The Psyche Diver Trilogy: Demon Hunters (20 page)

After 30 minutes of being left alone, he sensed a few people enter the room. The people lifted him, together with the chair. They were going to carry him to another room. When they put him down again he felt the presence of a larger group of people around him. Someone removed his blindfold.

Fuminari scowled, blinking at the sudden light. He was in a western-style room of some grand house. Eight people sat off to one side where there were some sofas and tables. Standing among them he saw the three men that had trained guns on him earlier. Ishibashi was nowhere to be seen, he had probably been rushed off to the hospital. Apart from the three men, Fuminari recognized another face: Enoh.

Enoh sat cross-legged on the carpeted floor with a cup of sake. Fuminari felt like he was a catch on display, a side dish to accompany the man’s drink. There were two other men and two women. One of the women had abnormally white skin and long, black hair. Her body gave off a strange energy, like the energy of a female in heat, enough to arouse any passing male; the force wrapped itself around her like a shimmering heat wave. Her lips, in contrast to her white skin, were bloody crimson. It appeared to be their natural color, not from lipstick. Her mouth curled into a seductive grin as she evaluated Fuminari with a lusty stare. The other woman wore a black cloth that covered her entire body. Only her eyes and the skin from her pale wrists down were visible. She wore a veil across her face, concealing it from the nose down. Another section of cloth covered her head. The elliptical space around her eyes was the only section, bar her hands, that allowed her to be seen. She glared at Fuminari, her eyes piercing. Her pupils were black and unforgiving. Her eyes together with the line of her nose hinted that the woman underneath was probably quite beautiful.

Of the two men he was seeing for the first time, one was a monk. His head was shaved clean. He was in his late 30’s. There was intelligence in his eyes, but every now and again something that resembled hysteria would bubble to the surface.

Geshin,
Fuminari thought.

The final man’s eyes flitted uncomfortably between the others and Fuminari. While everyone else in the room had an air of abnormality about them, this man alone seemed normal. It was clear that he was the lowest ranked among them.

“Long time no see,” Fuminari called out to Enoh.

“It was a shame. I’d wanted to use something far more interesting than guns for you.” Enoh chuckled, bringing the cup of the sake to his mouth.

“My thoughts exactly.”

“If you’d come my way I would have done you the favor of burying my hand deep in that throat of yours.”

“If you untie me you could try me on right now.”

“And if it was my decision I would; alas, such is not the case.”

“Scared?” Fuminari bated with a grin.

“Scared indeed. To find a man such as yourself lurking in the wild, the world is not completely forsaken after all.”

“First time I’ve met an old crony of your like too.”

“Such a pleasure to hear.”

“So, what do you plan to do with me?”

“We’ll probably keep you on display for a while, or perhaps you’re ready to tell us why you’ve been snooping into our business?”

“I’ll consider it, if you tell me who the hell you guys are first.”

“You’ll find out soon enough; Master Kurogosho will be here in person tomorrow.”

“Who the fuck is Master Kurogosho?”

“Your torment has been put on hold for a day! Master Kurogosho has expressed a desire to see you in person. Any fun to be had torturing you... Well, we’re just going to have to wait. That man there is just itching to start slicing you up.” Enoh jerked his chin toward the man with the shaved head. The man looked back at Fuminari with a chilling grin that suggested someone had promised fun to be had later.

“Geshin, right?” Fuminari asked.

“Ah,” Enoh narrowed his eyes, “you know his name.”

“Learned it at school,” Fuminari countered lightly.

“Renobo, what do you make of this man?” Enoh asked the woman with the strange sexual energy.

“An oversized monkey that talks too much,” Renobo replied, her voice was cold.

“And you’re a sex-crazed snake, right?” As Fuminari spoke Renobo turned to look at him, her eyes flush with sexual allure. “I bet you spend the whole day desperate to fuck.”

“Correct. I can’t stop thinking about cock.”

Fuminari sensed something like a white snake slithering beneath the surface of Renobo’s flesh. She got to her feet and sauntered across the room until she was just before him.

“I’d just love to suck all that energy from you.” She placed her hands on his shoulders and brought her lips to his in a wet kiss. As she pulled away, blood trickled from Fuminari’s lower lip. She had bitten him with her white teeth. The blood traced a line from his lip to his jaw before dripping onto the carpeted floor. His blood deepened the red shade of her lips.

“Delicious.” Renobo curled her lips up into a tight v-shaped smile.

“I look forward to repaying the debt,” Fuminari said, his mouth already covered in blood. “I’ll strip you naked and ram a viper up your cunt.”

His eyes burned with black flames.

Eleven

The Secret Cult

1

Iba had finally given in.

It was the second morning after his capture at night. By then, he was missing half of his teeth and most of the nails on his hands and feet. Biku had pulled them without anesthetic, using only bamboo slits and a pair of pliers.

He had tied Iba up, then inserted salt-flaked bamboo under the man’s nails in order to prise them from the skin. The torture had been simple, but excruciatingly effective. The nerve endings at the end of a person’s fingers are particularly sensitive. To have bamboo slits tearing into them was agony, enough to force even the toughest man to cry out.

Once he had separated the nails from the skin, Biku had used a set of pincers to twist them out. Then he had moved onto Iba’s teeth. Here Biku had used a narrow bit to drill holes into them, one by one, boring through the enamel and dentine until he hit nerve. He had then inserted a thin file into the holes and begun to rub.

Biku’s stunning smile had never faltered. The smile was that of a child, completely lacking in guilt or self-reproach. He met Iba’s agonized screams with a look of simple curiosity, like a child examining an unfathomable creature.

Iba had held out for two days; when he finally broke on the second morning, it had been more from the horror brought on by Biku’s aberrant smile than from the pain itself. It had eaten away at his will to fight.

“You win,” Iba spat the words, his bloodied head drooping forwards even as he was bound to the chair. “I want some fucking painkillers, anesthetic.”

“Of course. Once you answer my questions,” Biku replied coolly. Hosuke Kumon was standing against the far wall, arms folded as he watched.

Biku paced lightly up to Iba, elegant as a peacock flaunting its plumage.
A congenital indifference to pain.
Biku, named after the great Kujaku Myo’o, had been born without the ability to feel pain. The knowledge made it easier to understand the abnormality of his innocent, schoolgirl-like expression. ‘Biku’ was not his official name at Mt. Koya, more of a nickname. It had arisen naturally as a side-effect of his prodigious talents and striking beauty, both so profound as to bring rumor of Kukai’s second coming. He was youthful looking but likely the same age as Hosuke, at least in his late twenties. He looked like a naively innocent teenager, yet one possessed with the mind of an adult. Even then, there was something hard to place about him.

One of the cornerstones of the rigorous training undertaken as part of some esoteric religions lies in developing the ability to bear physical hardship; such training could include rigorous exercise in the mountains, or wading through freezing water when outside temperatures were twenty degrees below zero. The ability to overcome physical suffering is said to allow acolytes to develop beyond their mere physicality and elevate their conscious mind. The practice is mostly in line with the concept of asceticism; at the very least, the two systems exhibit close similarities.

Biku was born beyond such forms of suffering. It is said that all suffering begins with pain, yet for Biku pain was irrelevant from the beginning. Kukai’s training was designed for a normal physiology; Biku’s unique traits placed him outside the system. He raced through the training at a speed many times that of his colleagues, improvising his own unique techniques even as he did. His tremendous progression was enabled because of his prodigious mind together with his unique physical traits. In this way, the genius esoteric monk Biku--the Kujaku Myo’o--was born.

Biku’s expulsion from Mt. Koya had come four years ago. His dismissal was more voluntary than forced. He had been discovered practicing the Tachikawa methods. The Tachikawa School had been founded by Ninkan during the Heian period and was historically regarded as a dangerous sub-cult; it was a tributary of esoteric Buddhism formed around the notion that living Buddhahood could be attained through sexual union, or
Fuji Myogo
. When Biku’s practice had been exposed, he had made the decision to pre-empt his dismissal by leaving Mt. Koya of his own volition.

Yet this did not mark the end of Biku’s relationship with Mt. Koya. The mountain proved reluctant to part with Biku’s particular gifts, also fearing that other sects might seek to exploit them. Mt. Koya decided to offer Biku a paycheck to fund his allegiance, together with the promise of possible reinstatement in the future. His role as a fixer of Mt. Koya’s problems developed as a natural extension of this special, outside status.

It was belief in the magical powers of the esoteric religions that led to their adoption by the Japanese state over a thousand years ago. The religions consolidated their positions of favor by performing ritualistic incantations to rid the state of its enemies, while offering protection from curses directed its way.

The Shingon sect used such incantations to predict changes in state powers and, on occasion, set them in motion; they exorcised demons. Together with Saicho’s Tendai sect, their power nearly eclipsed the failing might of Nara Buddhism, becoming the second and third most influential religions of the age. Even in the modern day, people flock to esoteric religions with requests for incantations. Many are requests for exorcisms, while some ask for a curse to get rid of a particular person. Difficulties can arise when the latter is refused, particularly when the requesting party belongs to organized crime. It was after Biku’s skillful handling of one such case that Mt. Koya came to employ him in the role of managing such real-world problems when they arose. Biku of the Plains--this was how the monks of the mountain came to refer to him, recognizing his role outside of, and yet within Mt. Koya.

2

“Go ahead, ask what you want!”

Iba spat a gob of red phlegm on the floor. His face had swollen, turning a dark red. Missing teeth caused an abrasive whistle to accompany the words.

“Let’s begin with the most pressing question. Where is Kukai’s body?” Biku asked, positioned so that he sat on the table in front of Iba. He had hardly slept over the last couple of days, but it did not show. His features were bright and healthy in stark contrast to Iba’s unnaturally dark and swollen visage. Biku crossed the white cotton jeans of his long, slender legs.

“I have no idea.”

“You know it was stolen.”

“Yeah.”

“Who stole it?”

“Those
Panshigaru
assholes.”

“Tell me what you know about Panshigaru.”

“I don’t know details. It’s the name of an organization. Hanko, Jakou’in...they’re all Panshigaru.”

“Jakou’in?”

“The woman hiding her face, wearing black, back in the mountains that first time.”

“These people from Panshigaru know the whereabouts of Kukai?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Why did they steal Kukai?”

“I don’t know.”

“You can do better than that. You were working for them.”

“I worked with them, but our organizations are different.”

“Explain.”

“They’re Panshigaru, I work for the Shinmeikai.”

“Ah yes, the Shinmeikai.” Biku’s eyes flashed recognition; the Shinmeikai, a Yakuza crime syndicate that held influence over the whole Kanto region. “How are the Shinmeikai related to Panshigaru?”

“Some of our top guys have links to Panshigaru. Even then, only a few in the Shinmeikai know of Panshigaru’s existence.”

“How would you go about making contact with Panshigaru?”

“That’s up to the top.”

“So you wouldn’t know.”

Iba said nothing. A playful smile ran across Biku’s crimson lips as he took the drill from the table and flicked on the power switch. The motor spun into action. “Shall we take it from the beginning?” Biku offered a shallow grin.

The color bled from Iba’s face as his eyes dropped to the ground; he let out an anxious breath. “There’s one guy, Ishibashi. He’s got connections to the top. He might know more about Panshigaru.”

“What does Ishibashi do?”

“He’s Shutaro Toyama’s personal secretary.”

“Toyama? Shutaro Toyama, the minister?”

“Yeah.”

“How’s he related to the Shinmeikai?”

“I don’t know. But come on, it’s nothing new for a politician to be holding hands with the Yakuza.” Iba turned to look Biku in the face, apparently regaining some of his usual bravado.

“Okay, let’s backtrack a little. Tell me more about Hanko.”

“Hah, him!” Iba’s eyes fell over the scar on his left shoulder. He had sustained it after Hanko’s knife attack in the hotel room two nights ago. “He’s a freak.”

“But it...he’s human?”

“Yeah, he’s human alright.” Iba coughed up some more blood before looking up again. “Have you heard of the
Jushi
?” he asked.

“
Jushi
...beast masters.” The answer came from Hosuke; he had been listening until now, leaning against the wall. He was dressed in torn jeans with a hemp shirt pulled over his thick chest.

“You know the phrase?” Biku turned to him.

“Sure. You’ve heard of ‘
tensoku,
’ the Chinese practice of feet binding?”

“Yes,” Biku replied.
Tensoku.
A technique designed to prevent the natural growth of the feet. Girls were singled out during infancy and forced to wear small wooden shoes, forbidden to remove them until fully grown. This resulted in a deformity where their feet stayed an infant’s size even though their body was fully grown. The courts of ancient China placed a high value on the tiny feet of such women and they became the toys of aristocracy; records show that staff were maintained as professional feet binders during this period. The women whose feet had been bound in this way were hardly able to walk. On top of this, some were blinded and had their teeth completely removed so they could perform oral sex; they also received detailed teachings in the desires of the body. Historical records show that the women were often traded in auctions, fetching impressive premiums.

“There was a similar technique in ancient China, one that necessitated an even greater level of skill; the art of transforming a person into a beast. The technique was originally developed for warfare. Children seen to have potential were thrown into a cage with a dangerous animal--a tiger, for example. Those that survived the ordeal were raised alongside the beast, manipulated so that they became a beast themselves; eventually their heart became one with the animal. The practitioners of the art were known as
Jushi
, beast masters.”

“You know your stuff. That’s more than I know,” Iba said, wincing. Just talking was causing him considerable pain. “Panshigaru employs a
Jushi
of their own, an old man called Enoh. He made Hanko,” Iba continued, breathing harder.

“You seem well informed.”

“Just whispers, okay? But these things tend to be true.”

“Okay. But why would Panshigaru want to steal Kukai? Feel free to rely on these whispers for your answer. Was it money? Something else?”

“Fuck knows. Not to decorate some shitty alcove, that’s for sure.” Iba tried to grin, but he only managed a trembling grimace. Any normal man would have been on the floor in agony by now. Iba’s willpower was remarkable.

“Agreed. Let me change the question. Why were you tasked to hire Kumon? What link is there between a Psyche Diver and Kukai’s self-mummified remains?”

“Who knows.”

“The playacting is not helping.”

“I can’t know what I don’t know. I just heard that there was an accident, that two Divers got fucked up.”

“An accident?”

“An accident, sure. I don’t know anything else.” Iba curled his lips and ran his blood-stained tongue over the pits of his toothless gums. His eyes were beginning to lose focus. He was reaching the limits of his ability to endure pain.

3

Odawara. The Araku coast.

Hosuke Kumon and Biku stood behind the old man as he gazed out to sea; they watched his gray hair billow in the wind. The old man’s name was Gensai Sakuma. According to Hosuke, the man was a master of booze and women. It was the same coastline Biku had visited to find Gensai back in June while searching for Hosuke. A month had yet to pass since then.

After finally tracking Hosuke down, Biku had requested that he dive into the mind of a man found collapsed at the temple where the self-mummified remains of Kukai had been stolen. Hosuke had been forced to abort mid-dive after someone cut the power. The host had died but Hosuke managed to rescue a Psyche Diver named Kagawa. Kagawa had become trapped in the host's mind after diving in, suffering mental damage during the process. Regardless, Hosuke had managed a couple of useful discoveries.

The first -- the man they had found unconscious outside Kukai’s chamber had also been a Psyche Diver. The second -- almost the entirety of his mind had been missing, having been literally consumed by something. Hosuke had discovered fragmented screams littered across his mind, remnants from when the attack had happened. A selection of images had been hardwired into the screams. They had appeared to belong to a kind of religious ritual, but the scene had been excessively deviant. Hosuke had seen a mass of naked men and women gathered in the mountains, engaged in some kind of mass orgy. Superimposed on the image had been a single naked woman strung upside down to a cross. Her head had been severed.