Ren rode his horse a bit harder than usual, drawing a few surprised glances to himself as he galloped through the early morning streets of Tock-Yo. He was annoyed. Makoto- no: The Niijima-woman... She was starting to seem like a mistake. She'd been useful yesterday, but now she was simply getting in the way. Using some sort of… trick or mindgame, she had him accept a partnership with her. Then, he'd let himself be talked out of pursuing the vampire immediately, even though his earlier delay to recharge had resulted in the Shiho girl's injury.

Not only that! But she'd only fought ferals! Anyone with half a brain could kill a pack of ferals. All one had to do was keep your distance while picking them off. Avoid their claws. Avoid their fangs. Avoid getting swarmed and dragged down. And cut off their heads. Child's play.

A drunkard stumbled off a streetside stoop and fell into Ren's path. He leapt the horse easily over the flailing man.

Well, that fellow would be a goner from just one feral. Maybe… maybe he was being too harsh on Ms. Niijima. But still! Calling herself a vampire hunter! Never having hunted a vampire!

And she didn't reset his saddle straps! Who borrows a horse and doesn't readjust the straps for the original rider? Who does that?!

Ren was nursing a mild headache. He was used to being on his own. Going where he wanted. Seeing a target and hunting it down, as he saw fit. Now with other people to balance... the social realities of this city... He missed the frontier. The peace and simplicity. And it was only day two of this hunt. Not to mention this other vamp-slave that tried to get into the Niijima estate. That seemed to herald a longer urban campaign for him: multiple vampires in this city. Ren grimaced. Maybe if he was offered a contract for this other supposed vampire, he would decline it. He'd never declined a mark. But this time?

Unbidden, Niijima Makoto's crimson gaze flashed before Ren's mind. Her smallish nose and sharp chin.

But this time?... Maybe.

The city gate could be smelled before it could be seen. The concentration of stables, ox-carts, and laboring men created a sort of olfactory bubble that was blatantly obvious to anyone that didn't spend most of their time within its borders. Ren picked his way through the muddle, everyone too busy to pay attention to one more darkly dressed traveler.

There was only one mechanic's garage here, so it seemed to be the obvious location of Makoto's- Ms. Niijima's recommended mechanic. The claimed man-of-many-talents. Ren stopped his horse at the threshold of the garage and dismounted. The dim garage was neat, but cluttered with many items and tools beyond Ren's knowledge to name. Two motorcycles were resting on stilts in varied states of dismantlement. The barnyard smell of the city gate was significantly cut by the smell of petrol, oils, and other stranger things.

But where was the man?

"Oy!"

Ren waited. A door in the back of the garage opened. A square-faced, mature man looked out, blinked when he saw Ren, and then came out into the garage. He put a boxy, front-billed hat on his head as he walked towards Ren.

"Good morning, sir. What can I-" his grey eyes shifted past Ren. "Whoa! Is that a Equinemek III?"

Ren followed the man's eager gaze back to his own mechanical horse. "Uh-, I'm unsure. I just know how to ride it."

"Seriously? I didn't think I'd ever see another one of these things again. The factory broke down when I was just a kid. That was like… thirty years ago." Iwai looked at Ren with an eager expression. "Could- could I take a closer look at it, sir?"

"My name is Amamiya," Ren said. And if this man was as good as Mako-... Ms. Niijima claimed, then his goodwill might be a valuable thing to possess. "By all means, take as close a look as you like."

A genuine expression of modest glee transformed Iwai's face, and he rushed forward, took up the reigns of the horse, and led the animatron into the shade of the garage. Iwai ran his hands over the horse's flank.

"Amazing design. So lifelike. You have to admit, they did some amazing work."

"They?"

"The vampires. Just really top notch stuff."

Oh, right. Ren froze, but he was habitually a still person, so Iwai didn't seem to notice. He was too absorbed with the machine, anyway. Ren had taken this machine from his mother's stables. It was his impression that mechanical horses were common enough amongst humans to not be too surprising. He was doubting that now.

"There are no mechanical horses in Tock-yo?" Ren asked.

"Oh, there are a few model twos in some rich folk's collections. They get brought out for parades sometimes. Or to show off. But nothing like this model three, here. At first glance, you can't even tell it's not a real horse!"

Ren frowned as he looked at his own beast. "I wasn't aware these were so rare."

Iwai turned and his mouth gaped at him. Then it closed with a click. "Well, I suppose a man living by the deep river isn't aware there's a drought. The factory that made these things broke down a while back. No new model threes. No new parts."

"The factory could not be repaired?"

Iawi shook his head as he opened up a control panel on the side of the horse and gazed admiringly at some blinking lights. "The vampire staff did all the technical work. The humans were for the labor. During the Uprising: the vampires fled- or were slain- and so the knowledge left with them. Still, like this thing," Iwai tapped the horse, "The factory was built well, and it ran for years before finally grinding to a stop. The people couldn't figure out how to get it running again so they abandoned it."

It was the same story all over the frontier. The abandoned ruins of the old empire lay rusting and decaying in the wilderness. Those who understood them were mostly gone, and the humans who remained forsook them as cursed places. Any intuitive soul was usually stymied by the complexity of the lost technology. There was only so much a curious mind and a hammer could accomplish.

Ren stood quietly in thought as Iwai continued to examine the horse. He was lifting up the mechanical horse's fake fail, presumably to see if the machine had a horse's anus, when he stopped himself and turned back to Ren.

"Oh! My apologies, Mr. Amamiya. You've been patient enough with me. What can I do for you?"

"I was referred to your shop by a... " Ren paused. Maybe he was thinking of taking back this partnership thing, but it would be foolish to not try to exploit it for now. "...by my new business partner: Niijima Makoto. She said you were the man to see about anything I might need."

Iwai's face became suspicious. "Ms. Niijima referred you? Her partner? She's never had a partner before."

"I believe I witnessed the idea spring into her mind a few seconds before she mentioned it to me."

Iwai laughed suddenly, the suspicion fading away. "Oh, you do know her! Okay, Mr. Amamiya. I think I know what kind of things you mean. Come into my shop. My real shop."

Ren was curious now. He followed Iwai back into the room from whence he emerged. Several compact cases and wall racks surrounded a small room. All of them were filled with various weapons. Blades. Blunt objects. Guns. And several things Ren could not name nor identify. A hallway stretched away immediately left, and the wall here was only waist high, revealing an open-air courtyard. The seemingly thick walls of the courtyard were blastmarked and the earth was cratered and scorched. Shell casings of various sizes were littered everywhere. A single, raggedy manikin stood in the center, obviously for target practice. It was some kind of firing range.

"Excuse the mess. I really hate making ammunition, so I avoid cleaning up," Iwai sighed to himself. "Which lets the shells get dirty and makes the whole process worse, but I never learn."

Ren said nothing as Iwai closed the door behind him. He then circled around Ren to stand behind the main case of weaponry, presumably his main wares for sale.

"So what do you need? Repairs? Modifications? Something new?"

Ren considered Iwai a moment. Then unsheathed his longsword. Iwai eyed the blade as Ren set it down upon the counter. He tentatively reached out to touch it.

"Wow, that's a thin blade. It's almost like a rapier. Interesting texture. What kind of metal is that?"

"Steel, I presume."

Iwai flashed him a frown. "Mmmm… I don't think so. And I wouldn't want to sharpen it if I don't know what it's made of."

"It doesn't need sharpening. It's the hilt. Something is loose, but it's intermittent. Sometimes it is firm and sometimes it is not. I no longer wish to risk it."

"Oh, well, that seems mundane enough. I can have that fixed easily. It won't take long."

Ren nodded, moving his hands along his equipment belt. Next his hand passed over his swordbreaker, but that dagger was fine; Ren instead pulled out his other small weapon from his hip. He set the broken wrist crossbow down on the counter. Iwai picked it up and considered the fractured frame and snapped curve.

"I'm afraid it's a goner, Mr. Amamiya. Even if I try to repair this, it will never hold the tension you need for a killing shot."

"I feared as much."

"Well, items like this are common enough. But-" Iwai cast another appraising glance over Ren's weaponry and his clothing. "But perhaps you are a man with coin. A main with coin because he doesn't spend extravagantly. Because he has yet to see something extravagant that he desires…"

Ren recognized a sales pitch when he heard one. But what harm was there in looking? "I'm listening, Mr. Iwai."

Iwai beamed an eager smile. He bent down and pulled out a small handgun. It was somewhat squarish, except for the extra length of the handgrip. It was a bit smaller than his ruined crossbow.

"I imagine you are looking to fill a similar-sized hole in your kit with similar killing power at range. This is what you want, Mr. Amamiya."

Ren frowned down at the firearm. "Why would I spend more coin on a single-shot gun to replace a single-shot crossbow?"

Iwai's smile grew wider. "Ah, but it's not a single shot. It has thirteen shots."

"How? There is no way there is a cylinder in there."

"Right you are! It's not fed by a cylinder like a common revolver. It's spring-fed from the bottom. See?"

Iwai lifted the weapon, pushed a button, and the center of the handgrip fell out. A dozen bullets were stacked neatly atop one another in the detachable piece. Iwai shoved them back up into the weapon with a click. "It's really foolish to keep it loaded like this, but the cinematic effect of the reveal just can't be matched."

Ren was intrigued. A dozen bullets without the need to reload? In such a small package. He did want that.

"Can I try it?"

"Of course."

Iwai led him over to the range. He set the weapon on a small shelf and stepped back. Ren picked it up and examined the smooth outer surface of the weapon. It looked advanced, but it really was a pretty simplistic item, to his eye. A few pieces of metal moving against one another.

"The top section of the gun can be pulled back to load the first round into the chamber. So if you really wanted, you could keep one round already in there with the twelve below it."

Ren's excitement faded abruptly as he pulled the top half of the weapon back as instructed. "I have to do this after every shot?"

"No. The force of the gunshot will automatically load the next round. Just like a revolver. Try it."

Ren was doubtful. Reload a single chamber by shooting? But he pointed the weapon at the manikin and squeezed the trigger.

POP!

The sound was surprisingly tinny. Kind of like a low caliber revolver. Not a lot of power, but a hole appeared in the wall above the manikin's head. Ren frowned. He'd forgotten that bullets don't fall nearly so fast as crossbow bolts. He lowered his aim. Pulled the trigger again.

POP!

POP! POP!

Wow! It worked! That really was impressive. He wanted it. But then he forced himself to lock down his face. It would not do to let Iwai know how impressed he was with the item before starting the negotiation over price. He was just about to turn back around to the mechanic when:

"Good morning! Mr. Iwai!" called a light, feminine voice from back in the garage.

Iwai looked towards the closed door. "Huh. Busy morning. I'll be right back, Mr. Amamiya. Feel free to use the rest of the rounds up, if you want."

Ren didn't want to waste ammo, so he examined the weapon. Keeping his finger well away from the trigger, he pulled back the top of the weapon to see how the bullet rested in the chamber. Interesting.

"Ms. Okumura!" said Iwai's voice, "I wasn't expecting you this morning! But you're arrival is perfect. I finished your item just last night."

"Oh, that makes me so happy!" came a giggly, girly voice. "Can I see it?"

"Of course! Of course! Come right on back."

Ren turned his head towards the door as Iwai came back through with an eager face. A shopkeeper with a big spender, certainly. But instead of small woman that Ren envisioned based on that voice, a tall, broad-shouldered man in a blue uniform entered. He had a large revolver at his hip, and his gaze snapped to Ren with a professional alacrity.

Ren tensed but made no move. The uniformed man stared at him.

"That's another customer of mine," said Iwai.

"Mr. Ako, move won't you?" said the feminine voice again. "You're in my way."

"Sorry, Ms. Okumura," said the big man, breaking eye contact with Ren and stepping aside.

A petite young woman in a flowery dress entered. Her hair was framed with curly brown hair and both her eyes and her smile sparkled.

"Oh!" She stopped. "Sorry to interrupt you, sir." She gave Ren a curtsey as another big, meaty looking man with a gun and blue uniform followed in just behind her.

Ren bowed. Returning polite gesture with a formal greeting. "There is no trouble. My name is Amamiya Ren."

"A pleasure, Mr. Amamiya," the girl bowed this time. "I'm Okumura Haru."

Ren's eyes traveled to the two uniformed men.

"Oh, and this is Mr. Ako and Mr. Kato. They work for my father's company."

"Okumura Security," said the first guard, "Maybe you've heard of it?"

Ren hadn't, but why stir the pot? "Of course."

That seemed to satisfy Mr. Ako. And then everyone was distracted by Iwai pulling out a bulky contraption from his case. It looked sort of like a gun. It had a two handles and an obvious trigger. But it had a huge cylinder, like it used beer bottles for bullets.

"Here it is, Ms. Okumura. I tested it just yesterday and I think I have it perfect!"

"Yay!" said Haru. She reached for the strange weapon. It looked heavy, but Haru's thin arms took on the bulk with apparent ease. She walked forward to stand next to Ren on the firing range just as Iwai arrived with a small box of what looked like... small beer bottles.

"This is the ammunition, Ms. Haru. I've really nailed down the process for making them. Here's how you load it."

Iwai showed the girl the loading process as Ren and the two guards stood around watching. Everyone seemingly equally curious to see what this strange mini-drum weapon could do. Then, as Haru was sliding in the last of the beer bottle things, a third guard appeared in the doorway.

"Ms. Haru, I have a message."

Haru sighed. And for the first time, Ren saw her smile fade slightly from her face. "From who?"

"Mr. Sugimura."

Haru's smile died, her face went pale, and all the sparkle left it. But she said: "Okay. Give it to me."

She took the note in one hand and used her thumb to open the sheaf of paper. There was a good amount of writing on it, though Ren could not make out what it said. Haru's smile reappeared as she read it, but it was a lifeless version of itself; the lips making the shape of the smile, with none of its spirit- and Haru's eyes remained flinty. Still smiling, she crumpled up the letter and handed it back to one of her guards.

"Okay. I'm going to try this thing now!"

She steadied the odd, mini-barrel weapon against herself. Her dead smile revealed white teeth in a snarl.

Iwai put his hands to his ears. Ren decided to imitate him.

Choonk. BOOM!

Ren flinched away from the noise and blast, his wide-brimmed hat threatening to fly off his head. Smoke and dust swirled around the small gun range. Haru was laughing with glee, her brown curls bobbing as she hopped up and down in excitement.

"Oh, my! Wasn't that graceful?!"

Ren dusted off his clothing. Graceful? He looked for the manikin in the center of the gun range. It was just gone. What was graceful about that? It was the opposite of grace!

"These are just test rounds!" Iwai half shouted. "The real things will have even more kick, and some bits of metal in them to really do some damage when they pop!"

"Mmm" said Haru, as she handed the weapon back to Iwai. "And I love the way it smells! It's so invigorating."

"Uh-" said Iwai, "I'm glad you like it."

"I'll take it. The test rounds. The real rounds. All of it. Bill it to the company office, won't you, please, Mr. Iwai?"

"Of course, Ms. Okumura. And shall I have the items delivered?"

"Heavens, no. I'll take them now. Mr. Ako? Mr. Kato?"

"Yes, Ms. Okumura!"

The uniformed men stood steady as Iwai loaded stacks of small, wooden crates into their arms. Haru watched for a few moments, then seemed to remember that Ren was there. She turned back towards him.

"Sorry again- Mr. Amamiya wasn't it?"

"Yes. And think nothing of it. Your weapon is- interesting."

"Mhmmhmm…" Haru hummed as a sort of response as her violet eyes traveled up and down Ren. Her eyes flicked to his ears a couple of times in the span of a few seconds. Ren sucked in breath. Here it was. The moment she realized he was a dhampir.

"Oh! I see now," said Haru, "You have an interesting family ancestry, Mr. Amamiya. That's what is so unique about you."

Ren's social dread died in his chest. An interesting family ancestry? That was- that was about as polite as the reality could be stated. "It would be inaccurate to call me unique. There are plenty of others exactly like me."

"Perhaps in the world, but not in Tock-yo. And you are a vampire hunter, I presume?"

"You are well informed."

"Maybe. Or maybe I just looked at how you dress. But anyway, it's logical you would need to be a hunter to be allowed here in the city. Are you close to your mark?"

"It's early yet."

"Well, come dine with me some evening and tell me about your adventures," Haru smiled at Ren, most of the sparkling having returned to it. "I would adore a dinner guest who isn't a total bore."

Ren assumed that was just an empty, but polite invitation. He bowed slightly. "I would be honored."

"The Okumura Estate. Just ask anyone where it is. Inquire the day before you intend to arrive, won't you?"

The day before? She was serious? Inviting a dhampir to dinner? "Of- of course, Ms. Okumura." Ren realized he sounded like every other man in the room. It was like this young woman cast some kind of spell over them all.

She smiled brightly. "Don't forget! I'll be sad if you leave town without seeing me."

She glanced over her shoulder as her guards exited into the garage with her purchases. She bowed slightly again. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Amamiya!" And then she turned, bowed to Iwai and said a farewell, and then followed her guards.

Iwai and Ren looked at the doorway for a few quiet moments, both lost in thought.