FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

On the day of Tsuchimura's funeral, the homicide branch of the Kaijuro Police had been in an uproar for the past few days since discovering her remains. After all the forensics had been cleared and her body was returned back to her family, Gaho Murata sat at his desk poring over the database of criminals alongside Reed O'Sauressy. Scrolling through names and faces on a computer pad, their eyes started to wander over the many kaiju recorded for various crimes and misdemeanours, the chattering of bugs and lizards and hairy mammals filling the room.

"Gods," Sauressy clenched his long neck, "even when we narrowed it down to the ladies with wings and sonic beams there's still a lot here."

"Criminals are criminals," Murata sighed, "I swear I've seen her before."

"Maybe you dated her once, I mean she did know your name."

"No...I must have detained her before, there's no other way."

"Soooo this isn't an ex?"

The turtle looked to him with resting bitch face, his tusks in a constant frown as Reed smiled apologetic before returning back to scrolling the database. Every criminal was listed here, from those strong enough to lift a car, to those with energy-based powers such as plasma bolts and fire breaths.

Naturally, this was an enormous database, and whilst it did not account for the non-energy-based criminals, who were on a separate database for easier filing, it would give them their answer when Murata saw a face of sharp red staring out amongst the sea of fiends.

"Stop, there! That's her, definitely!"

"Huh, really?" the New York serpent looked over. "Couldn't get a look of her myself after getting sonic-blasted in the face."

"I mean, that was who fled the room but...the teeth don't make sense, her teeth are too small-"

"You found that killer yet?"

They heard the voice of their captain, Gondo's long snout and drooping eyes looming over them.

"Please tell me she's in there."

"She is," Murata tapped her picture still loading on the screen, "we just found her now, we'll get her details out."

"Good good, you bring her back and we'll finally put this Host nonsense to rest."

"Sir, wait."

Murata stood up as Sauressy hunched over the screen.

"Something's wrong with this whole case, I feel it in my gut."

"What, I thought you found the killer."

"I did, but, it just doesn't add up. Her jaws don't fit the bite marks from the other victims."

"Wait, what?"

"The cast that was made from the bite marks, remember?" Gaho crossed his arms. "That suspect is the one we found with Tsuchimura, but her teeth are way too small., it doesn't fit!"

"But she WAS the killer fleeing from the scene?" asked Baruti scratching his horn. "We can handle the particulars after we catch her."

"Yes of course but I don't think she-"

"Look, I just want Kaneyama behind bars, if there's some inconsistency with previous killings, we'll clear it up once we interrogate her alright?"

"Kaneyama?" muttered Reed watching the screen.

"Just stop her from killing again, that's what's most important, right?"

"Yes...sir, you're right," Murata nodded, "prevention first and foremost."

"Exactly," Gondo sighed, "now, after you finish your report, I'll need you out on community work."

"I thought that was next week?"

"We had a reshuffle, the understaffing hit us hard so I need you to do this week as well."

"Ah. Alright then."

"Sorry Murata." The chief patted his arm. "You're a good worker, and I hate to take advantage of you but-"

"It's fine," the turtle rubbed this head, "we're all working together, long as creatures out there are safe."

"Good, keep me posted."

Heading to his office, Baruti Gondo waved them off as Gaho sat back down next to Sauressy, who opened up the file on their perp.

"Gyao Shin Kaneyama," the serpent tapped his claw on the screen, "has previous for assault and battery, along with drug-dealing-"

"Kaneyama?" Gaho muttered looking back.

"Seems a real piece of work, and yep, you were the arresting officer, back four years ago, but she got bailed out, never served time."

"So she's escalated to murder?" Murata looked back to the screen and rubbed his chin. "Drug-dealing's pretty bad as is, and a lot more profitable."

"Well her being a repeat offender makes things easier that's for sure."

"Hmm...you remember the teeth mould that the squints made?"

"Sure do," Reed leaned back in his chair, "I overheard ya, and you're right the teeth don't match, I can tell from here."

"Every single victim of the Host had the same bite marks on the cheek, always the left cheek. Tsuchimura was the same, so it stands to reason that was the Host's work."

"Plus the calling card, forty-nine right?"

"Exactly, same machine type, so..." Murata rubbed his tusks with a sigh, "yeah it has to be the Host but she's not, her teeth just don't match."

"Well if it's not HER teeth," Sauressy rolled his hand, "it has to be someone else's, right?"

"So...we must be dealing with two killers. Kaneyama's one of them, but the one with the fangs must be somewhere else."

"Alright, I mean I agree with you, she ran off to someplace specific right?"

"She did, so-"

He put a finger up as something vibrated in his pocket, checking his phone with a nod.

"Morgue's got a result on the other body, wanna come?"

"Nah," Sauressy shook his head, "I'll get more info on this Kaneyama from the database while you do."

"Alright, back in a bit."

Departing from the homicide branch, Murata walked down various halls of clinical white walls and stark blue floors, his shell gleaming under the lights as he nodded to other officers passing by before he descended down the steps to the basement. In the coldest part of the station, beneath the earth itself, his breath slightly clouded as he waited before a set of electronic doors and buzzed the intercom.

"Murata here, you got details on that sewer body?"

"Sure have, come on in."

The doors opened with a buzz as he entered a small chamber that suddenly blasted him with sterilising air, a frothy gas that seeped into his clothes as he clenched against the uncomfortable chill before being allowed to pass through. The dry cold morgue was an operating room with several steel tables laid out in the rectangular hall, one of which had the now-naked body from the sewers sprawled over the metal slab.

Under the harsh light, Murata could see it was practically a skeleton, the thorax and abdomen of a praying mantis laid bare with some flecks of skin still remaining, but most of the muscle and organs now atrophied to a thin soulless husk. The only living creature in this room was a raven that towered over Murata, a white labcoat and gloves thickly covering her clawed fingers with her her wings neatly tucked behind her back.

"I have a bone to pick with you," she started, "I know you wore gloves but you really shouldn't have picked up that key under the body."

"My apologies Shinigawa," the turtle bowed, "it was a heat of the moment, we were hoping to find more evidence-"

"Forensic evidence is MY domain, Murata, you touch nothing. Now, the victim."

She led him over to the body and handed him a pair of gloves he snapped on.

"The body is at least two months old, judging from the dry stage and lack of odour decay. Far as we can tell his throat was slit, you can see the scrapings across the top of the thorax."

"You know what kind of blade it was?" Murata leaned close.

"It wasn't straight, has a curve that goes outwards from the way it tapers at the middle, so not your usual blade."

"Do we know who it is yet?"

"Yes thanks to the fingerprints from his wallet," she pulled out a brief report from a drawer under the table, "Kama Kurasawa, disappeared three months ago according to a missing creatures report, aged forty-three, was a journalist for K-O Sports."

"Isn't that a magazine?" Murata shook his head reading the brief. "Poor bastard, what did he find some sorta corruption scandal?"

"I don't concern myself with the why, just the who, how, when and what. Thank gods the wallet was still there, pleather's a miracle for preserving fingerprints."

"Was he killed by the Host?"

"I don't think so," the raven shook her head, "none of the usual MO, no bite marks, no dismemberment, also a different blade. The Host uses a straight-edged blade, this guy was killed with a curved blade going outwards. Considering how consistent they've been with their methods, almost to the letter with past victims, it's unlikely Kurasawa was killed by the Host."

"But his body was found with Tsuchimura," he flicked to the last page, "the key was under her body-"

"Which you removed, I'm still reporting that."

"I SAID I was sorry-"

"Anyways, there was one other thing about this body I found. He was tied up, and also moved from his original spot."

"Really?"

"We found fibre traces round the wrists and ankles," Shinigawa pointed, "he was bound at some point, then killed, then carried over elsewhere before the ropes were taken away."

"We found no blood under him," the turtle scratched his head, "but he was in the Host's lair, why wasn't he just killed there?"

"I wish I knew," the raven shrugged, "I don't want to make assumptions, I'm just telling you what's on the table."

"Well this helps a lot for sure." He bowed taking the report. "Thank you Shinigawa, if you find anything else let me know."

"I will," she nodded, "long as you keep your hands to yourself next time there's a crime scene."

Rolling his eyes he headed back upstairs and rejoined Sauressy in compiling all the info they could on Gyao Shin Kaneyama, before lunchtime rolled around and they went to the cafeteria to savour some thick burgers, a side of salad and some fruit drinks to perk them up. The break rooms were always packed, whether it was the walrus janitor fixing the vending machine, or the baseball game playing on TV whilst officers rooted for their teams. But Gaho and Reed had their own entertainment in the form of a rectangular table sitting in the back, with two paddles and a white ball placed by the net in the centre.

"What's the score again?" asked Sauressy.

"Three all," said Murata taking his paddle, "no bets this time?"

"Naaah just a friendly game, but we'll still keep score."

"Right, that's how it always starts doesn't it?"

Gaho served first, tapping the ping-pong ball on his side of the table before he whacked it across the net, a light smack that let it bounce to test the feel as Sauressy whipped it back and the turtle shot it back once again. Slowly they built up the pace, the white orb turning into a blur as the rhythmic sound of paddle on ball started to fill up the room with a few curious eyes glancing over their play.

Back and forth it became a metronome, their hands flicking in a steady rhythm until Gaho suddenly cracked a solid swing that shot the ball to near the edge of Reed's field, the serpent reacting too late as a comet shot past his wrist.

"AUGH jeez!"

"Best out of three?" Murata smiled.

"Yeaaah I guess," the serpent rubbed his neck, "how do you do that?"

"It's all the wrist, just need to figure the timing to strike it."

They set up a play again, Reed serving this time as he whacked it over the net and Gaho returned, building the rhythm up once as Sauressy started to get aggressive with a slam of the ball sending it far left when Murata was leaning right. But the tortoise was much faster than expected, sidestepping with a lunging backhand that surprised the sea serpent as he fumbled with a bad slap that made the ball bounce soft in an arc on his side of the table.

Murata did not destroy him there and then however. Instead he decided to lure him out, tapping the ball back with a teasing whap that sailed it back to Reed who became immensely suspicious and bounced it back. The turtle did not pick up his speed, waiting for the serpent to go faster and faster before Sauressy made a furious slam when Murata pretended to lean too far left. It was just what Murata was waiting for when he suddenly jumped right and made a savage strike that made the table shudder from the ball's impact, bouncing straight past Reed's shoulder as a few claps came round the room.

"Good game," he offered his hand, "that's four-three then."

"Heh, you won't be so lucky next time," Reed shook it back, "I know your tricks now."

"I'd hope so, it's been seven games, can you still teach an old monster new tricks?"

"Hey!"

They laughed as Sauressy grabbed Gaho's head and noogied him a little before they went to leave the station. Unbeknownst to them, the walrus at the vending machine peered over her shoulder with a glint in her eye.

"That strength...that precision...could he be the one?"

With uniforms on and badges polished, Gaho and Reed strutted out into Kaijurocho searching for any potential problems or lost tourists to redirect. The sky had cleared up enough that the sun was shining over the rooftops as they wandered down Shachifuku Street.

"What's our first call?" asked Reed.

"Thinking of finding K-O Sports," Murata tapped his head. "That Kurasawa's body disturbs me."

"Wanna know what I think? I think, this Kaneyama got to do her own little fresh kill and he was the one she did in."

"If we're going with the two-killers theory, that's not the worst I've heard."

"It's still weird a journalist gets killed, I mean, might be a coincidence but, if he was snooping where he shouldn't have been, he might've just got unlucky."

"The Host never had a type or preference of their victim. Let's just assume that Kaneyama doesn't either and is just an opportunist."

They checked their phones and found the location of the magazine company on Zennyo Avenue, a small distance from the brothels one street over as they stepped inside an apartment building through twisting tight hallways and narrow stairs until they found and knocked on the company's door.

"Hello?" a large husky badger greeted them in argyle vest.

"Good afternoon, I'm Sgt. Detective Murata and this is Sgt. Detective Reed."

"O-oh, can I help you?"

"We've come to talk about an employee of yours, a Kama Kurasawa?"

"Wait, what about him?!" he grabbed the door in a stagger. "Have you found him! Oh I was worried about him he's been gone for-"

"Three months," said O'Sauressy, "we have some bad news, he's...well, we found his body several days ago. He was murdered."

"N-...no." The badger clutched his face. "Oh no, n-no no you can't be serious!"

"I'm sorry, you have my condolences mister...?"

"Uh, Mujimura," he bowed and offered his card, "I'm the chief editor of K-O Sports, please come in."

Stepping into the office they saw several desks where creatures typed away on computers, the editor guiding the officers to some couches in the back. All of the workers looked up nervously as one kitsune in a brown suit turned in her seat.

"What happened?"

"Everyone keep working," said Mujimura.

"Did they find Kurasawa?!"

"Yes he...I'm sorry to tell you all that...he's dead."

A gasp rippled through the office as the badger raised his hands trying to keep calm.

"I know, I know, it's a shock to me too, please...let's just help the police with their inquiries, alright?"

They nodded and tried to go back to their work, shaken visibly as the cops sat down with the editor-in-chief.

"Surprised how small your company is," said Murata.

"We hire several bloggers too," said Mujimura, "our physical staff is small, but we got a pretty robust company with a printer's that we hire out."

"I've seen your magazine in stores, not a sports fan myself but I have seen them. So, first off, my condolences also for Kurasawa-san."

"Thank you."

"Second, what was his job here exactly?"

"He was a journalist," the badger sighed rubbing his eyes, "he...s-sorry, just, can't believe he's gone."

"It's alright," Sauressy leaned forwards, "take all the time you need and answer when you're ready."

"Thank you...he was, s-such a spark in our team you know, he didn't treat this like a day job, he really pushed hard to get all the facts."

"What sort of stuff did he do?"

"Well he went to games, checked on teams, read interviews, just immersed himself in the day-to-day culture of the beautiful game. We mostly do soccer and baseball naturally, but he was always ahead, he was the first kaiju to learn about the sandbagging scam over at the Wyverns and that was big!"

"So he was a good journalist?" Murata nodded. "Was he well-respected, he have any enemies?"

"No, not at all!" Mujimura clutched his vest. "He was well-loved, he always drove us to keep being better, he had a PASSION that was just...so rare in the world of sports journalism, I mean I know we're just a pokey little magazine but I genuinely felt he could have gone to the big papers but he never did."

"Why's that?"

"I don't know, he just said he loved the team here, it felt more pure and less copy-paste than the big papers do. Truth is I think he just enjoyed the lack of bureaucracy we have, we tend to be straight-shooters and not mince our words if a team is doing badly."

"Hm, I like that," Sauressy picked up one of their magazines on the table, "I used to read the papers back in New Jersey, and some of them were real bootlickers."

"Well if you're in a newspaper you get paid by companies," the badger shrugged, "as a result, sponsorships demand you say certain things and hide certain other things, that's a common thing."

"You sound like you know that well."

"I used to write for Tokyo Times so...yes."

"Are you sure he didn't have any enemies?" asked Murata clenching his hands. "Surely as a journalist he must have upset one or two creatures in his time."

"Absolutely not," the editor shook his head, "we're a local magazine with a small fanbase, and yes we get the odd disagreement in our letters but never any death threats or violence! Besides, if anyone wanted to target him they'd find it rather difficult."

"Why is that?"

"He never used computers," said the kitsune spinning round from her desk, "Kura-san didn't even have a Screecher account, he never went on social media."

"He also never used his full name," added Mujimura, "always signed his articles as K.K. and well, it caught on because it was catchy."

"I see," Sauressy squinted craning his neck, "so how did you contact him, do you have any last messages from him?"

"He had his phone, do you not have it?"

"It wasn't found with his body no, my apologies."

"Oh...oh gods Kura-san," the badger covered his eyes in a shudder, "what, wh-what in gods' name did you get into?"

"Um, officers?" the kitsune piped up. "You were asking about last messages, right?"

"Yes?" Murata turned to her.

"I uh...so, he did leave a message, voicemail, I kept a backup of it from my phone."

"You did?"

"Wait, wh-what?!" the chief editor gasped. "Kiki-chan, you never said!"

"You heard the message already, I just...kept it after the police took the original recording. I missed him."

She rubbed her arms feeling a shudder of shame through her fur, a tear trickling down her cheek as Reed stood up to walk beside her.

"I'm sorry. Would you mind letting us hear this message he left?"

"He...I mean, I kinda knew he wasn't coming back after hearing it so..."

Pulling up the file on her computer, dating back to June 3rd, Kiki let it run with the last known words of Kurasawa playing, a breathless husky voice coming from a phone call in what sounded like a bustling crowd.

"Hey, it's me. Sorry I can't come back to the office, something...gods, I uh, I found something bad in Yokohama, like really bad, some dark shit is happening and it's creeping down into Tokyo, this is way bigger than sports and I don't think I...I'm...I might not be coming back, they got their sights on me. I got evidence, but I can't bring it back, they'll find me and they'll find you. I gave the key to my little assistant, tell him 'Hydrakion dropped the ball', he'll understand. I gotta go, wish me luck."

The call soon ended. Gaho and Reed looked to each other with Mujimura taking a heavy sigh and softly weeping on the couch.

"Do you know what he discovered?" Murata asked.

"I don't know," Kiki shook her head, "and no, I don't know what this key is or what little assistant he had, none of us got any keys from him."

"Could you replay that call again?" asked Reed. "Make it louder if you can."

"Uhhh, s-sure."

She boosted the volume and replayed the call, trying to calm herself from the voice of her deceased friend as Sauressy leaned in close.

"I got evidence, but I can't bring it back, they'll find me and they'll find you-"

" -calling at platform eight-"

"I gave the key to my little assistant, tell him 'Hydrakion dropped the ball', he'll understand-"

" -inza now departing."

"There!" Sauressy tapped his ear. "I heard it, Ginza now departing, calling at platform eight."

"Damn, not bad," Murata nodded, "maybe we can trace his last movements from there and figure out what happened."

"But the police already took the recording," said the clerk, "didn't they find anything?"

"Probably," the turtle stepped to the door, "but it wasn't our case then, now it is, so maybe a fresh pair of eyes can help. Thank you for all your help, we'll let you know if we find anything."

"I hope you do," said Mujimura standing up, "I'll show you out, take care officers and, thank you again for letting us know about Kura-san."

Heading out onto the street, Murata and Sauressy headed towards the train station situated a short driving distance from Kaijurocho. Taking a rickshaw taxi as a large pillbug greeted them, the rack attached to his body as he rolled into a ball and shuttled down the road with unerring accuracy and a surprising pace to match the other cars on the road, sliding into a specialised lane painted green for "organic vessels" separate from the machines.

The station was lovingly rendered in marble from the outside, an old institution where all of Tokyo's population had wandered through its labyrinthine halls over the course of two centuries. Monsters, beasts and kaiju crisscrossed through the passages like an anthill, skittering insects and lumbering mammals in pintucked suits alongside punkish shirts and summer clothes.

Through the corridors of thick suspended columns, past lockers and stalls and information kiosks as well as wide stairs upwards and downwards leading to different platforms as the rumbling shudder of trains deafened the place, the two sergeants stepped to the security office as a large centipede guard led them inside.

"Sorry for the mess," he muttered, "don't get many visitors around."

"It's fine," Murata said, "thank you for letting us come check the feeds."

"So what's the date you're looking for?"

"June 3rd," said Sauressy, "we're looking for any cameras near the payphones."

"Mmmm I got some over here, I'll change the feeds around so you can do that while I keep working."

The security room was a pokey little place of two-dozen different TVs all glaring with snapshots throughout the station. The guard switched over six different screens all showing payphones as he rewound them back to the day. With cautious eyes they reeled through the footage to find Kurasawa, alive in the past with his long familiar coat as the praying mantis hurried towards a phone and started talking.

"Alright good," Murata sighed, "did the police come by last time too to check this?"

"Sure did," said the centipede on his seats, "they came up with nothing either."

"Why not?"

"I didn't ask, they got pretty frustrated and left, I did my part."

They kept watching as the journalist looked at his watch upon his long thin arm, almost like he was waiting for someone as he kept on the call. Then he put it down, just before the flooding of a huge crowd filled the halls and swarmed en masse to turn half the screen black with a sea of bodies. By the time the crowd would clear out after two solid minutes of wall-to-wall passengers, Kurasawa had disappeared.

"Argh, dammit," Reed shook his head, "this guy's good they weren't kidding about taking his work seriously."

"We can't even follow him," Murata tapped his foot, "i don't know where he went he just disappears."

"He knew about the surveillance, just ducked right into the crowd and into the blind spot."

"Sorry I couldn't help," the centipede tapped his own badge," I understand how it is, brothers."

"Right." The detectives shared a look as Murata nodded. "Thank you for your assitance, you have a good day."

They left the security office and headed out of the station, the taxi ranks lining up in the sun alongside the rickshaw beetles unfurled and taking a smoke break.

"Just so we're clear," asked Reed, "we're not gonna get a warrant to check all six-hundred lockers in this place?"

"If even that," the turtle snarled, "but no that'd be impossible, unless we know the specific number we're not getting anywhere, if that's the key he's talking about."

"I mean what else would it be?"

"Let's not jump to more conclusions, we've already got the two killers theory."

"You think it's even related to the Host?" Reed called for a taxi. "Don't get me wrong, I wanna know what this Kurasawa found as much as you, but the Host was our call."

"We found him in the same room as the Host's latest victim," Murata nodded, "as far as I know that makes it relevant, until proven otherwise, even if his death doesn't match the MO."

As they returned to Kaijurocho, they took a long circular stroll around the Millennium Tower with various small incidents. A few punks in a scuffle who gave up on seeing their badges, a girl who had gotten lost from her father and two drunkards being far too loud and reckless in the street with their dancing. None of these incidents would last more than a few minutes as Gaho kept thinking back to their case, until they heard a scream from down East Taihei Boulevard.

"A-AAAAGH, GET OFF, GET OFF!"

"What the?!"

Rushing over and down the street, they found a very distraught eagle in a suit crumpled against the side of an alley.

"Sir, are you alright?!"

"N-NOO?!" he squawked clutching his chest. "Some, some bastard just slapped me down an' ran off with my shoe!"

"Your...shoe?"

"YES, look!"

He pointed to his taloned feet, of which only one now had a business shoe with holes the front and back to let his claws extend.

"He just took off down that way, what the fuck's wrong with this place?!"

"Sir, please." Sauressy put up his hand. "Now just calm down, give us a good description of the suspect as best you can."

"I-it was a kappa, I'm sure of it!" the eagle stumbled back up with his claws scratching the gravel. "He had this raggy brown thing on like a pacamac and-OH, his beak was really dark, almost black!"

"Alright, anything else?"

"N-no?! I paid good money for my shoes I can't show up to work like this!"

"Just sit tight, we'll hunt him down."

Heading into the Champion District, the two officers stepped into the tiny maze of pokey little bars as the smell of alcohol wafted thick through the air. The stench of vodka, soju and whisky swirled above their heads and gave them a slight buzz as they searched all of the rat-runs that for Murata's large shell was a struggle to fit through, but Sauressy's slender serpentine torso helped him squeeze in between bikes and dumpsters.

"Lost sumthin'?" snickered a shaggy dog.

"Did you see a kappa run by here?" asked Murata. "Brown coat, black beak?"

"Why, he owe you some yen?"

"He's a thief sir, he accosted someone just now."

"Well he about to accost you next."

"Wha-GAAAH!"

"SURPRIIIIISE!"

Jumped on from behind, Murata fell forwards as a kappa launched off the side of the wall high above their heads, pouncing like a jungle cat and dodging Sauressy's swiping hands to kick the back of Reed's leg and yank at his foot.

"HAHAAA, TWO LEFT FEET FOR MEEEE!"

"//YOU LITTLE FUCK!//" the serpent snapped in English. "//GET THE FUCK OFF ME!//"

With a hard kick to the kappa's face he threw him off, but by then it was too late. His shoe had been taken, the creature scrabbling off into the dark as Murata pulled him up and they ran straight off down the twisting labyrinth of taverns. Drunkards staggered to the side as Sauressy limped in his run, one scaled foot and a pleather shoe pounding the asphalt as the serpent took one path and the turtle took another trying to box him in.

Dashing away, the thief dodged through the tiny streets, a door opening in front of his face as he wallkicked off the side and leapt on top of the door, grabbing a hanging sign and vaulting forwards into another alley just out of Reed's grasp. With a fiendish cackle the kappa rolled onto the ground and scarpered out of the district, reaching the exit as Murata came the other way to dive in a football tackle, the thief stopping short to jump on his head and run over his shell.

"SMELL YA LATER!"

"AAAGH, DAMMIT!"

Rolling onto his side Gaho grabbed the closest thing and hurled it at the criminal, a trashcan lid that went bouncing down the lane and slammed into the back of the kappa's elbow causing him to shriek and drop one of the shoes he took. He kept on running regardless, Sauressy catching up as they tried to keep chasing after into North Zennyo Avenue. But he was gone.

"Where...where is he?!"

"I don't know, he can't have gone far." Gaho pulled out his radio. "Central this is one-eight-three-two, signal thirty-eight at Champion District."

"Ten-four, description?"

"Kappa, brown coat, black beak, over and out."

They took a deep breath as Sauressy picked up the shoe. Much to his chagrin it was not his, as they walked back to the eagle at the other exit and handed it back.

"AAH, thank you so much!" he crowed slipping it back on his talons. "I really needed to make a good impression on the boss."

"Glad we could help," the serpent waved, "take care."

With a few looks coming their way, Sauressy hobbled his way back towards the city centre with only one shoe.

"I'll cover half the pay," said Murata.

"No no this was my fault," Reed stared down at his open claws, "this isn't a good look outside."

"You can go back to the station if you want, I can take the streets from here."

"You sure?"

"Yeah it's fine, go get a requisition form and we'll do more work on our cases."

"Alright, stay safe Murata."

Sauressy heading back to the police station, whilst the tortoise scanned the surrounding streets in a vague hope of catching the shoe thief. Wth no sign and even less of a lead, he headed down towards Pink Street with its multi-legged sign opening with lewd invitation at the end of the avenue. Guided towards Showa Street, he took a long circular path round the south and west of Kaijurocho, before he found himself at the glowing red gate opening at Tenkaiju Street.

Then he noticed an old sushi restaurant beside the gate, the smell of finely-chopped fish reminding him of something with a spark in his eyes as he wandered over to the traditional wooden door that he slid open. A few customers inside were enjoying some delectable cuts with various sauces as Gaho felt his stomach rumbling.

"Welcome sir!" A yellow cat bowed in a kimono at the register. "Would you like to be seated?"

"Yes please," he smiled letting her lead him to the counter, "I'll have some uramaki and...mmmm, some sashimi and soju."

"Very good sir, just one moment please."

He wasn't there for the sushi however, even though he was slightly peckish. He was here for the chef, whose tall thin head he briefly saw through the thickening steam of the kitchen in front of him.

"One uramaki, sashimi and soju!" the cat shouted.

"Ura sash soju," said the cook with a deep voice, "got it."

The sound of clattering plates filled the air along with the clacking of chopsticks and muffled mumblings from the customers. Murata smiled as passive as he could when the chef turned towards him with his three trays.

"Uramaki, sashimi an-...Murata-san."

"Durond-san," he put up his hand, "don't worry, nothing's wrong, just came here to eat."

"Hm. Your food, monsieur."

Amongst the staff Guy Durond stood out as the tallest beast in the kitchen, the shark daubed in a white apron with a tall chef's hat shaped like a bladed sheath. His head was slim with eyes perfectly on either side, crossing his stubby arms as he watched Murata take the first few bites of an inside-out roll of sushi where the rice had been wrapped round the fish itself.

"Mmmh!" the detective grinned. "Damn still good as ever, your uramaki's always the best."

"The rice is the secret," said Durond pinching his fingers, "a little special stock, some black pepper, facile."

"Not special Parisian stock?"

"I'm from Lorraine, batard, the only Parisienne in my food are their snouts stuffing in their bowls."

"Hahahaha," Gaho shook his head eating more, "how are you Durond-san?"

"Fine," he nodded smilling, "what do you want?"

"Why do you assume I'm here for something?"

"You only come when you want information."

"Am I that obvious?"

"You would lose the first round of poker."

"Least I wouldn't cut the table in half."

"They said to cut the cards," Durond shrugged with a puff of his lips, "what do you need?"

"Have you seen this kaiju?"

He offered the photo of the red-winged killer whose shovel-shaped head grinned with menacing aura.

"Kaneyama." The cook smiled back. "I remember this one."

"Really?" Murata blinked.

"Back in the day, we were two rival gangs, pushing drugs over on Zennyo. She thought she could get one-up on me. She gave me the finger when I told her to back off. I took her whole arm. Hm...hhhmhmhahahaha."

He started chuckling with a deep dark laugh until he caught Murata's snarl and shook his head.

"But yes, I know this bete noire, she still selling Trident on the streets?"

"Not exactly," the detective took the photo back, "have you seen her lately."

"No, we never kept in touch. Is she still my one-winged angel?"

"That's not relevant, and don't be creepy, you're running a business."

"I now own the business, detective. And if you do not like my words, you do not have to stay."

His smile was as sharp as the edge of the blade peeking under his hat, his forehead razor-thin as Murata finished his uramaki and took a drink of soju. The wheat-barley liquor was clear and not especially heavy, which suited Murata just fine as he started on the sashimi and Durond went back to chopping a monkey-headed fish using a smaller blade.

"This place is really good," Murata said, "you've done well for yourself, I'm glad you've taken your skills to be productive."

"The roof was a pain," said the chef cutting away, "had to raise it just to fit me."

"But look where you are, you've flourished, you turned this restaurant around, I remember it was going into redundancy before you took over."

"Because the chef was a tete-de-noeud, same sushi, day in day out, no variety, no flavour, rice is just rice, he forget the rice ALSO needs flavour!"

"That is true," Murata nodded, "it's amazing how many creatures forget that."

"Not me." He thunked the fish-ape's head clean off. "I am not a lavette, even in my old work, I made YOU work hard to catch me."

"Hahaha, you were an asshole to catch, had to piledrive you into the damn pavement, blade-first!"

"HM HM HM, aaaah, is the crack still there on Suppon Street?"

"Haven't checked. Anyways, Kaneyama, any idea where she'd go?"

"Hmmm," he scratched his bladed scalp, "there was this shithole at the end of Zennyo, far southeast."

"Where the officers are?" Gaho squinted.

"There is a basement area underneath, old electrical storage she took for herself, a hiding spot she always used."

"Really? Well, that helps a lot actually." He pushed off his seat after clearing his plate. "Thank you Durond-san."

"Hm hm hm," Guy looked back with a wry smirk, "try not to die before you retire."

"I won't, oh, one last thing...does the name Kama Kurasawa mean anything to you?"

"Nope."

"Alright, thank you again, see you around."

"Bonne chance!"

He waved off the turtle who headed back out onto the street and down towards Zennyo Avenue, a long eastern road where an insurance company now stood at its end. Rows of bikes filled one side of the street, parked and locked as he furrowed his brow and searched around for some underground entrance. The best he found was an old door behind an electrical generator, closed off normally by maintenance staff with a big sign taped over it saying DANGER, COLLAPSED AREA. But then he heard a voice drifting nearby.

"No YOU listen to me...no, you LISTEN to me."

"Hmm?"

Murata stepped round the generator to find a surprising visitor, a husky-looking frog with black hair wearing a brown duffel coat.

"YOU...listen to ME, or-...o-or else, ugh, dammit come ON!"

"Excuse me."

"A-AAAH!" she pulled back against the wall and pulled out a spray bottle. "DON'T TOUCH ME, I'M ARMED!"

"Hey-ey, woah calm down, it's fine I'm police."

"That doesn't reassure me!" she jabbed the defence spray towards him. "Stay where you are!"

"Alright." Murata kept his arms raised and stepped back. "I'm not here looking for anyone, it's okay."

"Why are you here then?!" the frog licked her wide lips.

"I was doing my patrol down this street and I heard someone shouting 'no you listen to me', so naturally I came to check if anyone was in danger."

"O-oh...right." Her hand wavered as her eyes looked away. "S-sorry, I...what's your badge number?"

"One-eight-three-six," he saluted, "Sgt. Detective Gaho Murata, is there something I can help you with?"

"I...no, it's fine, sorry," she put her spray can away into her coat and sighed, "it's really dumb and, I-i'm sure you got more important things to do."

"Nothing more important than someone needs help, I have time if you want to talk."

"Oh, seriously no it's really dumb I don't-"

"I won't know if it's dumb if I don't know what it is, ma'am." Gaho spread his arms with a smile. "How can I help?"

"Well...alright," the amphibian gulped with huge blinking eyes, "I'm...I'm starting a new job as a dominatrix, I wanted to change myself because I was sick of who I was."

"Really? What did you used to be?"

"A stagehand, I worked at the Kaijuro Theatre, but I was stuck for so long just waiting on everyone else, in the same place at the same pay, and two others get promoted above me because I couldn't talk myself up! I hated it, I felt I was withering, so I thought...well, take a leap, I wasn't making enough on it anyway so-"

"You decide to be a dominatrix?" Gaho crossed his arms. "That's a heck of a job switch."

"I thought I could be confident!" she cried. "I've watched actors for so long that I know how to be, I wanted to be one myself so I could be on the stage but I just...I don't know what's wrong with me."

"Do you get stage fright?"

"No it's not that, I don't get scared I just can't...make myself be louder, stronger, just MORE, you know?"

"Hmm." Murata rubbed his chin. "So the problem isn't your nerves, it's you lack authority."

"I...guess so?" she rubbed her bulbous cheek. "Wait, hold on, you're a cop aren't you, you know about authority."

"I would yes."

"Could you...oh gods this is so stupid to ask but, could you...teach me how to have authority?"

"Wait, pardon?" Gaho shook his head.

"You know how to command others and maintain order, that's your job, being a dominatrix isn't that different to being a cop!"

"I, well...I would think it's much different than that ma'am."

"But it's still about commanding authority, right?" she clutched her hands together. "Could you teach me how to have authority, please, officer?"

Murata stroked his neck feeling out of sorts, rocking his head back and forth briefly between two minds as he looked towards the abandoned door.

"Alright," he nodded, "I'll help you out. After all you're a citizen who needs some advice, I can't really say no to that, plus a dominatrix without authority is no good to anyone."

"Oh, thank you!"

She slipped off her coat and he suddenly backed up.

"Alright, so the first thing I wanna ask is-"

"Woah woah what the hell is this?!" he snapped.

"What? This is what I wear to work."

Under her jacket she wore a full dominatrix outfit of sleek fuchsia satin, crossing over her breasts and belly and thighs to leave only the hints of her green flesh that all could see but never touch.

"Did you really have to take the coat off?" Murata winced.

"I have to get into my role!" she cried. "Oh right, I'm Ms. Ribette by the way, that's my mistress name."

"Sounds very...French, I take it?"

"Yep, thought something foreign would add some mystique."

"I thought this was just going to be advice, not some weird roleplay."

"You said you were going to help!"

"I...did, yes." He rubbed his neck with a deep sigh. "Just, for the record, you're not going to make me do anything unprofessional yes?"

"Of course not!" said Ribbette clutching her chest. "Only if you were my customer, and even then there's rules!"

"Right, sorry I've never...this is my first time."

"Hmhmhmhm! Don't worry, I hear that a lot."

"I thought you just started?" he raised his brow.

"Yeah but, the place I'm working at I hear it often hahaha! Alright so, how do you get authority in your job, Murata-san?"

"Well," he tapped his chin trying not to look, "the first thing is about projecting your voice, you need to force it strong and imagine like you're just below shouting. Not actually shouting, because creatures react differently, but hitting under it, like THIS."

He jabbed his finger suddenly towards her with a start.

"Put your hands UP, and drop your weapon, NOW."

"H-hoh, jeez!" she blushed with a giggle. "Th-that, that sounds really good, they teach you that in police academy?"

"Yes," he nodded, "it's important to make those around you know immediately who's in charge, and having the right voice will make all the difference. You ever been on a plane Ribbette-san?"

"A few times yeah."

"You've heard the pilots talking to you, with a calm but stern voice to keep you relaxed when you go through turbulence."

"Oh, yeah, you're right they do have good voices for that!"

"So, do what I did," Murata crossed his arms, "order me like you're commanding someone to stop and get down."

"Alright, um..." Ribbette clapped her cheeks and cleared her throat, "you, get on the floor now."

"No no, no, you need to emphasise the action. GET down, on the floor, NOW."

"Get...down, on the floor, n-now."

"Better, better, push the verb harder."

"Get....you, get down on the floor, now," she started growling clenching her fists.

"That's it, you're getting there, keep trying."

"GET, on the floor, NOW, or ELSE!"

"There it is!" Gaho clapped with tusken grin. "That's the energy you want, but remember, don't be angry. You lose control of your emotions, it's easy for others to override you."

"R-really?" the frog suddenly balked. "But, how do I sound strong and not be angry?"

"That's how you build authority, restrain your emotion, make the other feel that you are above that, you won't be swayed by them, and that YOU command them."

"Right, so...I have to act like, I'm better than them?"

"Not better, think more...hmm, what's a good word?"

"Powerful?"

"Ehhh, don't like that," Gaho sneered, "think more...ah, you're stronger than them, but not because you have power, but because of who you are, as a creature."

"What do you mean?" Ribbette scratched her hair.

"When creatures see me in my uniform, they know the authority I wield. But you'll have criminals and upstarts who don't respect that, so I need to prove with my voice and my presence that I'm stronger than them, not because I have power, but because I am trained, I am in control of myself and the situation."

"Hmmmm...could we roleplay something, that might help?"

"I thought there wasn't going to be any."

"Yeah but, I can't figure this out unless I'm in a scene!" the toad fidgeted. "Just, let's go through this step by step."

"Alright, just...alright."

Murata clenched his eyes regretting this as she psyched herself and grew a severe look on her, hands on her hips as she stepped forwards.

"Well, nice to see you show up."

"Hmm. Was I late?" Murata smirked.

"Yes, Ms. Ribbette doesn't like to be kept waiting, you know what I do to lazy pets?"

"No...what?"

"Get on the floor, now," she walked closer, "before you find out."

"Hmph." He stepped closer in turn. "Maybe I should find out, ma'am."

"Oh, you want to be punished, you nasty little thing?"

"I can take anything you dish out...I didn't come to play around."

"Mmmm...oh you'll wish you never said that."

She suddenly grabbed him by the shoulder and it took all of his instincts not to immediately armlock her.

"GET. On the floor, now."

"Nnngh...or, wh-what?"

"Or else....I'll...c-carve my initials in your shell, so everyone will know you belong to me."

"I don't belong to anyone, not to you especially."

"Sorry, hold up," Ribbette stepped away to slip out of character, "could you...submit easier, for me, this is supposed to be helping."

"You want to learn authority?" he shrugged his arms wide. "You need to be able to break them mentally, I'm not going to be easy so remember what I said, be firm, be hard, but not angry."

"Right."

Stiffening herself back into her persona, she marched up to Murata again and gripped his shoulder once more.

"I don't take kindly to insolent little boys such as you."

"I'm not a boy, I'm an adult," he snarled.

"By the time I'm done with you, you'll be begging for mommy, and I won't stop until I'm finished with you."

"Yeah? How bad will you break me?"

"Hmhmhm...you'll be like gum under my heel."

She suddenly whipped out her tongue and it slipped behind to scrape up his shell, a cracking snap of the long tongue that made him flinch suddenly.

"I'll chew you up, spit you out, and if you talk back to me again my nasty little runt, I'll break your mind so hard you won't even put your clothes on again until I MAKE you."

"G-guh! No, a-alright, that'll do-"

"No." Her grip tightened. "GET, on the floor. NOW."

"U-ugh, a-aah, yes."

"Yes, WHAT?"

"Yes, m-ma'am!"

"That's MISS Ribbette you filthy little stain!"

The frog stepped back before Murata went down on his knees, causing a giddy squeal of delight from herself and a shudder from the detective as he stared at her feet.

"Wow that was GREAT, oh that felt so perfect was I good?!"

"Yes," he nodded with a grimace, "that was...very good, you uh...certainly got the authority right."

"You played a good customer, you were being so obnoxious but I just felt that push and then, well, I realised I could use my tongue like a whip!"

"That definitely helped, surprised me more than I want to admit."

"Heehee!" she bowed to him. "Thank you, Murata-san, I appreciate the roleplay-"

"Don't call it that, please, " he stood back up brushing his knees, "just gave you some advice, that was it."

"Alright," she put on her jacket with a grin, "I'm gonna get ready for my shift, thanks again!"

She left the small electrical yard with a skip to her beat, the cop shaking his head and slightly shuddering through his body.

"Can't believe she managed to psych me out...well, as long as she's confident now, glad I went on my own or else Sauressy would never let me hear the end of it. Now..."

He turned towards the taped-up door.

"Let's see what secrets you have, Kaneyama."

The door was locked until Murata pulled out a small hardened wire and carefully twisted it in the lock, the sound of clicking tumblers guiding him until the last thunk let the door open inwards. A dark room welcomed him as he turned on his flashlight and scanned the place, seeing old disused closets behind fences with most of their wires gutted. Old newspapers and pieces of cardboard littered the scene, the remains of the homeless that had once lived here before.

Gaho brought out his pistol, dampening bullets primed and ready as he stepped through the passage circling around the back of the transistors and seeing another door further down. A part of his mind chastised him for being unprofessional, that it was dangerous to go alone, one should never enter a suspect's lair without backup. But his jaw clenched, his feet went forth and he opened the door quietly as he could into the next area.

Deeper into the darkness he went, sneaking through the murk as he heard the sound of rumbling cars overhead. It was an oddly soothing sound as he closed his eyes briefly to savour the gasping winds, the howling shudder of the underground before he found a storage room. No one was inside, much to his relief and frustration as he scanned the room with his flashlight and gun.

It was definitely lived-in, a pile of mattresses in the corner, some old desks between lengths of copper wiring, long pipes stacked against the wall, storage cabinets for food and eeven an old fridge hooked up to a small generator. He checked through the drawers, finding nothing but old screws and nuts and bolts. One drawer however had something that caught his eye.

"What's this?"

He almost cursed himself for speaking, looking around for anyone nearby but seeing the place still empty. Inside the drawer was a business card for a local brothel that he took a picture with on his phone. It was a small tenuous lead, but a lead nonetheless as he made his way back out as carefully as he could with his squat body and thick shell through the doorframes.

The address was on Pink Street, naturally, as Murata quickly hurried down the boulevard where bosoms and bottoms were jauntily poking from every sign and billboard around him. Even in the early afternoon, Pink Street always looked ritzy and glitzy, attracting all creatures with the most base of desires as males, females and everyone between was catered to with scandalous insects, salacious reptiles and sultry mammals.

His uniform brought many looks, some of which were not kind but he made no comment as he found the club titled " EYE BEHOLD YOU" where, at the front of the door, stood a long tall-headed squid with piercing eyes and silver skin beneath a black suit, his head parting three ways like a flower almost in bloom.

"Excuse me," Murata approached, "I was wondering if you could help me."

"Depends on what you ask, officer," the squid said bowing his floppy head,, "how can I help?"

"Have you seen this kaiju at all the past few days?" he presented his phone showing Kaneyama's face.

"Hmmm no, sorry," the cephalopod shrugged his four arms, "though I'm only on duty for the daytime shows, I don't know if who you're looking for comes round at night."

"What time are your night shows?" Murata asked.

"Eight-pm, on the dot."

"Alright, thank you for the help."

"My pleasure," the barker grinned with a bow, "hope we see you soon."

As the detective walked away, the squid pulled out his phone and dialled once Murata was long out of earshot.

"It's me. He just arrived."

"Wha-reallyl?!" said a lady's voice. "I thought he was going to take longer!"

"You're not getting cold feet are you?"

"No, no...just, need to reshift my schedule. He coming tonight?"

"Sure is. Want me to set up a room?"

"Yeah, room sixty-nine, the usual place."

"Nice." The cephalopod pulled out a cigarette and lit it with two of his hands, "if you manage to pull this off, the boss'll let you out."

"Really?" the lady gasped. "You...you mean that, right?"

"Would I lie to you, Jun-chan?"

He waited for her to answer, knowing she desperately wanted to say something, but her fear silencing her as the squid nodded.

"You have your orders. Don't screw this up."

He clicked off the call and leaned back against the wall, taking a quick puff as he kept his eye out for actual customers in the long drawling afternoon.