4 Marketing

"Black Magic Way," Yako chuckled as he took that brochure to read. "Almost sounds like a brochure for the car."

"Hocus-pocus and a clucking chicken wriggling with its neck slit… interesting read," Yako continued his sarcastic tone as he flipped through the pages. 

"Nail clippings and items of the owners… burning up, banging coconuts together, needles stuck into a doll," he read on and added, "you might as well throw in examples of human sacrifices. They used to do that in the good old days. Arakawa river is full of so many bodies that even old Arakawa is wondering who gave them the idea."

Oh, the good old river god sacrifices. Who could forget that? Raging rivers? Not to fear, throw a human in! Human desperation at another's despair.

And then the usual bury-them-alive under those old castles. Surprisingly, some of the old Japanese castles with their buried human foundations still stand, despite the earthquakes. Perhaps it was the body decomposing into a better cement.

Ahh, things came too far from the sweet old ancient days when Yako and I would be regarded as god-like. 

"Against their laws now," I answered. 

"Uh huh and you are so law abiding," he yawned as his eyes continued to pour over the brochure. "Your business is dealing death to one on behalf of the other. That's against human law - to kill each other."

"Well, think of it this way. I am working under gray lines, like you. Unless they can find evidence of the supernatural which these humans are still undecided on. So let's just cut the crap. So what's your idea if you don't want them to have their way? That's usually what increases the sales of our associates." I was annoyed by now. 

Every darn yōkai was operating a business of sorts. The smarter ones had their hands in the social media industry. Some even published gory manga under an anonymous pen name. Shape up or ship out.  All had to pander to human needs. 

Global travel via airplanes, before the damn virus hit, expanded our once tiny island business models regionally, like mine, or even internationally, like those manga creating yōkai. Yako focused on adherents, although it was almost unbelievable in this century of science that he could rake them in.

Then again, who am I to talk - mine was on a worse level, akin to dark sorcery. 

"And increases your difficulty in the execution. Tell them to go into generics now. Some excuse about expending a lot more time and effort. And if not, add costs. Oh, I am sure your associates can bullshit their way out of this," he said. 

He had a point. After all, the main goal is to kill the target. Anything in between is a bonus. Slow or fast. Horrifying or not. However, financials posed a difficulty. The 20-80 split on customised work was more lucrative.Never offend the wrong human or keep them alive if they swore revenge. Some of them can dream of the worst to do to their own kind, than us, both ghosts and yōkai.  

"Before you came along with that killing business, I was already in the pleasure business. Those old Hanamachi, villages of the flowers ala prostitutes ran a very simple model. Pleasure is the objective. Perversity is the seller and they charge by joss sticks. Time is money. Not customized whatever you have." he pointed at the pricing page on what to charge. "Keep it simple stupid."

A loud tell-tale iPhone alarm went off. Both of us checked our phones. 

"Mine," Yako declared almost triumphantly. 

His expression changed the moment he read the message. His ice cold charming kitsune grin flipped into a frown. A few taps on his iPhone and a projector from above whirred into action. The screens of every closed circuit surveillance camera in his territory, ala the club, appeared on the large white wall in front of us. 

"Apologies, one of those death cults on the loose again." His eyes gleamed. 

A reddish glow flashed in his eyes. 

"Found the morons." 

Never fuck with any yōkai's business. Especially an old ass kitsune. The kitsune can sniff out information so easily that they will know your correct underwear size and the last date you had sex, before they enter within 20 meters of you. 

"How many?"

"Five fiddling with the expected places - my main ventilation input system plus the fire alarm system," he shrugged, and then he turns to me with that sly grin. 

I don't like the look on his face. Something was up. 

"We have two virgin losers there, and I seem to recall that your father's power used to be greatly spurred by virgins consumed . I am wondering… does his daughter's powers take after his."

Oh yeah, he is fishing alright. Never ever seen me in full form before. And probably doesn't know what I can do. This was the only other way yōkai find out about their opponents without injury - watching me fight others. Not that easy, pal. 

It could also be a takedown to weaken me. The old clam, stork and fox story wasn't a fable. The author was a kitsune, taking a piss at his defeated opponents. Stork gets beak caught by the clam, fox comes in and eats up the two losers. The end. Somehow that story landed up in the human hands and became popular.

I like games. I can play. Any chance to hunt the good old fashion way is irresistible to most yōkai. Except I am the fox now, not the clam or the stork. 

"Time to start the game." He stood up as the shadows of his invisible ten tails appeared on the wall. Each tail represented 1,000 years of his life. That's how old this dinosaur is. 

Not to mention how he wrecked the Heian period with his female form. He successfully marketed himself to an emperor and created mayhem in the imperial court. Not to mention, after associating with the Chinese entities, they also mentioned someone quite familiar, ahem, wrecking an ancient dynasty long before Japan was even unified, via the same 'sleep to the top' approach. 

Humans claimed that he was exorcised. Give me a break. Yako marketed that to get them off his back. 

Come to think of it. He's rather hot. Too bad. I am not human.