Book 1: Prologue

Book 1: Prologue

Those damn Filipinos were 40 minutes late already.

41 minutes now.

Kei Matoba glared at the clock in his car, clicking his tongue in frustration. Even though he was fairly lenient when it came to time, he couldnt believe that they had the nerve to run this late yet continue to walk at such a slow, carefree pace. A bystander wouldve thought that they were just taking a stroll.

Dont get so pissed off, chief, said Rick Fury, who sat in the passengers seat. Theyre the kind of guys that would show up late to their parents funeral. By getting angry, youre just gonna wear yourself out.

I get it. I get it, but

Muttering in displeasure, Matoba checked his reflection in the visor mirror. He wore a Versace suit with a light, glossy finish. His slick black hair was brushed back, and his facial features were sharp and defined.

He hadnt been home for two days already, and some stubble had begun to grow around his chin. His appearance resembled that of a broker, and just like the men that succeeded in that particular business, he dressed as if he were trying to mask the crudeness of his work by wearing expensive clothing.

I have plans to meet with someone after this.

With a girl? Fury asked.

Matoba paused for a moment to think about how to respond. He decided that it would be too much of a bother to explain what he meant, so he just went with it.

I guess, yeah.

Man, Im jealous. I havent had a proper conversation with my wife for an entire week now.

It really isnt anything to be jealous of. The closer we get, the more we end up hurting each other.

Fury let out a small groan and started laughing.

Nah, that kind of stimulation is great in a relationship.

It isnt great at all.

The troubles of young Kei Matoba, huh Lets go.

Ah, lets get this over with quickly.

Their dealer, the Filipinos, had arrived.

Matoba opened the car door and stepped into the dark alley. Fury followed after him, clutching the paper Subway bag that had been resting on his lap.

No one was around. The puddles left by the evenings rain were illuminated by the streetlights, casting a soft white glow. The main street was bustling with people, the shops still busy and lively, but back here, it was already deep into the night.

The two Filipinos were alone. They both wore t-shirts. One held an old-fashioned cassette player, while the other held a black Boston bag.

Matoba and Fury walked toward them.

The Filipinos stared at them suspiciously. Matoba had a large build with broad shoulders. Fury was skinny and had narrow shoulders. Their appearances contrasted heavily as they stood side by side.

So, youve got the money?

Not even bothering to greet them, the Filipino with the 5-0 shirt spoke.

Heh. Who the hell do you think you are, making us wait for an entire hour? I was shaking in my car, the cops could have shown up at any moment, said Matoba, keeping his hands buried in the pockets of his slacks.

Mister. Do you have the money or not?

Shut the fuck up. Did you bring the stuff? I only agreed to this deal because I heard that it was high quality. Now hurry up and show me it, you dipshits.

Hearing Matobas words, the other Filipino, the one with the peace sign t-shirt, reddened with anger.

Did you just call me a dipshit? Just now?

How many times do you have to hear it to understand? Thats exactly why youre a dipshit.

The man with the peace sign t-shirt glared at him viciously. Matoba glared back, unflinching. Sensing that they might get into a fight any second now, Fury cut in between them.

Come on, cut it out. Were here to do business. Stop this stupid argument and lets just get this over with.

Now all they had to do was drag the thugs into the car and drive back to headquarters.

But that was when things began to get very strange.

Clank. Hearing this peculiar sound, Matoba immediately swung around. The man with the peace sign t-shirt, somehow freed of his handcuffs, had violently latched onto Fury.

How the hell did he remove the handcuffs?

The answer was right there. His wrists were lacerated and blood-soaked. He had pulled his hands out of the handcuffs with brute force, ripping off his skin and cracking his bones in the process.

Ri-

It all happened too quickly. The man, who had been nothing but a puny thug up until that moment, closed his fingers around Rick Furys throat. And with the same level of force that he used to destroy his own wrists, he gripped down on it.

A muffled scream escaped from Furys throat. His neck bent at an unnatural angle.

RICK!

Matoba aimed his pistol at the man and fired without hesitation. The 9mm bullets dug deep into the mans skin, and he shuddered with each shot.

He had been pierced by three hollow-point bullets. But still, he did not fall. In fact, he didnt seem to feel any pain at all. He picked up Furys limp body and hurled it at Matoba.

!!

The body collided into him, carrying with it a force equivalent to that of a heavy sandbag flying through the air at dozens of kilometers per hour. He was launched backwards, into the wall. The impact forced the air out of his lungs. He felt faint.

The manno longer a man, but some being, filled with monstrous powerlooked at the two bags on the ground. He grabbed oneit was not the bag with the money that he picked up, but the one with the fairy inside.

Wai-

Wait. He couldnt get his words out through the excruciating pain that coursed through his body.

Doreena meta baderi na (You pathetic barbarian).

Glaring contemptuously at Matoba, the man with the peace sign t-shirt opened his mouth.

I zarte meyaj, zona bereeya nicoshe genna yargo iye noi. Zona zaneean biye genna nerai. Beezennari, noze daal fiel mezeda demameya reme noi agshika (My newly captured servant will not be defeated by those puny toys you have there. I will now take back this woman. She was destined to enter my possession from the very beginning).

He was speaking in Farbarnian, the language of those that lived on the other side. Those filthy scoundrels This Filipino must have been possessed. Gritting his teeth, Matoba raised his pistol once again.

Dont fucking mess around with me, you alien. Now put your hands up and get on your

The man stretched his lips wide, forming a smile.

It was a brutish, murderous smile, a smile that those thugs would have never been able to make even if they tried. His eyes glimmered with bloodlust. It was a look that Matoba had felt before, long, long ago. It reawakened within him a memory that should have been buried in the past, back during the war.

He was going to be killed.

As he came to this realization, the man with the peace sign shirt swung around. Letting out a faint growl, he ran off. The sound of splashing water could be heard as he kicked his way through the puddles. Eventually, he vanished into the darkness of the unilluminated alley.

Matoba tried to chase after him, but the pain in his body was so severe that he couldnt even stand up properly.

..

The other Filipinothe one with the 5-0 shirthad curled up into a ball in the corner of the alley, trembling uncontrollably. Gasping for air, Matoba shifted his gaze over to Fury, who had fallen over, onto him.

Rick

There was no response.

His spine crushed into pieces, Detective Rick Fury had met his end. His eyes were still open, but they showed no signs of life. Matobas loyal partner of four years had silently passed away, leaving no last words for him to hear.

It was supposed to have been an easy operation

And what about his wife, who he hadnt talked to for an entire week? What was he supposed to say to her now?

Rick Goddammit

Somewhere, off in the distance, he heard police sirens blaring.