Jin stared at the pile of rubble that was Takeo’s former abode. He could almost picture the actual structure that’d been here once, made mostly of bamboo and standing on stilts to protect it from floodwaters. It was a humble place, built to house only a single person, whose wealth could be counted with one hand. And yet, Jin could not help but grimace at the lingering remnants of happiness and contentment that still clung to the ruins. Powerful memories were imprinted upon the place, upon the very rock that propped up the stilts of the bamboo house. Even the hollowed shell of Takeo’s soul in Jin’s collection seemed to thrum as he took a step forward towards the rubble.
Jin ignored the furious bubbles of emotions and memories that gripped the place and, instead, focused on finding the dagger that bound him.
Truth be told, Jin was planning on ignoring his side of the bargain for as long as he could, only honoring the word of the deal when he had to. But, after finding out the truth about Takeo’s circumstances, Jin could not help but feel… guilt. Yes, that was the word – foreign, alien, and wholly unwanted. Cursing Takeo’s treacherous former lover hadn’t done the trick of ridding himself of the uncomfortable feeling; the woman crawled and cried and begged and wailed in sorrow and still it was not enough to thwart the heft within him. Her anguish fed him well enough, but it felt like an empty meal – delicious and decadent, but with no real substance underneath.
His eyes saw through the rubble of wood and stone, gazed over all of Takeo’s former belongings, a single bed made of straw, sculptures carved from stone and sketches of a warm and loving family – Takeo’s fond memories of a distant and long abandoned childhood. The dagger was located at the center of the ruins, buried underneath a ton of wood and stone, a simple, but masterfully crafted weapon that had taken more lives than Takeo could’ve ever realized; the Adamantium blade bore the scent of blood and death, and a faint, but powerful, residue of the blood magic that gave it its shape.
Jin held out his right hand and, with a brief exertion of his will upon reality, pulled the weapon out of the rubble. It burst out of the broken bamboo and settled in his open hand. Its physical heft was light, but all the lives it’d taken and the blood it’d spilt had granted the weapon a metaphysical weight that bled into reality, altering its properties by just the tiniest amount, honing its edge so that even steel would bend to it; mortal craftsmen would refer to such a thing as a Natural Enchantment, a process that often took centuries to even begin and centuries more to fully develop. The dagger was old; Samira, the woman in Takeo’s memories, was not the first to carry it to battle. It’d been passed down over the generations, from one warrior to another, teacher to student.
With a snap of his fingers, Jin sent the dagger to his cart; the weapon blinked out of his hands.
He sighed and glanced around. Takeo’s home had been located near the farm of his treacherous beloved, just outside its immediate boundaries; the man was introverted enough to build his house far from the other farmers’ homes, wanting peace and quiet more than social interactions. The man was happy in his loneliness, which was a weird thing, since most humans craved the presence of others.
“Right, what was I doing here?” The sun was rapidly setting. He’d spent far too much time wandering around and not causing anyone any pain and eating the souls of mortals. Old Man Gaunter would be disappointed in him.
Jin shook his head. At the very least, the feeling of guilt had abated somewhat. My business is done here; I should return to the city, eat a few more souls, and move along.
With but a thought, Jin willed himself back into Choza, appearing beside Lok, the demon general mule, who was still sleeping beside their cart, dreaming of home and the screams of the damned.
They were deep in the merchant district, having rented a spot to sell his wares as well as prop a tent up to rest for the coming night. The city was still abuzz, but not with the hustle and bustle of life beneath the sun; no, every city had a different face when sunlight faded and a blanket of stars and darkness came rising overhead. Already, Jin noted several Oiran walking about in the streets, doing their best to woo and charm the locals and foreigners alike, which worked for the most part; many of the town’s inhabitants were already in the throes of passion and pleasure, mixing both pleasant and unpleasant emotions and, for most, creating a downward spiral that gravitated towards the negative stuff that smelled and tasted so delicious.
Untamed and uncontrolled lust was a gateway to a rare sort of anguish that most mortals wouldn’t notice; the pain of having to live with an addiction to carnal urges was one of the many unseen sources of sorrow that plagued humanity in general, including Mages and Cultivators, who were not above the pleasures of the flesh. It destroyed families and homes, ruined the relationships of husbands and wives – an insidious destroyer that perpetuated itself most of the time, creating a cycle of that jumped between pleasure and self-hatred that was almost impossible to escape.
Jin smiled as he breathed in all the negative emotions in the air, filling up his reserves quickly, before plateauing due to a lack of more souls to act as batteries; he needed more and this town was just filled with people who were willing to sell away their very lives just for a brief brush of pleasure.
The night was young. And there were plenty of foolish souls to devour.
And so, his hunger returned, Jin wandered out into the innocent city, Choza, reeking of the sweet scents of sin, despair, and debauchery.
Jin breathed in the night air and grinned. He could almost taste the depravity that gathered around one spot in particular, a soul that would be a very fine addition to his collection. “My, oh my… humans truly are the most delectable of prey.”
His first stop was definitely going to be the governor’s pleasure palace, where the old, bloated toad relieved himself with the flesh of innocent children, boys and girls alike. Jin had no need for the underdeveloped souls of younglings, but the governor’s soul would be a fine treat. As a connoisseur of finer tastes, it would be a great sin to let such a delicacy just pass him by. Even better was the fact that Choza’s dear governor was not alone. Oh, there were many with him, rich merchants and decadent nobles engaging in their baser instincts. The children, as Jin looked into their heads, were the sons and daughters of vagrants and beggars.
He didn’t care much for them, not really; their suffering fed and nurtured him. But ensuring they all grew into proper adults to then devour was just common sense.
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And so, Jin drifted into the night, melding into the darkness of humanity.
…
The morning came smoothly, giving way to the cool silence that was the dawn, a time when most of the city remained blissfully asleep and unaware of the things that went bump in the night. And then, within a few, wee hours, came the first scream of many. It was soon followed by another and another and another, echoing in the silence; soon enough, major parts of Choza came to life with fear and panic as more and more screams joined the chorus.
A crowd gathered in the governor’s seat of power, drawn by the screams and the noises that echoed outwards.
Jin, of course, joined the crowd, just barely hiding his smile as he watched the proceedings, the fun part.
A woman ran into the open, clutching the shriveled head of her dear beloved, eyes shrunken and hollow, mouth hanging agape in a silent scream. She held up the head. Her eyes were wide and manic and filled with fear, streaked with dried tears and the remnants of her makeup. And then, she screamed, “SOMEBODY KILLED MY HUSBAND AND HIS GUESTS!”
It took a few moments for the citizens and guards to recognize her as the governor’s wife and that the head she was holding in her hands, indeed, belonged to their leader. And then, there was uproar as the people rushed into the governor’s palace, just barely held back by the guards who did their best to maintain order and dignity. The shriveled bodies of four others were brought out, each one in a similar state of undress. The people quickly recognized them as the four most influential and powerful in the city, aside from their beloved governor.
And then, they discovered the children, tried to beds, mutilated and defiled in ways most horrific to parents and decent folk; they were alive, at the very least.
From the crowd, Jin smirked. All it took to start an avalanche was to push the right pebbles down the mountain side. He whispered to the man beside him, “The rich will steal your children and do to them what they did to these poor babies.”
He whispered to the guards, “The governor was a detail-oriented man; he must have known about this, right? Perhaps, his personal documents and ledgers will tell us more….”
The whispers perpetuated themselves.
And then, the avalanche began. Jin took a step back and admired the pieces that fell, one by one.
What followed was uproar and outrage as the governor’s ill-deeds was revealed and made known to all. Several documents outlined the names of the children in their ‘inventory’, alongside the nobles and merchants who purchased them. The bloodbath came much later, when the ordinary citizens gathered in droves to drag the rich and powerful from their homes and out into the open, where they people proceeded to rip them apart.
Screams filled the streets, pain and terror echoing out into the open winds. Even the Cultivators in the city chose not to involve themselves in the slaughter that followed as rich merchants and pompous nobles were butchered by angry peasants, their skin ripped from their muscles, their limbs hacked apart, their heads torn from their necks, and their remains hung from atop their own decadent houses. It mattered not if they were involved in the rape of the children, all of the local aristocracy was treated the same.
Of course, none of this would’ve been possible without a little bit of glamour from Jin, who walked amongst the people, just another face in a crowd of hundreds. As the chaos reached an uncontrollable crescendo, however, Jin backed away; he was only there to give them a gentle nudge forward. The bloody, wrathful affair that raged on no longer needed his glamour to maintain its momentum; the people of Choza were drunk with rage, especially those with children of their own. Juzou, the depressed guardsman, surprisingly, was the one to take the lead.
Five souls in a single night; even Old Man Gaunter would be proud of him.
The governor’s soul was the easiest to take. In exchange for his immortal soul, the man, Kanzaki Abe, wanted to rule Choza for as long as he lived. His wish was easily granted. Jin granted him ten more minutes to continue his debauchery, before outright taking his soul; after all, he’d still be governor of the city for those ten minutes. The word of the deal was unbroken.
Next was Kanzaki Hotaru, the governor’s younger brother, who – in exchange for his soul – wished for his older brother’s death so that he could take over as governor. Jin gave him eleven minutes to live, before stripping him of his soul.
And then, there was Shiba Kiryu, a wealthy merchant who got rich off of the underground slave trade that ran the breadth of the Nihono Empire. The slave children they made use of were a part of the man’s personal inventory. While a low ranking member in the slave trade, Kiryu was nonetheless incredibly wealthy. In exchange for his soul, the man wished for a night with Princess Kaguya, the Emperor’s youngest daughter. And so Jin snapped his fingers sent the man into the Imperial Palace, right outside the princess’ room, still naked and very drunk; he was then promptly arrested by the princess’ personal guards, tortured and beaten, and sent to the dungeons to be executed. Jin then brought back the man’s grizzly remains and collected his soul.
Katawara Senjiro was an ambitious little miscreant of a noble with imperial dreams. He was a very distant relative of the Emperor – so distant that, while still wealthy, any hope of inheriting the throne was essentially nonexistent. The man’s inheritance amounted to a small castle just beyond the skirts of Choza. For his soul, Senjiro demanded to be placed upon the throne of the Nihono Empire. Senjiro’s choice of words was… poor. Nevertheless, he received his wish. And then, more or less, suffered the same fate as Shiba Kiryu.
The last was Elisaveta Lorachim, an exiled noble from the Empire of Vhis with some claim to the throne from a distant matrilineal line. Unfortunately for her, no one in her homeland was interested in supporting her claim; without supporters, Elisaveta was very easily exiled by the royal family. She ended up in Choza after many years of trying, and failing, to gather support for her bid to secure her claim to the throne. Despite her status as an exile, Elisaveta was still endowed with the fortunes of her family, allowing her to engage in debased activities, such as partaking in the innocence of children. Like all the others around her, she wished for her a throne. And received exactly what she asked for.
All five of their souls were utterly drenched in greed and lust, marinated in the sweetness of their suffering, their rage, and their despair.
They were… delicious and very filling.
Jin licked his lips as he and Lok made their way out of Choza. The seeds were planted. Soon enough, the city would drown in despair and anguish. And it would feed him, nurture him. The addition of five souls to his collection had greatly bolstered his abilities; he wasn’t any closer to Old Man Gaunter’s power, not in a million years, but Jin was getting there, one tiny step at a time.
Of course, with five souls in his arsenal, Jin was now capable of creating his own lesser demons, without sacrificing more souls; higher and greater demons were still beyond his power, but that would change in time. For now, he could only create Imps and Foul-Spawn, demons that fed on the dredges of negative emotions and nurtured said emotions by whispers and subtle nudges. Imps favored nurturing anger and aggression, while Foul-Spawn nurtured sloth and depressive laziness.
“Where should we go next, Lok?” Jin asked his demonic companion, who deigned not to give him a reply. “Fine, be like that.”
He glanced outwards at the open sky and breathed in the smells of nature.
Jin smiled, “I think I’ll visit Amekure next.”
At his back, the city of Choza slowly descended into madness and anarchy.