Finding the tormented guardsman amidst the alcohol-ridden district of the city was easy enough. Juzou’s soul scent was one that stood out particularly well, due to the sorrow and anguish that lingered over it, a heavy and burdensome cloak. Food, wine, and women were probably the only reasons the guardsman still clung so hopelessly to life – that and his friends’ constant attempts at keeping him from killing himself every single time he did try. Bereft of any real reason to live, Juzou turned to debauchery to fill the emptiness of his heart and soul; it didn’t fill anything, not really, but it did help him to forget, even if the forgetfulness only seemed to last a wink.
And that was how Jin found him, buried in some woman’s chest, naked and snoring like a pig, red-faced flush, and reeking of alcohol. The Oiran was in a similar state of undress and drunkenness; the young lady, Jin found after taking a quick peek, was Juzou’s kin in circumstance. She’d lost her family in the aftermath of the battle between two powerful Cultivators, who cared nothing for collateral damage or civilian lives. Without a home and family, without a way to earn money for food, the young lady turned to prostitution and quickly found herself drowned by the sorrows and realities of such a life, which was how she ended up addicted to wine. Her name was Yua and, like Juzou who slept on her breasts, she longed for death, but was foiled each time she reached for it.
For a moment, Jin felt something stirring in his chest as he eyed the two humans, whose lives were naught but pain and misery; he wasn’t sure just what was stirring within him, but he definitely didn’t like it. Their souls smelled utterly delightful, perfectly seasoned and marinated, like sweet and ripe fruits, ready to be plucked and eaten. The way to both of their souls would also be relatively quick and simple; for Yua, a chance to see her family again, to relive her happiest moments with them. For Juzou, pretty much the same thing as the girl.
Still, he couldn’t do anything just yet, since they were both still fast asleep and wouldn’t be awake for a few more hours or so. Better to leave them alone for now and search for other prey, because there were plenty of lost souls in the city, ready to be reaped and devoured. However, it was early in the morning; the sun had just barely risen and most of the city’s inhabitants were still very much asleep in their homes. There were, however, a few places where rest was hard to find and only suffering and pain lingered.
Jin turned away from Juzou and Yua, remnants of something still lingering in his chest.
His next stop was the dungeons, located underneath the Mayor’s estate, a cesspit of misery and anguish that filled him up faster than he ever thought possible. Jin smiled, feeling the dread presence of his powers practically overflowing as he walked down the steps, imperceptible to all senses – natural or otherwise. Not even a master of Qi could perceive his presence if he didn’t want to be perceived. As he walked down the steps, Jin breathed in the smell of suffering, the wailing souls of the innocent sods, who were forced into this dark place for one reason or another. There were hundreds of them, locked together in filthy cells, where they shared in their misery.
Jin approached the nearest cell, his eyes piercing the veil of darkness that lingered about the dungeon. There were only a few people here, but – unlike the other cells – every single person within the dingy darkness was decidedly not innocent; one way or another, they were murderers, rapists, and serial killers. There were fifteen of them, locked together. It was a miracle they haven’t all killed each other in the time they spent here; then again, that would be very difficult in the dark of the dungeon.
He breathed in and frowned. Of the fifteen prisoners, only two weren’t resigned to their fates; the rest had long since accepted the darkness, their souls becoming naught but rotting things that were honestly inedible. Jin could eat their souls if he really wanted to, but that would be akin to a human being drinking sewage water. “Takamura Daisuke and Shimura Takeo; come to me… heed my voice. I have an offer for the both of you.”
Only the two would ever hear his voice or even see him. For that matter, Jin assumed the form of a divine being, manifesting differently for the two of them, based on their idea of what a god might look like.
Takamura Daisuke was a serial killer, who murdered several children in a bloody reign of terror that lasted an entire month, before he was finally caught by a Cultivator, who just happened to pass by when he was about to kill his tenth victim. His soul smelled absolutely delicious, marinated in pain and misery and suffering, further flavored by his murderous psychosis. And yet, beneath all of that, was a cold and rational mind that actually enjoyed killing, a rational mind that could’ve stopped the whole massacre if it cared to do so.
Shimura Takeo was a rapist who, while under the influence of alcohol, forced himself on the daughter of a local farmer. He was promptly arrested and dumped here. He woke up hungover, confused, scared, pained, and – upon hearing of his crime – remorseful. The man truly believed that he belonged here. Takeo was afraid of this place and afraid of his cellmates, but the belief that his being here was justice was the thing that kept his mind intact, after three years. His soul was different; Takeo wasn’t nearly as flavored or as seasoned as Daisuke, but he did have this sort of innocence that Jin counted as an exotic taste.
The two prisoners walked to the edge of their cells, made entirely of dried and tempered ironwood, and placed their hands on the edges and glanced outwards. Their eyes widened, even the madman, Daisuke, fell to his knees and prostrated on the filthy floor – fear and reverence flooded him and overwhelmed him. Takeo merely lowered his head, shame filling him to the depths of his soul. Jin grinned, but his grin went unseen.
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To Daisuke, he appeared as angry, vengeful deity, who’d arrived to finally smite him down for his sins – eyes like smoldering coals, great crimson wings, skin ablaze with malevolent flames, and a burning wakizashi in hand. To Takeo, on the other hand, Jin appeared as a stern, but just deity who gazed upon the world and judged harshly, but fairly; Takeo saw him as the absolute truth of law and justice, the balance that kept humanity from tipping over into chaos. The one thing they both shared was a deep sense of shame and unworthiness.
It was absolutely hilarious.
Jin had to physically restrain himself from barking in laughter.
Oh, he was going to enjoy eating these two.
He addressed Daisuke first; the madman’s soul would definitely be the more delicious of the two. “You have sinned against man and against your god, Takamura Daisuke; for your crime, your soul will be sentenced to oblivion to burn for all eternity. How do you plead?”
“I am guilty of my crimes, my lord,” Daisuke answered, not moving from his position on the filth-encrusted floor, where their urine and feces mixed and hardened. And then his head snapped upwards, revealing a cruel smile as his mind and soul shifted. Jin raised an eyebrow; this must’ve been the murderous personality that led to the murder of all those children. “And more; there’s tons of stuff they can’t trace back to me. The secret is eating the evidence.”
Ah, he was also a cannibal – nice.
Jin smiled. He didn’t need to actually make a deal to eat a mortal’s soul – not really. Sure, that was the most fun way to go about it, but the easiest and simplest way was to simply trick them out of it, through clever tricks and wordplay. As long as he received active consent, it didn’t matter; it didn’t even matter if said consent was informed or not, just that the human actively agreed.
By declaring himself guilty, Daisuke essentially made his soul free real estate.
Jin grinned. “Thank you for the meal!”
Before Daisuke could even react, his physical form flaked away into embers, leaving nothing but bones, his soul burning and screaming as it entered Jin’s gullet, becoming nothing more than a battery. Daisuke was the sixth soul. And the difference in power was immediately noticeable as the onrush of pain and suffering from the other prisoners quickly filled up the new soul in Jin’s collection. The whole thing happened outside of Takeo’s awareness of course.
Jin licked his lips and breathed in, ecstatic. “Ugh… that tasted good.”
Still, merely tricking people into giving up their souls was not nearly as fun as making deals and forging contracts. But, a soul was a soul and Jin was not one to turn down an easy meal.
He’d treat the other guy differently, though – mostly because his recent meal was just that good. So, because he felt good, Jin decided to treat Takeo differently, but not better – just differently.
Jin turned his attention to Takeo. “Do you believe yourself guilty?”
“Yes, my lord,” The young man answered in a shame-filled tone of voice. Tears streamed from his eyes and his heart beat rapidly.
“Do you have a last wish, before I take your soul, mortal?” Jin asked. For once, he felt genuinely curious about what the human might ask for. Would Takeo ask for a last meal? Would he ask for one last romp with an oiran? He didn’t know. He could look into the mortal’s mind to find out, but he didn’t want to. Where would be the fun in that?
“I… there is a dagger in my house,” He began. “It was given to me by a woman, an Adventurer from Vloknar, Samira… I think her name was. She told me that I should keep it to remember her by. Please, return it to her… and tell her that I am sorry for letting her down, for not being as strong as she wanted me to be.”
Jin raised an eyebrow. That… was definitely not what he expected from this. Who in the blazes was Samira, anyway? The name itself was not Vloknar; no, it sounded like a Vhisian name. Bah, it hardly mattered; the only thing that mattered was performing his end of the “bargain”, even if – by then – Takeo’s soul would already be in his collection. Jin took a quick peek into Takeo’s memories and searched; it didn’t take long to find the woman.
She was definitely not a Vloknar; her lack of facial tattoos and tribal marks were telling. A Mithril-Class Adventurer; how’d she end up in the ass end of the Nihono Empire? Mortals of her stature should be retiring in fine mansions, tended to by servants and thralls, and swimming in gold. Still, Jin memorized her features – bright red hair that ended right underneath her ears, taller than average height, light skin, emerald eyes, jet-black armor, a spear at her back and a dagger dangling from her waist.
For a moment, Jin was sorely tempted to ask Takeo just how in the blazes he came across this woman, but held off the questioning, since that was taking the fun out of things. And, really, it wasn’t important. While the last wish would bind him to give her the dagger, it wouldn’t bind him to look for her. So, as far as Jin was concerned, he’d only have to do his part of the bargain if he ever stumbled into the woman, which was unlikely, given her profession, which would take her from one ass end of the world to another.
With that in mind, Jin reached down and shook the mortal’s right hand. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”
Unlike Daisuke, Takeo’s soul was not so corrupted as to reduce his flesh to ashes when it left the confines of its mortal shell. Instead, Takeo merely fell to the floor, like a puppet with its strings suddenly cut. Jin slurped in the new soul – another battery. This one, however, left a bitter taste in his mouth – a new and wholly unpleasant taste. It almost reminded him of the dreadfulness of feeding on positive emotions, but it was also distinctly different, closer to the strange feeling he felt in his chest when he’d gazed upon the unconscious forms of Yua and Yuzou.
His eyes narrowed. What is this?
For a moment, Jin stood and wondered; just what was it that made Takeo’s soul different?
Jin shook his head and turned to look at the other prisoners. Quite a number of them smelled delightfully delicious. But then, he frowned. The lingering bitterness in his mouth killed whatever appetite he might’ve previously had. And so, feeling not nearly as chirpy as he was when he entered, Jin walked out of the dungeon. Some sleep, though ultimately pointless, might just do him some good.