20XX Osaka, Kansai Airbase Front terminal
Solomon stepped out of the main terminal; taking a deep breath to get a whiff of the air of Osaka Bay. Having spent most of his life inland of the states the humidity and smell were very new to him. Adjusting the duffle bag slung over his shoulder he followed the flow of other travelers to the pickup area. Giving a glance up he could see a plane making its climb to its cruising altitude, noting its escort of low-ranking angels flying on the flanks. Long-distance travel proved too dangerous without protection. Even the flight that brought him in was beset by a small flock of level one flying-type daemons, nothing particularly dangerous but a reminder why the Choirs and flying inclined spirits were needed if a plane wanted to make it to its destination.
“Thought we’d never get out of that customs office. I swear, these easterners insist on living life like the Incursion never happened!” Intoned a voice within him, Berith from the indignant tone it took.
Solomon glanced around to make sure no one would listen in. Replying in a low voice. “Beats the bureaucrats back home at least. Slant eye back there at least felt like he’s been through shit. Now, where’s our fuckin’ pickup?” Scanning the rows of cars and buses, he spotted a policewoman holding a sign over her head. The sign having his name neatly brushed in a blocky font gave him the impression that it was stenciled on. Giving a wave as he headed over.
As he got closer he noted the woman's features. She was shorter than him. Brown hair cut shorter in a way more similar to a boy’s than a woman’s nearly covered by her police cap. Uniform so neat and trim, she looked more at home on a poster than working the beat. She gave a nod as she tucked the sign under her arm as he approached. “Hunter Guild representative Solomon, correct?” She addressed in a slightly husky voice.
Solomon gave a nod, slapping his holster with a cocky grin. “That’d be me. Guessin’ yer one o’ mah handlers.” He said, invoking a hickish accent, though to his surprise she didn’t seem phased by it; simply nodding and giving a slight bow. “I’m Officer Aiko Murakawa, Community Policing Section. I hope we work well together.” Solomon noted that she gave her given name first. Points for being accommodating.
Looking over her head, he asked, “So where’s your ride? Cyborg back there told me y’all be driving me to town to look for a place.” Aiko’s composure seemed to crack as she got a flustered look, slowly as if in denial, pointing to a small Kei truck that was painted and marked as part of the police’s fleet of vehicles. A woman wearing the same uniform as Aiko, but less neat with black hair tied tightly into a bun under her cap waved, honking the horn and waving to get their attention.
Solomon could only give a look of utter incredulity. “You’re shittin’ me…”
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Solomon’s bag was stowed safely in the bed of the truck and he was in the passenger seat. Aiko was crammed in between him and the truck’s driver, Aiko’s partner, Seiko Tani, who seemed very content in humming the song on the radio as they drove down the bridge connecting the airport to the mainland. She stood half a head taller than her partner and her slight tan and laugh lines gave the impression she took life at a far more relaxed pace than Aiko. Solomon sat in silence as he looked out of the window; staring out into the bay as they drove.
“What ya thinkin’ bout so hard? You look like you’ve never seen water before.” He heard Seiko ask, her accent considerably thicker than the one he put on as a joke, apparently, Osakans were Japan’s answer to Texans.
He grunted and turned his head away from the window. “Never seen this much outside of postcards, I come from the Death Valley area, nuthin’ but desert.” Propping his head on his hand he gave a glance to Aiko, who seemed mortified at the seating arrangements as she tried to keep her decency from having to spread her legs around the truck’s MDC mount. “So I gotta ask, how the hell you two end up with this shit can? Don’t they have proper cars for this?”
Aiko groaned and shot a critical look at Seiko, who brushed it off with a laugh while addressing Solomon. “We sure did, until I used it to ram a daemon into a streetlight.” Slapping the steering wheel as she hooted. “Bam! All over the grill, crumpled the front like a soda can but hey, all in the name of duty. Oh, and I may have been using it to practice drifting.” She chuckled nervously, scratching her cheek as Aiko gave an annoyed huff. Patting the steering wheel again Seiko continued. “Call it a blessing in disguise because Kei-san here sure grew on me.” Speeding to weave through a few cars on the road that she felt were going too slow, she turned to address Solomon again, who was tapping away at the device on his arm. “So what’s that contraption on your arm? Looks like something from an old cartoon I used to watch.”
Solomon’s gaze flicked over to Seiko and back to his business, “Hunter’s Companion, HCOMP for short, think of it like your MDC there but portable and has a card reader.” Solomon pointed at the bank card size slot at the base of the device’s keyboard. “It’s an outdated model, along with my visor, but it lets me scan for daemonic energy and verify their power and bounty. Also lets me call in express deliveries from Gabeco.” He explained, adjusting the bulky case strapped to his arm and slipping the mono-visor over his eye as he fired it up. Reaching into his pocket to pull out a bank card that was tethered to his person and slotted it into the HCOMP, tapping away at the keyboard as he set up his delivery info.
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
Seiko’s ears perked at the mention of Gabeco. “That’s the company that the Archangel guy runs, yeah? True they really send angels to deliver stuff personally?” Aiko looked over, equally curious as Solomon tapped away, nodding. “Sure do, express delivery, expensive as shit, but they’ll deliver anythin’ to ya if you can afford it. Gonna cost a helluva a lot more since your government doesn’t wanna play ball with the choir boy fiddlers in Rome. I’m here officially and I’m still gonna be paying a heavy mark-up.” Grimacing as he yanked the card out and stuffed it back into his pocket, cursing his current funds.
Aiko couldn’t help but tilt her head. “I heard that Hunters are ranked based on how much they have in the bank. If I may ask, what is your ranking?” Solomon gave a grunt and started to run his fingers through the back of his head, for a second she assumed his male pride would compel him to lie, but he suddenly got a look like a child being scolded by their mother and crossed his arms looking out the window the pout evident on the reflection. “I’m a zero-point-one. You’re only half right. Hunters are ranked on their money and current equipment. The main thing to raise your rank is money, but only if you can afford a particular item. There’s a lot of zero-pointers like me, most Hunters are.”
Seiko couldn’t help but chime in. “So what you’re saying is that you’re poorer than a college dropout that just got laid off.” Solomon snorted in annoyance.
“Not exactly, in terms of buying power for the shit I need to do my job, I’m broke as shit. But the sign-on bonus for this deployment is enough to keep me kinda comfy here. Depending on what we can find in the city.”
Seiko gave a nod, asking further. “So if yer a point-one, what makes a Hunter a 1.0?”
Solomon leaned back, holding his hands out like a fisherman telling a tale. “You need a Nail.” Giving a glance at the confused looks the two women were giving him. “A Nail of Helena. Basically a blessed one-shot rocket launcher. You only use those fuckin’ things for level 9s and above. Someone has to bust out a Nail, you know shit’s going down.”
Aiko seemed to lose color as she started to put pieces together. “So what you’re telling us is that the Hunters’ guild sent us rookies.” Earning a sidelong glance from Solomon.
“First of all. Shut your trap, I’m gonna be the best thing this shithole country has had since instant ramen was invented. Secondly, Hunters aren’t charity workers. If you’d been payin’ attention, operating here is expensive.” Making a point of unholstering his Hi-power and pulling the magazine out. “Bullets, much less daemon-killing bullets, are not cheap.”
Aiko made an effort to grab and force Solomon to put the gun out of sight as they passed a minivan with several children in it. Hissing, “Idiot! Don’t wave that thing around, people get worried!” Solomon sneered as he yanked his hands out of hers and holstered his weapon.
“Hands to yerself Cop Girl. Don’t recall givin’ ya permission.” Aiko gave an indignant huff as she crossed her arms.
“Like I need permission to stop a gun-toting brat from disturbing the peace.” Seiko chuckled at the bickering, pulling onto the expressway that brought them into the city proper.
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20XX Osaka, en route to Higashiōsaka
Solomon propped his head on his hand as the truck putted at a snail's pace through Osakan traffic. The neat, bustling city a far cry from the dusty backwater and wartorn towns and city outskirts he was used to in the wake of the Incursion Wars. There were signs of the conflict, the buildings on the very edge of the bay were either damaged or hardened to withstand attacks, the industrial ports mostly converted to armed strongholds to repel water-borne daemons. But the city so far had a convincing charade of peace.
The greater the calm: the greater the storm. Remember this Summoner. One of his resident Demon’s said cryptically, but he couldn’t tell who off the bat.
Solomon fought back the urge to roll his eyes, turning his head so he was looking fully out the window to hide his mouth moving. Saying as internally as possible. “Ok, which one of you is seeing something?” Feeling the voices inside stirring.
Foresight is not an exact ability. Those of us that have it only see vague and differing outcomes. Morax is still convening with the stars. Barbatros is convinced it’s literally a storm on the way.
Cats and dogs Summoner: buy an umbrella when you can!
Solomon couldn’t stop from rolling his eyes at that one. Briefly flicking his eye over his mono visor as it flashed briefly and the truck’s radio buzzed into life.
“Attention all units in the vicinity of Higashiishikiri Park. Be advised, daemonic activity has been reported. Repeat: daemonic activity reported in the Huxley Manor. Unknown strength.”
Aiko and Seiko glanced at each other as Aiko grabbed the transceiver, speaking curtly into it. “Truck 49 copies Dispatch. En route now.” There was a brief silence, long enough for Seiko to comment. “A thousand yen says they were hopin’ we weren’t the ones picking up.” Aiko's mouth twitched into a frown but didn’t make any sounds of disagreement.
The radio buzzed again. “Copy Truck 49. Do you have the Hunter on board?”
Aiko clicked the transceiver. “Yes, dispatch. Hunter is on board.”
“Acknowledged, routing ADOTF as back up. Good luck Truck 49, out.”
Aiko sighed as she hung the transceiver back. Looking over to Solomon as Seiko turned the sirens on and sped up. “I hope you’re ready for your first day.”
Solomon only smirked, “They don't pay me to be a tourist.”