The witch doctor had a few seconds to berate himself for his carelessness before the girl opened her mouth again.
“What the hell is that?”
It took Duncan a moment to realise Hilda was pointing at the container he was holding. So she’d decided to change the topic of her focus. That was a relief.
Duncan turned his attention to the creature scurrying around in his magic cube. It was about the size of a forest scorpion and somewhat resembled one as well.
There was a sharp spike on its head, while its body was covered in tiny holes that appeared to be its mouths. Five pairs of dull beige appendages jutted out from its sides, making them look like a pair of skeletal hands fused to the insect.
The creature also had no visible eyes. Instead, a long, black, rubber-like tail flicked around, presumably acting as some sort of feeler.
Duncan narrowed his eyes in recognition. It had been two hundred years since he had bought one of these supernatural parasites as an ingredient for his elixir of life, but he remembered them all the same. These creatures normally dwelt in forests and fed on supernatural life energy from trees. What was this one doing in a human body?
“It’s a mystical parasite that originates from Japan,” Duncan explained simply. “Pray excuse me, I should be off now—”
Hilda bumped into Duncan as she shot forward at an incredible speed, blocking the doorway.
“The hell you are!” she snarled, putting her hands on her hips. “I just saw you do something… strange!”
“No, you did not,” Duncan replied nonchalantly, as though denying it could make her forget what she had seen.
“How do you know what that insect is? What were those glowing chains? Who are you— What are you? What are you doing here? Explanation, now.”
“Funny you should ask. Weren’t you the one who sent me the invite to this funeral?”
Hilda dropped her tough act, blinking in confusion. “Invitation? I did no such thing.”
Duncan frowned slightly.
“W— Wait! Stop distracting me!” Hilda sputtered, pointing at him again. “Answer my questions now!”
Duncan smirked at the demanding girl, who clearly had no idea how to intimidate anyone. “You are no master of mine. Why should I listen to your demands?”
“I’ll tell!”
He raised an eyebrow, still unimpressed. “Didn’t take you for a blackmailer, lass.”
“I’ll tell everyone that Duncan Ward is some sort of… I don’t even know what you are, but you’re not human!” Hilda stammered, trying to keep up a fierce front. “Now, explain to me what you just did, before the whole of England knows about your true identity!”
“And who, pray tell, is going to believe you?”
“They will when I show them this.”
Hilda waved the blue cubic prism triumphantly. “I’ve never seen anything like this before. Besides, I wasn’t the only one who saw you at the funeral; the other attendees will back me up!”
Kid’s got some sticky fingers, huh?
Duncan rolled his eyes at the childish display. “That is no toy, girl. Give that back before you accidentally set that parasite loose.”
Hilda put the cube in her mouth. “No! I’ll swallow it, I swear!”
“What did you say?”
“I said I’ll—”
Golden chains wrapped themselves around the cube without warning, and Duncan yanked it out of the girl’s half-open mouth. He snapped his fingers, and the cube vanished into the air. Hilda’s lips trembled slightly, but she wasn’t ready to give up yet.
“Please, good sir?” She stretched out a hand as far as she could and rested it on the door frame, batting her eyelashes while jutting her hip awkwardly to the side. “I’ll do anything you want. You can do anything you want to me.”
Duncan was ready to retch any moment now. “Knock it off, lass. You’ve no interest in your father’s mate.”
Hilda gasped as her terrible impression of a sultry temptress dissolved in an instant, giving way to something more comforting and familiar: an excited teenager.
“I knew it! You’re Charlie Ward!” She pointed at him, practically jumping up and down. “Let me guess, you’re some sort of… immortal vampire, aren’t you? That’s why you don’t look fifty. And those things you did… They were some sort of magic, weren’t they? That must be how you ‘healed’ my father back in the war! Go on, tell me I’m wrong.”
“Wow, that was really just a guess?” Duncan sighed in defeat. This girl sure wasn’t lying when she said she was a prodigy.
“You’re wrong, but I’ll explain anyway.” He shook his head, chuckling softly. “I suppose you deserve that much for your persistence.”
A wide grin broke on the girl’s face.
“Yes, I am the medic who healed your father’s legs with magic. I simply used a fake name back then; my real name truly is Duncan Ward,” Duncan said. “I am immortal, yes. But I am no vampire. I am just a witch doctor who has uncovered the secrets of immortality. Satisfied now?”
An incredulous expression quickly replaced Hilda’s victorious grin.
“Magic is real? Witches are real?” she breathed. “Then what happened to my father was…”
“Yes.” Duncan nodded. “He was somehow infected by this parasite, also called a Kiseigumo. I know not why it warped his body like so, but this Kiseigumo was clearly placed there by someone or something. Kiseigumos become active only in the presence of light, so they do not normally choose to live within the human body.”
The girl covered her gasp. “Does that mean Father was murdered?”
“I’m afraid so.”
“Mister Ward, please!” Hilda tugged on his arm. “You must help me find out who murdered him!”
“I will do no such thing.” Duncan pushed her hand away. “I am no paranormal investigator. Besides, I have not only helped you find out the cause of your father’s death, but also revealed my identity to you. I have done more than answer your questions, and it is past time I took my leave.”
“What?” Hilda exclaimed. “You can’t just leave like that! How about my father? How… How about justice?”
“You all have to die someday.” Duncan lowered his gaze slightly. “Does it really matter how you go?”
“You’ve got to be joking. An innocent man— Your old war comrade— has been murdered, and you don’t care. You’re good with this, Doctor?”
“Aye.” He shrugged, shifting his eyes away from the girl’s gaze. “Why not?”
“Well, I’m going to Japan to find out why my father was murdered.” Hilda folded her arms, looking at him expectantly. “And I won’t rest until I get to the bottom of this. It’s going to be dangerous, so I’m going to need all the help I can get.”
Duncan stared at her silently.
“Mister Ward, please.” The girl’s voice shook. “I can’t do this on my own.”
“Then don’t do it. Or go ahead with whatever you’re planning. I don’t care.” Duncan waved a careless farewell and snapped his fingers. “I only came for the funeral. What you do is none of my business.”
He stepped into a rectangular portal at his feet and left the mansion without another word.
~ ~ ~
A gentle breeze blew in through a window, although it did nothing to alleviate the pervasive humidity that was London’s June summer. The fans spun lazily over the mumbling crowd of men ordering rounds of spirits at the bar counter. All of them were clothed in dress shirts with Trubanized collars and various monochrome suits to complement their sober fashion.
Duncan was no exception.
He rolled up his white sleeves and lounged in the bar’s booth, sipping his champagne quietly. His fitted, snow-white shirt clung to his damp back, while his grey suit helped cover up the wet patches.
The bar got increasingly noisy as more people began walking in. After all, it was about nine in the evening. And that meant it was about time for Duncan to leave before the bar’s temperature rose even further. He picked up his fedora and left a bill under his wine glass—
“Have you heard? The Yankees just overcame the last Japanese resistance in Okinawa.”
Duncan glanced at the two conversing patrons and surreptitiously sat back down on his cushioned bench.
“Aye. Finally, eh? Heard their Lieutenant General committed suicide too.”
“Heh, that bloke’s probably just too cowardly to face the consequences of his actions. Serves those Japs right. I can’t believe the last ferry to Japan is tonight. Who would even think of going to that place at this time?”
“Fat-heads, probably.”
Hilda Harvey popped into Duncan’s mind as laughter roared. He didn’t exactly feel good about turning her down earlier, but he couldn’t let such a small matter give him an excuse to get involved with the world again.
The girl’s father was dead, and nothing she did now could change that. If she was stupid enough to go after Bertram Harvey’s killers, then it was on her. Who in their right mind would try and enter a war-torn country? Surely she wasn’t that much of a fool to go after a bunch of supernatural murderers by herself?
Duncan jolted out of his seat and walked briskly out of the bar, muttering inaudibly to himself.
No. He couldn’t— He wasn’t about to go to her aid now. No way. Absolutely not. He was just in a hurry to get back home and sleep the night away, that’s all. He didn’t have the energy to deal with—
Duncan found himself in a dark alley once his buzzing thoughts retreated from his mind. He looked around; there was no one nearby to witness anything. In other words, a perfect place to cast a portal. He sighed, cursing his demanding conscience for bringing him here.
Damn it, Harvey. You owe me.
The witch doctor snapped his fingers as a portal materialised in front of him.
~ ~ ~
Duncan had contemplated contacting Lucy and bringing her along, but he decided not to in the end. If everything went well, all he had to do was wait at the ferry station for ten more minutes before the last ship to Japan sailed away. Lucy might as well spend the night doing something else more productive instead.
The immortal man leaned back against the cooling wall, letting the sea breeze blow the swirling memories from his head. In the old days— fifty years, maybe a century ago— this port used to be filled with bulked-up sailors moving crates from their expeditions halfway across the world. Those were peaceful times, especially before the world began to get a whole lot smaller.
Now, the ports ran on a skeleton crew, with a large proportion of cargo diverted to war efforts. The majority of sailors had only just come back from the frontlines of war, and most of them were still in recovery centres.
A few scattered cargo ships rolled past, while cranes shuddered and turned. Seagulls squawked atop their masts while workers crawled on the decks below them. Duncan watched with a small smile on his face. The world may have come far from giant wooden sailboats, but some things never change.
“Ugoki O Tomeru!”
Duncan tilted his head to the commotion around the corner. A high-pitched scream followed shortly. He frowned slightly; hearing someone speaking Japanese in London was odd, especially during these times.
The man pushed himself off the wall and walked briskly to the source of the noise.
He peeked around a low brick wall and creased his eyebrows. It was a mugging, no doubt about that. The moon was bright and full tonight, but the writhing figures were in the shadows. To make things worse, it was far away from the main port. Someone could fire off a gun here, and no one else would be any wiser.
“Oi, let her go!”
The figures stopped moving, and two men looked up at the source of the voice. Their faces were masked, but the surprise in their eyes was as clear as day. Both of them were dressed in dark blue and blended in almost perfectly with their dark surroundings.
“N— Nani Kore?” the shorter of the two shouted in surprise, letting go of the woman’s bag. Recognition flashed in Duncan’s eyes.
“I said, let her go,” Duncan repeated himself, but in Japanese this time. “Before you punks each get a bullet in your head.”
The muggers’ eyes shot to the pistol he was holding before backing away cautiously. Duncan kept the gun trained on the two men, motioning for them to leave. He cocked the pistol threateningly for good measure.
After a few more seconds, the muggers scurried off and vanished into the night, muttering under their breaths.
The witch doctor’s illusion of a pistol dispersed into the air with a puff of smoke. He reached for the girl still sprawled on the floor.
“Hilda! Aye, ya alright?"16Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡo1f2bNsMP3
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