Several messages beeped continuously on my iPhone.
[Assignment 4445: Oiwa completed. Edo. Musashi. P]
[Assignment 4446: Hinoenma completed. Edo. Musashi. P]
[Assignment 4447: Iyaya completed. Edo. Musashi. P]
[Assignment 4448: Nikusui completed. Shima. P]
[Project 4449: Daija completed. Edo. Musashi. P]
And there are about a 25 of them repeating the same old three names. Oiwa, Hinoenma and Iyaya are my top ghost and yōkai for the jobs. Edo referred to the old name for the City of Tokyo, and Musashi was the old provincial name for Greater Tokyo.
To the covert surveillance officers of the Japanese intelligence, it probably looked like a list of historical projects on the yōkai. Or the business of the usual homework selling websites for lazy and rich students, which Shinde Inc. had a subsidiary in as a front. All above board.
Nikusui is a little unusual since she operated strictly in the mountainous areas between old Shima Province in Mie and Wakayama prefectures.
A vampire yōkai, stubbornly stuck in her ways, until she finally realised wearing the good old kimono was not the way to get jobs.
Next is to persuade her to move beyond her set location and explore new horizons in other Japanese prefectures.
I scrolled down further. The aggregated report on the business in China and Southeast Asia looks good.
Finally, the long-awaited message of the week made it.
[N code: 450M 3MC]
That's sweet. 450 million Japanese yen banked in just three months. The accountants in Hong Kong and Japan will be busy. If this goes on, double bonuses are in order for the top performers.
There was another thing on my mind. Kyoko still needed to make arrangements for the staff to train in the use of our recently acquired enterprise software. That would eliminate the need for a few hundred text messages on my iPhone each week.
Still better news than the disaster named Kouki.
*BRAPtufBRATuf*
"Kid, when you fire, you don't hesitate." Daija said firmly as he adjusted the kitsune's position.
Kouki is a half arsed shooter, even with a semi-auto pistol in the private gun range.
The paper target had more holes going through where the genitalia will be positioned. Along with a shot in the arm. Not the centre of the torso or the head.
At this rate, I wondered if any disgruntled housewives or mistresses would be interested in a castration service. There were suggestions for this service. Kouki could have a talent there.
Looking up, Sojobo was sitting with Tarobo at the other table. Tarobo is his Tengu relative from Mount Atago. Also a master in weapons. Both were shaking their heads in dismay and drowning their disappointment with the deadly Tengu liquor.
Kouki is good with sticks. Bad for us. Great for yakuza or their motorcycle gangs when they want to trash shops. Like smash windows.
Katana wise - that kitsune couldn't execute a proper slice on a melon held in place. Maybe he could open a fruit juice store. The melon was pulverised. Not sliced. That's not the point. A Katana is a guillotine, not a juice blender. His hand eye coordination is terrible.
Daija raised his eyebrow as Kouki absentmindedly turned back with the pistol aimed at Daija's foot. Daija quickly grabbed the pistol away.
I sighed.
The presence of the very last Tengu I wanted to meet in Kurama.
His telltale winged shadow fell on me. Who else but the only moron who likes spreading those Tengu wings wide, then making them disappear? The rest of the Tengu were more discreet, even indoors. Not showy or have the dominance thing going on in front of the more powerful elders. Kanamura hasn't even reached Daitengu status yet.
So much for Sojobo's word that he is being busy.
"Kanamura," Sojobo called out. "Come join us for a few drinks."
Kanamura, Sojobo's precious and eldest grandson, chuckled behind me with that velvet smooth tone. "How's my favourite snake?"
The old man was not trying very hard to pry this chewed up gum of a Tengu away from me.
"How's my most hated Tengu?" I asked as my hand slid the iPhone into the pocket.
The tall dark handsome Kanamura is also incidentally the biggest asshole of a yōkai I have ever met in my life.
Great at the double wielding sword technique - he is extremely deadly with both the katana and the shorter wakizashi. Might be a good teacher for Kouki, but a cunt, nonetheless.
The only reason for civility is Sojobo. Kanamura is his favourite grandson.
"Aw so sad doll face. I think of you all the time. You used to be so sweet, so innocent. I came to see you after such a looooong time. Why haven't you looked for me?"
Why would I look for a jerk like him? Sojobo deliberately kept him busy with their sake business branch in Osaka. I avoided him in Tokyo when he visited.
Centuries ago, Kanamura got me drunk on Tengu liquor and then brought me to his room for whatever proclivity he had. Humans have a term for it - 'attempted r*pe.' Yōkai justice can only be grasped within our powers.
The Tengu liquor, which he imbibed me with, worked against his favour. He was squashed by my larger true form of a serpent. He survived with just a broken wing. I would have broken two if Daija then had not stopped me from ripping off his other wing.
His whole room was demolished, along with his garden. He became the laughingstock of his fellow Tengu brothers when they found out the reason.
Oh no, that didn't stop Kanamura.
He became aggressive towards me, especially in training sessions. The more damage he did, the more I learnt. He used to slice me silly with the double sword technique. My blood used to soak the floors in the dojo of the Tengu. That training made me swifter, more pain resistant and far more coordinated.
Even the human boy, who trained under Sojobo at that time, felt sorry for me, enough to help me. That boy's name was Ushiwakamaru, who grew up to be a known general with excellent swordsmanship. He was from the Minamoto clan, a noble clan excluded from imperial succession.
Ahhh Ushiwakamaru. Too kind hearted, and naïve. I could foresee his tragic downfall. Betrayed by his ally, his death was ordered by his own half brother whom he had helped secure power for during the Genpei war. Sojobo with the nationwide Tengu network and some of us did our best to protect his only bloodline, a baby son which was to be killed then. Along with obtaining his severed head for proper burial rites.
Yeah, that was my first training in creating a believable song and dance about his 'son's death'. In 1185, that was easy enough to cover up despite the complexity of the set up.
That included invading the imperial court, impersonating court officials and a lot schmoozing along with the inbred royals during the last days of the Heian period.
Back in the day, procuring a freshly dead male baby for a replacement was easy because of the lack of birth control and a high infant death rate. Unlike now.
No damn computerised tracking system. No CCTVs. Ushiwakamaru still has descendants around in this century who aren't aware of their once deadly blood connection to one of the best human swordsmen.
Occasionally, I would visit Shirahata shrine in Kanagawa where his enshrined spirit is. Just around one hour and a half from Tokyo. The other gods there didn't mind the two of us having a chat about the good old days. As long as I got them some of the infamous Tengu liquor.
Only after death, Ushiwakamaru realised that I am yōkai when he saw my true form. We had a big laugh about it. Especially his mistaken belief of me being a helpless human female, Ushiwakamaru used to tag along to 'help' me against the big mean old Tengu, aka Kanamura. Righteous but dumb.
Come to think of it, that could be good to get Kanamura on Kouki's case. Kid had to learn how to be more aggressive. A bit of Kanamura's torture wouldn't hurt. It also depends on the level of angst held against me.
Such training will toughen that little kitsune up. If he survives.
"Busy with business," I replied with a sweet smile and pointed at Kouki. "Getting your granddad to train him."
"Didn't realize you liked those skunks," Kanamura said while smiling with his clenched fists.
"They are good…," I winked mischievously.
"Under training, huh? I can train him," Kanamura mumbled with that deadly glint in his eyes.
Trap set. Baited.
"If you kill my pet…," I got up to Kanamura and whispered into his ears, under Daija's watchful eyes. "I will be very sad. I might not, you know… return to Kyoto because… of the pain."
"Really, bitch, you survived my training to be what you are today. If this kitsune dies easily, he won't be good enough for your business."
Well, that's the sad but undeniable truth.