Corpse March

Chapter 38 Black Lettuce

It’s a slow morning. All mornings have been slow since the war between Barrakuda and Girls Won’t Cry ended. Even before the deathblow she dealt Girls Won’t Cry, counter-terrorism and police work has just been a lot less pressing than her usual work. Usual work. It still doesn’t feel like she’s moved on from it, it feels more like this is just a quick break, and soon it’ll all come crashing back down. 

Kazuko slowly sits up, wipes her face down, and gets up. Her pajamas and sleeping hat, which is a thing that she wears, are wrinkled to hell and back. Which makes sense considering the dream she just had. Fighting back zombies with foam guns, not exactly the most pleasant but strangely exciting. 

Alright, that’s enough doing nothing. She heads to the bathroom and takes a shower. Less to be clean and more just trying to wash off the sleepiness from her head. When she’s done, she eats her usual breakfast of a bowl of  leftover miso soup mixed with some leftover rice. 

She eats in the hybrid kitchen-living room of her apartment. A cramped area stuffed with a shoe rack, a folding table, monobloc chair, unused television,  stove, microwave, oven toaster, and a shelf filled with trading cards. 

At the very forefront of her shelf is a twenty thousand dollar card. Only a thousand of which were ever printed and it’s banned in nearly every game format. Does she play the format it’s not banned in? Nope. She just thinks it’s neat. That, and it’s a status symbol to a very very small niche of people.

In spite of her paycheck, this tiny-ass, dingy-ass, yee-yee-ass apartment really is the only place she can afford to rent if she wants to maintain her card collection. All thanks to the borderline extortionate business practices of the company that owns them, of course.

While she eats, she takes out her smartphone, a model from three years ago, and flicks to a particular contact. She relies on her muscle memory to parse through the near endless list of people. Most of them are Barrakuds soldiers under her command but she’s not looking for them, she searches for the one person still above her. She hesitates before clicking on ‘call’.  

“Whaddaya want?” Her boss’s voice is straight to the point. She doesn’t want this phone call to be happening and neither does Kazuko. 

“Listen, teach, I don’t like it either but I gotta call in a favor.”

“Of course it is. Always with the personal shit with you.” Kazuko doesn’t really know when she starts tuning out the raining heap of bullshit but by the time it’s over, she’s finished her soup. 

“It’s personal. I, uh… I need to get to the…” She gulps. “The Neo Magical Academy–.”

“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAhahaha ha  ha   ha… hah.”

“Are you finished?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Are you going to lend me a hand, or what?”

“Eh? Now why would I do that? Me and the rest of the Merc Union’s got both the UN and the Monarchs dancing on our laps for that kinda info. Gimme one– no, two good reasons I should tell you.”

“Number one, you don’t like me. Number two, I don’t like you. Tell me and I resign from Barrakuda.”

“Deal.”

“...really, that’s it?”

“I think you severely underestimated how poorly we get along.” 

“Uh-huh, and what will the other Union heads say?”

“They don’t know shit.”

“And if I spill it to the UN? Or the Monarchs?”

“Nah, you won’t. You’re smart enough not to. I know you enough to know that at least.”

“Hmph.”

“Anyway, I got you a guy.” 

“That quick?”

“Both the Monarchs and the UN are looking for the Neo Magical Academy  with their satellites and their scouting parties and whatever else they can get their hands on. That’s fine and all, but there’s a reason why I know where it is and they don’t.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Do you know what you’re supposed to do when you’re stuck with a question you can’t answer, Kazuko?” She pauses, presumably for that dramatic effect that she loves so much. When there’s no response from Kazuko, she continues. “When you’re stuck with a question you can’t answer, you ask for help. Ask enough people for help, and you’re bound to find what you’re looking for.”

“I see… And who exactly should I ask?”

“Her name’s Seiko Tanaka, she’s reportedly from the Neo Magical Academy. To get to her, you’re gonna have to ask Gonbee Yamagishi, he works the day shift at Chastity’s.”

“Chastity’s still up? I thought the suits shut all our places down.”

“Not everything. I’ve still got this ace in the hole making some extra cash on the side.”

“How’d you keep it?”

“I asked.” She imagines the boss shrugging on the other side of the phone. “What else is there to say?”

“Chastity’s, huh? Thanks again.”

“Yeah yeah, whatever. Just get out of my hair.”

By the time she hangs up, Kazuko’s already throwing on her work clothes. That is to say a pair of slacks, a dress shirt, a black half-cape that hangs over her left shoulder, and of course, Sasori, her rapier. 

An elegant weapon that’s remained straight and true over years of combat with an elegant basket hilt that’s remained steadfast against even the most brutal of blades. There are arcane sigils carved into the hilt. Most of them are for strengthening and lightness, the rest are for good luck. The latter don’t really work, but she likes to believe they do and that’s enough. 

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Kazuko takes a left and delves into a maze of back alleys. Daylight means nothing to this place. For every ray of sun that tries to pass through, there is a concrete building in place to block it. All that remains is a labyrinth of shadow. 

A right, a left, then two more rights. It starts to feel like the alleys might go on forever but once she makes the last right, she comes to a dead end that has only a single defining feature. A back alley door and a dingy neon sign that says ‘Two For One Friday’. Kazuko sighs. It’s a great deal, and great deals mean lots of customers, and lots of customers mean lots of witnesses. Or lots of collateral damage, if it comes down to it. 

She pushes open the door. Immediately, she’s greeted with the eardrum-shattering bass of some off-brand instrumental. There are stairs that lead deeper into the pleasure house’s entrance. She walks down them. With every step, the musk of sweat and alcohol fill her nose more and more. At the very bottom of the stairs wait two scantily clad boys more or less her age. They both wear cat ear headbands and matching fur underwear. 

“How much for a night?”

“Twenty-seven thousand yen, ma’am.”

She hands them both large wads of ten thousand yen bills, the better part of her self-allotted weekly allowance. 

“Here. Two week’s worth of your pay. Treat yourselves to a vacation. Or an education, either or.”

The two look at her, shocked, but Kazuko’s already moved on to the rest of the pleasure house. The percussion-heavy music only gets louder and louder the deeper she goes. Wherever she looks, she’s greeted with the sight of attractive men and even a few women.

Some of the selection look younger, some older, some thinner, some have a little more chunkiness but that’s all superficial. At their core, they’re all equally desperate. Only the desperate would ever sign onto a pleasure house, especially a Barrakuda pleasure house. Whether they got what they wanted from this place or not is irrelevant, Barrakuda’s probably never ever going to let them walk away from this place. She feels a twinge of pity for them.

She tries to distract herself, focusing on the building itself over the things happening. The whole place has a tacky Chinatown feel. Red lanterns cast a miasmatic red light from the sides of the room, making it feel like it’s nighttime even though the sun’s still out.  Eventually, she bumps into something. The counter.

“Here to spend the night?” A boy that looks both too young to be working in a place like this greets her. Unlike all the others who wear next to nothing, he’s wearing a classy bartender uniform as he fixes up Kazuko’s complimentary cocktail. 

“I’m looking for Gonbee. Gonbee Yamagishi.”

“I’m very sorry, Gonbee is currently taken–”

“It’s urgent.” Kazuko leans in and speaks, as slowly and as clearly as possible. “Barrakuda sent me.”

The host gulps. She’s invoked Barrakuda’s name. Only the foolish and the insane go against them. Thankfully, the host is neither. “I will call him down. Just a moment.”

Kazuko raps her fingers along the rim of the cocktail glass, letting the soft chimes ripple through her bones even if she can’t hear them. She even takes a sip once the host assures her that it’s non-alcoholic. It has a cool, silky sweet flavor to it. Like menthol gliding along her tongue. After a moment of waiting, she sees a wiry boy about her age with distinctly feminine features walk down a set of stairs and approach her.

She downs the rest of her cocktail. “Gonbee?”

“Madame.” He takes her hand and kisses her knuckles. “What may I do for you this evening?”

“Where is Seiko Tanaka?” 

“Seiko Tanaka? How would I know?”

Kazuko’s instincts flare up. Something about the way he said ‘How would I know’ sounded just a little too defensive. This boy is definitely hiding something. “I’ve come to know that she’s your best customer. Surely, you would know something about her whereabouts.”

“I’m very sorry to inform you that the time we spend together is purely for business. In truth, we speak very little, almost not at all, in fact.” 

“...You’re a terrible liar, Gonbee.”

He says nothing, but the sweat on his face tells Kazuko all that she needs to know.

“Here’s what’s going to happen now. You’re going to be a good boy and lead me exactly to where Seiko is. Okay?”

“...”

“Okay, Gonbee?”

“Fine.”

“Good. Good.” She claps him on the shoulder just a little too hard, making absolutely sure that he doesn’t have any doubts about who’s in control here. 

“But let me get changed first.”

“Very well. Make it quick.”