July 23rd, 1997

Kanagawa Prefecture, Japan, 4:17AM

The streets and railways of summertime Japan are almost always active in some capacity, walked day and night by those in pursuit of anything ranging from employment to recreational outings. Although the capital of Tokyo serves as centerpiece of the country, Japan is spread into eight regions hosting their own respective charms. No matter where one goes, a residual air of tradition and spirituality is never far from even the most modernized areas of it's civilization. Mostly similar to a conventional Earth in terms of land and sea composition as well as general history, this world holds a unique natural order of creatures known as Devils. Personification of humanity's fears, no matter how mild or abstract. 

Boasting a population of over one hundred million at this time without even accounting for those indulging in tourism, it's needless to say countless lives proceed to play out one way or another. Some existences are mundane and uneventful, while some are immersed in action that tempts fate itself. But one life in particular reserves a definitive place in this fate to come, a foreigner in more aspects than one currently along the inner streets of Kanagawa. Some distance south of Tokyo and considered a coastal city, this [seemingly young man|http://aminoapps.com/p/aubkug] had chosen to dedicate a majority of his day to casual sightseeing with the luxury of freedom he constantly enjoyed. Granted, he'd needed to put forth some effort in establishing himself upon first stepping foot in this country only just over a week ago. 

Firstly was acquiring currency, a stray fifty or hundred Yen coin dropped by a passerby or through sleight of hand proved sufficient. A simple duplication of the metal coins produced ample funds untraceable due to a lack of serial numbers that complicated his legally questionable creation of currency. With a hefty container of said coins, a trip or two with a Coinstar machine was a smart method to obtain more legitimate and transportable funds. Secondly was creating a record of his existence, a issue he'd thankfully grown used to tackling in his travels that was remedied with just a good computer and a night to kill time. Gods forbid he be asked for identification by authorities, a wave of problems inevitable to say the least. With money to spend, he'd decided to treat himself to purchasing a set of casual clothing to wear that fit his general preference in style. A brown leather jacket with wool cuffed sleeves, black cotton t-shirt, dark jeans, and brown leather boots he'd carefully chosen to fit his lean six foot tall form fairly well in all the right places. However, a few personal accessories remained on his person such as a black beaded bracelet with one or two golden beads bound together, and a pair of dark aviator sunglasses obscuring his eyes from view for some reason, in the dark of night no less.

Aside from finding a temporary residence to return to in his time not spent wandering, the man was free to enjoy peacefully walking the paths and streets of Japan with little worry aside from the mild distaste some had for foreigners, which was hardly any skin off his back. As of now, he'd taken to the apparently less visited section of the city in pursuit of a viewing of a clearer night sky made possible by lower light pollution from businesses. While it was true more lively ways to spend his time such as the somewhat humorously named Cosmo World that served as a standout landmark of Kanagawa, he found himself desiring a more simple experience in lieu of the chatter and lights of modern fun. Some time was spent strolling in silence by the occasional pedestrian who passed him by without so much as an acknowledgement until a voice of a person he'd passed by seemed to call out to him from the entrance of a spacious lot holding a sizable factory in obvious disrepair. 

"Excuse me, young man?"

His attention moved to regard who had called to him, an elderly man dressed somewhat formally in a mostly brown outfit of a almost bowler hat, blazer, white dress shirt, black slacks, and brown dress shoes indicating he likely wasn't by any means destitute. The young man ceased his walking to turn towards the elderly gentleman, his own voice responding with a edge of causality. "Hm? Yes sir?" He questioned to initiate conversation between the two of them. "I'm sorry if this is a bother to ask, but would you be willing to help me carry some boxes from the factory behind me? You see, I formerly owned that run down building. One of my business ventures that regrettably went down the tubes, but I came to the realization tonight that I'd left some valuable and sentimental items inside. Though once I had packed these items into boxes, my old bones just can't manage to move them into my van." The elderly gentleman explained. "So you need help getting those boxes into your car. Why didn't you get an employee of yours to help you if I may ask?" The young man replied, glancing toward the white van parked just off beside the building. "It's past anyone's working hours, and i thought I could manage it by myself, some arrogance on my part I confess. But would you be willing to assist me?" He pressed the request slightly. "Sure. I'd be happy to, Sir. Lead the way." The man's request was accepted, not keen to pass up the opportunity to do a good deed of the day. While this would be strange to ask to most, he'd heard weirder in his time.

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After a crisp cough, his willingness to help was acknowledged. "Wonderful. If you'd follow me, I'll show you where the boxes are." The elderly man dryly returned, turning to hobble along the cracked asphalt lot toward the building, expecting his helper to follow. The young man trailed behind, absent-mindedly slipping his hands into the pockets of his jacket and catching a glimpse of starry night sky. "So what did this factory produce when it was still in operation?" He inquired, mainly just to make small talk and learn something. The elder took a couple of seconds to answer as if thinking, the same dry tone evident. "Assorted car parts. In my ambitions, I wanted to have a share of one of Japan's greatest export industries. But monopolies set by more prominent companies gradually made me realize it's impossible to compete." A low sound of acknowledgement came in response before the junior made a comment just as they'd passed a pair of sliding metal doors. "I see. I only hope you hadn't sank a substantial sum into this prospect, would be unfortunate if you'd put yourself in financial trouble" His nose somewhat scrunched up once he'd stepped inside of the rundown building, comparable to something rotting or putrid. Perhaps an animal had expired somewhere in the masses of crates and machinery that cluttered the dim space illuminated by almost yellow lightbulbs. 

The old man lets out gruff sigh from the comment made. "Fortunately, I had other sources of income. Although some were... questionable." He cleared his throat, continuing. "But back to the job at hand. The boxes I need are right there, young man." He extended a bony finger to a handful of boxes set maybe twenty five or so feet inside, apparently holding some weight to them as he'd been informed. "Alright. I'll get them" The young man stated, stepping ahead to gather a box and return toward the doors intending to set it inside the van. As he carried the container, a lighthearted comment left his lips out of considerate impulse. "I'm sure you'll still find success in your other endeavors. Maybe stick to your strongest industries? Plenty of money to be made I'm sure, only reason to try digging into other categories is to amass power or induge in greed if I'm being honest. No offense to you, Sir." 

The senior stares at him out of the corner of his eye, expression unreadable to determine if he was offended or not. "None taken. I can understand your point. You could say I would like power, like I'd think most desire to have. Alas, some power comes at a price" The young stooped down to grasp another box as his senior acquaintance remained at the entrance, fingers subtly gripping each handle of the doors. "More specifically, a sacrifice..." 

The factory doors shut abruptly with a metallic bang, making the young man perk up and turn to face the old man who stood just to the side of the doors barely visible in the lighting with a box in hand. "What are you doing?" He questioned with furrowing brows, the putrid scent he'd detected earlier seeming to intensity as an answer was tensely awaited. To his concern, the elder adopted a slumped pose before finally speaking in a almost deadpan tone. "It's almost a shame, you even sympathized with my bullshit of a story. But this is my most profitable industry, obtaining the powers of a Devil in exchange for lives such as yours, kid." 

With a raise of his arm and a flick of a switch, the lights of the warehouse cut off to leave the young man in the dark, save for the moonlight gleaming through the rooftop windows with a blueish hue. Considering he'd just been lured into a less than optimal situation, the box he'd intended to carry unceremoniously dropped onto the floor as the previously quiet factory erupted with noise such as groans and disembodied grunts of humanoid looking creatures emerging from behind the cover of clutter as if lying in wait for this moment, giving some insight to the foul odor that had defiled his nose once he'd laid eyes on rotting flesh. One form in particular caught his attention as it emerged from the darkened rafters, appearing to be a large withered disembodied torso with intestines serving as legs maybe? More peculiarly would be the face on its right pectoral that spoke with a screechy voice in all it's grotesqueness. 

"Hey, human. These guys are all total suckers! When I offered to give them some of my devilish power, they jumped at the chance like starving dogs. But they were so hellbent on power, they didn't consider the fact my power would turn them into zombies! You'd think it would be obvious, because I'm the Zombie Devil." 

The devil let out a high pitched laugh at the misfortune of his now minions. "But who cares? All they're good for is catching my food that makes the mistake of coming in here, like you. Their boss makes good bait for bringing in snacks" The young man accesses the situation as best he can, trying to process the abrupt position he'd been put in. Questions bounced around his mind as a horde converged on him, wanting to gain a better understanding. But from what he'd already heard, it was easy to draw a justifiable conclusion that this 'Zombie Devil' partook in killing and eating people, luring unsuspecting civilians within this factory for a less than noticeable kill to preserve its hiding place.

"So what you're telling me is that you're some sort of human eating monster with no remorse for the people you've killed and made into zombies?" He asked, putting a foot forward and moving his right arm to the side as if preparing to do something. "Proudly so! You pitiful human, you ask me that like you plan to do something about it! You're just going to die!Kill him my flesh minions!" The man inhaled deeply in possible preparation despite the odor, exhaling steadily through his nostrils before speaking once again in just about the same tone he'd used to speak to the bait of an old man. Whatever happened next, only he would know for sure. 

"I think that's all I needed to know."