5656!_Knights' Strange Night

by Ryohgo Narita

  “No.”

  “Shit, at least let me finish!” Inui cried, slapping his forehead. But he still grinned. “That’s just like you. Your characterization, I guess.”

  With an impish grin, he turned his back on Kugi.

  “See you around. Call me if you can’t squeeze the answers outta these goons. And tell the Western District I’m willing to negotiate for a price on this info I’ve got.”

  Silent and never once showing a hint of emotion, Kugi watched the other dog leave.

  Several minutes later, in front of the fountain.

  “A TV, huh. Wonder if they’d play some movies on this thing.”

  Having left Kugi, Inui walked around the island to enjoy a moment of peace.

  He wandered into the indoor square in the mall that stood between the two districts.

  Before the fountain that stood as a symbol of the mall was a recently-installed TV. But it was currently turned off.

  Perhaps that was why no one was around, save for a few vagrants lying in a corner of the square.

  Inui approached the TV and recalled his earlier encounter.

  “Heh. Knew they’d come up, but not this quickly.”

  And he thought about the surprisingly normal conversation he’d held as he mumbled to himself.

  “Gotta say, I didn’t think Kugi’d be chill enough to let me leave…”

  At that moment, he saw the world reflected in the TV.

  On the black screen was his own rainbow hair—

  And a veritable shadow of a man approaching behind him.

  “Psych! Knew it!”

  He simultaneously turned and leaned back.

  At the same time, a metallic heel passed where his head had been a second earlier.

  “Whoa!” Inui cheered when he saw Kugi flying through the air in an unusual roundhouse kick. “Now that’s what I’m talking about!”

  In stark contrast to Inui’s enthusiasm, Kugi was as stoic as ever. He said only what was necessary.

  “Hand over the data. The Western District will take care of the rest.”

  Kugi must have left the questioning to his friends in black. Inui could say with confidence that the usual Kugi never would have chased him down alone to pick a fight.

  That action spoke for the unspeakable enmity Kugi held for Inui. An enmity that surpassed all reason and emotion. Inui, knowing that, embraced the challenge.

  “Sorry, but the Eastern District’s placed a pretty high bid on this baby. If you want it, you’re gonna have to talk to Gitarin.”

  “I don’t intend to buy the info. I just have to take it by force.”

  Kugi kicked the ground with the tip of his right shoe. A short blade popped out of the end.

  “Wait! Hold it! Where’d you get those shoes?! Don’t tell me you made ‘em?”

  Ignoring Inui’s question, Kugi kicked straight at his enemy’s neck.

  Inui narrowly avoided the knife and provoked him, incredibly amused.

  “If you kill me, you’re gonna lose that data you need! And even if you don’t wanna kill me, we should still solve this peacefully! Cause we’re humans, and humans are all about love and peace…so eat this!”

  Inui kicked off of the edge of the fountain for a heel drop.

  His heel grazed Kugi’s coat as the latter stepped back, slicing the sturdy fabric with a loud noise.

  Kugi rolled and jumped forward, kneeing Inui in the gut.

  “I just have to incapacitate you and ‘negotiate’ until your fingers are gone.”

  Inui just managed to block Kugi’s knee and leapt back without a second thought.

  And when he heard Kugi’s threat, he decided to chat in the middle of their battle.

  “Whoa, talk about freaky. Come to think of it, that happened in real life a while back. Somebody kidnaps a girl and sends her fingers to her parents…so you’re one of those people?”

  Inui dodged a flurry of kicks as he pressed a metaphorical trauma switch.

  “So you’re the type who likes killing little girls! Just like the childhood friend you shot.”

  It was a painful jab.

  If Kugi were the person he had been a few years ago, he would have flown into a rage.

  But he was immune to such provocation now.

  His face twitched, but not enough to alter his expression.

  He simply continued to alternate between trying to strike and cut Inui.

  Inui evaded the attacks with ease, keeping a close eye on his foe’s movements.

  And in the span of a second, he lashed out with a roundhouse kick. Kugi blocked it; but the trick was enough to separate them.

  Rather than catch his breath, the mad dog asked a question.

  “Not gonna use your gun?”

  There was a fair distance between them.

  Whoever drew first could kill the other with ease.

  But neither dog even tried.

  “You had time to change magazines. You had time to grab a gun from one of the goons. But you’re not using a gun.”

  “…”

  “Is it cause you don’t wanna risk killing me? No. This might be a buffer zone, but the Western District’s stronger here. Even if you used a suppressor there’s enough people around that someone’s gonna hear it. And once they report the gunshot, you’re finished. And the Buruburu lady passes by here all the time. In other words—”

  “Yes,” Kugi said before Inui could even finish, “Guard Team aside, Kuzuhara would be a pain to deal with.”

  “Look at you! Getting more honest by the day.” Inui grinned, cracking his neck.

  Kugi took a stance, ready to counter—

  But at that moment, countless footsteps surrounded the fountain.

  That was followed by a gunshot, but naturally, neither dog had even drawn his gun.

  “Don’t move!”

  They turned to find about 20 goons dressed like the ones from before, surrounding them with guns at the ready. The man at the center of the group was holding a smoking handgun, which he seemed to have shot at the air as a threat.

  “More? We’re a couple months too early for field trip season,” Inui snickered. Kugi silently observed his surroundings.

  The man at the center of the group took aim at the dogs and clicked his tongue.

  “Pieces of shit. You’re gonna be screaming for momma before I’m done with you.”

  “Pfft. You’re sounding like a third-rate villain.” Inui smirked. The man grew noticeably impatient.

  “Shit must be leaking outta your brains if you don’t get what we’re gonna—”

  “That’s my line.” Inui sighed, and grinned. “You don’t know what opening fire here means.”

  “What?!”

  “You just might get lucky enough to see the legendary superhero of the island personally blocking bullets with his bare—”

  But Inui was cut off by a sudden noise.

  BRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRM.

  The distinctive roar of engines.

  “Huh…?”

  It sounded like the growl of a predator. Inui’s eyes widened, but he quickly turned to Kugi and said under his breath,

  “That was fast.”

  As if on cue, the fountain area greeted a new player.

  A fierce but lovely kitten wielding a pair of massive claws.

  Inside a certain warehouse.

  “…So the women charged in and took out the rest…and then these men in black and another gang beat the team to a pulp…”

  “…Women?”

  “Y-yeah. First it was a girl holding a chainsaw in each hand—apparently moved like lightning—and then it was a woman with a katana, and a girl who said she was a detective…”

  The man reporting to the boss was already lost in despair.

  His eyes were brimming with frustrated surrender. The boss noted the emotion and chuckled.

  “Hah hah hah…”

  “Agh…”
<
br />   The subordinate froze, remembering what had happened just earlier.

  But a second later, an old-fashioned ringtone sounded from the boss’s breast pocket.

  The boss hadn’t replaced the default ringtone on his phone. He pulled it out and pressed the call button, withdrawing his smile.

  “Hello. …Yes. Yes…”

  The subordinate breathed a sigh of relief at the fact that someone had called, and at the fact that the boss had taken the call.

  The other subordinates must have felt the same, but nevertheless no one would want to be in his shoes. The tension remained in the air, continuing to wrap around them.

  “Of course. I will.”

  Several minutes later, the boss hung up and slipped the phone back into his pocket.

  Then, he sighed loudly.

  “The audience wants another round of ‘justice’,” the boss said with a hint of respect, standing from his chair. Then he looked over his subordinates. “Forget Inui. We need to get to work.”

  “B-but boss! We can’t pull this on the island now!”

  “We’re not doing this on the island.”

  “Huh?”

  They must have been talking about some job, but there seemed to be a misunderstanding between the boss and the subordinate.

  “We’re doing the job here. In the basement. Doesn’t matter if it’s a bad guy or not. This time, we’re going to listen to our audience—bring in a woman or a kid. Doesn’t matter who.”

  “But boss, isn’t that a bit much?” One of the subordinates interjected with a frown. He knew what the ‘job’ entailed. “Women, maybe, what are we going to blame a kid for?”

  “We’ll figure something out. The audience knows anyway. They always have. Our audience treats us like champions of justice, knowing the subjects aren’t really villains.”

  The boss grinned, then, and gave his orders.

  “Contact our insider by boat. Come straight here tomorrow once you find an easy target. And don’t touch the ‘tourists’. Even if we talk our way out of a police investigation, the audience isn’t gonna like it.”

  “R-right, boss.”

  “Right. Once we bring the target to the mainland, we win. Doesn’t matter if Inui or some other freakshow tries to pull something…they can’t do shit off the island.”

  -Continued in Episode 5-

  Episode 4: Lips x Lips

  The Case of Jun Sahara - 1

  The theme park office in the Eastern District.

  “What is it that the Eastern District lacks? Love!”

  A cry of romance echoed through the lonely theme park.

  “…Don’t you agree, friends? I think this is the perfect opportunity for a mass confession. Let’s get started!”

  The suggestion—accompanied by a clap—came from the most laid-back and scheming busybody in the Eastern District.

  The Guard Team members gathered in the room responded to their boss’s proposal with a resounding silence.

  “Poor boss…he’s finally lost his mind…” Carlos finally spoke, shaking his head. Zhang offered a pointed correction.

  “He lost his mind years ago.”

  “We lack love? Says the guy who walks around with a hot babe on each arm…”

  “Boss, reciting pi should help you get your mind back in order. Let’s start with 3.1415.”

  “Who cares about the digits? Three is more than enough.”

  “Impossible! 3 times the diameter isn’t a circle—it’s a hexagon! Here, I’ll show you. …Now, a hexagon is is a collection of six equilateral triangles with each side equal to the length of the radius. So in the end, it fits right into a circle with the same radius!” The man explained, taking care to draw diagrams on the office whiteboard. The other members nodded in understanding.

  “I see. So that’s why pi is bigger than 3.”

  “Aha!”

  “Who’s the idiot who said 3 was enough?”

  “You don’t even need to learn the digits—we can just call it π!”

  As the conversation degenerated, the man at the head of the group frowned.

  “Ahem… Team? Why are you more engrossed by pi than my opinions?”

  “Don’t get your knickers in a twist. We’ll pretend we didn’t hear any of your stupidity.” Said Greatest Zhang, the underground pro wrestling champion. He cracked his joints menacingly as he slowly stood. “Local punks have been going missing or getting brutalized recently. And of all things, you’re saying we’re lacking love?!”

  “…Uh. Well…”

  “Vigilance, am I right? You were going to say we lack vigilance. My ears’ve been going recently, boss. I thought I heard you say we lacked love. Almost snapped off your cheekbones there, jackass.”

  Zhang approached the boss, looking ready to snap his spine more than his cheekbones. Gitarin nervously averted his gaze.

  “I question the use of the word ‘jackass’ in the same breath as the word ‘boss’. And the…uhh…vivid imagery of snapping my cheekbones is also a minus in my book for the terror factor. I think you lack any sort of love or respect for your superior.”

  “Fuckingsonovasoccerjackass—”

  “Hey, that’s an insult to soccer loveeeeeeeeers?!”

  Zhang strung up Gitarin in a Neck Hanging Tree.

  “You’re supposed to be a mob boss, goddammit—what kinda gangster goes around saying we need more love?!”

  “Heh…heh heh… Every villain who underestimates the power of love is doomed to die by love. That is the unspoken rule of the world, and I don’t want to die yet! Therefore, the rabble gathered on this island should work together for loooooooooooooo— Ithoughtyouweregonnaletmegothatwasprettycoolright—”

  “It’s people like you who turn into dictators who wage wars over women. So I think this is a good time for you to die. You can apologize to your future victims in the afterlife.”

  “Grrrrrk! I—can’t—breathe—uncle—uncle!”

  The two women who were supposedly his lovers watched their boss turn blue and giggled.

  “Don’t just stand there and watch—aaaaaargh—”

  But the Guard Team ignored the everyday scene and chattered as they always did.

  “Let’s get to work.”

  “Uh-oh. Mr. Take sent a message asking for us to pay off our tab.”

  “He’s gonna throw his knife at us if we go in without money again.”

  “…zzz…”

  “Ahahaha! Mr. Gitarin? Love? Hah hah hah hah! That’s crazy! Hee hee hee hee hee heehahahahahahaha! Ahahahahahahaha! This is a riot! I’m dying here!”

  “A little late for that reaction.”

  “Apparently Inui’s going crazy again.”

  “Against a bunch of newbies from the mainland. He’s got this.”

  “Mainlanders? Let him kill ‘em.”

  “That’s scary, Mr. Gen.”

  “Nothing good comes of messing with mainland gangs.”

  The conversation shifted topics, slowly erasing the boss’s foolishness from their memories—

  “S-sorry I’m late!”

  The door opened and someone stepped inside.

  She was a sweet-looking young woman whose bangs covered her eyes.

  She had fair white skin, but her long, slender arms did not look particularly frail. She wore a stylish leather suit jacket and pants, along with a light T-shirt. Because the jacket was worn open, hints of her attractive curves were exposed to the world.

  “Ah, Jun! Perfect timing!”

  Gitarin’s eye glinted as though he had been rescued by an angel. He squirmed out of Zhang’s grip and hid himself behind his lovers before addressing the woman with hidden eyes—the captain of the Guard Team.

  “Listen here, Jun! These people have been just terrible today. They surrounded me and took out a bunch of sporks! Tried to shove them into my eye sockets and pop! Pop! Can you believe this?!”

  “Wh-what?! Everyone!”
Jun gasped with a shudder.

  “We did not!” Zhang replied, glaring at Gitarin. “Son of a three-legged anemone. Enough of your bullshit.”

  “‘Son of a three-legged anemone’? …Anyway.”

  Gitarin regained his composure, though he remained sheltered behind his lovers. With a relaxed expression and voice, he turned to Jun.

  “I need you to take responsibility, Jun! As the captain of the Guard Team!”

  “M-me?” Jun stammered.

  What came next dropped her already-confused thoughts straight into a maelstrom of chaos.

  “The answer is love! I need you to start loving!”

  “L-love? Wha…?”

  “‘I love you’! ‘Wo ai ni’! ‘Anata wo aishiteiru’! Come to think of it, the ‘ai’ sound is in the phrase in all three languages! That’s incredible! Which is why you should confess. Perfect!”

  “C-confess…?!”

  Question marks popped over her head in rapid succession and disappeared.

  That was when her boss made an absurd suggestion.

  “I’ve called Inui over, so confess your love to him.”

  The Case of the Detective Siblings - 1

  The Private Eye Lizard, a detective agency in the Western District.

  The office was in an abandoned hotel in the Western District.

  At the door of a certain hotel room was a sign depicting a chubby lizard that resembled a tsuchinoko with adorable round eyes. It was a poor fit for the artificial island, where criminals and outlaws roamed free. Then again, the agency itself—a forcibly renovated hotel room—was no better a match for the world around it.

  A detective agency.

  The hotel room had all the hallmarks of a detective agency, and then some.

  Before the window on one of the walls was an old wooden desk and a leather armchair. In front of that was a sofa for clients and a glass coffee table, complete with ashtray. On the desk was a huge mess of documents, but most of the papers were suspicious flyers handed out on the island or leaflets advertising strange religious groups.