Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction ❯ Shadow Realm: Fifteen ❯ Slip Away ( Chapter 6 )
[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
By: Man Called True 
In the aftermath of his fight with Gaia, Fifteen sinks into hiding. But fate won't let him get away that easily...
Anime/Manga: Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Fantasy / Drama / Action | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 02.24.2005 | Pages: 2 | Words: 4.4K | Visits: 244 | Status: Completed
In the aftermath of his fight with Gaia, Fifteen sinks into hiding. But fate won't let him get away that easily...
Anime/Manga: Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Fantasy / Drama / Action | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 02.24.2005 | Pages: 2 | Words: 4.4K | Visits: 244 | Status: Completed
Two days had passed since the defeat of Gaia the Fierce Knight. The Level Four Spellcaster Living Quarters had taken shakedown after shakedown, each part of it placed in the Central Shadow Realm Police Force's metaphorical vise and squeezed until it bled. So far, nothing had come up that gave even a hint as to where the Shadow Killer was hiding. All that was known was that, in a fair fight, he had overcome the Central Shadow Realm's last resort.
During those two days, the Shadow Killer himself, Witty Phantom 15A, had fallen off the map, or so it seemed. In truth, he had spent those days hidden in a small apartment, nursing cups of Blue Medicine and pondering what in the names of the Gods he was going to do now.
***
On the third day, he made his decision. "I'm getting out of this part of town," he told Tessia that afternoon, sipping his latest glass of Blue Medicine. Fifteen's ribs were back in working order, but his ankle still throbbed when he moved too quickly.
The Magician of Faith was, not suprisingly, unhappy to hear that. "You're kidding, right?" She topped off his medicine and stared at him, head tilted.
"I can't risk them discovering me," he went on. Taking his battered hat from the dresser, he spun it in one hand and put it on. "If they discover you're harboring the so-called Shadow Killer, neither you nor Naomi can hope to get out of it with your skin in one piece. It's safer for all of us if I just get out."
"Where will you go?" This time Naomi was asking the question. She had spent her free time stitching up the various rips in Fifteen's jacket, which now sat in her hands. Her work was excellent; you had to strain to see the damage Gaia's attacks had done to it.
Fifteen took a while (two sips of his medicine) to answer that question. When he finally spoke again, he said, "I'll hide in the Low-Level Zombie Housing Quarters. Nobody will ask any questions there."
Both women gaped, and then Tessia rapped Fifteen over the head with her staff. His hat absorbed most of the blow but was left with a dent in it. As Fifteen popped the dent back out, the Magician of Faith yelled, "What are you thinking?!? You can't go there! The Syndicate will tear you to pieces! They kill any non-Fie-"
Her rant was interrupted when Fifteen merely chortled and tugged on his ear. His orange-skinned, pointed, otherwise fiendish ear.
"Oh. Forgot about that," she finished. After a moment, though, she started yelling again. "But what about your aura? If the cops so much as pass within fifty feet of you, you're doomed! What'll you do about that?"
Rather than say anything, Fifteen held up a magic cube. It had come from the bag the Skilled Dark Magician had given him, which had also contained the Blue Medicine he was drinking. The cube, like all others, had no distinguishing features, but its aura was instilled with its identity. This one was a Scroll of Bewitchment, which had long ago become illegal. "With this, I can pass as Witty Phantom 15C," he explained. "I don't know whether one exists or not, but it's my best chance. I'm leaving tonight."
Neither of the two Spellcasters could think of anything to say. They didn't need to say anything, as the doubt was written in bold letters on their faces.
Anyone who had passed by the front door of Apartment 465 during that conversation would have seen a Kuriboh leaning heavily against it, as if listening to something. Had they then chosen to stay there, they would have witnessed the Kuriboh melt and reform into a Skilled Dark Magician. And had they not started running, the Skilled Dark Magician would have then killed them.
***
The train to the Low-Level Zombie Housing Complex was late, Fifteen noted. He had left Tessia and Naomi's apartment about three hours after the conversation, having finally convinced them both that it was the best idea. Tessia had almost cracked his ribs again during her farewell hug.
Underneath his neatly repaired jacket, the Scroll of Bewitchment was adhered to his shirt (which was new - a gift from Naomi after the fight). Anyone who happened to sense his aura would learn that he was, to judge by that, Witty Phantom 15C instead of Witty Phantom 15A. Whether they then asked what Witty Phantom 15C was doing outside of the Level Four Fiend Living Quarters was not something Fifteen cared about.
A commotion was occuring further down the platform. Curious, Fifteen moved towards it.
"I hear you've started asking your friends to call you Emily." The monster saying this, a Dark Elf, gripped in her hand the front of a Fire Sorceror's cloak; said Fire Sorceror currently dangled quite dangerously over the tracks. Off in the distance, the train could be heard, finally approaching. "I told you, FS-125 - you've got no business taking a name at your level. I'm just DE-267, and I'm perfectly fine with that. Why aren't you?"
Despite the various problems involved with speaking when giant metallic death is rapidly coming closer, the Fire Sorceror named Emily choked out, "It just... didn't feel right... being a number..." Her hat slid back, and she barely caught it.
The Dark Elf laughed, a bit of black energy dancing around her free hand. "Bad answer," she said. "You'll have to kiss the train."
It had gone far enough, Fifteen decided. Moving forward, he grabbed a firm hold of the Dark Elf's robe and pulled hard. Both DE-267 and Emily jerked backward, and as the Fire Sorceror's feet hit pavement, she pulled free and ran down the street, screaming her lungs out.
Catching her balance, the Dark Elf charged her hand, black energy circling it at high speed. "What the hell were you thinking?" she hissed at the Witty Phantom. "You had no business with what I was doing! What, do you have a name?"
"I am known as Fifteen," the fiend replied, pulling his hat down. "And as for why I saved her, all I can say is that I didn't find what you were doing fair." He was in trouble - he couldn't afford to get in a fight so soon after Gaia; his ankle was still throbbing.
The situation was abruptly settled when a cry of "Runaway luggage!" prefaced an out-of-control treasure chest skidding down the street and ramming into the Dark Elf. Knocked back, she teetered on the edge of the platform for about three seconds before falling to the rails. Just as she landed, the train arrived, and she was crushed in an explosion of triangular shards.
Watching all this, all Fifteen thought was that they had better not add that one to the list of his victims. At that point, the train's door opened, and he and the luggage's owner, a Kycoo the Ghost Destroyer, stepped on board.
***
The cobblestones on the platform in the Low-Level Zombie Housing Quarters were cracked. This was the first warning to any newcomers. There were no second warnings.
Stepping off, Fifteen noted that the streetlights were either broken or twisted into pretzels. After briefly pondering why there were streetlights in a lair of the undead, an instinct told him to duck. He did so, and the incoming Sparks barely missed him. Instead, the spell struck its intended target, a 13th Grave, who shuddered and then melted away. Getting up, Fifteen resumed his travel.
There were suprisingly few zombies in the Low-Level Zombie Quarters. This was for one reason, and one reason only: the Dark Ruler didn't like them. Most had long since migrated to the Level Four or high districts, where they became the local homeless population. Ever since the Ha Des Business Syndicate came about...
Fifteen's train of thought came to a halt when he was offered a free sample of Nutrient Z. Brushing it off, he sat down on a bench, and pondered.
As he sat down, a fairly large crow nested in the tree behind him...
***
Crime was as much a scourge of the Central Shadow Realm as it would be in any human city. Ever since the city came together under the rule of Exodia, there were those who sought to enrichen their coffers by raiding those of others. For a time, the rates of robbery and murder were so high that the entire city fell under martial law.
And then, for a period of one year, it came to a virtual halt. Those who believed that the criminals had either left or had just lost the battles with the military proved overly optismistic. In truth, the year's relief had come about because it took a while for the new mastermind to rise to power.
Dark Ruler Ha Des had served an undistinguished term of service in the First Dragon War, and vanished shortly afterward. But in the time following the final battles of that war, he'd developed an ever-expanding web of contacts and control, one that slowly strangled the other crime lords (the Patrician of Darkness, the Sorceror of the Doomed, and the Chaos Command Magician among them) and either forced them under his control... or killed them outright. Within one year, the year that the crime rates dropped, the Dark Ruler had become the most powerful monster in the so-called "shadows of the Shadow Realm"; he'd created the Ha Des Business Syndicate to maintain his various operations.
All the low-level Zombies were tormenting the other parts of the Central Shadow Realm because of him. When the Dark Ruler had decided on a base for his organization, he'd picked the one least likely to draw attention; even then, the Low-Level Zombie Housing Quarters were a slum. Any of the monsters there who chose not to become part of the Syndicate had either run off or redied. Now it was the gigantic offices of Ha Des, and despite the Central Shadow Realm Police Force's best efforts, it was likely to stay that way.
When Fifteen had just started his life, he'd seen the coming of a group dubbing themselves the Element Heroes. They'd vowed to clean up the Central Shadow Realm and wipe Ha Des off the map. Within three days, they were all dead - they'd died spectacularly, gruesomely, and most important, publicly. Nobody stepped on the Dark Ruler's toes and got away with it. There wasn't a monster foolish enough to challenge him after that.
***
As Fifteen went through the history lesson in his head, Apartment 464's door flew open, and Aysev slid into the room, Sparks gun at the ready. Geefor stayed beside the entrance, hand on the two-way radio and waiting to request backup. Every other apartment on the floor up to here (401 to 463) had proven fruitless, leaving only a large number of very, very angry monsters. But as this was the last living complex left in the Level Four Spellcaster Living Quarters, it was the only place left for the suspect to hide. Catching the Shadow Killer would be worth all the hassle.
"Is anyone in here?" Aysev yelled, moving towards a recently-broken drawer. "This is Detective A-737 of the Central Shadow Realm Police Force! If there is anyone in this apartment, come out now! We want to question you!"
Geefor moved around the apartment, muttering into his tape recorder. "Apartment 464, currently inhabited by a Skilled Dark Magician, according to the records. Appears to have been ransacked recently; no aura traces less than four days old, all belonging to the original owner. It is possible that the suspect, if he was here, killed the original owner. Hmmmm..." He stooped, retrieved his tongs from his sheath, and picked up a shard of metal near the doorway. "Pieces of what appear to be Sparks shells would confirm my theory about the original owner being dead." Letting go of the Record button on his tape recorder, he called to Aysev, "Find anything?"
"Yeah!" the detective replied. "Come take a look at this!"
When Geefor entered what appeared to be the bedroom, he found his partner staring at a small, glowing cube - a trap cube from the looks of it. "Have you identified it?" he asked.
"I'm afraid to get close enough to do it," Aysev said, holding out her hand. "Lend me your tongs."
Even as the Sasuke Samurai took out his tongs and handed them to her, he'd already gone into his usual lecture: "Here you go, but use caution. Remember, that cube's already active. It could be a Widespread Ruin, a Torrential Tribute set to the next person who comes in, a..."
The lecture came to a halt as Aysev jabbed the cube with the tongs. The trap shuddered for a second, and then unfolded. Emerging from it was a massive, serpentine figure, with a human's head and a snake sprouting from its back. Drawing a sword and taking up a shield, the monster trap hissed, raising his blade.
"Or an Embodiment of Ophosis..." Geefor concluded.
Both monsters threw themselves out of the way as the Embodiment struck, cracking the floorboards with its first attack. The snake head flicked its tongue, trying to sense them as the trap monster slid off the remnants of its cube, slithering towards the door. Its tail batted the tongs aside, and Geefor swept them up, returning them to his sheath.
Counting to five in her head, Aysev leapt out, gun drawn. The instant the Embodiment of Ophosis turned around, she opened fire with her Sparks gun. Fireball after fireball pounded the creature's heads and torso, until finally the gun clicked empty. Smoking badly, the snake-like statue dropped its sword, quivered, and then finally shattered in a rain of triangular shards.
The Unfriendly Amazon panted, her gun sliding from her hands as she took hold of her knees. At her side, Geefor opened a bag and swept the shards of the Embodiment's trap cube into it, muttering something. Listening close, Aysev heard it: "What's the first thing they teach you in the Entering an Area course?"
A blush crossed her face before she answered, "Always be wary of active trap cubes."
"ALWAYS be wary of active trap cubes!" Geefor said, a little louder this time. "They meant the 'always'!"
***
"Hey. You that Shadow Killer the newspapers keep going on about?"
Fifteen was jolted off his train of thought by the question. Glancing up, he saw the question's source - a Humanoid Slime. One hand slid under his jacket, to where the Scroll of Bewitchment hummed steadily, still active. "How the hell did you-"
The Humanoid Slime bubbled slightly, and a piece of stone floated up into its clear head. The stone had a number of engravings, the centralmost being an eye. It pulsed with imbued power.
All Fifteen could do was sigh. No matter what measures you took to keep from being noticed, an Eye of Truth would always know what you were. "So, why are you so interested in what I am?" he asked the protoplasm.
"I ain't the interested one," the Slime replied. "No, that would be the boss. Not a lot of reasons one of the WPs would come here, 'less they were you. You showed up, and the boss got real interested."
The next thing Fifteen felt was his heart sinking down into his shoes. "The boss? Are we just talking your personal boss, or-"
"That would be 'my employer'. There's only one 'the boss'."
"Damn it."
"Usual reaction, yeah."
Before Fifteen could start running, he felt a pinch at his neck, followed by a swift drop into unconsciousness. The last thing he heard was the snickering of a Saggi the Dark Clown.
***
A jolt of cold water ran over the Witty Phantom's face, and he awoke to find himself in a darkened room, bent over a basin. On either side of him stood Blindly Loyal Goblins, both armed with Ookazi guns, and behind him stood the Humanoid Slime from earlier. The latter turned him around and placed his hat back on him. "Get your senses back quick," it advised him, "the boss is waiting."
There is nothing so senses-restoring as the thought that you may soon be killed. Fifteen was in full possession of his faculties by the time the Goblins frog-marched him into the next room.
As would be expected given its owner, the room was opulent - rare Great Moth silks were draped around the wall, and the chairs were the very best Trent wood. The center of the room was a marble desk, carved (given its occasional low groans) from a living Stone Ogre Grotto. Currently atop the desk was a folded newspaper, with yesterday's date and the headline, SHADOW KILLER STRIKES AGAIN - SLAYING IN L5 WARRIOR COMPLEX. Behind the desk was a giant painting, showing the legendary battle between Mefist the Infernal General and the Vampire Lord, Meier. The frame of the painting was composed of Souls of the Forgotten, stretched out and nailed in place with Time Seals. The room sent two messages: one, that the room's usual occupant was rich enough and confident enough to have his furnishings made out of other monsters, and two, that if you did anything out of line you could easily be the next item of furniture.
Fifteen was still looking at the painting when a tremendously cultured voice spoke: "You admire the artwork, I see. Costs me a small fortune to keep it free of Portrait's Secrets, but of course I make a small fortune everyday. Please, be seated."
The Goblins knocked Fifteen into the chair before the desk, and the Dark Ruler Ha Des passed by him. He wore blue velvet, draped around his body, with a massive bone chestpiece shaped as a skull. A black metal collarpiece hung out over his shoulders, laced with gold and studded along the edges with sapphires; in the center sat a massive ruby engraved with a suffering face. Red-stained metal covered his arms, and he wore a headdress of the same black and gold as his collarpiece. In one hand, he held a glass of wine. His very presence conveyed a warning of dire consequences should you act out of turn.
Settling into a throne that once was a XYZ-Dragon Cannon, the Dark Ruler sipped his wine and grinned, a terrifying sight if ever there was one. "I always thought the Shadow Killer would look a little different from the others of his kind. I appear to have made a mistake," he began. There was a long pause.
Catching on to his opening, Fifteen said, "There was. I haven't done anything they've accused me of."
"I doubted that from the start," Ha Des replied, setting his wine down. "You're one of the bureacrat class. If they've done anything of any importance in the Central Shadow Realm, I have yet to see it. And they would never do anything to disturb the order of this place."
Sensing another opening, the Witty Phantom asked, "Do you know who might have done it?"
"No, which startles me," the Dark Ruler answered. "I have nothing to go on. The more killings and other such crimes occur, the more likely it is the police will start blaming me. I have every impetus in the world to find the killer, and I have no clue who it is." There was another pause, too short for Fifteen to speak, and then he resumed. "I assume, then, that whoever is mimicking you also defeated Gaia?"
"Actually, that was me," Fifteen replied. "My guess is that whoever's doing the killings wasn't acting as me that time. And before you ask, no, I don't think I can win another battle like that."
"Pity," Ha Des said, draining his wineglass. One of the Blindly Loyal Goblins stepped forward and refilled the glass from a bottle that, judging from its looks and color, had formerly lived as a Dissolverock. As this took place, the general feeling of the room grew even darker... well, as much darker as a room furnished with other monsters could get. "I was hoping you could become part of the Syndicate. I suppose we shall have to resort to Plan B."
Something about the phrase made Fifteen's face turn a lighter orange. "Plan... B?" Behind him, he could hear the Ookazi guns click.
"Yes, Plan B. If your corpse, preserved and aura-tagged, is sent to the Central Shadow Realm Police Office... well, the case would be closed, would it not?" Something about the way Ha Des said the line made Fifteen doubt that a Plan A had ever existed. One of the Dark Ruler's fingers pointed at him, and dark energy danced on its tip. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Witty Phantom Fifteen."
Before the blast could be fired, a commotion from outside the office caused everyone, Fifteen included, to look to the door. A man in black plate, with purple hair and a band around one eye, was flipping his way through the room. Leaping through the door, he dropped an active magic cube on Ha Des's desk, shouted, "A gift from the Dark Scorpions!", and vanished in a cloud of smoke.
Exactly three seconds later, Ha Des had jumped down a Dimensionhole he'd kept in his pocket for times like this one, the Blindly Loyal Goblins had fled, and Fifteen was out the nearest window. A bolt of lightning obliterated the furnishings in the office the second after that.
***
For the second time in less than a week, Fifteen was laying on pavement, his hat a fair distance away from him, trying hard to keep his breathing regular. The impact had knocked the air of his lungs, and more likely than not, had also rebroken his ribs. And on reflection, he admitted to himself that it was still better than getting a grapefruit-sized hole blown through his chest.
Of course, he'd gotten lucky today. The Dark Scorpions were the Ha Des Business Syndicate's only real rivals, and this wasn't the first time Don Zaloog had shown up in person to destroy one of the Dark Ruler's headquarters. This would probably trigger another burst of violence between the Zombie and Warrior Quarters, where each were cloistered. But it would be violence that Fifteen wasn't part of, which was a plus.
The train of thought derailed as Don Zaloog himself bent over Fifteen. The crime boss tucked a folded slip of paper into the fiend's pocket, and began to walk away. Throwing himself into a sitting position, Fifteen watched...
...and saw the Don shiver before melting down and becoming a giant crow, which took to the air.
All of a sudden, pieces of the puzzle began to assemble themselves in the fiend's mind. Before he could focus, two sets of footsteps rushed up to him, and then he was yanked painfully upright and embraced from behind. The size of the arms made it clear who that was, and Fifteen painfully shouted, "Tessia! What the hell are you doing here?"
"The police showed up," Naomi explained as her friend hugged/throttled the Witty Phantom. "They didn't go into our apartment, but with your aura traces all over it, we decided it wasn't safe to be there anymore. So we've decided to help you out as much as we can."
Finally breaking loose from Tessia's grip, Fifteen took a couple of deep breathes, and then managed to smile, saying, "Well, thanks for the thought, but what are we going to do? It's not like we have anywhere to go." At that moment, the paper in his shirt pocket tickled him, and he unfolded it. The smile vanished, and he admitted, "Then again, I might have spoken too soon."
***
An hour later, the following conversation took place in Low-Level Zombie Housing Complex 3, also known as the Ha Des Hidey Holes.
"I'm here for Apartment 214."
"You need to give me proof of ownership."
"'I am sick and tired of conventional fixed-style jazz.'"
"Gotta question why the boss is giving one of our rooms to a Witty Phantom and friends, but it ain't my department. Here's the key, and if the cops show up, there's a Dimensionhole in the sink. Have a nice stay."
***
There were three absences in the Central Shadow Realm of note.
The Dark Magician, Spellcaster Representative, did not appear in the Shadow Council meeting that night. His aide, the Rogue Doll Tilde, stated he was on business elsewhere.
When the Dark Scorpions convened for a planning session in their lair, Don Zaloog didn't turn up. A search found him, bound and gagged behind his favorite bar. When asked what happened, he cursed about getting assaulted by a Blindly Loyal Goblin and vowed revenge on Ha Des.
And the whereabouts of Gaia the Fierce Knight were still unknown, although a trail of corpses seemed to lead steadily towards the Dragon Lairs...
During those two days, the Shadow Killer himself, Witty Phantom 15A, had fallen off the map, or so it seemed. In truth, he had spent those days hidden in a small apartment, nursing cups of Blue Medicine and pondering what in the names of the Gods he was going to do now.
***
On the third day, he made his decision. "I'm getting out of this part of town," he told Tessia that afternoon, sipping his latest glass of Blue Medicine. Fifteen's ribs were back in working order, but his ankle still throbbed when he moved too quickly.
The Magician of Faith was, not suprisingly, unhappy to hear that. "You're kidding, right?" She topped off his medicine and stared at him, head tilted.
"I can't risk them discovering me," he went on. Taking his battered hat from the dresser, he spun it in one hand and put it on. "If they discover you're harboring the so-called Shadow Killer, neither you nor Naomi can hope to get out of it with your skin in one piece. It's safer for all of us if I just get out."
"Where will you go?" This time Naomi was asking the question. She had spent her free time stitching up the various rips in Fifteen's jacket, which now sat in her hands. Her work was excellent; you had to strain to see the damage Gaia's attacks had done to it.
Fifteen took a while (two sips of his medicine) to answer that question. When he finally spoke again, he said, "I'll hide in the Low-Level Zombie Housing Quarters. Nobody will ask any questions there."
Both women gaped, and then Tessia rapped Fifteen over the head with her staff. His hat absorbed most of the blow but was left with a dent in it. As Fifteen popped the dent back out, the Magician of Faith yelled, "What are you thinking?!? You can't go there! The Syndicate will tear you to pieces! They kill any non-Fie-"
Her rant was interrupted when Fifteen merely chortled and tugged on his ear. His orange-skinned, pointed, otherwise fiendish ear.
"Oh. Forgot about that," she finished. After a moment, though, she started yelling again. "But what about your aura? If the cops so much as pass within fifty feet of you, you're doomed! What'll you do about that?"
Rather than say anything, Fifteen held up a magic cube. It had come from the bag the Skilled Dark Magician had given him, which had also contained the Blue Medicine he was drinking. The cube, like all others, had no distinguishing features, but its aura was instilled with its identity. This one was a Scroll of Bewitchment, which had long ago become illegal. "With this, I can pass as Witty Phantom 15C," he explained. "I don't know whether one exists or not, but it's my best chance. I'm leaving tonight."
Neither of the two Spellcasters could think of anything to say. They didn't need to say anything, as the doubt was written in bold letters on their faces.
Anyone who had passed by the front door of Apartment 465 during that conversation would have seen a Kuriboh leaning heavily against it, as if listening to something. Had they then chosen to stay there, they would have witnessed the Kuriboh melt and reform into a Skilled Dark Magician. And had they not started running, the Skilled Dark Magician would have then killed them.
***
The train to the Low-Level Zombie Housing Complex was late, Fifteen noted. He had left Tessia and Naomi's apartment about three hours after the conversation, having finally convinced them both that it was the best idea. Tessia had almost cracked his ribs again during her farewell hug.
Underneath his neatly repaired jacket, the Scroll of Bewitchment was adhered to his shirt (which was new - a gift from Naomi after the fight). Anyone who happened to sense his aura would learn that he was, to judge by that, Witty Phantom 15C instead of Witty Phantom 15A. Whether they then asked what Witty Phantom 15C was doing outside of the Level Four Fiend Living Quarters was not something Fifteen cared about.
A commotion was occuring further down the platform. Curious, Fifteen moved towards it.
"I hear you've started asking your friends to call you Emily." The monster saying this, a Dark Elf, gripped in her hand the front of a Fire Sorceror's cloak; said Fire Sorceror currently dangled quite dangerously over the tracks. Off in the distance, the train could be heard, finally approaching. "I told you, FS-125 - you've got no business taking a name at your level. I'm just DE-267, and I'm perfectly fine with that. Why aren't you?"
Despite the various problems involved with speaking when giant metallic death is rapidly coming closer, the Fire Sorceror named Emily choked out, "It just... didn't feel right... being a number..." Her hat slid back, and she barely caught it.
The Dark Elf laughed, a bit of black energy dancing around her free hand. "Bad answer," she said. "You'll have to kiss the train."
It had gone far enough, Fifteen decided. Moving forward, he grabbed a firm hold of the Dark Elf's robe and pulled hard. Both DE-267 and Emily jerked backward, and as the Fire Sorceror's feet hit pavement, she pulled free and ran down the street, screaming her lungs out.
Catching her balance, the Dark Elf charged her hand, black energy circling it at high speed. "What the hell were you thinking?" she hissed at the Witty Phantom. "You had no business with what I was doing! What, do you have a name?"
"I am known as Fifteen," the fiend replied, pulling his hat down. "And as for why I saved her, all I can say is that I didn't find what you were doing fair." He was in trouble - he couldn't afford to get in a fight so soon after Gaia; his ankle was still throbbing.
The situation was abruptly settled when a cry of "Runaway luggage!" prefaced an out-of-control treasure chest skidding down the street and ramming into the Dark Elf. Knocked back, she teetered on the edge of the platform for about three seconds before falling to the rails. Just as she landed, the train arrived, and she was crushed in an explosion of triangular shards.
Watching all this, all Fifteen thought was that they had better not add that one to the list of his victims. At that point, the train's door opened, and he and the luggage's owner, a Kycoo the Ghost Destroyer, stepped on board.
***
The cobblestones on the platform in the Low-Level Zombie Housing Quarters were cracked. This was the first warning to any newcomers. There were no second warnings.
Stepping off, Fifteen noted that the streetlights were either broken or twisted into pretzels. After briefly pondering why there were streetlights in a lair of the undead, an instinct told him to duck. He did so, and the incoming Sparks barely missed him. Instead, the spell struck its intended target, a 13th Grave, who shuddered and then melted away. Getting up, Fifteen resumed his travel.
There were suprisingly few zombies in the Low-Level Zombie Quarters. This was for one reason, and one reason only: the Dark Ruler didn't like them. Most had long since migrated to the Level Four or high districts, where they became the local homeless population. Ever since the Ha Des Business Syndicate came about...
Fifteen's train of thought came to a halt when he was offered a free sample of Nutrient Z. Brushing it off, he sat down on a bench, and pondered.
As he sat down, a fairly large crow nested in the tree behind him...
***
Crime was as much a scourge of the Central Shadow Realm as it would be in any human city. Ever since the city came together under the rule of Exodia, there were those who sought to enrichen their coffers by raiding those of others. For a time, the rates of robbery and murder were so high that the entire city fell under martial law.
And then, for a period of one year, it came to a virtual halt. Those who believed that the criminals had either left or had just lost the battles with the military proved overly optismistic. In truth, the year's relief had come about because it took a while for the new mastermind to rise to power.
Dark Ruler Ha Des had served an undistinguished term of service in the First Dragon War, and vanished shortly afterward. But in the time following the final battles of that war, he'd developed an ever-expanding web of contacts and control, one that slowly strangled the other crime lords (the Patrician of Darkness, the Sorceror of the Doomed, and the Chaos Command Magician among them) and either forced them under his control... or killed them outright. Within one year, the year that the crime rates dropped, the Dark Ruler had become the most powerful monster in the so-called "shadows of the Shadow Realm"; he'd created the Ha Des Business Syndicate to maintain his various operations.
All the low-level Zombies were tormenting the other parts of the Central Shadow Realm because of him. When the Dark Ruler had decided on a base for his organization, he'd picked the one least likely to draw attention; even then, the Low-Level Zombie Housing Quarters were a slum. Any of the monsters there who chose not to become part of the Syndicate had either run off or redied. Now it was the gigantic offices of Ha Des, and despite the Central Shadow Realm Police Force's best efforts, it was likely to stay that way.
When Fifteen had just started his life, he'd seen the coming of a group dubbing themselves the Element Heroes. They'd vowed to clean up the Central Shadow Realm and wipe Ha Des off the map. Within three days, they were all dead - they'd died spectacularly, gruesomely, and most important, publicly. Nobody stepped on the Dark Ruler's toes and got away with it. There wasn't a monster foolish enough to challenge him after that.
***
As Fifteen went through the history lesson in his head, Apartment 464's door flew open, and Aysev slid into the room, Sparks gun at the ready. Geefor stayed beside the entrance, hand on the two-way radio and waiting to request backup. Every other apartment on the floor up to here (401 to 463) had proven fruitless, leaving only a large number of very, very angry monsters. But as this was the last living complex left in the Level Four Spellcaster Living Quarters, it was the only place left for the suspect to hide. Catching the Shadow Killer would be worth all the hassle.
"Is anyone in here?" Aysev yelled, moving towards a recently-broken drawer. "This is Detective A-737 of the Central Shadow Realm Police Force! If there is anyone in this apartment, come out now! We want to question you!"
Geefor moved around the apartment, muttering into his tape recorder. "Apartment 464, currently inhabited by a Skilled Dark Magician, according to the records. Appears to have been ransacked recently; no aura traces less than four days old, all belonging to the original owner. It is possible that the suspect, if he was here, killed the original owner. Hmmmm..." He stooped, retrieved his tongs from his sheath, and picked up a shard of metal near the doorway. "Pieces of what appear to be Sparks shells would confirm my theory about the original owner being dead." Letting go of the Record button on his tape recorder, he called to Aysev, "Find anything?"
"Yeah!" the detective replied. "Come take a look at this!"
When Geefor entered what appeared to be the bedroom, he found his partner staring at a small, glowing cube - a trap cube from the looks of it. "Have you identified it?" he asked.
"I'm afraid to get close enough to do it," Aysev said, holding out her hand. "Lend me your tongs."
Even as the Sasuke Samurai took out his tongs and handed them to her, he'd already gone into his usual lecture: "Here you go, but use caution. Remember, that cube's already active. It could be a Widespread Ruin, a Torrential Tribute set to the next person who comes in, a..."
The lecture came to a halt as Aysev jabbed the cube with the tongs. The trap shuddered for a second, and then unfolded. Emerging from it was a massive, serpentine figure, with a human's head and a snake sprouting from its back. Drawing a sword and taking up a shield, the monster trap hissed, raising his blade.
"Or an Embodiment of Ophosis..." Geefor concluded.
Both monsters threw themselves out of the way as the Embodiment struck, cracking the floorboards with its first attack. The snake head flicked its tongue, trying to sense them as the trap monster slid off the remnants of its cube, slithering towards the door. Its tail batted the tongs aside, and Geefor swept them up, returning them to his sheath.
Counting to five in her head, Aysev leapt out, gun drawn. The instant the Embodiment of Ophosis turned around, she opened fire with her Sparks gun. Fireball after fireball pounded the creature's heads and torso, until finally the gun clicked empty. Smoking badly, the snake-like statue dropped its sword, quivered, and then finally shattered in a rain of triangular shards.
The Unfriendly Amazon panted, her gun sliding from her hands as she took hold of her knees. At her side, Geefor opened a bag and swept the shards of the Embodiment's trap cube into it, muttering something. Listening close, Aysev heard it: "What's the first thing they teach you in the Entering an Area course?"
A blush crossed her face before she answered, "Always be wary of active trap cubes."
"ALWAYS be wary of active trap cubes!" Geefor said, a little louder this time. "They meant the 'always'!"
***
"Hey. You that Shadow Killer the newspapers keep going on about?"
Fifteen was jolted off his train of thought by the question. Glancing up, he saw the question's source - a Humanoid Slime. One hand slid under his jacket, to where the Scroll of Bewitchment hummed steadily, still active. "How the hell did you-"
The Humanoid Slime bubbled slightly, and a piece of stone floated up into its clear head. The stone had a number of engravings, the centralmost being an eye. It pulsed with imbued power.
All Fifteen could do was sigh. No matter what measures you took to keep from being noticed, an Eye of Truth would always know what you were. "So, why are you so interested in what I am?" he asked the protoplasm.
"I ain't the interested one," the Slime replied. "No, that would be the boss. Not a lot of reasons one of the WPs would come here, 'less they were you. You showed up, and the boss got real interested."
The next thing Fifteen felt was his heart sinking down into his shoes. "The boss? Are we just talking your personal boss, or-"
"That would be 'my employer'. There's only one 'the boss'."
"Damn it."
"Usual reaction, yeah."
Before Fifteen could start running, he felt a pinch at his neck, followed by a swift drop into unconsciousness. The last thing he heard was the snickering of a Saggi the Dark Clown.
***
A jolt of cold water ran over the Witty Phantom's face, and he awoke to find himself in a darkened room, bent over a basin. On either side of him stood Blindly Loyal Goblins, both armed with Ookazi guns, and behind him stood the Humanoid Slime from earlier. The latter turned him around and placed his hat back on him. "Get your senses back quick," it advised him, "the boss is waiting."
There is nothing so senses-restoring as the thought that you may soon be killed. Fifteen was in full possession of his faculties by the time the Goblins frog-marched him into the next room.
As would be expected given its owner, the room was opulent - rare Great Moth silks were draped around the wall, and the chairs were the very best Trent wood. The center of the room was a marble desk, carved (given its occasional low groans) from a living Stone Ogre Grotto. Currently atop the desk was a folded newspaper, with yesterday's date and the headline, SHADOW KILLER STRIKES AGAIN - SLAYING IN L5 WARRIOR COMPLEX. Behind the desk was a giant painting, showing the legendary battle between Mefist the Infernal General and the Vampire Lord, Meier. The frame of the painting was composed of Souls of the Forgotten, stretched out and nailed in place with Time Seals. The room sent two messages: one, that the room's usual occupant was rich enough and confident enough to have his furnishings made out of other monsters, and two, that if you did anything out of line you could easily be the next item of furniture.
Fifteen was still looking at the painting when a tremendously cultured voice spoke: "You admire the artwork, I see. Costs me a small fortune to keep it free of Portrait's Secrets, but of course I make a small fortune everyday. Please, be seated."
The Goblins knocked Fifteen into the chair before the desk, and the Dark Ruler Ha Des passed by him. He wore blue velvet, draped around his body, with a massive bone chestpiece shaped as a skull. A black metal collarpiece hung out over his shoulders, laced with gold and studded along the edges with sapphires; in the center sat a massive ruby engraved with a suffering face. Red-stained metal covered his arms, and he wore a headdress of the same black and gold as his collarpiece. In one hand, he held a glass of wine. His very presence conveyed a warning of dire consequences should you act out of turn.
Settling into a throne that once was a XYZ-Dragon Cannon, the Dark Ruler sipped his wine and grinned, a terrifying sight if ever there was one. "I always thought the Shadow Killer would look a little different from the others of his kind. I appear to have made a mistake," he began. There was a long pause.
Catching on to his opening, Fifteen said, "There was. I haven't done anything they've accused me of."
"I doubted that from the start," Ha Des replied, setting his wine down. "You're one of the bureacrat class. If they've done anything of any importance in the Central Shadow Realm, I have yet to see it. And they would never do anything to disturb the order of this place."
Sensing another opening, the Witty Phantom asked, "Do you know who might have done it?"
"No, which startles me," the Dark Ruler answered. "I have nothing to go on. The more killings and other such crimes occur, the more likely it is the police will start blaming me. I have every impetus in the world to find the killer, and I have no clue who it is." There was another pause, too short for Fifteen to speak, and then he resumed. "I assume, then, that whoever is mimicking you also defeated Gaia?"
"Actually, that was me," Fifteen replied. "My guess is that whoever's doing the killings wasn't acting as me that time. And before you ask, no, I don't think I can win another battle like that."
"Pity," Ha Des said, draining his wineglass. One of the Blindly Loyal Goblins stepped forward and refilled the glass from a bottle that, judging from its looks and color, had formerly lived as a Dissolverock. As this took place, the general feeling of the room grew even darker... well, as much darker as a room furnished with other monsters could get. "I was hoping you could become part of the Syndicate. I suppose we shall have to resort to Plan B."
Something about the phrase made Fifteen's face turn a lighter orange. "Plan... B?" Behind him, he could hear the Ookazi guns click.
"Yes, Plan B. If your corpse, preserved and aura-tagged, is sent to the Central Shadow Realm Police Office... well, the case would be closed, would it not?" Something about the way Ha Des said the line made Fifteen doubt that a Plan A had ever existed. One of the Dark Ruler's fingers pointed at him, and dark energy danced on its tip. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Witty Phantom Fifteen."
Before the blast could be fired, a commotion from outside the office caused everyone, Fifteen included, to look to the door. A man in black plate, with purple hair and a band around one eye, was flipping his way through the room. Leaping through the door, he dropped an active magic cube on Ha Des's desk, shouted, "A gift from the Dark Scorpions!", and vanished in a cloud of smoke.
Exactly three seconds later, Ha Des had jumped down a Dimensionhole he'd kept in his pocket for times like this one, the Blindly Loyal Goblins had fled, and Fifteen was out the nearest window. A bolt of lightning obliterated the furnishings in the office the second after that.
***
For the second time in less than a week, Fifteen was laying on pavement, his hat a fair distance away from him, trying hard to keep his breathing regular. The impact had knocked the air of his lungs, and more likely than not, had also rebroken his ribs. And on reflection, he admitted to himself that it was still better than getting a grapefruit-sized hole blown through his chest.
Of course, he'd gotten lucky today. The Dark Scorpions were the Ha Des Business Syndicate's only real rivals, and this wasn't the first time Don Zaloog had shown up in person to destroy one of the Dark Ruler's headquarters. This would probably trigger another burst of violence between the Zombie and Warrior Quarters, where each were cloistered. But it would be violence that Fifteen wasn't part of, which was a plus.
The train of thought derailed as Don Zaloog himself bent over Fifteen. The crime boss tucked a folded slip of paper into the fiend's pocket, and began to walk away. Throwing himself into a sitting position, Fifteen watched...
...and saw the Don shiver before melting down and becoming a giant crow, which took to the air.
All of a sudden, pieces of the puzzle began to assemble themselves in the fiend's mind. Before he could focus, two sets of footsteps rushed up to him, and then he was yanked painfully upright and embraced from behind. The size of the arms made it clear who that was, and Fifteen painfully shouted, "Tessia! What the hell are you doing here?"
"The police showed up," Naomi explained as her friend hugged/throttled the Witty Phantom. "They didn't go into our apartment, but with your aura traces all over it, we decided it wasn't safe to be there anymore. So we've decided to help you out as much as we can."
Finally breaking loose from Tessia's grip, Fifteen took a couple of deep breathes, and then managed to smile, saying, "Well, thanks for the thought, but what are we going to do? It's not like we have anywhere to go." At that moment, the paper in his shirt pocket tickled him, and he unfolded it. The smile vanished, and he admitted, "Then again, I might have spoken too soon."
***
An hour later, the following conversation took place in Low-Level Zombie Housing Complex 3, also known as the Ha Des Hidey Holes.
"I'm here for Apartment 214."
"You need to give me proof of ownership."
"'I am sick and tired of conventional fixed-style jazz.'"
"Gotta question why the boss is giving one of our rooms to a Witty Phantom and friends, but it ain't my department. Here's the key, and if the cops show up, there's a Dimensionhole in the sink. Have a nice stay."
***
There were three absences in the Central Shadow Realm of note.
The Dark Magician, Spellcaster Representative, did not appear in the Shadow Council meeting that night. His aide, the Rogue Doll Tilde, stated he was on business elsewhere.
When the Dark Scorpions convened for a planning session in their lair, Don Zaloog didn't turn up. A search found him, bound and gagged behind his favorite bar. When asked what happened, he cursed about getting assaulted by a Blindly Loyal Goblin and vowed revenge on Ha Des.
And the whereabouts of Gaia the Fierce Knight were still unknown, although a trail of corpses seemed to lead steadily towards the Dragon Lairs...