama show. Rudy didn't shut your brain off, make you stupid, right?" He dramatically points at his own head and continues "So use your head and think of something! I don't know…we try to get to a payphone and call home? Have Kuwabara and Hiei reach out to Botan and Koenma? Get us out of here? Fuck, maybe just take the next flight back home? We still got our passports. I can't think this will be permanent…right? It can't be…it has to wear off sometime."

Hmph, perhaps. I speak "Payphone may be best option we have…so be it." I sigh and add "As the red-haired human you see before you, I at times wished…or perhaps pretended to wish, that my demon self…ceased to exist. That I simply reincarnated as a human…with no trace of the man I was before. Ironically, it seems my wish was granted, in a way." I remove my drenched polo and rise to my feet, removing my jeans as well. Yusuke turns toward his luggage case and retrieves a clean pair of grey boxers, removing his soaked boxers, revealing his damp naked crotch. Not as if a week has passed since I last seen it, perhaps modesty is the least of our concerns. I sigh once again and approach my opened luggage case, fishing out a pair of brown and blue striped boxers. Removing my current wet pair, I toss them aside and walk into the bathroom, collecting a towel.

As the two of us dry ourselves, I speak "I find it curious that Viorica did not activate her powers immediately." Yusuke dries his right leg and replies "She tried to choke me out when the bomb went off. How does her powers work again?" "It's not entirely clear. She was able to keep a powerful mercenary, Thabang, in suspended stasis for several months. I'm not entirely sure if that was her work or Mirko's, or some other creature in Mirko's faction. As for Viorica herself, a smokescreen shielded me when she revealed her true allegiance in Giurgiu. Hence why we, and Altamirano, were briefed that she needed to be kept blind. If so…" "Think Rudy may have gotten to her like how he got to us?" Yes…yes. Perhaps, no, more than perhaps. I dry my left foot and speak "Likely. Viorica Onicescu was the lure. Rudy Altamirano is the chief actor in this stage play. Another spirit detective joining the horde beyond the Seliyan?" Rubbing his hair with his towel, Yusuke quips "Maybe if Koenma actually paid us, this wouldn't be a problem. Should we ask Sabum and Supaku about their dental plan?" "Very funny," I dryly reply, cleaning my right foot. I grab my boxers left on the closed toilet seat and clothe my genitals.

Exiting the bathroom and returning to my luggage case, I select a pair of black chinos, a plain thin white undershirt, and a thin buttoned sky blue and yellow plaid shirt. I then reach for my spare shoes, red Adidas sneakers. Putting my clothes on, I approach the window of our hotel and push the blinds aside, looking down at the darkening sky and the street below…oh no. I shout in Japanese "Yusuke dress yourself immediately!" Three men exit a just parked white sedan, one inspecting his pistol before hiding it behind his beige cargo shorts and under his black polo. What to do, what to do? Yusuke finally begins to rummage through his luggage as I speak "Three men, one confirmed armed. Do you have anything to defend ourselves with?" "Shit…my car keys?! I don't know!" He quickly puts on a pair of old blue jeans and a faded green and dark blue horizontally striped polo. How to respond…how to respond…I position myself under the window, remove the lock, and quickly open it. I then lift the mosquito net up as well.

Yusuke finally puts on his belt, a fresh pair of socks, and returns to wearing his wet running shoes. I command "Get the sim cards out of our phones. Hurry!" and then rush into the bathroom, opening the mirror cabinets. Nothing, nothing…nothing I can…nail clippers. I…perhaps they can be of use. I speak "Yusuke get your car keys and meet me here when you are done." I open the purple shower curtains, climb inside the bathtub, and Yusuke finally enters the bathroom. Motioning him to me, I whisper "Hide in here with me." He turns to close the bathroom door, and I speak "Do not lock it, just leave it closed." He nods and follows me into the bathtub. We adjust to make ourselves more comfortable, with myself now sitting on his left knee, and I pull the shower curtain shut, concealing ourselves. As best as we can, at least.

A knock on the door to our hotel, another, hear a man shout in Filipino-accented English "Housekeeping! Complementary wine and crackers!" A long pause, followed by another knock, and a sudden kick that likely cracks the door open, the commotion causing both of us to flinch. I calm my breathing and attempt to count the footsteps. A second man speaks "Hey, wala sila dito. Check the bintana, fucking got away." A third man speaks "Sabi ko sayo! We should have gotten gas kagabi, but kinailangan mong uminom ng sarili stupid again. Next time you sumuka in my car, matutulog ka sa highway."

I let out a quiet breath and feel Yusuke do the same. One of the men speaks "Okay, kailangan kong pumunta shit. Let me know kung tumawag si boss." Hear someone opening drawers, another tossing what I presume is mine or Yusuke's clothes around. Hear…the bathroom door open. My heart beats faster, and I feel my throat stifling my breathing, as I clench my grip on my nail clippers. Very…very faint silhouette a man holding…something…staring at the bathroom mirror, and…I believe he turned his gaze, either to the distant wall or to us directly. A chill runs down my neck. I watch the silhouette reach out for…something…and I hear the door close and lock. One of the men outside the bathroom speak "Found anything?" The other replies "Versace cologne and Hugo Boss. Mga punyeta got money, man!" The silhouette now reaches out for the sink, and I watch the man place something on it with a slight clang. His gun, I assume.

I hear him unbuckle his belt, drop his…pants I'm assuming, and seat himself on the toilet just beyond the curtain. If I can faintly see…then so could…we need to be silent as mice. I turn my head to face Yusuke and gesture with my right hand, shaping my right hand as a gun and pantomiming turning on a sink. Yusuke shakes his head, shapes his right hand like a gun, points at it with his left hand, pretends to fire a shot, and then shakes his head once more. Is he trying to indicate that his spirit gun is unavailable? I already know that. I shake my head again, then shape my right hand as a gun once more and mime placing it on a flat surface. Yusuke's eyes light up and he now nods, appearing to understand, as the assassin on the toilet loudly defecates, as if a balloon just popped. Awful smell, I fight the urge to cough as one of those assassins in the bedroom shout "Sus, Jimmy! Did you eat a buwaya para sa almusal?!" Presumably Jimmy shouts back "I ate puki ng nanay mo. Tasted like kare-kare haha!" One of the men inside the bedroom also laughs as the third mutters "Putanginang payaso."

I see the upper half of his body faintly through the curtains…Jimmy is…I hear him pressing buttons on…something, presumably a phone. I delicately scoot backwards, gripping the lower corner of the curtain with my left hand…slowly and quietly pulling it across, granting me a couple centimeters of clear visibility. He suddenly stops pressing the buttons, and my heart sinks, and I quietly exhale and blink a few instances…he resumes pressing buttons. I continue tugging ever so slightly…just a touch more "Nag-iwan ba sila ng anumang aspirin?" What?! Oh…oh good, he is addressing those in the bedroom about something I cannot comprehend…my body froze at the sudden statement. From a weak human with a pistol…when hours prior I had the power to threaten those that would pass as living Gods amongst even the mighty. The absurdity of this…my blood boils as I hear from the bedroom "Nope, found a pouch. Empty." At least I understood that.

Jimmy resumes pressing digits on his phone, as the widening window grows to four centimeters. Wide enough for me to retain the element of surprise without tangling myself. I turn to Yusuke briefly and nod. He nods in turn, and I press my left hand against the wall, bring myself to a crouched position…swipe aside the curtain and leap out of the tub and cover Jimmy's panicked mouth before he can utter a sound and press his neck against the toilet tank and ready my nail clippers and plunge at the curtain-side of his neck and clip and tear and clip and tear as Yusuke restrains his right arm and blood splatters and sprays the curtain and my right arm and his left hand claws at my chest as I clip and tear and clip and tear and clip and tear.

"Putang ina, anong nangyari?!" one of the assassins shouts from the bedroom, as Jimmy's eyes grow deathly still, and his head slums to my right, resting on my blood-soaked clipper-wielding arm. Adrenaline courses through my body as my heart beats with such fury as if to break free of its cage. "Jimmy you okay?!" the other assassin yells, as I let Jimmy, a Filipino male barely in his 20s, with short black hair, a grey shirt, and dark green cargo shorts around his ankles, the head of his flaccid prick resting on the toilet seat, fall down, partially to the ground, partially to the splattered curtains. His dead body smears his excrement along the seat as he becomes inert, straining the loops of the shower curtain with his upper torso. I break free of my stupor and snap my fingers at the sink, and Yusuke quickly obliges by turning the water on.

Dropping the nail clipper in the bowl mired in dung and blood, I quickly rinse my right arm of blood as a loud knock reverberates from the door. The blood under my nails refuses to vacate…damn this. I instinctively reach for the pistol and crouch by the door, as the knocking ceases. Aiming my pistol, I watch Yusuke's right hand appear in view as he pushes down a small switch on the side of the pistol, revealing a red dot. He then pulls down a grey keychain-seeming part on the back of the pistol, whispering into my ear in Japanese "Safety was on." Crouching to my right, Yusuke peers at the thin space under the bathroom door…two dark spots now materialize, the threat stands directly behind. I squeeze the trigger. *BANG* *BANG* *BANG*

A woman screams, possibly from a lower floor of the hotel, as I hear a loud thud beyond the door. Three holes in the door, and I peer through the lowest one, seeing a convulsing mass beyond. Standing up slowly, I am halted by Yusuke, who pulls back on the top of the pistol, causing a previously stuck…bullet shell I presume…to eject and join the other two on the ceramic floor. I notice writing in English on the side of the pistol…'CZ-75 SP – 01'. 'Made in Czech Republic'. Hmph, my mind briefly drifts to my past. I thought of turning toward Praha with Mirko during my mercenary days, to fight against Jan Zizka's and the Prokops' men under a mercenary contract. Maybe if we went west instead of south, maybe things would have progressed differently. No time to dwell anyway.

Approaching the knob on the bathroom door, I unlock it, and yank it toward my direction with force, aiming and finding a long haired Filipino man in his late twenties, wearing a green and white vertically striped polo and blue jeans, convulsing on the ground, his eyes flickering, one bullet wound in his upper chest just below the neck, one around the lower end of his left lung, one in his waist just to the right of his crotch. A pistol rests on the ground by his right leg, several centimeters away from his grasp.

I crouch down once more and aim my pistol right, leaning slightly out, just short of passing the cover of the cabinet and the television. No one to my right, then that settles it. I turn perpendicular to the dying assassin, quickly lean right and out of cover *BANG* *BANG* Hell! I fire! Striking the man in the chest! He bounces his head off the wall safe and drops his pistol! Running out, I kick his pistol backwards and look back, finding Yusuke holding the dying man's pistol. Turning my attention to the third assassin, I watch him crawl on his knees and stomach away, to the side of the bed, coughing. Hear him speak "Oh…pakshet…uh."

Yusuke closes the kicked-in entrance door as I approach the final assassin, short haired Filipino in a red short-sleeve shirt and dark brown cargo shorts, with a gold watch around his right wrist and a silver crucifix necklace around his neck, dragging itself across the carpeted floor. He stops at the wall, just by a side drawer and a lamp, and turns onto his back, sitting up. He appears young, barely eighteen if that, and has a tattoo of a snake head poking out of his shirt and by his neck. I aim the pistol at his head. Holding his wounded abdomen with blood-stained hands, he speaks in an anxious and methodical voice "Huwag mo akong patayin." Finishing his undecipherable sentence with a deep exhale, as if strained by the effort to speak. I ask, with cold venom, and in English "Who sent you to kill us?" The wounded hitman, his eyes never breaking contact with mine aside from an occasional blink, he replies in Filipino-accented English and a methodical, yet terrified tone "Please don't kill me."

Finding myself at an impasse, I reach for the bed sheet with my left hand, and I pull the sheet over the man, as he turns away and mutters "Ama namin, sumasalangit Ka, sambahin ang ngalan Mo…" I take a slight step back and pull the trigger, hearing the man slump, as the bed sheets stain in his blood.

Sighing, I speak in Japanese "Inspect their bodies for a car key. We have to move with haste. I suggest exiting through the window."

So, not even a full day here, and we already escaped a backstab and a terrorist bombing with our powers shutdown to the point that punching someone in the skull hurts my knuckles. And Kurama shot three contract killers to death. Fuck, that first kill is going to stick with me for some time…never thought of nail clippers being used that way…shit I feel a shiver as I drive around this blue short bus with horses painted on the sides. Hitting the brakes before a red light, in a dead guy's stolen Ford Crown Vic. Even got fuzzy dice hanging from the rear view mirror.

Kurama's finishing off a bottle of Snapple iced tea, we had to stop and buy something so he could 'get the bitter taste out of his mouth'. He's really on edge, which sucks cause he has a gun tucked in his chinos. Which is a sentence I never imagined I'd think to myself. Radio plays what the DJ said is 'Let's Go' by this English band called Wang Chung, while we keep a lookout for a payphone…okay the whole keeping guns tucked around pants thing is really not comfortable…shit my gun is chafing against my right side. "I'll meet you anywhere you want. I'll meet you on a ballroom floor. Meet me and we'll float to a level above." Hate driving at night when I don't know where the fuck I am, and people here like to cross the street randomly like they pretend we don't exist and that we will just phase through them like ghosts. "I wish you'd drop what you're doing…and get on the case." Green light and I cross the intersection. I notice Kurama staring at his bottle cap, his baseball cap tilted a bit to the right. He speaks in English "There is apparently a museum of strawberries in Belgium. I am certain this will be of use to us in some strange and inconceivable way." I smirk a bit and say "Chill the hell out, will you? We're still alive and we got a set of wheels. Now I'm sure Koenma is going to be pissed about what happened and how we wasted three dudes back there, but I'd think he'd be understanding given how we got what I'm guessing is Kazemaru's goon squad after us, and we ain't reaching even C-class any time soon." "Go today, go today. Every way, right away! Oh, let's go!"

I turn right onto…think that says Penafrancia street. Still don't see any payphones…ah what the hell…they got some parade up ahead? Bunch of guys on motorcycles pull to the curb as a big procession crowds around…Perdo Gil street. Lots of streetlights and lampposts brightening up the night sky, bunch of locals holding up sandwich board signs, hear people shouting. Wait…I think I see a payphone at the corner, just before the parade. "So we could blow this existence, right out into space. And share a sweet isolation. Let's go there today. Go today, go today." I whistle and point, and Kurama tosses his empty Snapple bottle into the back. He says "Very well, I will make the call. Shall we try Kuwabara first? Or Keiko?" The way he says Keiko's name like he feels uncomfortable mentioning her. I park on the curb, by a green store on the right. See a sign on it that says 'Jewel Princess Furniture'. "Take your cue from me now, I'm saying baby, let's go. Will you listen to me? I'm saying baby, come on now!"

Exiting our stolen car, we lock it and head toward the payphone and the parade…I hear Kurama speak "That appears to be a protest of some sort." Yeah, it does. An older Filipino man in a white shirt, black cap, and blue jeans shouts into a megaphone "Mga karapatan unyon ay mga karapatang pantao! Union rights are human rights! We will not tolerate attacks on our right to collectively bargain!" Getting closer, I hear Kurama say "Seems we are at a labor strike. Just our fortune." Big crowd shouts "No more killings! No more violence! Arroyo must resign!" Getting closer, see that there is an electronic store on the right, alot of large TV sets on display. All of them showing some news broadcast, of the weather I guess. Can't hear the TVs over the shouting. Megaphone guy yells "Huwag kalimutan! Never forget! Maria Zaragoza, textile labor activist for our brothers and sisters in Cavite! Shot dead in Bacoor on May 19th!" I speak "Yeah, let's try Kuwabara first. I think I remember his cell number." The megaphone guy continues "Alex Timbol and Joshua Raya, from the Association of Sugar Millers, brutalized in an unjust police crackdown in Negros Occidental last month! Joshua still hasn't woken up from his coma!" We enter the payphone as the megaphone guy yells "Remember Escalante! Remember Bloody Thursday! Haven't we fought enough to make sure that this would never happen again?! Haven't we sacrificed enough?! That we shall never see another Marcos?!"

As Kurama fishes in his pockets for coins for the payphone, and I try to remember Kuwabara's cell number, a Filipino man in a gray and blue vertically striped dress shirt tucked into dark gray slacks exits the electronics shop, yelling "Manahimik ka please! They about to talk about the Binondo bombings!" The whole crowd stops and turns toward the shop, and now I can hear the TV's loud and clear.

A Filipina in a blue blazer and black undershirt, standing at a news desk, speaks in Filipino-accented English "We now have positive police identification of two suspects believed to be responsible for the catastrophic terrorist attack in Binondo earlier today." TV switches to a picture of…"Eugenio Beltran"…an east Asian guy sitting on a chair with a green tiled wall behind him…he's dressed in blue jeans, a black v-neck undershirt, and a whitish yellow collared, buttoned shirt with this black flame pattern around the shoulders, with bandages around his jaw. Huh. The TV anchor lady continues "…and Denise Valenzuela." Showing a red haired…guy…in gray jeans and a red and white checkered buttoned shirt, and a bandage on his nose. They look really familiar.

They look like us.

Kurama slowly exits the payphone, and I do the same, just to make sure my brain isn't hallucinating. The anchorwoman continues "These two individuals are suspected to be affiliated with the Moro Islamic Liberation Front. They are considered to be armed and extremely dangerous. Any information concerning them or their whereabouts should be directed to the nearest police station as soon as possible."

The fuck is going on in this crazy-ass archipelago? I-I…turn to face the large labor protest crowd, and the electronics shop owner, the latter slowly taking steps back and pointing at us, his lips shaking like he's trying to find words to say without shitting himself. I take a step back, going side by side with Kurama. The crowd just stares at us, like they forgot the reason they came here. Like they are telepathically deciding if they should run away from us, or mob us and hold us down, or lynch us right on the spot. I whisper in Japanese "C'mon Kurama, got any ideas here?" He…his eyes…they look wired, like he's scanning everything around him as fast as possible. He…he suddenly takes his pistol out and fires into the air. The electronics store guy falls on his ass and covers his face, yelling "WAIT DON'T DO IT!" and the whole mob screams and turns around and stampedes away from us. Kurama turns to me with this jittery look on his face and shouts in Japanese "RUN!"