Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction, I do not claim any rights to any of the characters or concepts created or owned by Viz Video or Rumiko Takahashi. This is just the work of one fan to the others. The only characters or concepts that I claim are the ones I created or introduced. That said, I bring you:
For Love and Money, the War of the Horse. A Y3 story.
Chapter 3. A shot in the dark.
As Ranma drove, his mind drifted about as he contemplated what lay ahead of him. As much as he wanted to, he wouldn't be heading directly to the valley and the village. He had to get an idea of what had happened, and just how bad it might be. There were several villages in the area that dealt with the Amazons, and might have an idea of what had happened, and who Ranma had to put in the ground.
He knew that he would have to try to keep a low profile at first, he couldn't risk word reaching the village ahead of him. There were a few people he could trust, and some people that he would need to avoid if possible. He especially had to get a feel for what the situation in the area was before he went to see the Guide.
It was possible that the Guide knew more than anyone, but at the same time he often moved behind the scenes to maintain a level of neutrality and to ensure his own necessity. Of all the enigmatic people and cultures of the valley, none were more unknowable than the Guide and those he worked for.
Still, that was neither here nor now. In a few hours he should reach the first of the outlying villages and hopefully be able to start getting the answers that he needed.
The person that he hoped to find was a Japanese expatriate named Fumi Junko. She used to work for one of the questionable rags that early with strange occurrences and unexplained happenings. Real bottom tier stuff. Somehow, she ended up in China looking into something, and stumbled on the real deal. The editor at the magazine didn't believe her, so she stayed to get her proof.
She was an odd duck, but she had unexpected bits and pieces of knowledge. They were far enough from the village he didn't expect her to know much, but sometimes what she didn't know spoke volumes.
It was also one of the places that Qiang Pu was likely to have passed through. And Fumi was one of the people on the rather short list that Ranma had given his daughter that he was fairly certain they could trust. The odd journalist took favors and debts very seriously, and Ranma had helped her out a few times over the years.
Still, he needed to be careful. He didn't know what had happened in the region, and the village she lived in was one of those on the edge of the strangeness that was this area. They were part of the boundary zone where you went from what people considered to be normal, and to the reality where people could change sex and even species depending on the temperature of water. Where people could literally have the blood of animals or mythical beasts flowing in their veins. Where people could live for hundreds, even thousands, of years.
It was the razor edge between sanity and insanity. And it showed in some of the people. Most were normal, even boring. Some, though, had escaped the strangeness that was the inner ranges, and had sought a place that was normal and boring enough for them, without fully running away into the mundane world.
Fumi was one of those who had slowly been going the opposite direction, moving steadily from normalcy to the heart of madness and insanity. For her sake, Ranma hoped that she would find somewhere on the outer edge to settle down and stay.
He intentionally avoided the area surrounding the other field, he didn't need to draw any attention to it, and it was honestly not his concern for now. If Rei found anything, and Douglas decided to take care of it, then perhaps he would be called in to help resolve the problem. Until then, unless he needed to, he would stay away.
He would be going into the village at night, and in his birth form. He was actually known better in the area in his cursed form, having spent a great deal of time helping deal with the Amazons and the others in the area, without ready access to hot water all the time it was inevitable. And, keeping an identity that was less well-known was never a bad thing .
He would hide the truck a few miles out, still in easy range for him to cover quickly, and less likely to alert anyone watching the village. As useful as it could be to be spotted, and watch what they did in response, it would place the residents under unnecessary danger.
Ranma found the gully he had looked for, and stashed the truck out of sight. When enough time had passed, he started his advance on the small village. A quick stop at one of the outlying houses in the country, and he had a change of clothes to make him blend in better as he moved ever closer to the small village.
He kept his head down and peered from under the brim of his hat as he moved in a casual manner towards the village. He noted the closed windows, and the tense air in the village. The usually softly noisy community was silent, or near so. He noted the relatively fresh truck tracks that passed down the center of the one small road that passed through the small village, and Ranma knelt down to adjust his shoes as he looked over the tracks. The tracks were from a large truck, probably one of the many old Russian or Chinese military trucks that the bandits and minor warlords were so fond of. The interesting fact, though, was the lack of oil or other fluids, and the fact that the treads were deep and clear.
Whoever had passed through wanted to look like they were local, but the vehicles were in too good of shape. The tracks were also straight and consistent, none of the usual sporting up and slowing down, the swerving to appear threatening. It was hard to break the training of professionals. You could dress them up right, maybe even get them to sound right, but habits were hard to overcome.
Especially habits that kept you alive in war zones where mines and IEDs were common. That pointed to middle eastern service. So, they were probably Chinese or Russian military turned mercenary. American and Middle Easterners tended to stick out too much this far into the hinterlands of China.
That gave him some hints on what and who he could be dealing with. They had money and contacts, and the knowledge of the area to pull this off. They either were from the area, or had allies in the area. And they had a problem with the Amazons. Mind you, that didn't cut down the list any, not really. The tribe had never exactly been good at playing nice with their neighbors, and it didn't help that the other major powers in the area were just as questionable as the Joketsuzoku were. Honestly, the entire area was a barrel of crazy. But he had ties with the Village, and they had proven themselves good allies to him and his over the years.
Sometimes, he had to wonder how much of this was all as Old Man Tanaka had planned.
Ranma shook his head as he made his way past Fumi's home. He didn't look at it, but noted what he could in passing. It looked almost abandoned, so that meant that Fumi had to be around. The former journalist had to be one of the worst homeowners Ranma had ever known. Honestly, if anyone could ever get her head in the here and now, they might have to find her some man or woman to live with. The sad thing was, Ranma didn't even know what her preference would be.
But, her presence was a good thing. It would be good to have a reliable if erratic source of information to go from, and he had to hope that Fumi would know everything that she could have gleaned about their new 'guests'.
Ranma moved around in the same manner as the villagers he had seen as he moved about, until he had a chance to slip out of sight and vanish until nightfall. It was a mostly agrarian community, so most of the people would be in their homes and heading to their beds before it became too late. He would make his move once people had started to truly transition, and hope that Fumi didn't freak out too much.
As the hours passed, Ranma kept a silent watch from his hiding place and watched how the people moved as the hours passed. They seemed just as furtive and on edge, so it was possible that their new guests had passed through late at night before, another factor that Ranma had to note and wonder about the significance of that bit of data. There was only so much he could really try and sort through and figure out without atual first hand accounts, but going in to talk to Fumi with as much of a grasp of the situation as possible would only make it easier to ask her what he truly needed to know.
Once the proper time had arrived, he made his silent way to the back of Fumi's house, pulled the key from where it had been hidden, and quietly made his way inside. He resisted the urge to look around before he slipped in. He moved through the dark with the slow, sure steps of someone well acquainted with moving through unfamiliar terrain at night.
He smiled as he came across the first of Fumi's little surprises. A rubber mat hidden in the clutter with an assortment of nails and glass affixed to it. He carefully stepped past it, while being mindful of the real trap hidden just past it. The breakaway boards and the barbed spikes underneath were, In his opinion, overkill and not particularly effective. Especially inside a house. The chance of leaving an injured intruder alive was almost sure to ensure retribution. Plus, if she did have to flee, she would have to deal with her own traps on the fly.
Ranma stood silently over the strange little journalist's bed and placed his hand over the tiny woman's mouth as he took the gun from under her pillow as she started to struggle.
"Fumi-chan, it's me. Ranma. I'm going to take my hand off your mouth now, please don't scream." Ranma said quietly and waited for her to nod before he removed his hand.
Fumi glared at him a moment before he found himself on the receiving end of a hug from the four-foot two woman. She broke off and grabbed her glasses before she settled back on her bed and looked Ranma over. "So, what do I owe the pleasure of a visit from the elusive Ranma Tendo."
Ranma gave her a look. "Fishing for information still, Fumi? I'm here because something is wrong in the area, and it involves the Joketsuzoku. It involves my daughter."
Fumi bit her lip and nodded. "So… she made it to Japan, then…"
Ranma narrowed his eyes and nodded. "You knew, then?"
Fumi sighed and pulled off her glasses to clean them, then replaced them before she answered Ranma. "I did."
Ranma clenched his hand for a moment, then took a breath. "Why didn't you help her?"
Fumi looked down as she answered. "I wanted to, but with the toughs in the town… I couldn't."
Ranma took a breath, then let it out. "Okay, who are they, and what are they really here for?"
Fumi nodded and smiled. "Haven't even met them, and you're onto them already. There's a reason I like you, Ranma." The tiny woman said as she fished a cigarette and lighter out, and started to smoke "they showed up one day out of the blue with a loud-mouthed weasel leading them. He was all noise and blister, but the men that he supposedly led are professionals. The big man and the woman who were standing behind him are the real problems, I bet." Fumi said then leaned over and started to fish around in a pile of photos and papers without a care for what Ranma may or may not see in her current state.
After a moment, she sat back up and slipped the cigarette from between her lips as she showed Ranma a set of photographs.
The purported leader Ranma recognized. Wen Li Chu was a minor player up in the hinterlands along the border. He was all mouth and no muscle, and there was no reason he would ever be in this area.
The next pictures that she showed him caught his attention. The man looked Chinese for sure, but he had an unusually broad forehead and distinctly squarish chin. His build was heavy and blocky, and he seemed to slump just a bit that caused the base of his neck to bulge out a bit.
The woman was striking in her beauty. Defined features, incredible muscle tone and her posture clearly said she considered herself above those around her. He looked at Fumi and asked the first question that popped into his head.
"Fumi, you didn't do anything with the color filters or saturation for this picture, right?" Ranma asked with a heavy weight in the pit of his stomach.
"No, I didn't. Why? Nowadays it's not strange for women to dye their hair a strange color, a bit odd for mercenaries or bandits, though." Fumi commented.
"You've never really dealt much with the Joketsuzoku, have you?" Ranma asked.
"I tend to avoid psychopaths when I can. No offense, of course." Fumi said as she took a long drag on her cigarette.
"None taken. And I'm not a psychopath, neither are most of the Amazons. This one though… Avoid her, Fumi." Ranma said as he placed the photograph down again.
"This one? What? Are you saying she's one of the Amazon's? Did they decide to take over or something?" Fumi asked as she stared at him.
"She might be from there, but I can guarantee she isn't one of them." Ranma said with certainty.
"Okay, humor me. Why do you think she is both an Amazon, and not one, from just the picture?" Fumi said as she shifted on the bed and poured herself a drink.
"Her hair isn't dyed. You can tell it's natural if you know what to look for. And the Joketsuzoku have a distinct look to them. Also,.there is that superior attitude. She grew up hearing how women are superior to men. Now, how do I know she isn't an Amazon? She carries guns, and she is willing to work with men. That right there tells me a great deal about her.". Ranma said as he crossed his arms.
"Honestly, she reminds me somewhat of an exile I had a run-in with a couple of years ago." Ranma said thoughtfully.
"An exile? I only know so much about them, I haven't exactly been that far in country…" Fumi said as she sat back on her bed, crossed her legs at the ankles, and smoked some more.
"Don't. The level of crazy and weird you can handle is about here, or at least it was. When do you think your little guest parade will be by again?" Ranma asked as he pushed away from the wall.
"Tomorrow, the day after for sure. They are pretty regular, for a bunch of disorganized bandits." Fumi said with a grin.
"I'd like to stay and observe them, but I need to see what happened in the village as soon as possible. They are probably doing this little roadshow in all the villages in the area, right?" Ranma said as he prepared to leave.
"They are… You know, you don't HAVE to go…" Fumi said as she rolled onto her stomach and regarded him coyly.
"You know that I have to go, and all the reasons I can't stay, Fumi-chan. Be good, and I will check in on you on my way back." Ranma said as he started to walk out.
"Just make sure they don't kill you, Ranma. I don't want to have to answer to that wife of yours." Fumi said, then sighed when she was sure that he was gone and laid back on her back after she had snuffed out her cigarette.
"I hope he can fix what's going on around here…" She said before she rolled over and tried to get back to sleep.