The Three Week Siege of Tokyo

Three weeks after Gouki Kageyama had blown up his own house, Tokyo was embroiled in chaos.

On a horse track where multiple race horses sprinted across dirt, their riders holding on desperately while hoping for glory, a fat man with dice tattoos on his hands held a fist up, signaling to the jockey indebted to the Kageyama family. In a flash of fire the jockey transformed, his body burning and turning skeletal, elongating until he resembled a fiery bakotsu. The horse demon galloped across the track, killing man and horse alike while Gambler watched calmly, marking down the numbers on a sheet of paper. Two horses survived, one jockey. He marked down all of those who bet on said outcome, smiling as he imagined the money about to come in.

At a prestigious university, aa if on cue from some deranged director’s command, students transformed into ushi oni, spider legs and bull heads appearing on their bodies as they experienced utter heartbreak. One after another their significant others told them they had cheated, their relationships ending. In those fragile moments demons contacted the heartbroken young people, offering them either solace or revenge. As the campus plunged into chaos, with young men and women tearing each other apart, Seducer strolled through it all, amazed at how easy it was to break teenagers hearts. Her small army of men and women plying their sex worker trade did well for her.

During a sumo match where Takeshi the exorcist was eagerly watching a friend’s match, a onikuma burst into the arena, seriously injuring both sumo and several spectators. The match turned into an intense fight between the bear like demon and Takeshi, his hands glowing red with exorcist energy as he fought the creature into submission. From a hidden corner, Gardener watched, calm and peaceful, giving prayers for all those who had been killed in the attack he led. “Back to the dirt, the garden of all life. I shall give you eternal slumber with this loathsome creature, oh unfortunate living souls.”

Through these attacks and many more, Gouki Kageyama waited for the message he so desperately wanted to hear.

Stop the blood. Come get your book.

Atop a grand hotel, he looked down at the city. The sun was bright and hot, the sky beautiful, and somewhere one of his Seven was leading an attack, sending more demons against the people below. He drank his beer, wondering when to move next, if the exorcists were finally catching up to him, if it would even matter.

“Why not attack police headquarters?” Thinker asked, standing calmly behind him. He was one of the few men Gouki would allow to stand behind him on a rooftop.

“You don’t agree with my mercy?” Gouki asked.

“This is mercy?” Thinker asked, arching an eyebrow.

Gouki finished his drink, throwing the bottle over the side of the building before casually strolling inside the penthouse. “Of course. They have a chance to surrender, right?” Gouki asked.

Thinker's face remained like stone.

“I know. You want me to end things quick and efficient, right?” Gouki said, leaning against a chair back.

“I do prefer efficient tactics,” Thinker said. The two men glared at each other, technically employer and employee, master and servant, but Gouki always had a chilling feeling when around Thinker, as if the reason he trusted him was because Thinker needed him and not the other way around.

The stagnant air was broken by a ding on Thinker’s phone. He reached into his pocket while Gouki sauntered away, opening the fridge and grabbing two more drinks. Thinker scrolled through several messages on his phone, neither his mood nor the messages contents betrayed by his face. As he walked back, Gouki tossed the beer to Thinker, who grabbed it from the air without even looking.

“A successful attack by Breaker,” Thinker said. Gouki slammed the bottle top onto the counter, scratching the hell out of it as beer fizzed over the top. Thinker, however, used only his thumb to pry the cap off, drinking the beverage calmly while looking through his messages.

Gouki walked over to his subordinate, casual as could be, a friendly smile on his face. Thinker didn’t bother to look up. He never did when Gouki ranted. His attitude changed, though, when Gouki grabbed Thinker’s phone and threw it across the room with a casual toss, his eyes demanding the old man look at him.

“Listen here, Thinker,” Gouki said slowly, carefully, maintaining his air of casual friendliness while his eyes demanded absolute respect. Humoring him, Thinker gave him his full attention. “I make the plans. You figure out how to do them. My plan is to exhaust and terrify the exorcists. Then we strike.”

Thinker sighed, knowing arguing was pointless. He gave his boss a polite nod. “Fine,” he said, walking over to where Gouki had thrown his phone. It powered back on, revealing the last picture he had taken with his son before D Day as the lock screen. The last picture where Thinker had been smiling. He inspected the phone slowly and methodically, looking for cracks before returning it to his pocket. “Don’t point your gun at me, by the way. It won’t intimidate me.”

He turned, seeing Gouki pointing his pistol at him. The yakuza boss sighed, slipping it back into his waistband.

“I’m not one of your cowed monsters, Gouki,” Thinker said, being as deliberate with his words as Gouki had previously been. Gouki slumped into the chair nearest him, waving Thinker off.

“Fine. Get out of here. Make people bleed for me,” Gouki said, no longer interested in the conversation. As Thinker walked toward the door it opened, revealing the massive bat like form of Yami Ishikawa stooping under the frame to get in. Their eyes briefly met, each containing the impotent contempt of powerful men who hated each other but acknowledged their purposes.

“Speaking of cowed monsters…” Thinker said as he exited the apartment.

“What was he pissed about?” Yami asked, settling his bulk onto the couch across from Gouki. He kicked his feet up, rattling the coffee table before him as they slammed down onto it.

“Nothing. Only an irritated old man whining about my methods. Same as always. It’s fine,” Gouki said. Yami cocked his head, doubting those words but wise enough not to say anything.

“You have one less member of the Diet to worry about,” Yami said, hoping to change the mood.

“And you have a lot more money in your bank account. To progress,” Gouki said, sticking his own legs out and kicking Yami’s feet off the table.

Thinker waited patiently in the elevator. He didn’t mind. He enjoyed slow moments, despite his desire to accomplish things as fast as possible. Assembling the plan was his passion, ever since he was a young man making models of ships and robots. Yet ever since he had been recruited by Gouki into his ridiculous group, he felt like part of the plan was being kept from him.

There is.

The voice whispered info Thinker’s ear. Not physically, as he remained alone in the elevator. But the presence was always with him. The demon Traveler had contracted for him. He didn’t know what it was, or where it was from. Nor did he care. The loathsome thing was a constant irritant, a voice living in his head when all he wanted was to be left alone with his thoughts.

The elevator doors slid open and Thinker walked out, his stride even. The young man at the front desk didn’t look at him. The threats to the staff had ensured Gouki could stay in the building for a few days with none of them saying anything. However, it was getting time to move again. Human fear could only be manipulated for so long, which was what Gouki didn’t understand. He thought he was a monster. People are afraid of monsters. They bow to them, follow them, worship them.

Their enemies, however, were the slayers of monsters.

They wouldn’t become afraid.

They would become angry.

Thinker knew the combination of anger and purpose was incredibly powerful. It was also unpredictable. In a world full of demons, Thinker wondered if the most unbearably unique and unknowable thing was simple human stubbornness.