Shinjuku, Male Prostitute District.
4:10 AM.
Outside a host club.
"Thank you for taking time out of your busy schedule to visit. We look forward to your next patronage."
The golden-haired, red-eyed Kyūso with a handsome yet rakish face led three or four underlings, repeatedly bowing and smiling obsequiously as they saw off a young woman wearing a face mask.
Only after the woman had completely left the district did Kyūso drop his act, turning to one of his underlings:
"Goro, close up shop."
"Got it." The red-haired, red-eyed man with heavy makeup immediately placed a "Closed" sign at the entrance after Kyūso entered, pulling down the shutter before following inside.
Inside the host club, six top-ranked hosts were each lounging on luxurious sofas, gulping down the watered-down alcohol left behind by tonight's customers.
As the newest member of the Old Rat Gang, Goro scurried in eagerly, approaching Kyūso on the central sofa:
"Boss, that last customer booked me for a love hotel the day after tomorrow. Can I not go?"
"Go, of course you'll go." Kyūso took a swig of red wine, glancing at Goro. "There's medicine in the locker in the changing room. Remember to take it before you do the deed."
"Boss? Do we really need medicine?" Goro looked baffled. "We're yokai, aren't we?"
Hearing this, the other hosts burst into laughter.
"Look at Goro, getting all cocky now!"
"I bet 500,000 yen this guy gets drained dry by those women within two weeks."
"I say one week!"
"I'll go smaller—today's customer alone could finish him off."
Listening to his seniors' raucous laughter, Goro's expression grew uneasy. He couldn't help asking his boss:
"Boss, did I say something wrong?"
"You're not wrong. We yokai are indeed stronger than humans."
Kyūso took out a cigarette pack, shook out two, handed one to Goro and lit his own:
"But let me ask you something."
"Goro, this is your first day working. How many women booked you? Tell the truth."
"Eleven," Goro answered somewhat awkwardly.
"Not counting the freebies, how many paid?" Kyūso blew a smoke ring.
"Three. Including the last one, four." Goro replied immediately.
Kyūso pondered for a moment. "40% conversion rate? Seems you're quite popular with the ladies."
After speaking, Kyūso exhaled another smoke ring:
"Then here's the question—four in just one day. What about tomorrow? The day after? A week? A month?"
"And that's just the women willing to pay. What about those who won't pay but are decent-looking? Will you take them?"
Goro the Rat hesitated before replying:
"If they're decent-looking, of course, I'd take them. But it'd be best if they could pay—I'm saving up for a stronger Abyss Artefact in Akihabara."
"Fine. If you're willing to take them all, how many times can you perform in a day?"
At this point, the Old Rat Gang leader's face twisted into a mocking sneer:
"Our group averages 20 times a day. Each client gets at least four or five rounds. You? You'd max out at four clients a day."
"One day is manageable. A week, you could tough it out. But a month? A year?"
"Even a yokai made of iron couldn't handle these human women."
"Get it now?"
Kyūso clapped Goro the Rat on the shoulder and warned:
"Money isn't important—your health is!"
"You're new here. Don't end up like us—pockets full but kidneys nearly useless."
Goro the Rat gulped at those words. He glanced around at the seniors and noticed their hands resting on their lower backs, faces etched with regret.
Shrinking his neck, Goro asked:
"So boss, should I still go to these booked appointments?"
"Of course you go! They're paying, aren't you?"
Kyūso grinned, his eyes glowing faintly red:
"If we don't go, how do we pay the Nura Clan's dues? What'll we eat and drink? How else can we afford Akihabara's treasures?"
"If someone's paying to get played by us, you go. Just watch out for the ones who won't pay."
"And if I run into non-payers?" Goro asked curiously.
Kyūso's grin widened further:
"Then report back, and the Old Rat Gang gets a feast tonight!!"
A chorus of gulps echoed through the host club.
Just then, a silver-haired host chimed in cheerfully:
"Boss, my regular sows are tapped out. Should we arrange their... final supper?"
Kyūso pondered before answering:
"Let them go for now. Lay low recently."
"Why's that?" The silver-haired host looked puzzled.
Kyūso explained: "Something's brewing at the main house. The Second Head ordered all groups to stay alert—probably some fools with a death wish eyeing the Nura Clan again!"
"For now, don't touch those worthless sows. Let them live a few more days."
"Tch, what a shame..." The silver-haired host sighed.
At that moment—
Clatter!
The sound of a rolling shutter being raised cut through the air.
Frowning, Kyūso shouted:
"Apologies, but we're closed for the day!!"
He shot Goro the Rat a look, signalling him to shoo the intruder away.
Goro immediately stood, heading for the entrance.
But then—
"Were you looking for me?"
Kyūso's pupils shrank violently as he spun around. There, lying face-up on the sofa, was an ancient-looking man staring directly at him.
At such close distance, Kyūso could still smell the foul stench emanating from the other party.
"You bastard!!"
Kyūso immediately leapt up to attack.
But at that moment, the silver-haired host sitting beside Kyūso brandished a knife, channelling what little Fear he possessed as he charged forward, shouting:
"Boss, get out of the way!!"
Hearing this, Kyūso instinctively tried to roll to the side on the sofa.
Yet in that instant, the silver-haired host plunged his knife straight into Kyūso's stomach.
The stabbed Kyūso initially felt nothing and immediately cursed:
"Fuck, Taro, what the hell are you doing?"
Only after cursing did the pain from his abdomen register, making Kyūso's legs buckle from the agony.
Then Kyūso heard Sogoro shout:
"Boss, let me help you!"
Kyūso turned his head with difficulty, only to see Sogoro thrusting a kitchen knife towards his chest.
Kyūso's pupils contracted. Instinctively looking towards that eerie old man from before, he saw the cunning, grotesque smile on the other's face.
"Boss, we'll help you!!" x7
Hearing this chorus, Kyūso's eyes widened as he roared:
"No—!!"
Before his voice faded, Kyūso was completely overwhelmed by his underlings' frenzied attack.
After Kyūso was thoroughly killed, the game of mutual slaughter began in earnest within the host club.
The long-headed old man stroked his white beard, sitting on the bloodstained sofa as he chuckled:
"Kuhuhu~~ What an amusing spectacle~~"
...
7:00 AM.
In a dilapidated temple deep within Adachi Ward's forests.
Minagoroshi Jizō, who hadn't slept all night, finally received his subordinate's intelligence report.