Chapter One

Chapter One

The atrocity that occurred that night in a corner of Shinjuku was not by the city’s standards that big of a deal. According to eyewitnesses though, the beauty of the assailant exceeded not only that of a certain senbei shop owner in West Shinjuku, but the director of Mephisto Hospital as well.

On those qualifications alone, the perpetrator was destined to be forever remembered in the city’s history.

Three patrol cars were dispatched to the disco near Okubo station. Together with three additional SWAT members, the total came to nine. Three died inside the club. The remaining six were killed in the following melee outside.

According to the eyewitnesses, the assailant was “a woman whose beauty made the rest of the world pale by comparison.” And it took her barely twenty seconds to dispatch those police officers to the great beyond.

Several seconds passed between her appearance and the cops ordering her to raise her hands. Her beauty literally blinded them. There was a younger girl with her. The assailant told her to stand there and advanced on the police alone.

She was ordered to stop twice. And then they opened fire with handguns and shotguns and full automatics. The full, naked fury of the attack against this frail-looking woman was remarked upon by several witnesses.

“Just looking at her from the back was enough to set your hair on end.”

And no wonder. Forty-two shotgun blasts, 268 5.56 mm high velocity rounds, three full seconds of laser radiation—none of it had the slightest effect.

Standing in the withering barrage, the beauty didn’t budge an inch.

The carnage commenced thereafter. The evidence describing how six strong men met their maker was inconclusive to say the least. The reason—again, according to statements from those on the scene—was the woman moved so fast as to become invisible at times.

One witness recorded that, “It didn’t take three seconds after she moved her right hand.” Another said that, “It was over two seconds after she moved her left.” A third said that it was, “A couple seconds after she raised both arms.”

Based on this testimony—killing all in no more than three or four seconds by ripping their heads off—she must possess superhuman power or artificial limbs.

“She was covered in blood. I never would have believed blood could look so lovely. I could well imagine people becoming serial killers in devotion to her, simply in order to experience that sensation again.”

After the carnage was completed, she and the other woman left on foot toward Shokuan Avenue.

As they approached the ruins of Kio Shrine, shadows descended out of the darkness and surrounded Princess and Takako. Wearing body armor and laser goggles and levitation belts, their appearance brought to mind astronauts or industrial robots.

Bright beams illuminated the two from all directions, the light becoming a part of her own natural luster. The two continued on in the glare of the searchlights as if nothing had happened. Not even a blink.

Hovering two feet off the ground, the soldiers surrounding her didn’t move. The Demon Princess raised her right hand toward the large man directly in front of her.

“Wait,” said a thin but youthful voice above their heads.

Her fingers together, Princess jabbed her hand out in front of her. Not so much in a pique of anger or emotion, but rather a spur-of-the-moment action.

Armor that could withstand a 140 mm rocket crumpled like cardboard. Princess kept on going, clenching her right hand as she walked along, piercing the Adam’s apple of the operator inside, and pushing it out the back of the armored suit.

The electrical energy wrapped her hand like a glowing violet glove, then enveloped the dead soldier. She yanked back her hand. The armored suit collapsed on the ground, twitching in its death throes, twinkling here and there like a child’s sparkler.

“Wait. I’m Takeshi Jinnai, group leader of Joint Operational Forces under the Ministry of Defense Central Command.” He introduced himself without attempting to hide the awe in his voice. “General Bey thought we would find you here. The general wishes an audience with you.”

The Princess finally came to a halt and looked up. “Where are you?”

“Come along and you will understand.”

“I am not in a mood to waste time. Tell him this—an eternal punishment of fire and brimstone awaits the traitor.”

“How about serving up that punishment here first?”

The Demon Princess glanced at the three remaining armored soldiers. “It is all the same to me. Your move.”

The heads of the armored units sang out. The built-in laser cannons linked up and aimed at Princess’s head and chest. Three beams lit up her gossamer figure in a brilliant red light.

The black night and the pure white and the ruby red—inside the dazzling fusion, two more incandescent points blazed into being. A million times redder than the reddest flame.

The eyes of the Demon Princess.

Inside their armor, the sudden shock penetrated the depths of the soldiers’ brains. For a second, they froze. In that second, Princess flew at them, a mad demon dance through the moonlight. The slash of her slender hand divided the armored suit on her left from the head down to the waist and threw him at the soldier directly in front of her.

He didn’t have time to react as his colleague flew through the air at him. At the moment of impact, the suit disintegrated like a dry reed and the electromagnetic energy from its high-power battery pack engulfed both, killing them instantly.

The soldier on the right suddenly shot upwards, trying to flee from this accursed hand while continuing to fire. As Princess’s face absorbed the light, she brandished that hand. The luminescing energy reversed course precisely, penetrated the lens of the cannon, and shot off into distant space.

The armored suit reached an altitude of fifteen hundred feet before the helmet burned out, severing the cannon’s energy feed. It would be another hour before the levitation unit would exhaust its reserves. The summer night sky was all his until then.

“So the general wasn’t lying after all,” said the voice from the heavens. “Lieutenant Matthews said the same. But I could not imagine such a disparity in power. We only want a moment of your time. We have no desire to fight you any further. But if we could shift your attention in a different direction—”

Princess narrowed her eyes to slits. “A different direction?”

“The girl with you. According to General Bey, she is very important to you. And yet she has not been turned completely. Light off a tactical nuke here, and while you might be spared, she most certainly would not.”

Princess didn’t answer, and that was answer enough.

“We are currently hovering at an altitude of five hundred meters. It’d take a warhead a second and a half. You might escape the first blast, but the second and the third? I don’t think so. I’ll only say this—you appear to possess no compassion for the lives of others, but do not imagine yourself alone in that. We would happily incinerate this town in order to get to you.”

The Demon Princess looked back at Takako. The rage in her eyes at that moment made ordinary hatred look like love in comparison. And just as quickly cooled. Perhaps the face of a certain young man had passed through her thoughts.

“Fine,” agreed the four-thousand-year-old woman. Her voice could have turned the summer air to frost. “I shall go wherever you wish. But let me make myself clear. Take me to a place I do not wish to go, with purposes in mind not agreeable to me, and you will regret it. Or rather, you will not live long enough to regret it.”

A moment of silence followed. “Then we’ll make sure we don’t do that. Just to ensure that you don’t change your mind.”

Jinnai spoke in calmer tones, though the expression on his face remained a mystery. In any case, his name might well be recorded in the history books as the second person to twist Princess’s will to his own.

The patient was wracked by disquiet. The pain in his gut grew worse, but he hadn’t seen hide nor hair of the only doctor he could trust since the night before. Though he ended up being examined in the ER, the doctors were thoroughly unsympathetic.

“This is receiving for the psychic phenomena ward. A large-scale case of spiritual possession broke out at the remains of the Chuo General Hospital in the Hyakunin district. We’ve got our hands full. You’ll just have to wait until the hospital director and deputy director return.”

“Quit joking around! I’m in pain here! I’ve already been examined by every doctor who pretends to know something! That’s why I came here! Even talking hurts! Hurry up and do something about it!”

“I’m sorry, but there’s nothing else we can do. Like I told you, we’re shorthanded right now. Relax. Your life isn’t in danger. Nor will it be for the next day or two. But the people affected by this business in Hyakunin have their bodies and souls on the line. Hold on until tomorrow and I’m sure the director will be back by then. Do the best you can until then.”

“Where is the director?” the man shouted in exasperation. He moaned. “I had two needle-like objects extracted from my abdomen. But painkillers or hypnotism don’t have any effect on the pain and nobody knows why. The army hospital said it must be a spiritual or psychological malady and recommended I come here. You can’t just throw suffering patients out on the street. Wait until the press finds out!”

“The press outside Shinjuku,” the doctor said with unfeigned sympathy.

The philosophy at Mephisto Hospital stressed the patient above all other concerns. However, that meant patients with real, treatable sicknesses.

“I can understand if it hasn’t sunk in yet—but this city and Japan aren’t the same thing. The Japanese press and the Shinjuku press aren’t the same thing. The latter are much more cooperative when it comes to institutions such as this one.”

“That a threat?” the man blustered in a low voice. His ability to cow the toughest soldier hadn’t flagged in the least.

The doctor shrugged it off. “Mr. McRae, this hospital—” At that moment, the cell phone clipped to his sleeve vibrated and a green light flashed. He smiled. “Just a second. I believe we may have an answer for you. The wings of the night have borne Doctor Mephisto back to us.”

Several minutes later, Mr. McRae was lying on a bed in an examination room, about to be treated by the Hospital Director himself.

“I’ve looked at your charts,” said the most handsome doctor in the world.

His head was bowed, so unfortunately McRae couldn’t see him clearly. The hellish pains radiating through his abdomen magically disappeared whenever Doctor Mephisto looked him in the eyes.

Nevertheless, McRae felt as if a strange coolness, like an autumn frost, had wrapped its arms around him.

“According to your charts, on the other days the previous hospital removed several blonde nylon hairs such as those used in the manufacture of dolls.”

“Yeah. The other doc said that too. But I haven’t the slightest idea when or how something like that happened. I would have noticed it. I wouldn’t even be able to walk!”

“The cause aside, that the symptoms have not disappeared after being treated suggests not physical pain but a grudge, a curse, regrets. Is there anyone with reason to bear malice toward you?”

The calm, even voice made him shiver despite himself. “No. Absolutely nothing like that,” said McRae, shaking his craggy face back and forth. His vehement denials caused him so much pain that he had to bury his face in the sheets and clutch the edge of the mattress.

“The pain will soon go away. In any case, I have to wonder who treated you previously. He did a splendid job.”

“A hospital with connections to state security. I may not look it, but I am Japanese.”

“So you work for the Foreign Office. We shall admit you to the hospital presently.”

“No can do. And with that in mind, I’ve already overstayed my welcome. Whatever treatment I receive here today, it’ll have to be on an outpatient basis.”

“How about that—a patient with a lack of patience,” said Mephisto, displaying a sense of humor very much unlike him. He touched McRae’s stomach with his fingers. McRae drew in his breath sharply. “Does it hurt?”

“No. But your fingers are very cold.”

“I beg your forgiveness.” Mephisto withdrew his hand.

McRae’s blue eyes opened wide. “It doesn’t hurt at all! It’s like a dream!”

“Post-surgical care will not be required. If pressed to arrive at a diagnosis, I would say that you incurred the ill will of another.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. The Demon Physician is as good as his reputation. I’ve seen him perform a miracle with my own eyes. I’m really thankful.”

He shook Mephisto’s hand over and over, then got dressed and left. The door closed behind him and the examination room fell silent.

“A foreign member of Japan’s civil service,” Mephisto said to himself. “Stabbed by the golden hair of a doll. Whatever could he be in a hurry about?” He hit the intercom switch. “This is the director. What is the condition of the men who recently arrived here?”

“As you diagnosed,” answered the dean of internal medicine in a brisk, businesslike manner. He was a man whose opinion Mephisto could trust. “It appears to be severe blood loss.” He lowered his voice. “The customary examination revealed no unusual internal damage. However, the marks on their necks suggest a vampire attack.”

“The Toyama vampires are no more,” Mephisto said coldly. So the news about the atomic blast had reached his ears.

“These were recent wounds. Do you know of any other sources?” the dean asked softly. “We haven’t seen the victim of a vampire attack in this hospital for years. There are rumors about that creatures afraid of the sunlight are multiplying. A friend of mine at the police hospital says that a few days ago, a Kawadacho Rejuvenation Committee gangbanger was admitted, his body riddled with .357 Magnum and .45 rounds. And yet continued to live.”

“When the night comes, those are the kinds of rumors the wind carries with it. This is Demon City, after all.”

“That’s for sure.”

“I’ll leave them to your care.”

“Understood.”

Mephisto hung up and leaned back in the armchair. He looked up at the ceiling. With a flash of his ring, the lights dimmed. His comely countenance floated here in the dark. There were no doubt poets in this city who, passing by him on a moonlit night, would slit their wrists on the spot and write sonnets to his beauty with their own blood.

Gazing upon the pale physician now, what would such a bard have to say? The Demon Physician rested his hands on his knees and locked his fingers together and smiled and laughed softly.

A gentle, heavenly smile that showed a pair of white fangs.