Hunt Begins

Gyeong-mi slammed his fist into the wall.

The concrete slabs shattered like glass, crumbling to the floor as the leader of the Stray Dogs panted.

"Dammit!"

The other Stray Dogs lowered their heads. Shattered mirages of dusk-orange and pitch darkness patterned their faces.

In today's losses, their numbers had been cut from nineteen to fifteen.

But not only that. Zulu's body, his augments, and his dignity were stolen. Stolen by that Capo Killer and his Captain, the Marionette.

Rage seethed in the slits of their eyes.

This was the birth of vengeance.

"What should we do, Gyeong-mi? We'll crush them both!" Dino gnashed his teeth.

With those words, he carried the sentiment of all the Stray Dogs.

He became the mouthpiece of their rage.

"Zulu died for absolutely fucking nothing! That dogshit Capo, that motherfucking bitch of a Proxy!" Burning tears streaked down Dino's face as he curled up, his face twisting into some raw creature of emotion.

The Stray Dogs glanced up in fear. Cursing the Capo and the Proxy?

A habitual fear almost silenced them.

Almost.

But their fear only fed their resentment.

What was the point of being kicked around like mutts, forced to slave away to fulfill someone else's whims? Out of all this pain and suffering, what was there to gain?

Gyeong-mi's left hand was dead.

The leader of the Stray Dogs stepped toward Dino, collapsing on the man's shoulder. Ugly, choked sobs flooded from Gyeong-mi's throat.

The sobs flowed with rage and regret.

Out of habitual subservience, he had let four people under him die.

And the killer still walked free, without a care.

He stopped.

"Hey." Gyeong-mi rasped, flicking his gaze to the side. "Who's with me?"

The man's inner thoughts seeped through his expression. Painting themselves on his bared teeth. Etching themselves into the streaks of rage that bled from the corner of his eyes.

His face explained it all.

Revenge. Revenge. Revenge.

Dino wiped away his tears. The harshest grin split his face open.

"I'm with you, Boss."

One by one, the other Stray Dogs stood up. Silently, they gave their assent.

Gyeong-mi's tears dried away, leaving behind only a singular desire.

A light cough cut through the tension.

Gyeong-mi whirled around.

His blood froze.

A gold-hooped cloak.

A Messenger with pure white hair.

Dino growled, taking a step forward.

"You... how much did you hear just now?"

The girl flicked her hair. She only heard the last bits, anyway.

"I don't care about such matters. The Prescripts told me to give this to the leader of the Stray Dogs." The Messenger bent down, placing two syringes on the dusty floor.

The contents of the transparent syringes glowed a dark, harsh purple.

"It provides a hint for you: Inject one of these into a living body, and all its wounds will fade away in an instant."

Gyeong-mi blinked. Since she was a Messenger, what she said had to be true.

"...This almost seems like the Index is helping with our plan. Why?"

The Messenger shrugged.

"That is not my concern." She turned to leave.

Gyeong-mi looked at the two syringes with a strange glint in his eyes.

"Well, I guess we should take every advantage we got. Hm-?" The man flinched as the girl switched directions, briskly approaching him.

Before he could react, the Messenger opened her mouth. She could not deny her curiosity.

"What is the plan you're talking about?"

Gyeong-mi didn't mind sharing. He clenched his fist.

"Today we're going to kill those bastards, Asher and Sophie. I see the Prescripts want the same. Let It know that It has my gratitude."

The girl's eyes snapped open. Horror filled her cobalt pupils.

She took a faltering step back, her voice hitching with shock as she stumbled to the ground.

"Messenger? You alright?"

She ignored Dino's voice, her eyes solely focused on the purple syringes lying on the ground beside her.

Her pupils trembled feverishly.

A horror that she had never experienced before gripped her chest. She reached toward the needles, yet her other hand seized her wrist, preventing her from smashing the glass tubes apart.

This was... the Prescript's will?

"N-No..." Her voice distorted with emotion as she scrambled to her feet, her hand still gripping her wrist. "I-!"

The Messenger took a single step back. Then another. Then another. With each slow, terror driven step, she backpedaled away from the scene.

Until she reached the door to the outside, where she turned around and sprinted away.

The Stray Dogs stared at where the Messenger ran away from, uncomprehending.

However, their thoughts soon returned to the syringes on the ground.

"Dino, you carry one. I'll carry the other." Gyeong-mi contemplated the glow of the syringe as he stored it in his pant pockets.

A flower of vengeance blossomed.

It spread its ugly, crimson petals.

...

The Patriarch sighed. Only a fraction of it was caused by the stress of suddenly losing his third son.

"The longer we drag this out, the riskier it becomes for the clan. We all know the many subsidiaries snuffed because of the Sottocapo's whims." Even when mentioning the Sottocapo in such a secluded area, the Patriarch couldn't resist descending his voice into a whisper.

The three Dons nodded. They knew who the Patriarch would send. The strongest, yet the most expendable.

"We must strike fast. We must eliminate the Capo Killer. Tonight."

The Dons' heads whipped up.

"This will prove our loyalty to the Thumb. So," the Patriarch looked into their eyes, "finish him off by the end of the day."

Before the Dons could nod, the Crescent Moon raised a question that all of them were thinking.

"What about Sayako?"

The man shook his head.

"Considering the tracker on her, sending her with you three might be troublesome. And that arm of hers..."

An uncomfortable silence descended.

The arm spoke. It listened. Who knew its inner thoughts?

And what if her mind was affected by it?

"I understand, master."

"Good. Don't sulk, Arche. Sayako is still part of us."

The Crescent Moon nodded, slightly unconvinced. Looking at the faces of the other Dons, and even his own Patriarch, they wouldn't mind if Sayako disappeared forever. Their lips were curled with disgust.

"When do we begin, master?"

"Now." He shooed them away.

The Dons flashed to their feet.

Arche, the Crescent Moon, undid the sash on his sleeve.

With a twirl, the sash morphed into a long polearm, with each end fitted with a shining blade in the shape of a crescent moon.

The other Dons, similarly, had their weapons in hand.

They silently filtered out of the room, leaving the Patriarch to his own thoughts.

...

Back on the rooftops, Asher and Sophie glanced at each other.

"What should we do?" Asher asked.

Dusk shimmered in their faces. Soon, it would be nighttime.

Sayako grimaced.

"Honestly, I don't know. It's been years since the Sottocapo has hounded after someone like this. And he uses different methods every time. Only one person who interested the Sottocapo like you is still alive today."

Only one?

"Do you know that person's name?" Asher propped his chin on his fist. He had never heard of such a thing before. His knowledge of the history of his section was still pitifully nonexistent.

"Her name is Mirinae. She's the lead torturer over there." Sayako pointed into the distance, toward the white obelisk of the Hana Association.

Except for Mei, who had no recollection of the name, the others took in a sharp breath.

Without pause, Sayako described the story that Kalo plotted to satisfy his interest in the caramel-haired specialist.

"I was only eight when I first saw her. She was maybe fifteen..."

Sayako shivered as her mind imparted the memories.

The story took about a dozen minutes to complete.

...

The contents of the story could be inferred from the aftermath it created.

Asher clenched his jaw, his hands locked against his stomach.

Halfway through the story, Mei had excused herself to the other side of the rooftop.

Pete, Mangchi, and Aiko lurched away from the edge, forming puddles of vomit on the gravel floor.

Even Sophie felt a tingle in her spine as Sayako concluded her memories with faint breaths.

Bodies, maggots, mother, rot, and so much more...

A cliché story, really. Before the Smoke War, these sorts of anecdotes were commonplace, along with much more.

The difference between back then and now was utterly terrifying.

Sophie was the first to speak. Her expression held a twitch of leftover disgust.

"That doesn't have much use to us, though. You said the Sottocapo used different strategies each time."

Sayako waved her hand.

"I'm saying that you guys are in danger, just like she was. My clan has your address. I suggest that you move to somewhere else. Now, if possible."

Asher stood to his feet. The twisted fate of Mirinae's parents convinced him of Sayako's words. Because someone special to him was on this roof.

His lips trembled.

Sophie placed her hand on the boy's shoulders.

Their eyes met. In an instant, over a dozen minutes of conversation was exchanged through their mental connection.

Asher covered his eyes with a hand. Then, a chuckle.

"Hah... That's scuffed."

The boy glanced to the side, grinning as Sophie's lips drew into a smirk. He calmly stretched his arms and legs, and Mei rejoined them as she noticed Asher's readied movements.

"Sophie's already thought of a plan. She can explain it to you. Good luck, guys."

Mei yelped as Asher leapt off the roof without another word, disappearing into the folds of shadowed alleys below.

"Huh??" The others turned to Sophie, their eyes blank with confusion.

They all had one question in their minds. Mangchi voiced it aloud.

"If Asher is the one being targeted, then isn't splitting away like this a bad idea?"

Sophie shook her head.

Not at all. In fact, this was the best plan.

Because for the rest of today, 'Asher' no longer existed in this world.

Without answering the question, she took out her phone, dialed a number, and set the volume to 'speaker' mode.

The call was accepted immediately. A coarse rasp came from the other side.

"What is it?"

Mangchi and Sayako flinched; they recognized this voice. For Mangchi, it was from the Hana forum. For Sayako, it was from her clan's video database.

Sophie kept up her act, speaking in an amiable tone.

"Little Red, can I ask you for a favor?"

At this remark, even Mei stiffened. She had heard of that title, too, casually tossed around like some sort of boogeyman of the night, a midnight mercenary.

Now everyone's attention was focused on the conversation.

"What is it?" The voice was laced with impatience, rising with each word.

"Come over here first. One of my friends needs a guard."

Little Red hung up, neither agreeing to nor denying the girl's request.

Sophie's three Fixers instantly began to whisper among themselves. While Mei was an ordinary civilian with no experience of such things, and Sayako was a Don of the Kurokumo, the three low-level Fixers felt the most pressure at the mention of Little Red.

"Don't worry," Sophie addressed the concerned whispers, "she won't harm us. You three and Mei will go to one of your hideouts for the night, and she will guard you along the way. Asher will be fine by himse..."

A hand wrapped in leather belts reached behind Sophie, tapping her on the shoulder.

"I'm here, girl." A single yellowish eye scanned each person with a dangerous, violent glint.

Pete and Aiko gasped, stepping away from the crimson-cloaked figure.

"Thanks for coming. Follow these four," she gestured to everyone except Sayako, "Mangchi, lead Mei to a hideout to spend the night. Quickly."

Before the three Fixers (and Mei, for that matter) could complain, Little Red corralled them to the staircase.

"Hurry up, I don't have all night," the woman growled. Coupled with her snarling mask, Mei and the Fixers couldn't help but increase the pace.

By the time they reached the door to the stairway leading downward, Mei was already near a sprint.

Sayako and Sophie watched as the group disappeared down the stairwell.

The Dark Cloud Blade couldn't resist asking.

"What the hell? I never knew that you had that hound on call. Does she owe some sort of debt to you?"

Sophie resisted the urge to fabricate an unnecessarily cool-yet-complicated narrative. Simple was better, especially when linking two previously unassociated identities.

The more complicated narrative nuances could be considered for later.

"Nuh-uh. We're just old friends."

Sayako squinted. A twelvish year old girl saying that she had 'old friends' sounded a bit odd.

She glanced around herself. They were the only ones left on the rooftop. Already, the moon had peeked out in the semi-night.

"It's just the two of us now. We could have used Asher and Little Red's help, you know."

Sophie blinked. This time, it was her turn to be confused.

"You are going to help me? At most, I was hoping for a non-interference. Considering the circumstances." Obviously, Sophie assumed that the woman would want to help her clan.

Sayako gave the girl a reassuring smile, taking her eyes away from the fading sunset for a moment. Her eyes contained mixed emotions.

"So you, a mere Grade Seven Fixer, were planning to face the Dons alone? And honestly..."

The woman's voice stiffened. "It's too late now."

Sayako's expression twisted with unease, almost like from an upset stomach.

Sophie patted the woman's shoulder, attempting to coerce her to continue with the juicy exposition.

Yet Sayako only giggled, reaching over to ruffle the girl's hair. She knew exactly what Sophie was thinking right now.

"Haha! I didn't mean it like that. I meant..."

Sayako twirled her wrist, pointing behind herself without glancing back.

Sophie's eyes followed the finger's trajectory.

"They're already here."

What comedic timing.

Standing behind them were the three Dons.

"It's already too late."

Sophie's joints creaked as she wordlessly lowered her body into an inhuman stance.