A black sedan pulls out of the driveway and screeches off. Your cue. "Sorry," you wheeze out of a… well, not broken, but kinda cracked up ribcage. "But I gotta dip." The floor shakes as Metalhead arrives a little too late. You leap through the window, glass breaking into shards as you begin falling again. The wind whips through your hair and you're feeling free as you twist to the side of the building and jam the spear into the wall to stop the drop. You were about to hit the ground when the wall gave way and you plummeted in free fall, smashing through the ledge above the door.
About now the BMW's engine roars. You twitch on the ground like a fish for a second, recovering your breathing.
You leap up after a moment in the asphalt and concrete rubble. And glass. A shard nicks your finger while you were brushing off your jacket. There was a limp in your left leg. Landed wrong. Hell.
One, two, three sharp cracks sounded, and the tinkle of windows breaking. Three shapes were ejected out of the building with some force. "Attagirl, Yuexia!" you shout on the basis of comradeship, even though she probably can't hear you. Car, car, car. There's one, an Audi. You smash the window, only to realize there's no key.
Shit.
"He's there!" someone yells. You rip off the door and fling it like a discus at the mob of mooks. Strike for you, you guess. And it just so happens that none of them have a key. Goddamn.
Out of the corner of your eye you spy a bike. Beaten down thing. "I'm not gonna have a high speed chase against the yakuza on a fucking bike," you state.
Okay, but is there really a choice? No key, and the last time you tried to hotwire a car you burned your fingers.
"It's so lame though."
Your choices are the bike or run.
"Goddamn."
It's so unwieldy riding the bike with one hand on the handlebars and the other holding your spear like some budget ass nomad warrior. The tires screech as you almost lose control, skidding out into the road. Where the hell… there! You can't miss it for all the world. That BMW climbing up into a highway overpass.
Your lungs burn. Holy god, does it burn. Why did you think chasing after a BMW going a hundred and twenty on the freeway was a good idea? Your heart thuds in your ear, a whole body basso vibration as chains rattle. And it's still just out of reach, even though you can see the license plate. The target weaves in and out of traffic, a game you can frankly play better than them, even if your legs at this point feel like jelly.
A breadloaf van clips you. You slide under a truck. When the BMW goes off the highway on a southbound ramp you pedal close to the railing of the overpass and leap down with the bike on your shoulder in a shin splintering impact, immediately leaping onto the bike and pedaling like hell, overtaking them.
You leap for reasons unknown to god, man, and you. All you knew was that one moment you were pedaling and the next you were perched on a truck going ninety kilometers right in front of Oogami and the slitmouth, agape at your stunt. You bring the spear up and-
The world stops suddenly. A fucking highway sign, a highway sign of all things, hits you and pitches your limp body forward and onto the BMW You grab hold of the roof, and metal tears under your fingers. Still, you're on, even though slitmouth's doing his best to juke you off. He nearly crashes a couple of times. Still, it's the simplest thing to take that spear and-
Poke.
It punches through the roof and the car screeches and tumbles upside down. You land a distance away from the wreck, checking that there's blood, yep, that's blood, on the spearhead. Oogami's dead, and if that wasn't proof enough you have the sitmouth carrying the body out of the wreck crying and sobbing. His face was this twisted parody of grief, but, you consider while walking closer, that's probably the scars.
"Y-you killed him," he choked out.
"Yeah." You scratch your head. Score one for you, but you're feeling all knotted up inside. What were you expecting? Not this. You feel like you've kicked a puppy. A psychotic, kicked up puppy.
"H-he was gonna turn Kirisaki around," the slitmouth continued. His voice caught and stumbled. "And n-now he's gone. And I'll never repay him. F-for everything."
"Er. Would you like a shot at me?"
He did.
It was nothing like… not like Metalhead, a desperate battle against an implacable foe. It wasn't a test of skill and tenacity against skill and tenacity, where two lonely stars met, clashed, and parted until their orbits crossed again, feeling all the better after it. It wasn't even like Remora, slippery and mind bending. It was just…
It was some broken down middle aged thug beating your face in. He's strong, yeah. Every punch and kick hurts like he's pressing red hot brands on you. He's tough, and you think he's getting off on this, with every inch of skin cut open he's just getting stronger. He's losing. Maybe if he was younger, if he kept in shape (you can feel some flab on his paunch) he could have given you a fight. But as it is, even in your state- heart beating like it's about to explode, legs essentially jelly, you can beat him easy.
When he charges at you you catch him in the head and squeeze. And then it pops, blood and brain sticky and sweet against your chest and face. The corpse falls down.
You collapse.
The book, remember the book? pokes up at you. You take it out and flip it open as you drag yourself to a railing to prop you up. Everything's coming back with a vengeance now. Your heart. Your lungs. God, the twitching ropes that constitute your body. With trembling fingers you flip it open, wondering what's got Yuexia so focused on it. Looks like a private dossier. There's names of hundreds of people, along with juicy anecdotes that would get them in deep shit. Fucking his boss's wife. Sold hard drugs and bribed the cops off. Hey, that'd explain it. Maybe Yuexia's rocking up for a nutso vigilante run on the entire city. That's pretty cool of her. Hope she doesn't die.
Something catches your eye. Guy named Li E'kun. "Snakehead boss, in charge of C/A to eastern seaboard drug peddling. Once Mengzhu claimant?" Isn't that what you think you were? Not the mengzhu thing, the drug thing. His picture stares up at you, a viciously vital sixty something with a magnificent mane. One eye, the other scarred out by a blade, stares up at you. You think. Eh, might be worth tracking him down. You rip out the page and stuff it in your other pocket as snowflakes drift from the sky.
Consider, you think. "What's there to consider?" you ask the air. "I met someone new. I killed him. That's the course of my life." You just want to sleep. Forever and a day.
Dream…
[]- There is a dreadful heat that chokes the ground. The sun, fat and red, hangs on the horizon. In the distance, the beat of horse hooves. {Increase Chase the Red Sun to Intensity 3}
[]- Something is eating people. You hear it in the cabinet, slurping the fat from their bones. There is a spear in your hands. Are you eating? {Increase Harmonious Society to Intensity 4}
[]- You can see Buddha within you. It's trapped in skin and wreathed in clouds and it's cutting its way out. {Increase Wrathful Manifestation to Intensity 4}
[]- Xingtian is howling defiance. You know it is not Xingtian, flensed of skin and a brass skull, but it dances nevertheless. Also it's on fire. {Increase Pain is a Teacher to Intensity 3}
