Hope you're all ready for a loaded chapter cause this is a lengthy one.

Sorry, I wanted to have it out a couple weeks ago but there was a death in my family.

If eons trapped in this cursed world had taught Lovecraft anything, it was the predictability of lower species than himself. Be It in the darkest depths of the sea or the highest mountain, it had been the same since the first rays of sunlight pierced through the dusty clouds that birthed the sky and shed light on the nameless creatures and organisms that dwelled in the darkness.

He had been one such creature, the only one consciously aware at the time. From that moment on, he'd bore witness to the birth and extinction of many lifeforms but none repulsed the ancient one more than the current bacterias known as humans.

Greedy, arrogant, filthy, little whelpse derived from equally disgusting primates who's only lucid thought encourages them to throw their own excrement at each other. Living on placid Islands of ignorance, yet somehow currently at the top of the food chain. If he had the ability to laugh, he would. At least the dinosaurs knew they were mindless, ravenous beasts and never tried to be more than what nature made them.

Humans think themselves light-years above their station. In truth he normally wouldn't care so much, he'd just sit in the depths of darkness and wait for them to die out like all the other species before. Were they not so damn noisy that was, or constantly disturbing his bed with their pollution and carelessness.

Yes, since the clouds parted on the endless night this world hadn't allowed Lovecraft a moment of blissful peace. How he despised this world and its light; longing for more then millennia to return back to glorious darkness. Back to a world with no light, no noise, no life. A world where he could sleep forever.

But to achieve his greatest wish, he needed the aid of his closest ally. The only being he'd ever encountered who shared his hatred of this accursed world and all who dwelled within it. Ironically a human who was anything but predictable. A human who had once caused Lovecraft… The Ancient One himself, to tremble with fear for but a moment.

No. Not a human… a demon.

For the time being, he had no choice but to pray on the gullible predictability of these noisy primates and aid his master anyway he could.

"Well, it took combing near all of Tokyo, but I managed to find the little crude you charged me with procuring."

Even if some of the primates were more unbearable than others.

"I'll have you know. I'm the future King of Yokohama, not an errand boy!" Ace said haughty. "And I'm very busy at the moment, what with preparing my casino for the ball, keeping The Agency off my tail, and being utterly disquieted knowing my future Queen is off traipsing about that garbage dump with an oaf and criminal."

Truthfully, Lovecraft didn't pay Ace's ramblings much mind, but they were so frequent and irritating like nails on a chalkboard, all he wanted to do was to cave his skull in, but refrained. Oh Nikolai, how I wish you were here to make this pest vanish from my premise. He'd spend eternity cursing the emperor's prized gems for slaughtering his friend as they did.

"You're not a King yet. Nor will you be if you don't do as you're told." There was no emotion whatsoever in his voice, but his words were firm.

The twitch in Ace's eye told Lovecraft he was imagining setting him on fire, like everything else, he didn't care. And Ace wasn't about to challenge him. "Bring him to me."

Ace took a deep breath and swiped his hair back before clapping his hands for two of his employees to bring in a trembling, bound figure with a beige hood over their head. Both of them large, bruly men who would have no trouble crushing Ace to death, were it not for the collars around their necks.

Behind them, Karma scurried with a pet carrier.

Without a word, they set the hostage and cage at Lovecraft's feet and retreated back to their waiting spots.

Ace stomped forward, cutting the binds and ripping off the hood.

The young man with pale skin and shaggy black hair covering his eyes, gasped! Looking in all directions, terrified. He squeaked upon looking up at Lovecraft. Oddly, The Ancient One got that reaction a lot, but couldn't discern why.

"W-w-wh-oo a-are you?" The man stammered, then a familiar chirping caught his attention and he immediately opened the animal carrier. "Karl! Are you okay, buddy?"

If a raccoon racing out of the carrier and running up the eccentric man's arm to perch itself on his shoulder baffled Lovecraft, he didn't show it. Granted he never showed any emotion except melancholy. Ace on the other hand, made no attempts to hide his disgust as the captive showered the creature with affection.

"Eww! Those things have rabies, you know?"

The man suddenly remembered he wasn't alone and got up on quaking legs. "W-who are you people,... why a-am I here?"

"Your name is Poe, correct?" Lovecraft asked.

The hostage backed up half a step. Not used to anyone knowing who he was.

"Y-yes sir. Edgar, A, Poe." His companion squeaked for attention. "And this is Karl."

"You hail from The Land of the Free, what brought you to this content?"

Despite his confusion and fear, Edgar thought best to cooperate. "I w-wanted to find s-somone. The only man fit to be my arch-rival, Ranpo Edagawa. I desired to test my genius against his to see who possessed the superior mind." His hands balled into tight fists at his sides, "But alas, when I challenged him… not only did he beat me, he had the audacity to treat our match like an idle kids show. Not even flinching for any of my challenges. I've spent years devising those tests, poured everything I had into them, and he unraveled all for my hard work and flushed it down the toilet as easily as cheap paper." The more Edgar recounted his encounter, the more he seethed. He started grinding his teeth. "I swear, I won't stop. I'll keep going until I'm able to inflict the same humiliation Ranpo inflicted upon me, a hundred times over. I'll show him that I, Edgar Allan Poe, am the greatest detective of all time!"

"Your ability allows you to trap anyone into books of your own creation, correct?" Lovecraft asked, completely ignoring the eccentric man's ramblings.

"Y--y-yes sir. So long as they are reading it, nobody may escape my writings until they've solved the mysteries."

Lovecraft twitched, not from irritation, he still wasn't adjusted to his human form yet. It made Edgar even more uneasy. "Your power may be of use to my master, join us and he'll ensure you get your revenge."

"Y-your master?"

"Yes, he'll be arriving soon enough. I'll be on my way to retrieve him shortly."

"B-but sir, Ranpo Edagawa is the ward of a King." Edgar pointed out. "Nobody can touch him."

"That doesn't matter." Lovecraft half said, half grumbled. "Yokohama's King's won't be an issue much longer. With them out of the way, my master will make a world where all dreams come true. A world where Ranpo Edagawa quails in fear of your superior intellect and serves as a jester for your own amusement. Join The Rats and everything you desire shall be yours."

Edgar wasn't sure what to say. He liked what the tall man was pitching but it sounded too good to be true. Not to mention sinister. While he longed for retribution, he wasn't particularly fond of the thought of others getting hurt. But every instinct in his body screamed that refusing Lovecraft's offer would be fatal.

"I-if I agree, your master will release me once I have what I want, right?"

How gullible, Lovecraft thought. "Of course."

"V-very well. I'm in."

"A wise choice. Now I must be off, my associate has already gone ahead to see to our preparations. In the meantime, you will remain here and continue writing your novels until you are called upon. Ace will see to it that you're provided for."

Edgar gaped, looking around the large, rusty warehouse as if it would collapse at any moment. How he was expected to write in such a poor atmosphere was derogatory. Still he thought better than to complain. Holding Karl helped his nerves, much to the furry creature's annoyance.

Behind him, Ace stood cross-armed, tapping his shoe. "Wonderful…" He groaned, "Now I can add babysitting to my- already- hectic schedule." He swiped his hair back again and gave his men a command that they quickly hurried to obey then turned back to Lovecraft. "And just what is my part in all of this supposed to be?"

"You are to continue gathering loyal rats to serve the master without drawing much attention to yourself. And see to it that preparations for the ball remain undeterred. Make sure every soul on the guest list is in attendance." The Ancient One cocked his head, pensive. "My associate already lit the fire, but I think I'll fan the flames a little bit. After all, the more we shake the pillars, the more foundation crumbles."

"Shake the pillars?"

"What foundation?"

Ignoring Ace and Edgar's ignorant probing, Lovecraft extended his left arm and utterly shocked the two men when six enormous tentacles burst out like confetti in party favors. Wriggling and writhing, and dripping black ink to the ground until six perfect circular puddles lay at his feet.

His tentacles receded back to a human arm and he peered over the rippling puddles, curious.

The two, trembling men– and one raccoon– off to the watched the spectacle with absolute terror. It was Edgar who asked, "W-w-w-what i-is t-t-that?" Was he referring to the puddles or the thing that made them?

Lovecraft didn't answer, instead his gaze remained on the ink. "You know what to do, now go and do not fail me!" He said with a wave of his hand.

To the spectators' amazement, the puddles began to move. Rolling along like they were alive, towards the back exit leading out to the ocean, not stopping till they fell over into the water. Lovecraft watched on impassively. Though his associates plan had already proven fruitful, it never hurt to have a contingency.

Very soon master, this world shall return to the dark age, and these ignorant fools will never see it coming. It's just as I always told you… The world is indeed comic, but the joke is on mankind.

It was said long ago when the Silver Wolf began the hunt, his prey was already dead. A statement Yokohama's King of Twilight, Yukichi Fukuzawa, and all who knew him wouldn't disagree with. He was a reserved man who never showed his emotions; kept them hidden under a stoic facade and poised exterior. The ideal character trait that had made him his country's most lethal contract killer once upon a time.

But beneath the stolid shell was a kind, just man with high morals, and impeccable honor. No, not one to wear his emotions on his sleeve but certainly not heartless… That heart was just broken. Legends say wolves mate for life, a romantic notion, but what they don't mention is the endless sorrow the wolf must endure when his mate is taken from him too soon, in the cruelest of ways.

Butchered by a jealous psychopath, he cursed himself everyday for not killing in their early days at the dojo. Fukuzawa may have gotten his revenge, but that didn't change the fact his beloved still lay in eternal rest below the stone marker he currently knelt before.

His prayer ended with the comforting smell of incense wafting in the air, then he delicately traced the kanji's written along the stone, imagining they were her soft cheek. He could still see her dazzling smile. Here, alone, on the very day she was taken from him, he could see her again. If only for a moment.

"Hello again, my love." Fukuzawa murmured. "How I've missed you."

Like a breath in the wind, her image drifted away. Leaving Fukuzawa to drop all barriers of the hardened warrior and revered King, to grind his teeth; dissolving into uncontrollable tears. Remembering all of the precious moments they'd shared… And reliving that horrible day so long ago.

The sun had set hours ago but he hadn't noticed. The moonlight streaming through the windows hadn't registered to his brain.

He couldn't feel the cold, lifeless body in his arms anymore; had since forgotten about the pools of blood staining his yukata.

He was numb.

If he didn't move there was still hope this was just a horrible nightmare. That he would awake any second and see her smiling at him. But every second that past, every painful beat of his heart, every bated breath he continued to endure was shattering that hope.

When the hope finally faded, so did his reason to keep living. That bastard had won. After years of a relentless rivalry, Fukuchi got what he wanted, he broke Yukichi's spirit by ripping out his soul. Fukuzawa was dead now, his body just didn't know it yet. An easy fix.

With trembling hands, he laid his wife's mutilated, bloodied corpse on their living room floor and pressed one last kiss to her temple. Hot tears traveled from his eyes, down his nose, and onto her pale cheek.

He reached for his katana.

He may have failed her in life but he'd make up for it by joining her in death. Not that he expected to go where she undoubtedly was. Still, that hell was preferable to this one.

Slowly, he unsheathed it.

"Forgive me, my love."

Positioned the end to his heart, about to drive it in…

"That won't end your pain, Fukuzawa. Only suspend it."

Fast as lightning, he spun on his haunches and lounged for the owner of the familiar voice. Launching one rage fueled attack after another at the last person he ever wanted to see.

Mori deflected every strike of the katana, but was straining more than usual. He wasn't sure how long his scalpels could hold with Fukuzawa in this state. The household items and furniture were the unfortunate victims of their scuffle.

Fukuzawa backed Mori into a corner, leaving him no choice but to use his agility and use the wall for momentum to leap over his Soukoku partner and kick the katana from his hand when he spun to slash again. The lack of weapons wasn't a problem for Fukuzawa, he screamed and charged at Mori, tackling him to the ground.

The two men rolled around the floor in a grueling death lock. Mori tried to get the upper hand but Fukuzawa was too strong, all he could do was claw at the hands wrapped around his neck. Were it not for the picture frame on the table nearby getting knocked off, he probably would've died. Mori saw it laying just a few inches away and struggled to reach it, his vision started to blur but once his fingertips made contact, he grabbed the frame and- with a stifled cry- bashed Fukuzawa upside the head with it. Using the samurai's delirium as the perfect opportunity to punch him off, then gain his footing and proceed to punch him again, then again.

One sacred rule all doctors must live by is never risk damaging their hands, primarily surgeons. At that moment, Mori couldn't care less about such notions. As long as he beat the wolf back into its cage for Fukuzawa to hear what he'd come to say. Sadly, as the 'shield' that defended Yokohama, only he had the power to temper the 'sword.'

"Now… listen to me, mutt!" Mori seethed, yanking Fukuzawa by his yukata. "If you want to kill yourself, be my guest. You'd be doing me a favor…" He paused to cough. "However,... You should know I received a draft notice this morning… No doubt you did as well. We're officially at war, Yukichi!" Fukuzawa groaned, trying to fight out of Mori's grip, but the doctor wouldn't let him. "That's not all… It seems your sociopathic rival has turned traitor and joined the enemy. Meaning murdering your wife wasn't his way of breaking you, it was his calling card for you!... He sent me one as well." Reaching into his black trench coat pocket, Mori held up a postcard picture of Yokohama. It would've been a lovely photo of the city at sunset were it not singed around the edges and stained with blood. After seeing the scene at Fukuzawa's home, there was no question as to where the blood came from.

On the back was a short message… -The hunt is on.-

You didn't have to have Mori's intellect to decipher the meaning behind the desecrated image of their home.

Once Fukuzawa understood too, he continued, "You know what Fukuchi is like better than anyone, he'll set the world on fire just to watch it burn!... I don't give a damn about the rest of the world, mutt, but I'll not let that monster bring a war to my city!" He tightened his grip. "Right now you have two paths, join your beloved in her grave and let him win… or unleash the wolf and join me on a hunt."

Mori released Fukuzawa, letting the broken man fall to his knees; straightening up his coat and cracking his neck before returning to his sophisticated exterior. "I'll leave you to decide." He turned on his heels, leaving his fellow 'Diamond' staring down at the broken, bloody framed photo of he and his wife together on their wedding day. Shutting the front door just as the great Silver Wolf began to howl in agony and sorrow.

In the end, Fukuzawa had chosen the path of revenge. Enlisting with Mori to defend their country and fulfilling their civic duty. At least that's how it appeared to the rest of the world. The reality was the war was both the hunting ground and game board, all initiated by the very man he was hunting.

The King hated reflecting on that time.

It didn't matter anymore, the war was over and Fukuchi Ochi was dead with it. Thanks to the combined efforts and might of himself and Mori, at the near coast of both their lives.

He allowed one last tear before closing the lid on his overwhelming grief until his next visit. Returned was the stoic, refined King of Twilight, who commanded respect and honor. This was a personal day so he had no intention of appearing at The Agency, instead he planned on strolling through the city and visiting some tea houses. Certainly an improvement from the times he'd spend this entire day sitting here alone letting his sorrow consume him, be it rain or shine.

Ranpo once told Akiko it meant that he'd found new purposes in life to live for… or more accurately, new people.

"Until next time, my love."

He was about to leave when a change in the wind caused his hackles to rise. He closed his eyes and sighed. Of all days… Of all places…

A moment later the King spun around, using his sword's sheath to block the coming attack from another sword, wielded by a literal shaded figure.

The assailant was humanoid but lacked any characteristics, it's body rippled and waved like it was made of water. It took Fukuzawa to recognize the substance as ink. And it's weapon was no normal sword, rather it was made of the substance as the one holding it. Attached at the hand like it was an extension of the inky being.

"And just what the devil are you?" He growled, managing to shove the creature back. It said nothing and advanced again, Fukuzawa removed his sword fast as lightning and began countering a furious ensemble of attacks.

Whatever this thing was, it was skilled, even to a veteran warrior such as he. It was only when he parried an intense strike did he realize, the creature was copying his moves with absolute accuracy.

The King didn't have time to be surprised because another assailant just like the first tried to attack his blind spot. It was when he turned to deflect it did he see the four others leap from behind the surrounding gravestones to ambush him.

Six inhuman aggressors total, all welding the same weapon.

He'd had worse odds.

And the added insult of being ambushed at his wife's graveside was all the fuel the Silver Wolf needed to come out full force.

The grip on his katana was almost painful. "Come!" He bellowed, fire blazing in his eyes.

The creatures didn't hesitate. Attacking as one from every angle. Fukuzawa countered them all as easy as swatting a fly. He moved with the fluidity of a seasoned warrior, and fought with the might of a savage animal. Despite his attackers able to adapt themselves to equal his techniques, they lacked a soul or mind to withstand the force he was putting into his attacks.

They lacked means to strategize.

He blocked another strike to his blind spot and purposely hesitated long enough to bait another into attacking. He sidestepped last second and allowed the current aggressor to impale the former through the heart, then spun to impale that one in the back, with his own sword.

To his amazement, they didn't cry out in pain, or even stagger. They simply dissolved into black puddles on the ground before soaking into the ground, leaving no trace of existence.

Three more lunged in a pincer move. Fukuzawa let out a mighty cry and met them head on, katana tearing through their liquid forms and sending them to join their vaporized colleagues.

By the time he was done, his clothes were stained with ink splatters but nothing else remained of the near alien monsters.

Then he remembered too late that he'd only counted five when there had been six.

He didn't register the blade cutting through his side until the final assailant had rushed past him- once again using his blind spot- and he felt the wetness of his kimono. Damn, those three were only a diversion. He mentally scolded himself for not realizing sooner.

His hand immediately went to his wound. He'd had far worse before but there were more factors to consider other than just a cut. Nevertheless he readied himself for the next attack, even injured he could handle just one.

Only it didn't attack.

Instead the creature manifested what looked like a small bottle and… collected the blood on it's blade?

Once corked, the inky creature leaped from gravestones, to tree limbs, and over the graveyard wall out of sight.

Fukuzawa rushed to pursue but winced from the pain in his side. "What in the world was that?" He thought aloud. He glanced around for any other attackers, nothing, and returned his sword to its proper place.

He held his wound but it wasn't life threatening, he may need stitches but didn't care at the moment. His mind was too busy trying to process what had just happened. He had to get to The Agency and tell Mori what happened.

Before he left, he spared his wife another solem glance, "Not today I'm afraid, my love." And turned in the direction of the five black towers.

Words could not express the boiling anger the King was feeling at the moment, nor the complete bewilderment of the whole encounter.

One thing was certain though, the attack did leave the representative of the Twilight pillar utterly shaken.

To be a leader meant being both your organization's servant and King. Not the easiest job, especially when needing to balance the two.

Yokohama's King of the Night, was a dutiful servant to both his city and organization, his black heart overflowed with love for both. If his devotion was due to the mark on his arm, he didn't care. Only the love he held for his Darling Elise, and pride for his children could threaten to stand on par with what he felt for his beautiful city.

Heavy is the head that wears the crown. Mori adored every ounce. His status as King, fed his unending ambition, and his obsession with game theory combined with his genius intellect granted him absolute control over all he ruled. In order to win the game, one must root out all of their opponents weaknesses and use it to crippled them, then use their strengths to your advantage and crush them into nothing.

How many unfortunate souls had Mori stomped under his boot? The tally was too high to count and grew everyday. To rule the night, it's King had to be what the night feared.

Yet, the recent disturbances were beginning to weigh on him heavily. So much so that he couldn't enjoy watching Elise play with the new dollhouse he'd had shipped in from Switzerland, a shame since she was so happy.

Instead he did what he always did when needing to think, sat on his throne facing the massive windows, admiring the spectacular view of Yokohama. A view fit for a King ironically.

The files of the recently murdered recruits rested on his lap, despite the investigation falling to The Ministry, it was still Agency members murdered. Meaning the culprit made things personal. Making an enemy of The Agency was a grave mistake, and no way would justice for the murders be left to Director Taneda's little honor scouts.

What's more, he'd been receiving other peculiar reports through his personal grapevine network in the underground about frequent disappearances of low-class criminals. Those insignificant enough not to warrant concern. Nobody else may see relevance, but Mori liked to keep a firm grip on every inhabitant of his kingdom. Even a smallest ant is useful to the colony after all.

He sighed, closing the files and tossing them on the small side table, reaching for his cup of tea before buzzing Hirotsu in. The older man looked tired, no doubt still distressed over his bright, young subordinates. Despite his glum demeanor, he was still a loyal servant to his King.

"Hirotsu, have Miss Haruno cancel my lunch with the mayor. I have more pressing matters to see too that don't include listening to that buffoon prattle on about trivial issues he doesn't care about, just so he can highlight another one of his silicone enhanced daughters for me to introduce Dazai too."

Hirotsu chuckled half-heartedly. "I take it, he's still unaware that Prince Dazai has already conquered all three of his daughters,… At the same time,"

Mori's lips formed a half-smirk. "As I said, he's a buffoon. And my son is nothing if not thorough. The Prime Minister's youngest has recently arrived back from studying abroad, no doubt he's already plotting ways for her to sink her claws into Dazai at the ball."

"They don't know the Crowned Prince at all."

"No, they certainly do not." Mori agreed, "Though it is quite amusing."

Hirotsu bowed his head, "I'll see that it's done, sir." A moment later, his phone buzzed; answered right away then informed Mori, "Sir, Franz the jewel dealer Is here to see you."

"Very good, send him in." Mori said, setting his teacup down as Hirotsu exited a moment, then returned with a short, portly man in a tailored pinstripe suit, carrying a large briefcase.

The pudgy man looked pale and had a noticeable quiver of his lips when his sights fell on the King sitting so content on his throne. As if Yokohama's King of the Night were the lion and he the mouse. Hirotsu practically had to drag the man closer until he gained control of his quaking legs and sprinted the rest of the way. Dropping to his knees before Mori and taking his gloved hand to kiss.

"Your majesty. I-it is an honor."

Mori snatched his hand away, unimpressed. "I understand you claim to be the best jeweler on the black market, quite the proclamation… If such a statement is true then I trust you were able to find the piece I employed you to procure?"

Franz fumbled for his briefcase, blubbering his considerable jowls, then presented the King with a large velvet box.

Mori smirked when he lifted the lid and ran his fingers over the contents. "Exquisite…" He murmured. "And it's genuine?"

"O--of course your majesty. I w-w-would never t-ry to deceive y-your keen eye."

Mori seemed pleased by the jewelers' fear. His smirked turned to an amused smile. "I should hope not." He set the box on his side table and took out his phone, a moment later, Franz jumped from the digging of his own device. "I've just transferred the funds to your offshore account in the Bahamas…" He took a sip of his tea. "With interest for your troubles, of course."

Franz opened his phone and his eyes nearly jumped from their sockets when he saw the number on the screen. He looked back at Mori-- who appeared to have lost interest in him-- with disbelief, then back to his phone. "T-thank you, your majesty! Thank you!" He scrambled to his feet with his briefcase when Mori waved him away, continuing to bow low as Hirotsu escorted him out. They were almost at the door when Mori called…

"Oh and Franz… do keep my number. Your services may be required again in the future."

Franz beamed. "Of course your majesty, whatever you need, any time."

Satisfied, Mori went back to admiring his latest purchase before being interrupted by an alarmed gasp from Hirotsu, followed by Fukuzawa storming in, looking worse for wear. Holding his sheathed katana in one hand and his bloodied side with the other. "Fukuzawa," The King greeted from his seat, unflinching, but still looking his colleague over. "I didn't expect to see you today. Seems you've had an eventful morning."

"I was just ambushed." Fukuzawa stated.

"Obviously."

"At the graveyard..."

It took a moment for Mori to absorb his partner's statement, purple eyes momentarily widened with understanding. "Oh dear…" He folded his hinds together, "Well I certainly hope you're not accusing me? While I have been known to send the occasional assassin after you from time to time, I do hold you in high enough regard to respect your need for solitude today of all days, Yukichi."

"Don't take me for a fool!" Fukuzawa roared. "Of course I know they weren't yours! They weren't even human."

Mori arched an eyebrow. "Oh?"

Fukuzawa began to pace, anger seething off of him in waves while Mori used the time to send for a medic, it wouldn't be long before fatigue from blood loss set in. While fully capable of treating his fellow King himself, Mori had made a vow long ago, never to personally save Fukuzawa's life again. With Akiko away, an on staff medic was their best option.

The fatigue must've started to affect him because Fukuzawa paused, taking a couple deep breaths before he took his seat on his own throne beside Mori's, grimacing when his wound grazed the armrest. Mori said nothing, simply waited for his colleague's explanation.

"They appeared human in shape, but bore no faces." Fukuzawa finally said. "They were… made of ink, I think. When my sword cut through them, they devolved into puddles and were absorbed into the ground."

"Interesting." Mori said.

"You don't seem unnerved by the description."

"We once faced down an army of vampires, mutt." Mori mused. "Little surprises me anymore. We should have your clothes sent for forensics analysis after you're treated."

Fukuzawa agreed. "They knew my blindspots to attack, and were able to modify they're movements to match my own."

"That might be concerning, had they been facing any other opponent but you."

"One of them got away. The one who injured it… it collected my blood from it's blade and retreated. I think that's what it was after all along, for what purpose I can not say."

Mori furrowed his brow, analyzing every detail so far. A rare emotion for the King of the Night was beginning to surface. Worry. "Do you suppose these creatures are what killed those girls?"

Fukuzawa noticed the files on the table, reading the cover labels with the deceased names on them. He'd suspected the same on his way here. It would certainly be plausible, but his gut feeling said otherwise. "I'm not sure."

"How utterly forlorn this whole ordeal is becoming." Mori sighed. "The only auspicious corollary is we are now the primary host of this year's charity ball."

Fukuzawa wouldn't even waste an eye roll for that. Instead he turned his gaze out the window. Several heartbeats later, he murmured, "They attacked my wife's grave, Ogai."

Mori closed his eyes, solemn. "I know. First the old boss rises from the dead, then the murders of our promising recruits, now assaulting you at your place of sanctuary. Seems someone is trying desperately to rattle the foundation of The Agency. They mean to break us by striking at our most vulnerable points. Unfortunately there isn't much we can do until the children return from Suribatchi City. They're investigation is critical in unlocking the mystery."

He really hated it when his partner was right. Still, he knew Mori too well to let that hinder him. "So what are we doing in the meantime?"

The former surgeon smirked, as if expecting the question. "I've sent Ronpo with Miss Tanizaki, down to the city morgue to examine what remains of the bodies. He'll use his talents to discern where they were murdered and we'll go from there. Also, with Dazai away, I've assumed interim command over the army. I'll be deploying night patrols over the city that consists only of seasoned capable agents, as well as enhancing security at the borders and docks. No one will be leaving or entering Yokohama without my knowledge or permission."

"Good." Fukuzawa nodded, "For now, let's try to keep the media's attention on the ball. That should be easy given the change in location."

"I'm way ahead of you." Mori smiled, "I've canceled lunch with the mayor so I can host an exclusive behind the scenes tour of the casino to the press this afternoon. I've even sent the Editor-in-chief a little coercion to reassure he won't print a word about Agency related incidents until after the case is solved."

"He was out late in the arms of some cocktail waitress from one of your clubs, I take?"

"Waiter, actually." Mori clarified.

Fukuzawa pursed his lips. "Explains much… I do recall noticing his son held a striking resemblance to the yoga instructor downtown.

"Quite. Seems his wife isn't as ignorant as his father. That should buy us a little more time until the children get back."

The King nodded, disesteem contorting his face more than pain. Mori had done his part, now it was Fukuzawa's turn. Unfortunately it meant swallowing his ethics and lowering his morals down to Mori's level. It sickened him, but his voice of reason was drowned out by the snarling wolf hungry for vengeance.

After he'd been treated by the medic, bloodwork taken, and ruined clothes sent for analysis, the King returned to his throne, welcoming Sensei Mii curling up on his lap for his twelfth nap that day. He summoned Kunikida.

His idealistic heir arrived, notebook in hand. The epitome of immaculate professionalism from his pressed suit, to his spotless loafers. He gave Mori a cortal nod, his lack of formality unsurprising since Kunikida absolutely detested the King of the Night with every fiber of his being, but graciously bowed to Fukuzawa. The man he so respected and loved like a father.

"You wished to see me sir?"

Fukuzawa nodded, deciding to get straight to the point. "Kunikida, that boy you've taken under your wing, the son of the late detective who worked the Azure King case, he has a profound talent for cyber hacking, he used to hack global servers to gather information, correct?"

Kunikida stiffened. "Y-yes sir. Rokuzo was technically a cyber criminal before his father's untimely death. However, I've taken it upon myself to put the boy on the straight and narrow so that he may use his computer skills for beneficial purposes…" He cut a dark glance at Mori, "Not criminal."

Fukuzawa frowned. "Take him to Katai. I don't care what you have to do to make him work, just do it. His ability and the boy's hacking skills should be enough…"

Kunikida piqued, confused. Even Mori seemed unsure of where his partner was going with this request.

"Enough for what, sir?" Kunikida asked.

Fukuzawa took a deep breath before responding. "I want them to hack every surveillance camera within the city and monitor civil activity twenty-four hours a day until the source of these disturbances has been rooted out." Kunikida's eyes widened, but the King wasn't done. "Also, they are to look into the Metropolitan Police database and keep up with any and all information regarding our organization and the current investigation. If they know or suspect anything we don't already, I want to hear about it."

Kunikida struggled to keep himself composed, pushing up his glasses. "With all due respect sir, what you're requesting is a federal crime. We'd be violating civic bylaws the populist trust us to uphold. It's out of the question. I'd expect this kind of moral slander from… certain individuals," He cut Mori a knowing look, "But not you. Please, reconsi--"

"Kunikida…" Fukuzawa said, voice steady. "This is not the day to challenge my authority. Right now we are under attack and two of our best are abroad. Something is brewing beneath our feet, what it is, we can not yet say. But it's there just below the surface and it had the gull to rear its ugly head in the city I love. And more than that, it harmed innocents under my protection." His voice started to rise, "Attacking me directly is reprehensible but conventional. However, attacking The Agency and tarnishing Yokohama will not be omitted. From now on, I want to know what's going on in my Goddamn city at all times!"

"But sir, that's--"

"This is not a suggestion from your mentor, or a request of your boss, Kunikida." Fukuzawa shouted, slamming his hand on the armrest and startling Sensei Mii. "This is a direct order from your King! I'll not say again, get… it… done."

Kunikida's hand tightened around his notebook, he wanted to argue the matter further but eventually deflated, relenting. "Yes sir." Leaving without another word.

Fukuzawa pinched the bridge of his nose, exasperated, then poured himself a cup of tea. Mori, who had been silent, watched him intently before looking away with a shake of his head. "My, my… the wolf is certainly hungry today," He said.

"You are in no position to judge me."

"I'm not judging you. If anything I'm commending you for having the obduracy to take such actions. And in making such morally compromising demands, you yourself have plausible deniability because no law abiding official would ever believe an order like that would come from you. It's expected of me, so I must say… Bravo."

The condescending beratement was loud and clear, and Fukuzawa wasn't in the mood. "I don't need a reprimanding from you, Doctor." He gruffed.

"No?" Mori piqued. "Need I remind you that we may rule as one, we still wear separate crowns, Yukichi. Making immoral calls and slandering their name is my responsibility not yours. It's my duty both as Yokohama's King of the Night and as the shield in our Soukoku partnership. I cannot keep you from walking the paths you choose, however, it is my job to warn you of what awaits down each route."

Fukuzawa looked down at his now cold tea, guilt ridden eyes staring back up from the green liquid. "This day is hard enough as is, Ogai." He murmured.

Mori pursed his lips and stood from his throne. "I know… I've said what needed to be said, now I'll leave you to your grief. The sooner the children return the better." He motioned for Elise to join him as he left. "Come along, darling. We have a tour to give. We'll stop for ice cream on the way."

"Hurray!" The bubbly girl cheered. "Can I get extra sprinkles, Rintarto?"

"Of course my darling. Whatever you desire."

Once alone with his cat, The King of Twilight gazed out over his kingdom, reflecting on the morning's events, and the events of the past. His gaze turned to Suribatchi City where he prayed for his niece and nephews' safety.

His heart couldn't bear anymore grief.

"Ther'ya go Baby. Have a nice sleep."

Albatross flicked off the light and closed the large paddock door. Making sure the lock was secure and tucking the keys safely into his combat boot. After months of painstakingly intricate work from the ground up, his magnum opus was complete and ready to own the streets.

He wished he could keep her but knew that was against policy. His bargain was he fixes them, but the Agency decides how to use them. He couldn't complain. Getting to spend endless hours in this enormous garage was a dream come true, as was the paycheck he received every week for his labors.

Still, his Baby was special, and Hirotsu agreed to let him get to decide who would use her since he'd put so much love and care into building her. He wouldn't let just anyone have her. So he made a point to keep her hidden away in Paddock Four until the right person came along.

With the only set of keys on his person, he was confident nobody would disturb Baby's rest. He gave the metal door a warm pat; about to start his next job, when the sound of the elevator opening dinged in his ears and Junichiro Tanizaki stepped into the garage, looking around until settling on him.

"There you are, Albatross, I've been looking everywhere for you." Junichiro said, running over to meet him.

While Albatross didn't know him well, he liked Junichiro fine. Of the instructors, he was hands down the most bearable. Not a neurotic perfectionist like Kunikida, or a twisted bastard like the Prince. Sure the kid could use a confidence boost, and his fancy was... taboo, to say the least. But Albatross wasn't one to judge. Besides, only Princess Akiko could top Naomi in hotness.

"Ya ain't gotta look far, Tanizaki. I'm either here workin' on my babies, or in the Red Light District letting my babies work on me." He threw his head back, bellowing with laughter at the redhead's innocent blush, nearly knocking his shades off. "You're the last person who should be blushin', pal! But nev'r mind that. Whatdaya want?"

Junichiro scrambled to procure a slip of paper. Handing it to Albatross. "Orders from the King."

"Which one?"

"The Night. We're supposed to join night patrol units for the city."

Albatross scowled. "Are we huntin' the fuckers who butchered those cute upstarts?" Such a tragic waste, he hadn't even got to give them his number. Sad reality aside, The Agency was famous for their unspoken policy of retaliation when their own are harmed.

Not a Mafia, but still intimidating enough.

"Officially, no. But unofficially, the King's want justice."

"Good." Albatross said, grabbing his biker's helmet. "The bastard better pray I's don't find'em first. Let's go."

Junichiro nodded, then noticed the closed paddock behind the street smart blonde. "Did you finally finish it?"

Albatross grinned. "Hell yeah I did! She's a beauty fit fers royalty."

"But Prince Dazai can't drive."

Albatross spit at the name. "Like I'd let that prick near her even if he could… No way, pal."

The teen thought better than to point out that it wouldn't matter if the prince wanted it.

"Besides, it ain't the person that picks the wheels, it's the wheels that pick the person. Baby needs someone that'll unlock her real potential and appreciate what's she can do. Somebody who'll treat'er like a Queen."

Honestly, Junichiro didn't understand the philosophy all that much, but he did understand wanting to see your work appreciated. And he knew Albatross had put all his blood, sweat, and tears into this project. "I hope you find them."

Albatross shook himself out of his reverie and pulled his shades down, following Junichiro to the elevator. He wouldn't tell the elder Tanizaki that he already had a candidate in mind, one he owed his life to.

"I'm telling you, we've passed that same trashcan five times already!"

Chuuya ran a hand down his face, irritation at peak level from Dazai's oh so helpful observations. "And I'm telling you, if you don't shut up and let me focus we'll never find my old base, so shut up and let me focus!"

Dazai turned to Akiko, who appeared just as annoyed, and groaned. "He's got us lost, Sis. We've been walking in circles for hours, my feet are killing me, and all hope rests on the focal capacity of his microscopic brain. Basically, we're screwed six ways to Sunday. I can read the headlines now…" He raised his hand to emphasize. "Yokohama's Crowned Prince Princess lost forever in the Cursed City, due to Puny Slugs lacking sense of direction!"

"For God's sake Dazai, shut up!" The princess shouted. "You're giving me a headache."

"And who'er you calling puny?" Chuuya grumbled.

"It's not Chuuya's fault." Akiko told her brother. "He hasn't been back here in years and this labyrinth is ridiculous, he can't help getting turned around here and there."

Chuuya gave her an appreciative smirk and Dazai rolled his eyes.

"Oh sure, nothing is ever his fault. He could cause an earthquake at my feet right now and send me plummeting into the pits of hell and that wouldn't be his fault."

"I wouldn't give me ideas if I were you, Mackerel Face." Chuuya said, pocketing his hands.

"Give it a rest, you two!" Akiko said, jumping in between the bickering men.

Dazai huffed, deciding to probe another serious question. "Fine then, Chuuya, if you're oh so knowledgeable about Suribatchi City… despite getting us lost. Why don't you tell me what you know about Mimic?"

Chuuya visibly tensed, yet remained composed. His blue eyes narrowed on the Prince. "Where did you hear about them?"

"Ah… so they are here in Suribatchi."

"Answer the question, Dazai!"

"Who's Mimic?" Akiko asked, confused.

Instead of responding verbally, Dazai reached into his pocket and pulled out the old gun he'd found the day before, passing it to Chuuya, who inspected the kanji engravings on the barrel.

"I found that by the ridge yesterday, before the GSO showed up. I thought it best that they didn't see it, since I had a hunch it might be important somehow. It would appear my hunch was correct."

"I'll be Goddamned." Chuuya breathed. "They really do exist."

"Who are they, Chuuya?"

He handed the gun back to Dazai and retrieved his cigarettes, lighting one and taking a long drag- much to Dazai's annoyance- before answering. "Mimic… are a local legend around here. Said to be ghosts stuck lurking in the shadows of Suribatchi City since its creation hundreds of years ago."

The prince nodded for Chuuya to continue.

"Others say they're guardian angels watching over the unfortunate strays out here. Then some say they are the keepers of some kinda treasure nobody can touch. I never really bought into any of it myself, that…" He gestured to the gun, "Is really the first evidence I've seen that gives some possible confirmation to their existence."

"So you've never met them?" Akiko asked.

"Personally, no. But I knew guys who claimed to've been helped by them, guess I just thought they were full of hot air at the time."

Dazai looked over the gun again, holding his chin in deep thought. "I wonder…"

"What are you thinking, Dazai?"

"Remember our history lessons on Yokohama's founding, Sis? About the battle Emperor Natsume fought that led to Suribatchi's separation from the mainland?"

Akiko pondered to recall the exact lesson Dazai was referring to. It had been a long time since she reviewed their home's history. Then it hit her. "You can't be serious. Surely that's just a myth."

"I'd be inclined to agree with you, but it does seem to add up."

Apparently they knew something Chuuya didn't. "Someone mind cluing me in?" He said, blowing smoke through his nostrils.

It was the Princess who did the honors. "According to legend, Emperor Natsume supposedly hid something here in Suribatchi City before he died, and he entrusted the most loyal members of his royal guard to protect it. They exiled themselves here and were never seen again. Apparently Dazai's got the ludicrous notion they really are ghosts haunting the land."

"Of course I don't believe that, Sis." Dazai said, "But don't forget what uncle Fukuzawa told us… All legends hold an inkling of truth. There's another way for Emperor Natsume's guards to still be here without being ghosts."

"You mean procreation?"

Dazai assented. "Nobody knows what the first emperor possibly hid away, but if his royal guard's descendants are still here in Suribatchi City, that means whatever they're protecting is either priceless… or calamitous."

"Or perhaps it's Natsume's grave?" Akiko reasoned. "His burial sight has never been found, as far as anyone believes, he just vanished without trace when Suribatchi broke off from the mainland."

"Perhaps." Dazai agreed, though it was clear he was only appeasing her.

Regardless, an ominous feeling started to take root in the princess' stomach. This whole conversation was starting to make them all feel uneasy.

"So let me see if I'm understanding correctly…" Chuuya said, chiming in. "Your saying the guy who founded Yokohama, really did hide some kind of great treasure here and that Mimic are descendants of his guards who'er still here today."

"Very good, Chuuya." Dazai praised, condescendingly, "If I had a dog biscuit, you'd earn it."

"Fuck you. My point is, what does any of this have to do with why we're here?"

"Think about it, Chuuya." Akiko said. "There's nothing more enticing than a buried treasure. There's no telling the unimaginable lengths a person would go to for something like that. It's possible whoever is behind all of this is looking for whatever the emperor left behind."

"And it's even more possible that you are the map that can lead to it." Dazai stepped in.

Chuuya raised a brow. "What do you mean?"

"The tunnel you claimed to find five years ago. If what you said was true, it's highly probable that you stumbled upon the location of the lost treasure. That might explain what makes you so important."

Chuuya was about to rebuff the prince's radical hypothesis, unfortunately, the trio were interrupted by the sound of a sudden explosion a couple blocks away.

"What the blazing hell was that?" Akiko asked.

They looked in the direction it came from to see smoke now rising to the sky.

Chuuya didn't hesitate. "Let's find out." And he dashed off.

Dazai sighed. "I swear, his impulsiveness is going to get us all killed." He grumbled before he and Akiko raced after him.

The fire wasn't serious. Just a couple of old forgotten oil barrels that would soon burn out. What concerned Chuuya was how they got lit. There were no signs of life anywhere, other than Dazai and Akiko arriving a few paces behind him. Both surveying the area and scene like he was, but Dazai had to stop and catch his breath from the added weight of carrying both his and Akiko's supply bags.

"What happened?" Akiko asked.

Chuuya motioned to the flaming barrels. "Something or someone decided to set them ablaze. No signs of the ignition though."

Dazai's eyes widened with realization. A trap. "We need to get out of here now!"

Too late.

The ground erupted beneath them with purple energy. Engulfing the surrounding area in a massive swirling vortex of wind and power. The trio struggled to open their eyes with the cyclone. Using their arms as shields.

Dazai chanced a glance to his left and saw his sister battling against the wind to stand her ground, then she noticed him and pointed to the center of the vortex. "Dazai, look!" She screamed. He did and gasped.

At the center of the catastrophe stood a man. A tall, grey haired, boney skeleton of a man, dressed head to toe in tattered black robes. A man that Dazai instantly recognized as the former boss of the Port Mafia.

Something zipped past his peripheral vision and Dazai looked in time to catch sight of another cloaked figure dashing past the alleyways and into the shadows.

Chuuya's voice bellowed over the deafening gale, causing Dazai to turn back to his sister. He saw her reaching for Chuuya, fingertips nearly touching… And an enormous sphere of purple energy exploded from the former boss, decimating the area, and casting three worlds of vision into darkness.

He stood at the end of the docks looking out at Suribatchi City. The cool breeze and salty sea spray infinitely more welcomed than humans blasted warm sunshine.

He didn't even turn around to acknowledge his minion when it manifested from the black puddle behind him.

"Did you get it?" Lovecraft asked.

The creature said nothing but handed it's master the small vial of blood.

"Very good." He said, gazing at the red contents. "The blood of a King holds great power alone… But when amplified by the blood of a Diamond, it's practically divine."

With that, the ink creature dissolved into nothing and The Ancient One leapt into the sea for his next destination, Suribatchi City.

Have I mentioned I love Generation 1? Mori and Fukuzawa are incredible. I love writing them.

Any ideas what Mori bought off the black market and why?

I had to brush up on my Lovecraft to write this chapter. Lol!

If you read the light novels you can probably guess what Albatross is keeping under lock and key.

Next time, our trio find themselves is some unfortunate situations.