FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Hannyakita Park was one of the most splendid and peaceful parts of Issincho, a sprawling flatland of grassy pockets in the far northeast where humble trees and several family entertainment centres stood, alongside the entrance to a cruise ship that dominated the sea. Arches of stone wreathed in ivy led up towards a go-karting area, whilst further east was a stage sculpted from rock to allow anyone to come up and act, with council city planning permission.

Sitting on the grass in the warm pleasant afternoon, Ganbe covered himself in a hoodie and put his back against a tree. Khoumad Maung sat nearby, wearing a prevention mask over his moustached fangs and four of his eyes, a ragged coat that hid his limbs from view, a blanket underneath and a cheap plastic cup to throw money into.

"How you know he's gonna show up?" muttered Ganbe.

"He's come here the past three days," said Maung rasping through an earpiece, "every day since he arrived, always at 3pm."

"I don't get why a sports journalist is here," Gen sighed rubbing his beak.

"We find out when we ask him."

The denizens of the park wandered back and forth, waving to each other as children ran through the grass with little larvae in prams, mothers and fathers cooing over their bairns whilst young adults rolled past with skateboards beneath a perfect sunny day. For a moment Gen almost forgot why he was here, smiling at the families and friends before he covered his head.

"You have a family?" Maung asked.

"Guh, n-no?!" Gen yipped. "Why you ask?"

"You looked sad, watching them."

"I...s-sorry, sir."

"For what?" Khoumad softened his voice. "It is fine to want a family."

"For some, yeah," the steel-beak sniffed, "so, what do we do when we see this guy?"

"Follow him out the park, track his route, we don't catch him today. We watch, we plan, then take him to the sewers."

"R-right, but, what if-"

"He's here. Coming from your right."

Turning his head Gen saw him enter the park, a praying mantis in his 40s wearing a long brown coat with hardened sleeves that covered his long sickle-shaped limbs that, if one pulled back his sleeves, would reveal the outside of his arms having a curved blade coming down to stop just behind the wrists.

Coming down the ramp from a footpath that stretched over the main road, his large golden eyes glimmered with compound hexagons that shone in the sun. He walked to each and every van that had parked on the seafront, mobile shops that were selling various wares as he bought himself an ice cream, a bouquet, and an old CD of some 80s band no one had heard of as he spent five minutes speaking with each and every seller.

"Guy's real loose with his money," said Gen, "loves to talk a lot too."

"For information," Khoumad muttered, "also so they remember him, look, that one lady is laughing."

"So if we snatch him now, they're gonna be witnesses?"

"Yes. That is why we wait."

Keeping their eyes on him without turning their heads, they tracked Kurasawa's path through the park as he enjoyed his ice cream, soft little mouth-pincers balling up wads of cream to scoop into his jaws. He walked in a long serpentine route as he wove through the gardens, taking his time with a casual stroll and spending an hour bantering with merchants before he took his leave back the way he came.

Khoumad motioned Ganbe to follow him, walking separately across the road to the Chinatown border in the south so they could keep Kurasawa in sight. The mantis headed west towards Djinnai Station whilst his pursuers followed from half-a-mile, the journalist walking past the local government building with its auspicious stone front of strong copper tones and high looming windows.

Kurasawa soon went south between other austere societal buildings, wealthy privileged institutions that Gen neither knew nor cared what purpose they had with red sandstone walls, luscious foliage and thick iron fences. They tracked the reporter to a small bar where a charming bee grinned from its sign, a fuzzy little critter taking a shot at an 8-ball across the table.

"You go in," said Maung through the earpiece.

"W-wait, seriously?" muttered Gen.

"It's fine, you'll blend in. I'll keep watch outside."

"Wh-what if he talks to me?"

"Then talk to him. You're just a local, play dumb."

"Heh...alright."

With a deep breath Ganbe walked inside the tavern, a cosy place with oaken walls and a long bar counter with a prestigious line of drinks from rum to whisky to sake. Plants decorated the corners to give a forest theme, whilst a set of dartboards and a pool table sat at the back.

"Welcome sir!" a tall wasp bartender bowed to Ganbe. "What can I get you?"

"Uhh, just some sake," Gen sat up at the bar pulling down his hood, "I'll take that green bottle."

"Alrighty, coming up."

She quickly grabbed the bottle and did a cool flip, rolling the large rectangle across one of four arms to glide it to the second, then the third and the fourth like a barrel down the stairs, before she capped it open into a glass and served Ganbe with it.

"Woah," Ganbe chuckled, "that was pretty sick!"

"Heheh, first time here?"

"Uhh, y-yeah, friend of mine comes here and always recommended it to me, I'm actually meeting him here."

"Oh that's good," the wasp nodded, "you want me to reserve a drink?"

"Nah it's fine, thanks."

Taking a step back the bartender waited patiently for her customers as they drank in silence, Gen looking over briefly to see the mantis drinking a shot of rum whilst soft jazz played over the air. Ganbe tried not to look suspicious by occasionally checking his phone and randomly typing messages to no one. Then he was suddenly startled by the phone ringing in his hand, causing Kurasawa to look at him as Gen fumbled grabbing it like a bar of soap.

"GUH, a-ah, th-thaaaat's my friend haha!" he quickly picked up the call. "Heheeey buddy."

"Gen-chan!" Meiji's voice rang through. "You're not gonna believe this, I'm at the library, and someone already wrote in ALL the books!"

"Are you...are you serious right now?"

"YEAH, it's weird, like every book, couldn't find a blank one anywhere!"

"You...you just get paper, Mei-chan you," he turned away from the journalist and lowered his voice, "you write on the fucking paper."

"Nooo you write in a book Gen-chan."

"The book is made from paper!" he snarled.

"But they didn't HAVE any books to write in!"

"You get the paper from a store, to make into a book, this is not the time!"

"Hey YOU said you write books at the library, where am I gonna find books to write in?!"

"Awww damn that sucks," Ganbe spoke louder forcing a grin through his beak, "alright hey I'll keep your drink warm in case things clear up, but, if I don't hear back in thirty minutes, you wanna go the usual?"

"Wait, what?"

"I'll see you when I'm done with WORK, okay? Llllater."

Clicking the phone off he groaned rubbing his head. The wasp tried not to giggle as he smiled bashfully.

"If you wanna pass the time I can help."

Gen suddenly turned to the journalist who spoke up.

"I know how much it sucks waiting on a friend," said Kurasawa, "I need to pass time too so, you wanna play some pool?"

"Uhhh...sure." The undercover thug nodded. "I never played it before."

"Really?" the mantis stood up. "How about I show you?"

Stepping over to the pool table, Kurasawa racked the balls into a triangle as Ganbe grabbed one of the cue sticks.

"Alright," said the journalist, "you have to knock the balls into the holes in order from one to eight. If you miss your shot, or you pot one in the wrong order, then it's my turn."

"So we just go back and forth?" Gen asked.

"Yeah, this is a little different than usual but, it's good for newcomers so, you go first."

Placing the white cue ball on the line to face towards the set of 8 balls, Kama stepped back and watched Ganbe take his first shot towards them with gleaming red eye focusing deep to line up his cue stick. The triangle of orbs exploded, shooting balls across the table, but none of them went into pockets as Kurasawa took his turn.

"You live round here?" asked the mantis.

"Uhh, yeah," Gen nodded, "do you?"

"Nope," Kama's scythe-hand grazed along the stick, "just visiting for work."

"Oh, cool cool what you do?"

"I'm a sports journalist." He shot towards the 1 ball as it rebounded near the corner. "You a fan of Issincho FC?"

"Hah, nah," Ganbe took his turn, "not sure why you'd come out here, there's fuck all to do with sports."

"Well the boss says I have to write about them so, not my choice."

"They any good this Issincho FC?" Ganbe leaned over the table.

"Surprisingly yeah!" Kurasawa tapped his stick. "They've been making waves in the local leagues, got a new coach who's brought new life to the team."

"Huh, cool," the bird clacked the 1 ball into the pocket, "oh shit I got one!"

"Heheyyy nice work!" the mantis patted him. "Alright just play on."

"So that's all you doing here?" asked Gen aiming for the second ball. "Some little-ass soccer group?"

"You say little," Kama waved his finger, "but they scored an incredible game last week, surprised you haven't heard of it!"

"I watch baseball myself," the avian shot the 2 ball and missed the corner, "shit, dammit."

"My turn," the mantis stepped up, "which team you support in baseball?"

"Uhh, Nagoya Wyverns."

"Ooof, damn, my sympathies, they had a rough season huh?"

"Yeaah Ushimura broke like two of his legs so they're kinda fucked."

"Yeah pretty much."

Kama leaned over the table to reach the cue ball near the centre, lifting his sleeves so his scythe-arms would not scrape the table. He shot the 2 ball with a daring deflection, side-shooting it into the pocket as Gen blinked agasp.

"Woah, dude that was nice."

"Heh, thanks." The mantis walked round to the other side. "Don't worry I'm not gonna ruin you, I actually don't play a lot of pool, last time was with work colleagues."

"So, why'd you take up sports reporting?" Ganbe asked leaning back against the wall.

"I used to memorise the leagues as a kid, even collected the sticker albums, you ever done that?"

"Hahah, nah, but I seen them back in high school."

"I loved them," Kurasawa bent over the table, "every day I went out with my pocket money, grabbed a few packs, went home and hoped I got a new player."

"That just sounds like gambling don't it?" Gen sneered.

"Yeaaah but...yeah, I guess."

"S-sorry, I didn't mean it like that, it sounds pretty fun."

"Hahah, it's all good, my son enjoys them too."

"Your...you got a son?"

"Yeah, he's a huge soccer fan thanks to me," he thunked the ball against the corner and missed, "posters all over the wall, got the biggest scrapbook of every soccer player in the world or at least trying to."

"Hah, awww that...th-that's cute." Gen tightened his throat. "I-i bet he must miss you on these jobs huh?"

"Yeaaah I don't get much time to spend with him but when I do, we're always playing soccer. I take him to games sometimes for my job if they're local, or just play down the park, your turn by the way uh...I didn't catch your name."

"UH, G-gen," Ganbe blinked with gentle gulp, "Genjiii...Garien."

"Heh, Kama Kurasawa," he offered his long blade-like hand, "nice to meetcha, Garien-san."

"Same...Kurasawa-san."

Taking a deep breath Ganbe shook his hand, the mantis smiling with his large yellow eyes as the avian smiled fretfully, struggling not to visualise his fate or the things he would have to do as he went back to the pool game and missed the 3 ball again. Kurasawa would pot it, but slipped on the fourth as Ganbe would get a lucky shot to sink it in the hole, the two players going back and forth trading shots before finally, the 8 ball lied in wait for its captor.

"So you're not a gambling fan I take it?" asked Kurasawa lining up his shot.

"N-nah," said Ganbe rubbing his cue stick, "I work in a pachinko parlour so I'm, kinda sick of it."

"Aaah, well why don't you quit?"

"I can't, I'm stuck there with no other jobs, Issincho kinda sucks if you're not rich."

"Damn, sorry to hear." The mantis shot forth to hit the 8 ball as it bounced off the corner. "Awww dammit, your turn."

"Alright."

The bird pressed close to the table feeling his belly spikes scrape on the wood.

"So is living in Issincho bad?" asked Kurasawa.

"Yeah basically," Gen squinted his eye leaning forwards.

"What about the docks, surely there's good stuff out there."

"I guess there is, like a lotta companies down there."

"Like Crown Industries?"

Ganbe suddenly fell on the table with a start, shooting his pool cue hard to scrape along the top and completely miss the 8 ball that rolled slightly to one side.

"You alright?!" Kama rushed to his side and pulled him up.

"Y-y-yeah, yeah s-sorry I uh," Gen whimpered standing up, "I slipped."

"Hey don't sweat it, I'll let you try again, that don't count."

"But I, I hit the ball-"

"Naaah if you don't hit it with the stick it don't count, go on, take another shot."

"A-alright...thanks."

Taking his second shot Ganbe focused on the ball best he could. But then his arm started to shiver, the pool cue twitching as he took another deep breath to try and calm his nerves when he took the shot. The ball thunked in the pocket, down to the depths of the table as he giggled slightly agasp.

"WOW, nice work!" Kama clapped with applause. "First time playing pool and you nailed it!"

"I-i mean, well," Gen rubbed his arm, "i-it was kinda luck."

"Still pretty good for first time! Hey how about a victory drink, barkeep two rums over here!"

"OH, no no dude it's fine-"

"Nah, come on let's celebrate!" Kurasawa wrapped his arm round him. "First victory calls for a drink, that's how it goes, right barkeep?!"

"Sure is!" the wasp grinned twirling a bottle between her hands. "I say you earned it, for a first-timer."

"There see, you're outnumbered Garien-san."

"Well...a-alright, sure." Ganbe smiled bashfully as they walked to the bar. "I don't think I ever had rum before."

"Oh it's good shit," the mantis sat down with him, "especially American rum, they make it the best."

"I disagree," the hornet stroked her chin, "but I'm not gonna stop serving you it."

"Hahaha hey, I write sports, not alcohol so I'm sure you've already got me beat."

"Well I'm not a journalist, but I could make a column on each of these bottles."

"Can you spin a story as good as you spin those bottles?" Kurasawa winked.

"I've heard plenty of them round here that's for sure!"

Ganbe said nothing as the two kept talking, nursing his rum and tasting the strong bitterness with a soft honeyed centre that warmed his throat. Guilt started to eat at his heart, burning with a rancid sour in the pit of his stomach to the point that he almost threw up. Five minutes after a long conversation between the mantis and the wasp, the reporter took his leave and headed to the door.

"Alright, I'm off, thanks for the drinks and thanks for the game Garien-san!"

"It, n-no prob," Gen waved at him sheepish, "thanks for the drink, Kurasawa."

"Oh uh, I forgot to ask, since you're local, what you know about Crown Industries?"

"Wh-why?! Uhh, why you wanna know?"

"I was actually looking for a friend who works there so maybe I could see him, but I can't find the address-"

"Really?" Gen shifted off his seat. "Well, sorry I uh, I don't really know the docks well."

"Ahh it's cool," the mantis waved, "see you around Garien-san, take care."

"Later!"

The reporter left as Gen waited a little while, finishing his drink and debating whether he should follow him or not, until he heard Maung in his earpiece.

"Are you alright?"

"Iiiis it...safe out there?" Ganbe asked.

"What you mean?" the bartender scoffed cleaning the glasses.

"Oh, just I heard it was gonna rain today."

"Not that I know of."

"Mmm, lemme text my friend in case, so I don't get CAUGHT in it."

"Understood," Maung said in his ear, "you learn fast, I'm following him now, you can leave when you're ready."

"Alright," Gen looked at his phone then stood up with a stretch, "sorry, my pal's not coming."

"Are they alright?" the wasp leaned on the bar.

"Yeah, he left a text, said he got pulled in at work for extra shifts."

"Ugh that sucks, sorry to hear."

"Ehh, it's fine," he shrugged, "just one of those days right? Thanks again for the drink."

"No problem, take care!" she waved him off.

Taking his leave, Gen bade farewell to the bartender and checked for Khoumad's location, checking on his earpiece as Maung guided him along to West Djinnai Station, a golf centre being the only real attraction along the western riverbank, a large splendid silhouette of a reptile swinging a club. The sounds of the rumbling trains burned overhead from the elevated tracks as Ganbe soon caught up with Khoumad in following Kurasawa.

They kept their distance as Kama travelled south along the road, passing Ameritown and soon reaching the Commercial District that spanned across the southern side of Issincho. Despite its name it was nowhere near as prominent as Iyazaki Road was in its commerce, as most of the shops were run down, sordid or just generally cheap with pawn shops, phone repairs, and even a few sex shops closer to the Red Light District over southeast.

For the most part the mantis never stayed too long in any store, asking basic questions and sometimes buying a small trinket with a receipt. Eventually he stopped at a motel adjacent from the corner of the Hello Work job employment centre, a large square building where a cheerisome bug gave a thumbs up from its logo in lime green.

"So that's his place?" Gen asked lurking at the corner.

"For now," said the spider through his mask, "I'll make a note, but he will probably move tomorrow."

"He asked me about Crown Industries."

"Did you tell him anything?"

"No, never."

"Good." The arachnid pulled him back. "Are you hungry, Ganbe-san?"

"Uh...k-kinda?" Gen rubbed his belly spikes.

"I know a good place, come."

Following behind, Ganbe was led to the Bar District to a place surprisingly close to his home, a small pokey tavern simply named "the Harbour Light" with a nautical theme, from the steering wheel on the wall to the various models of ships on the windowsill. An old kappa with sagging eyes and pale grey hair sat behind it, wrapped in a blanket as Khoumad closed the door behind, took off his mask and gestured something with his hands.

"Weird," Gen sat himself down, "I live right down the street and I've never been in here."

"Best beef curry in the city," said Maung sitting beside, "Kappamura's potato wedges are perfect."

"Potatoes in...curry?"

The old kappa brought forth two bowls each, one full of curry and the other stocked with wedges as Gen took one for a gentle dip. Much to his surprise it was delicious, the soft crunch of starchy potato blending well with the exceptional spices dripping through the curry.

"M-mmmmh, MMMMHH!"

"Hahah, good yes?" said Maung.

"Shiiit this is-MMMH, hoh jeez this is incredible!"

"I told you, best curry in the city."

The spider gestured for a drink as the owner gave them two glasses, pouring out some kyogetsu shochu that tasted like alcohol-flavoured water, brisk and airy with a fruity taste glancing across their tongues like a cold autumn breeze. It helped Ganbe relax immensely, sighing with a warmth in his heart and a cooling to his head as they enjoyed the meal in silence. The sounds of the rumbling traffic and the call of the ships drifted from beyond as Gen closed his eye. But then he remembered Kurasawa, and his fingers clenched against the bowl.

"I know you do not want to do this, Ganbe."

Khoumad looked to him with half his eyes.

"I can only promise you, that he will die quick and painless."

"Sh-shit!" he sputtered looking to the kappa. "M-maung-san w-we can't talk here she-"

"Is deaf." He nodded to her. "She cannot lipread, never learned, can only sign."

"Oh...s-so you can just...talk about murder right here huh?"

"Correct." The arachnid turned to him fully. "Do you like hurting other people?"

Gen did not know how to respond. At first he struggled to speak, his tongue flopping useless in his beak as he searched through his heart trying to find the correct answer. But then came a struggle, of reticence that made him falter as his hands shook again.

"I used to." He stared at his bowl. "I mean...I was a punk, before Gihei took me in I was always fighting, out on the streets I used to lash out at everything."

"Why?" asked Khoumad.

"Because...I dunno, because I wanted to feel something? Because I was sick of feeling weak, because I, I, was fucking sick of my family being such living trash I threw my hands at others that I could actually fight?!"

"You dropped out of high school yes?"

"How do you know?"

"I hear things," the tarantula nodded, "nothing terrible, just things around me. Do your family know where you are?"

"No." Gen rubbed his arms. "Last thing my parents heard about me was that fight in high school...broke the headmaster's arm, got on a bus and just...fucking left, ran as far away as I could before I ended up in Issincho."

"Do you regret it?"

"No. I don't regret running away...but I regret meeting Gihei."

"Everyone does," said Maung patting his shoulder, "Gihei took you in because he can control you, put you on a leash."

"I hate it. I fucking hate it, like I can fight yeah, I don't mind a beatdown every once in a while, yanno, get the blood pumping but...I was talking with Kurasawa, he bought me a drink, he taught me to play pool, I don't wanna kill him Maung-san!"

"Why not?"

"Cuz he's just some GUY!" Ganbe slammed his fist. "So what if he's snooping around can't we just break his leg or something, put him in a hospital, at least he can go see his kid-"

"No."

"But, what if-"

"No."

The hand on Gen's shoulder tightened as Khoumad paralysed him with all eight of his eyes.

"It is not our place to decide who lives and dies. We are Gihei's servants, and he holds our leash, and if we so defy him...you will wish you had killed instead of refused."

"Wh-what about you?" Gen whimpered craning his neck. "Y-you, you get to go anywhere, you're used to killing!"

"I am. But my leash is longer than yours."

"Wait, what?"

Khoumad let go of him and sighed towards the window. He said nothing, staring at the sky as Ganbe shook through his body with his face in his hands.

"You have a weapon yes?" Khoumad said two minutes later. "Keep it with you, starting tomorrow."

"Oh gods," he clutched his stomach, "I-i, I don't wanna do this-"

"I know," the spider went back to eating his curry, "I will make it easier for you, Ganbe-san."

"H-how?"

"Bring your weapon tomorrow, I will meet you here at noon."

They ate their food in silence, washing down the curry with shochu before they took their leave and thanked the old kappa, Khoumad paying for the meal as they parted separate ways and Gen called Garonba to come back to the apartment. Gen went inside to rest, the beetle returning five minutes after, kicking the door open with a shopping bag.

"EYY dude!" he lumbered through. "I found a book! They got this place called a stay-shunnery, you can just buy blank books, and pens, and pencils it's crazy, I-...uh...Gen-chan?"

Gen was lying on the bed, stone-faced and staring at the ceiling like a corpse awaiting his funeral. He felt Meiji's body beside him as the beetle put down his bag, and laid down next to him.

"You wanna talk about it-"

"No."

"Kay. You wanna hug?"

Gen nodded quietly as Meiji pulled him close, fondling his chest and sliding his arm underneath Ganbe's body to embrace him more fully. Nothing was said, no tears, no snarls or screams which Garonba would have preferred to hear but Ganbe kept silent, turning towards him and burying his beak into his chest.

"I'm gonna need my sickles tomorrow," he muttered.

"Alright," Meiji kissed his head, "wanna stay here until then?"

"Yeah...I don't...I don't wanna go outside Mei-chan."

"I know dude. I'll stay as long as ya need me...but I did forget to get cereal."

"Pfft, c-come on dude," Gen snickered.

"What, I gotta figure out that maze Gen-chan it's messing with my head-WAIT!"

He pulled back to stare into Gen's eye.

"...I just got a buncha pens an' pencils an' erasers an' shit...you think I could just totally rub out the lines I drew on the maze?"

"Wha-...yes?" the avian blinked.

"It's not illegal right, like the cereal cops aren't gonna come down on me for it?"

"Wha-Meiji we're LITERALLY fucking yakuza, all the shit we do is illegal!"

"I-i know but, I don't wanna be arrested for breakfast crimes, if I go to prison everyone's gonna laugh at me!"

"For fu-uck's sake KHHHahahaha g-gods DAMMIT Mei-chan!"

Ganbe started laughing, struggling to understand but at the same time relieved that he could laugh as he hugged Meiji tight, the beetle rubbing his neck with a blush before he hugged him back with a smooch. They sat up together on their bed and watched TV the rest of the night, Meiji setting down o work on the maze and after two further tries, he managed to reach the end successfully.

They ordered a takeaway to celebrate as they watched a sci-fi movi,e of daring knights with swords made of pure light, the son and daughter of a cruel emperor racing across the blighted dunes of a deserted land to right the wrongs of their family's legacy. Gen tried to keep his eye open whilst his friend kept asking questions about how a sword made of beams would work, and why it could "clash" like steel when light wasn't solid before he went on a tangent about the idea of some giant perspex-glass tube to make into a sword that would glow very bright from within.

Eventually Ganbe would fall asleep, exhausted from the stress as Garonba cuddled him close, and kept talking to himself hoping that his train of inanity would rumble on through Gen's mind in some assurance of company. The sky turned darker outside their window, gentle colours of rose drifting across the walls that soon turned to the white glimmer of the moon.

At one point Gen woke up briefly to fill his stomach for a midnight snack, his body following his brain in wanting to not be anything for a good 24 hours at least. But sadly he would only get half of that despite Garonba's best efforts to distract him with his tangents, the horned beetle writing in his book some ideas for a potential story until he fell asleep with his head in the pages.

Gen laid on top of him for comfort, the rumbling heave of his friend's snoring helping to soothe his brain until morning broke. The light of the sun crept over their window and gleamed upon Gen's face, his shining beak of silver and its mandibles twitching with a groan as he rolled over to grab for Meiji. He suddenly shot up, seeing Garonba was missing and in his place was a card in his bad grade-school handwriting.

Hey dude, sorry to leave ya for a bit, but I really needed to get cereal. Also got called at HQ for stuff, I'll be at the Forge around 11. Meiji.

Ganbe sighed with a sudden emptiness, sitting himself up and deciding to watch TV for the next three hours to try and kill his brain a little harder. Droning daytime television was a panacea for his fears, folks debating about which chocolate was the best-tasting, charming stories about young kids cleaning up their local areas, and a gaming marathon that was raising money for charity. Soft, saccharine numbness that made him smile as time drifted through his space, barely breathing until his stomach begged for food.

He grabbed a cheap bento box that Meiji had bought yesterday and scarfed it down, staring outside to the small park of the large lonesome tree before he saw the clock hitting towards 11:30. As if that wasn't enough to force him out of bed, his phone beeped shrill at him with the name "MEI-CHAN" on its screen.

"Morning!" Garonba cried. "You up dude?"

"Yeah just about to leave," said Gen finishing the last of his bento, "you doing alright?"

"Yeah, sorry I couldn't get back in time with cereal."

"It's fine dude, we'll just eat it later."

"What, no, you can't eat cereal after noon!"

"Uh, why?" Gen smirked.

"Just....I-i dunno, I'm pretty sure it's illegal!"

"Oh no," he rolled his eye, "the yakuza's done something illegal, shocking, you hate to see it, anyways I'm coming down to the Forge after I meet with Maung-san."

"Oh shit, is he there?" Garonba whispered.

"Nah, I'm meeting him outside, talk to you later."

Putting on his clothes Gen headed out towards the Harbor Light, still surprised at how close it was to his apartment. He watched and waited, waving to the old kappa inside who nodded sweetly as the roaring of cars and rickshaws raced on down the major road just north of him. The moment he heard 12 o'clock ring from the station, he heard the voice of Khoumad lurking beside him.

"Good afternoon."

"OH, sh-shit!" he flinched stumbling back from the long-coated spider. "Wh-why do you gotta sneak up like that?!"

"Sorry," he bowed with a smile, "it is a habit of mine."

"Well, I gotta pick up my weapons from my handler," Gen pointed south, "he keeps them over at the Forge."

"Good," Khoumad started walking east, "we pick up mine on the way."

"Oh, kay?" the avian followed.

"Did you sleep well?"

"Ehh, better than usual."

"Good. Don't worry, we're not killing today."

"Oh, hah, that's good."

"Have you ever killed before?"

"I...yeah."

He turned quiet looking down at his bare feet, the long silver claws scraping the gravel as they entered the depths of Ameritown. Loud English banners screamed at them with exciting offers beneath flags of red, white and blue fluttering in the breeze. The smell of hotdogs, grits, cornbread, hamburgers and hush puppies sizzled away in various American diners, ranging in their aesthetic from the New York style, to the more traditional Native American.

Walking towards a street corner, Khoumad met with a Jersey devil, a tall black deer with long-reaching wings, gangly legs like a kangaroo and demonic eyes of red. Standing at a very unassuming stall that had no banner or display, a damp-looking store was behind him with a broken shutter and various machines that Gen recognised for smithing.

"//Eyyy, there's my dude.//"

The stag waved to the spider and spoke English with a rough New Jersey accent.

"//Howsit going Maung, need more blades?//"

"//Yes,//" Khoumad replied in English, "//I need to replace two, four, seven and nine.//"

"//No prob, see you got a friend with ya, he want anything?//"

"Do you want some food?" Maung turned back to Gen in Japanese.

"Uhh, I already ate," the birdrubbed his neck, "but, maybe some kinda stew?"

"//Stew please,//" the arachnid replied.

"//Alrighty, lemme see yer knives.//"

Khoumad opened his coat and reached four of his arms inside, pulling out four different blades such as a paring knife, a cleaver, a machete and a skinning knife that he handed to the deer. The Jersey monster put them inside the store, and started to cook something at another counter.

"Holy shit," Gen gulped, "why do you got so many knives?"

"Different tools for different needs," said Maung tapping his head, "some knives can skin, some can chop."

"Jeez...I mean that makes sense but it's kinda fucked up, also wait you know English?"

"A little," the spider nodded, "DeVille-san taught me, we went to cooking class together."

"Wait, this dude's a chef?!" Ganbe shook his head. "You get your weapons from a chef?"

"Correct, and he gives me advice for when I work in the Jinuchu kitchen."

"Wh-what?!" Gen freaked with a shiver. "You-...you work in the clan kitchens?!"

"Yes," the spider bowed, "you are the first one to know, your favourite was my potato croquettes."

"Ohhhh f-fuck you made those?! Aww shit they're so creamy on the inside damn I missed those when working in the parlor!"

"Thank you. I am glad you enjoyed them, my aahpaw."

"You uh...you don't use your killing knives in the kitchen right?"

"No...except when Ganimura is in."

The spider grinned with widened fangs causing Gen to reel back with a cringe.

"That was a joke, even if I hate Ganimura."

"Hah, I-i mean who doesn't, he's a fucking prick!" Gen laughed a little too hard. "But uh, that's...pretty cool I mean seriously I loved your croquettes."

"I will make you them tonight, after our training if you wish."

"Wait, what?"

"//Soup's on!//" the Jersey devil loomed over them with a bowl. "//Eat up pal, it's on me.//"

"//UH, th-thank...you!//"

Gen sputtered with what little English he knew as he took his first taste. Rich creamy tomato soup with black bean and sausage made him shiver with warmth and spoon it down faster, whilst Maung watched DeVille working away in the shop, scraping the knives and sharpening them if he could. Others he would toss away as too blunt or worn to save, and replaced them with a suitable model. Half an hour would pass before he walked out with four fresh new blades, sharp and glinting in the afternoon.

"//There ya goes,//" the dealer snorted, "//I gots a new lathing technique, I think you'll really like it.//"

"//Ohh?//" the spider grinned pulling out his wallet. "//Which blade did you improve?//"

"//Number four, I figured out the weight distribution so you got a real nice CHOP to it!//"

The Jersey deer slammed his fist on the counter with a dark grin before taking Khoumad's money and continued.

"//I tried it on a few others, took the arms right off their joints, single cut through the bone, no problem.//"

"//Hmhmhm, very good,//" said Maung bowing, "//thank you Deville, I'll see you again.//"

"Mmmmph!" Ganbe gave back the bowl. "//Thank you! That, was good!//"

"//Glad ya like it, homeboy,//" the deer grinned waving them off, "//stay safe out there, alright?//"

The kaiju headed south towards the Commercial District, passing the pawn shops and walking beyond the Hello Work building to a garage on its lonesome, a large shuttered door with a charming kappa on the front holding a wrench with a smile. Inside they would find the Forge, an old blacksmith that used modern tech to refine, sharpen and rebalance all sorts of industrial tools.

The place was cluttered with bent metal poles and twisted swords, broken shafts and wounded spears with buckets and cones and a few bicycles here and there as Gen stepped forwards between the benches and lathes, a giant furnace burning to give a toasty atmosphere.

"GEN-CHAN?!" a voice cried from the back. "THAT YOU?!"

"YEAH!" the bird called back. "SORRY I WAS LATE, I UH...I GOT MAUNG-SAN WITH ME!"

"OH, SHIT ALRIGHT I'M COMING-WHU-AAAGH AAARGH!"

The sound of a plastic avalanche came tumbling out of the back office as Meiji staggered towards them, two traffic cones on his feet causing him to tiptoe like the world's shittiest stilt-walker as he started galloping in a full run to try not to fall. Gen hurried to his side and grabbed Meiji by the arm to help him rebalance.

"W-WHU-WOAH, WOAAAH!"

"Sh-SHIT!" Ganbe kicked one of the cones off his friend's foot. "You alright?!"

"Y-yeah, HOO!" Meiji grasped him. "Sorry I was uh, trying some fancy footwork."

"What kind?" Khoumad asked stepping forth.

"UH, h-hey there Maung-san, uhhh...need any help?"

"No, I am with Ganbe today, what footwork were you doing?"

"I was...t-trying to see if I could do sweet kicks with the traffic cones."

"What like, in the air?" Gen squinted.

"No like, hold up."

Garonba pushed himself back and hobbled with the other cone, almost like a pirate with a peg-leg as he put himself in a fighting stance and did a few quick punches before he swung out his coneless foot, using the traffic cone like a pivot to spin on and make a savage turning kick as Ganbe snickered.

"Fuckin' serious dude?!"

"What, it's good!" the beetle cried stopping his spin. "Cone's real good to spin on, we were talking about how good a shape it was!"

"Yeah until you fall over like a dumbass."

"Only cuz I tried to wear two of 'em!"

"I agree," said Maung crossing six arms, "the pivot is good, but you need one foot to be your base."

"See he gets it!"

"Ugh Mei-chan come on," Gen shook his head, "just get me my sickles."

"Why rush?" said the tarantula scritching his moustache. "This is a day to practice, to relax."

"Is it? Cuz I sure don't feel like relaxed."

"It feels like a Thursday to me," said Garonba kicking the cone off, "which is weird cuz it's a Tuesday, you ever get days like that?"

"Yeah, a lot nowadays."

"Lemme go grab your sickles."

"Where did you even get these?" asked Gen picking up the cone.

"It was lying in the street!" said the beetle walking to the office.

"WHA-d-dude! You don't take them off the fucking street!"

"What, why?!"

"Creatures are using it, was it next to some roadworks?!"

"Yeah, how'd you know?!"

"YOU DON'T TAKE CONES OFF THE STREET, THAT'S STEALING!"

"But they just LEFT them on the street, like sixteen of 'em so I took half!"

"THAT'S STILL STEALING!" shouted the avian stomping his foot.

"Didn't you say we're yakuza?!" Meiji opened the door to his office. "If you don't care about breakfast crimes why you care about a few cones?"

"BREAKFAST CRIMES AREN'T REAL YOU DIPSHIT!"

"Breakfast crimes?" Maung muttered plucking his stache.

The sound of rummaging continued in the back as Khoumad stared around him at the various tools and broken weapons. He grabbed a sword that resembled a corkscrew, squinting at the intentional curling of the blade as he rubbed his hand along the top of its edge.

"Heeere ya go." Meiji stepped out the office. "Don't mind the juice stains on 'em, I was popping bottles open with it."

"Why the fuck would you do that?!" Gen threw up his hands.

"I forgot my bottle opener jeez, I'll clean it if you want-"

"Just...give it."

In the beetle's hands was a small pleather satchel, inside which were a pair of small sickle-blades with jagged teeth on the curved interior of the blade, both of them attached by a long chain as Ganbe stepped back for a little practice. Swinging one scythe out, he gripped it fast to make the other spin, whirling them like nunchuks to form a brief infinity symbol as he swapped them behind his arms, then back in front a few times as the rattling of chains filled the room.

"Feel good?" asked the beetle.

"Yeah," Gen grinned stopping his swing, "feels like it always has been."

"Did you do this?" Khoumad asked holding up the twisted sword.

"Oh yeah, I sure did!" Meiji grinned.

"Why would you do this to such a blade?"

"So I had this idea that, you know drills and how they can just burrow through solid rock? What if you did that with a sword and then really twist it in some dude?!"

"That would not work, unless you spin it very fast."

"So like, I should put a motor on it?"

"No," Maung shook his head rubbing the blade, "a blade is only as good as the wielder, also it's fixed to the hilt, you cannot spin it fast enough to drill."

"Damn, I knew I was forgetting something," Garonba tapped his foot, "wanted to make some cool stuff like they do in manga."

"You do not need a fancy blade."

Khoumad pulled out a long pale dagger with a curved edge going outwards.

"Your blade need only be sharp."

"U-uhhh, right," Gen put his sickles back in his satchel, "well it's been cool so we better go what we gotta do-"

"YOOOOOOOO!"

Meiji rushed up to Khoumad gasping at the blade.

"That shit magnesium?! DAMN the sheen looks good!"

"Haha, no," the spider shook his head, "it is very light, you want to hold it?"

"S-sure, can I?!"

The arachnid let Meiji wield it much to Gen's shock, the steel-beak watching his friend swish the knife about with a few jabs and cuts in the air.

"Shiiiiit this feels like I'm holding a paper fan!"

"My special blade," Khoumad nodded, "unbreakable too, at least by normal means."

"Whatsit made of, like, titanium?" the beetle rubbed pushing the flat of the blade. "Can't be aluminum it feels too strong."

"Think lighter. Think...airplanes."

"Airplanes...what kinda thing would be this light bu-HHHHH! Yoooo is this microlattice?!"

"Correct," Maung clapped four of his hands, "very good Garonba-san."

"How'd you get a cool knife made outta microlattice, that shit's so rare HEY can I try something?"

"Of course, just do not lose it."

"Mei-chan what the fuck are you-"

Gen stepped out of the way when Meiji ran past to find something in his office, grabbing a small origami crane as wide as his hand as he placed it on a table. Gently putting Khoumad's white knife on top of the paper model, he stepped back clutched his hands with a feverish excitement as the metal blade sat on the fragile paper. Not even the head of the crane bent down from its weight, much to the shock of the two youths.

"Yoooooo!" Meiji whispered excitedly. "Dude are you SEEING this shit?!"

"Yeah," Gen gasped astonished, "how is it, but...is it like floating?"

"Microlattice," said Maung walking forwards, "lightest metal in the world, this is how they make airplanes."

"For real?!"

"Mmhmm," he took his knife carefully and pocketed it, "that is good origami, did you make that?"

"Yeah!" Meiji picked it up showing it off. "I call him Terry, like a terrydactyl."

"Did you know, if you make one thousand origami cranes, you can make a wish come true?"

"Oh come on," Ganbe scoffed rolling his eye, "that's just an old myth like, like the sun being pulled by a chariot!"

"A thousand huh?" the beetle muttered stroking his crane. "That sounds pretty neat-"

"Mei-chan no," Gen put his hand down, "anyways I just came to pick up my sickles, when Maung-san's done with me I'll come back here."

"Alright dude," said Garonba hugging him, "be safe alright?"

"Yeah you too."

The steel-beak took his leave with the spider, Khoumad pondering with a tap of his fangs as they stepped outside into the bleary sun.

"Your friend is talented," said Maung, "I now remember why he's your handler."

"Yeah he can do some pretty cool things," said Gen rubbing his arm, "soooo what are we doing today?"

"I'm going to teach you how to kill."

Ganbe clutched his heart with a shudder as he stopped in his tracks.

"B-but...you said we'd be relaxing."

"Yes." Khoumad turned back to him. "Come, I will show you my training room."

Without a choice the avian followed after him, heading back to the Bar District and down towards the riverside just under the main road. Amidst the piles of trash that littered across the embankment, a sewer grate laid in the pavement as Khoumad opened it up, and climbed down into the depths.

"Close it behind you," the spider's voice echoed.

"R-...right."

Ganbe clambered in pulling the grate over his head, the dark subterranean depths illuminated only by ventilation windows set high in the walls where graffiti covered them in lurid imaginative tags. Homeless tents littered the place with thick blue tarp and boxes of cardboard to help creatures keep off the stone cold floor. There were some kaiju in the twisting tunnels, but the moment they saw Khoumad they all ran and cowered into the depths making Gen even more nervous until they reached a separate room. Then he became terrified.

Dozens of mannequins stared at him with faceless eyes, mammals, reptiles and insects all in different shapes and poses with white pale forms and a deathless gaze. All of them had their throats slit open, wide grooves in the neck along with other experimental cuts and stabs for the hearts of different creatures.

"H-h-hhhhholy shit," whimpered Gen.

"Here is where I train," said Khoumad stepping between the bodies, "I will teach you how to kill, so they do not suffer."

"Wh-wh-what...f-fuck, Maung-san th-this is-"

"Yeees?" his eyes twinkled in the light.

"This is...okay, I don't wanna be rude but...this is exactly what a serial killer's place looks like."

"Well, I am one."

Gen felt his body stiffen as he tried to look back to the door.

"An assassin is just a serial killer you pay, is it not? Only difference is, I do not choose who to kill, but others do."

"P-please don't kill me," Gen whispered, "oh gods I'm sorry, I-i dunno what I did to piss Gihei off please I'll do anythi-"

"Ha ha ha, no no no, I won't hurt you Ganbe-san." The tarantula put two hands on his shoulder. "You are my aahpaw, I do not hurt my comrades."

"O-oh, OH, tha-that's cool great, YEAH!" the bird gave a thumbs up with manic glee. "Cool, cool cool, that's uh...s-so uh, what you gonna teach me?"

"There are three ways to kill someone quick," said Maung pointing to a wolf, "the brain, the heart, and the throat. Brain is the least painful, but you need lots of force, hard to stab through. Could electrocute, saw Gihei do it to someone once, just zrrrt, pffff...dead."

He knocked the wolf over with a hollow clonk as it lay rigid on the floor.

"Heart is also good, but tricky to hit, and many creatures have different hearts, so if you miss...agony. But everyone has their throat, in the same place."

Khoumad walked over to a mantis, its throat almost severed fully by the many lines grooving deep into the trachea. The spider flipped one of his knives and offered it handle-first towards Gen.

"Take this. And watch."

"A-alright," Ganbe took it gently.

"We capture Kurasawa, he will be tied down." The tarantula grabbed the mannequin's chin. "Hold one arm under the jaw, pull his neck up like this."

"O-oh gods, okay."

"You are right-handed, yes?"

"Y-yeah, I am."

"Ambidextrous," Khoumad raised his other arms, "now, watch what I do."

With one of his three right arms, the spider pulled out his pale dagger and shoved it into the left of the mannequin's neck, burying to the hilt before wrenching the knife hard to the right and eviscerating the throat fully making Ganbe shudder. But he kept his eye on him, obedient as Maung demonstrated twice.

"Sever the trachea here, or thorax, whatever the throat is. They stop breathing, no air comes to their brain and they die...very...quick."

He dropped the mantis on the floor, pocketing his dagger in his long coat before picking up the mannequin again.

"Now, your turn."

"What, with my sickles?" Gen looked down.

"No, they're too big, unwieldy, use the knife I gave you."

"R-right...so, why did you have me bring them?"

"To defend yourself. Kurasawa might fight back, or one of the homeless down here."

"Heh...right."

Stepping back from their practice victim, the tarantula watched Ganbe try to mimic his killing method, grabbing the chin with his left arm and stabbing with his right in a hard pull from the opposite side of the neck. He felt some resistance, more from his own faltering than anything else as Khoumad encouraged him to repeat and kill. Over the course of 40 minutes, Maung supervised him in his death technique, correcting Gen on the angle of the penetration, or the speed of his cut until the bird's arm was exhausted.

"Good," Maung patted his shoulder, "you learned the technique, now you must overcome your fear."

"Is there a test for that?" said Ganbe rubbing his arm.

"That is up to you. I am surprised, considering you have kusarigama, that you are reluctant to kill."

"Yeah," he looked down at his sickles, "I mean it's not like I hate fighting, I just...I...I just don't wanna kill creatures, Maung-san."

"That is good," Khoumad nodded, "to want to kill is a terrible thing. We must kill for our sake, but we do not have to enjoy it."

"Seriously?" Gen swept his hand across the room of mannequins. "You don't enjoy THIS?!"

"I have to practice. Do you know why I have these mannequins?"

"Yeah, to practice killing quick."

"No, to practice killing painlessly. Look at their wounds."

He pointed to each and every mannequin showing their only deep wounds were the throat and the heart.

"If I only wanted to kill, I would just stab anywhere I wanted, lungs, stomach, eyes, does not matter. But I do not want to kill. I must, but I cannot refuse."

"You...are you serious?" Ganbe rubbed his neck. "I heard all kindsa things about you, like you're cold, heartless and-"

"Yes," Maung nodded, "I have to be. But if you have to kill, you do not have to make them suffer, that is why I am teaching you. Kurasawa does not deserve to die, I agree with you on that. But he must, because Gihei orders us, so either we kill him...or you fight Gihei. Do you want to fight Gihei, Ganbe?"

"N-no, NO!" Gen stumbled back clutching his stomach. "D-don't, p-p-please don't tell him, I-i'll do it, I'll do it!"

"Shhhh...it's alright." Khoumad put up a hand and patted his shoulder. "I do not want to fight him either. Now, let us keep practicing."

Over the course of the next two days, Khoumad taught Gen Ganbe the art of the swift and painless killing. In truth it was only the least painful method, as they kept practicing and refining with Maung offering further mannequins to help Gen adapt to different bodies. Through hours of rigorous training he made his motion fluid, mechanical, like cutting open boxes at an assembly line as he gripped, stabbed and pulled. Gripped, stabbed and pulled.

When not practicing his killing blade, Maung and Ganbe would observe their future victim taking walks around the district, the sports journalist leading questions with the locals as he scribbled notes and took pictures with an old film-based camera. Always the mantis stuck to bustling places, timing his movements with the crowd and confounding his pursuers with a frustrating sense of paranoia. For the most part however he was painfully harmless. Until June 3rd.

Gen sat on a bus covered in a hoodie, staring at his phone with Kurasawa four seats down as they drove towards the docklands. It was a cloudy day with thick overcast sky, a dark silver miasma that oppressed the land beneath as workers and accountants lumbered off the bus in droves to the seafront. Gen had almost never been to the shipping companies beside the sea, a giant maze full of containers and the smell of the sea burning in Gen's beak.

"I'm here," the avian looked to the warehouses, "what do I do?"

"Keep track of him," said Khoumad through his earpiece, "but if he goes inside somewhere, do not follow."

"Yes sir."

Following as casually as he could, Gen moved with the crowd and kept his eye on Kurasawa, the mantis splitting off to wander through the corridors of containers and large corrugated steel walls with emblems brandished upon their fronts. Ganbe knew exactly where he was going, a place he dreaded and hoped he would never have to see. But he found the Crown Industries building in the midst of the labyrinth of crates and houses.

With a stark red background and a golden crown at its centre, the company front had several workers milling about loading and unloading containers with giant lorries rumbling past. The mantis suddenly snuck between the crates, scrabbling on top of them and with a surprising stealth managed to clamber up onto the roof of the building.

"He's inside the Crown place," Gen said to the earpiece, "fucker managed to get up top, he's getting in a window!"

"Hmm," said Khoumad, "Gihei is not there, but Doi-sama is and the workers will bring him to us if they find him."

"Alright, but can't we just get rid of him here?"

"No, news will spread. It is better he disappear than be killed."

Gen kept his eye upon the roof as Kurasawa disappeared through a window. An hour passed as the avian tapped his foot with growing concern and the cruel hope that the reporter would be found and captured by Gihei's workers for an easy passover.

But it was not to be when Ganbe saw the journalist emerge from the same place he entered. The look on his face spoke volumes when he scrabbled desperately off the roof, jumping onto the containers and scurrying his way down with workers pointing up at him.

"HEY, THAT FUCKER'S ESCAPING!"

"GET BACK HERE, SOMEONE STOP THAT THIEF!"

Kama Kurasawa tore through the dockyard maze, hurrying back towards the bus stop on the main street as Gen came running after to try and keep his eye on him, the fluttering coat of the golden-eyed mantis swiftly disappearing between crates with every corner he turned.

"He's heading back!" Gen said in his ear. "He found something, the workers are chasing, I'm getting on his bus-"

"No!"_Khoumad ordered. _"Get the number of his bus, do not follow him you'll be spotted!"

"Shit!"

Racing ahead, Gen pounded his feet across the asphalt with the sour sting of the sea in his eye as he swerved around trucks and moving cranes. The steel-beak leapt upon the side of a crane's struts to launch himself forwards until he crumpled with a hard roll, kicking several buckets over causing Kurasawa to look back. He gasped seeing the familiar one-eyed bird on his tail, as he ran faster until his feet were burning, his heart struggling not to explode when he saw the bus and slammed himself through the door.

"GUH...f-fuck...FUCK!" Ganbe screamed clutching his head before he tapped his earpiece. "H-hey...guh, he...he's on the...bus number seventy...I think he saw me."

"Damn." Khoumad sighed from the other end. "I will keep watch, take the next bus and wait for my orders, we shall catch him today."

"R-right...shit, I'm sorry, M-maung-san I'm sorry-"

"If we do not kill him now, we both shall be."

On the next bus Gen took the long trip back to Issincho, struggling to calm his breath and rubbing his legs with increasing panic. For a brief moment he thought it would be good if Kurasawa escaped, and half of his ride he pondered simply giving up and letting things be. But then he saw Gihei's face. He remembered the burning grip on his shoulder, the crackling snarl, the blood he tasted in his beak once again as he turned his head towards the sky, at the darkening eve as streetlights flickered on.

The lights faded past his vision like a spinning reel, flicking on and off as he recalled the dream. Blink. Blink. Blink. The blood tasted stronger in his mouth, he started to break down in his seat and clutch his face with a shivering sob. He wouldn't stop crying until the bus ended its journey, as he hurried off in search for Kurasawa.

"I'm back," said Gen in his earpiece, "where you at?"

"Djinnai Station," said Khoumad, "I have a plan, follow him, let him see you."

"Wh-WHAT!? B-but you just said-"

"He's frightened now, if he finds you are still following him, he shall return to Kaijurocho, make sure he does."

"But we don't WANT him to get back, if he gets there we can't catch him!"

"Ganbe, be quiet."

His voice cut him deep with a cold shudder as Maung took a breath.

"You will do, exactly what I tell you."

"Y-yes...sir."

"Good. Now...follow him to the train, and let him see you."

"A-alright," Gen nodded, "but, what about you?"

"I will see you both soon."

The comms clicked off, leaving Ganbe petrified by his words before he shook himself free and ran towards Djinnai Station to find the first train to Kaijurocho. One was leaving in twenty minutes as he saw Kurasawa briefly speaking on the phone near the ticket gates. Ganbe jumped ahead and bought his ticket to rush on board, getting himself a seat and waiting for his target to come on. With a sigh of relief he saw the mantis stepping onto the train, and took a moment to steel himself when the reporter walked past him.

The train soon took off, shaped like a serpent with the speed of a bullet with immeasurable comfort inside, having many different chairs with adjustable parts for tails and wings as well as incredible foam that moulded around spikes without puncturing. Once the train started moving Ganbe walked through the aisles, wandering between pale wolves and suited kappas, butterflies with folded wings and tanuki with sleeping masks.

Two carriages over he saw the mantis, and went to the bathroom just past him, making sure that Kurasawa locked eyes with him on the trip back. He saw the reporter tighten his face, but Ganbe did nothing except walk past him back to his own seat. They arrived at Kaijuro Station twenty minutes after departure, Gen keeping a track on him as the mantis hurried into a hall with hundreds of lockers and sturdy pillars amidst the seething crowd of kaiju.

"Maung-san," he muttered in his ear, "I'm in Kaijurocho, he's near the lockers and I'm trying to keep through this crowd but I can't get close!"

There was no response. Gen started to panic as he tapped his earpiece harder.

"Maung-san?! MAUNG-SAN?! SHIT, C-COME ON! FUCK'S SAKE, MAUNG-SAN!"

Fear crept into his heart as the crowd started to disperse. He ran into a corridor to the side and saw Kurasawa heading towards the payphones, before the mantis suddenly bumped into a large scaly bull.

"Sh-shit, sorry."

"My bad," the bull grabbed his hand, "take care sir."

Gen started to bite his fingers, whimpering with frustration as the hall emptied out and the reporter made a call on the payphone.

"F-fuck, fuck fuck, fuuuuck," the avian slumped against the wall, "Maung-san he's calling, h-he's calling someone, we're fucked, we're FUCKED! Maung-san please do something!"

He huddled up his knees and started rocking back and forth, feeling the grip of Gihei on his shoulder from the past as his heart started beating faster. He felt warm in his stomach, a sickness filling with the urge to vomit along with hot tears pouring down his cheeks. He looked back round the corner, Kurasawa still speaking on the phone and occasionally looking at his hand where a watch kept ticking.

"...no." Ganbe's hand slipped down. "Fuck this. Fuck going back to Gihei, I'll go to prison before I go back to him."

Pulling himself up, he made his approach as Kurasawa finished his call. They saw each other once again, and Gen sneered upon him with a desperate rage he forced through himself, arms trembling as he pulled for the satchel at his thigh to arm himself. The reporter smiled as the trains flooded back in, and with it came the horde of kaiju through the halls completely stopping Gen from his desperate attack. Even if he could manage to reach the journalist, there was no room in the sea of creatures, and so despair filled his heart as he staggered against the lockers.

But Kama Kurasawa never left the train station that day. He turned a corner escaping Ganbe's view, and made his way towards the exit above. Then he saw the door to a closet open in front of him, blocking his view as well as others' of him briefly in a blind spot away from two cameras either side of the narrow passage. From the dark of the closet, four hands grabbed him suddenly, his arms restrained and his mouth covered to hide his scream before pulling him into the abyss. And so he was gone.

Kama awoke to the smell of the sewer, wrinkling his face and shaking his head with a shudder as he tried to move before finding his limbs had been tied to a chair, in the centre of an old storage room with damp boxes littering the corners. A firm cable rope had bound his arms and legs with such intricacy that he couldn't even reach with his mantis-scythes to try and cut, gasping as he tried to rock the chair back and forth before realising that the legs had been welded to the floor.

"Good evening, Kurasawa."

A spider walked forth next to the one-eyed avian he met from the tavern.

"I am sorry to tell you this, but there is nothing you can say that shall delay your death this night."

"S-...sorry?" The mantis turned towards Gen. "You...how long were you planning this, you're really one of...those Crown bastards?"

"We are," Khoumad kept talking, "you have gone too deep into our land, and now you know things that cannot be brought to light."

"Ohoh, don't I know it," said the reporter shifting in his seat. "So you're fine with this? You're fine with your boss just destroying our country with his fucking greed, his malice, his...y-you know what he's planning?! Do you think it's worse for me to live and warn creatures than to LET HIM DO THIS?!"

"It is not our choice," the tarantula shook his head, "it is not for us to question our patriarch, nor pass judgment on what he does to sex workers."

"Wh-what?! You...you think I mean...hhhah. Hhhahahahaha."

Kurasawa's laugh scared Gen a little further.

"Y-you...you think that's the worst thing your boss has done?!"

"Wh-what?" Ganbe stepped forth.

"I know about the sex trafficking, I'm not an idiot, I caught a whisper and made up something about Issincho FC to get down there cuz, well, some creatures are suffering and it's a reporter's job to tell others about it!"

"That is true," Khoumad nodded opening his coat, "and I commend you for your courage."

"But I found something much bigger. Something that affects all of us, including you because of what Gihei Ighorashi's planning!

"Which is why you must die."

"W-WAIT!" Gen shouted. "What about my boss, what's worse than that?!"

"Ganbe, enough."

"What did you find?!"

"WHY DON'T YOU ASK HIM?!" Kurasawa snapped at him. "I saw you sneaking behind me the past day, you fucking coward, you pretended to be my friend just so you could hunt me down!"

"I-i...I..." Gen stepped back with a falter, "you shouldn't have come here, you...you stuck your fucking nose where it didn't belong!"

"So you're gonna kill me?!" the reporter gasped. "You, y-you don't know what you're doing, if you let that FUCKER get Lot Zero he's gonna destroy this country!"

"Ganbe."

Khoumad offered one of his knives to him.

"It is time."

Gen struggled to reach out and grip the blade, before the assassin took his hand and thrust the handle into the bird's palm. The mantis shook with increasing fear as the avian walked forth, his hand trembling as he went behind Kurasawa's seat and pulled up his chin.

"Don't."

His eyes of gold looked up with a burning plea.

"D-don't. You...there's so much more at risk, than just your job, Garien-san."

"Sh-shut up." Ganbe tightened his beak. "Just, sh-shut up."

"I know you're not just some punk, you can't, y-you can't be some killer!"

"SHUT UP!"

"Ganbe kill him!" Khoumad snapped with seething eyes. "Remember Gihei's orders, he will NOT tolerate your weakness."

"IT'S NOT WEAK TO FIGHT BACK!" the mantis screamed up at him. "DON'T BE A COWARD, YOU CAN STOP HIM, YOU CAN STOP HIM AND HIS BROTHERS FROM KILLING US WITH THE COLD DEATH!"

"DO YOU WANT TO SUFFER GIHEI'S WRATH?!" Maung screeched. "Remember what he did, Ganbe. Remember what he does. To us."

Gen saw the light. Again it started to blink. Tears streamed from his eye as he tightened his grip on the blade. The fear was too strong. Gihei was too strong. The little spark of rebellion that Kurasawa managed to find, was snuffed out by a greater flame of evil as Gen pulled the reporter's head back as far as he could, and closed his eye with a shivering breath.

"N-NO, NO, G-GARIEN, GARIEN PLEASE!"

"SHUT UP!"

"TH-THIS ISN'T RIGHT, HE'S GONNA BRING COLD DEATH TO US, OR SOMEONE ELSE, YOU HAVE TO STOP HIM, STOP THE COLD DEATH!"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP, SHUT UP, SHUT UUUUUP!

"_DON'T DO IT, GODS PLEASE JUST, DON'T, DOOOON'T- GH-GHRAA-AAAAGH, AAAAAAGHHRRKHHH! GH-GHHHRRRKHHH, GHRRRRKLH! _"

The sound of Kurasawa's choking blood would haunt Gen Ganbe for the rest of his life. A violent howl that rasped with a sputtering cough, head trembling viciously in his grasp from throttling seizures causing the chair itself to creak and shudder. The hot yellow blood spilled down his fingers as Kurasawa rattled with a deathly hiss, his lungs filling with ichor as his eyes rolled up staring into Ganbe, with a look of tortured spite.

When his cries would stop, and the body slumped with head cradled in his arm, Gen pulled his hand free from the knife still buried in Kurasawa's neck. He stumbled back and stared at his hands. He saw them painted red, in another time and another place.

"Ganbe."

Khoumad's voice was a thousand miles away.

"Ganbe."

He fell to his knees as the darkness grew.

Ganbe.

He heard himself scream but his mouth never moved. The light kept flicking above his head, showing his shadow twisting underneath, writhing in the spotlight in wretched anguish as he clutched his face and grabbed at his mandibles as if trying to rip them from his head.

"Ganbe."

A hand gripped his shoulder, before he was pulled up by the arm to see Khoumad with him in the sewer depths.

"Do you need help?"

"...I don't know."

"Alright," Khoumad nodded. "We must hide his body."

"...why?" Gen whispered.

"There is something I learned about death," said the spider. "You take a life, you leave a hole. Some holes are small, little black dots in the road. Some are too great to cross, and many fall in...like you."

"What...what do I do?"

"Never let them find the body." He looked back to the reporter in his seat. "If they are never found, they think maybe the son comes back one day, a family shall wait and hope. The hole then does not grow big, because there is still hope. Let them hope, Ganbe. Take a life, but never take hope."

He walked over to the chair and untied Kurasawa, pulling the knife from his throat to wipe it on the reporter's coat before lifting him in his six arms.

"Follow me."

"...kay."

Travelling into the depths of Kaijurocho's sewers, Gen Ganbe walked with Khoumad Maung and the deceased reporter. His body would be dumped in a forgotten place, a small rarely-used ventilation shaft that none would approach and even fewer would think of looking. For the next three months, no one knew what happened to Kama Kurasawa. And for that, Ganbe's life would forever change upon its rediscovery.