Kurokumo

Boris looked around himself. Thin sliding doors and paper walls surrounded him. Lanterns of smoldering oil hung from the ceilings and walls, casting shadows that flickered on the white and wood backdrop.

Here was the Kurokumo's clan hall. The room was currently half full, with nearly two dozen clansmen each spread four feet apart, kneeled on the straw floor.

"Ten minutes have passed. Begin the headcount, Patriarch."

Kalo's gravely voice cut through the silence.

Boris watched as the Patriarch of the Kurokumo stood from his kneeling position, briskly tallying the attendance.

The boy adjusted his wide sunglasses. His metal knuckles were already fitted onto his hands.

Within the Patriarch's view, the man could see the Heirs, his sons and daughters who were deemed to have sufficient talent to be nurtured.

Placed closer to the front were the four Dons, the tutors of the Heirs. Included among them were the Dark Cloud Blade and the Crescent Moon.

The Dons were the true talents of the clan, but for whatever reason they were deemed to have inferior potential compared to the Heirs by birth, only to be used as tools for the clan.

The Heirs were destined to inherit more authority within the clan than the Dons ever would.

By the Patriarch's side were the council members. They were all previous Heirs of the clan.

"All higher ranks are present, Sottocapo. Four Dons, ten Councilmen, and seven Heirs." The Patriarch lowered his knees, his body once again curling flat on the tatami floor.

Kalo rested his boot on the Patriarch's rough black hair, stroking his beard as he did. Finally, he spoke.

"That Proxy messed with my plans."

The Kurokumo clansmen stiffened at the mention of that title, a name synonymous with power equal to the man in front of them.

Kalo shrugged.

"But no matter. After all, the burden falls on your shoulders now, so don't disappoint me like the mutts did."

The Patriarch's mouth trembled open.

"I don't quite understand, what is the burden, master?"

Kalo lifted his foot, allowing the man beneath him to breathe.

"You've heard rumors of the Capo Killer, right? I'm interested in that kid's true strength. That's where you guys come in."

A nauseating chill down the Patriarch's spine. Of course they've heard about him, the Capo Killer. The name alone was frightening enough, yet the garish video of the fight itself...

The Patriarch had enough common sense not to voice his complaints. He only nodded subserviently.

However, near the back, an Heir couldn't contain himself.

"What are you talking about?? What good would we have against a 'Capo Killer'? Send your own Cap-!" The boy shut up as his father sent a hideous glare at his direction.

The Patriarch made a rushed attempt to cover his son's mistake.

"Sottocapo, please ignore my son! I will punish him severely!"

Kalo glanced into the man's pleading eyes with apathy.

Without warning, Boris pointed at the Heir who doubted the Sottocapo.

"You. Come forward."

The boy wobbled to his feet. Cold sweat beaded down his forehead as he realized the severity of his mistake. He had heard the rumors, yet he never expected-

He flinched as Boris flickered behind him, kicking the middle of his spine with enough strength to lift the boy cleanly from the ground.

The Heir let out a pained scream.

As the boy crashed beside Kalo's foot, Boris adjusted his knuckles with a linen handkerchief.

"Last words?"

The boy couldn't even form a coherent sentence before Boris pinned him on his stomach. The other clansmen tried to shift their eyes away, but Kalo interrupted them.

"Avert your eyes and you are next."

The Kurokumo watched in horrified silence.

Boris pulled his fist back. The Capo twisted into a wide grin as his knuckles crunched into the Heir's bones.

Tearing off the boy's jaw.

The Heir writhed with agony and desperation, flimsily struggling against the Capo's iron grip.

His screams became birdlike in its shrill, ear-grating quality, distorted with blood.

The first blow morphed into the second, the second to the third, the third to the fourth, and so on, for nearly a minute.

At last, the Patriarch's third son was reduced to nothing more than a pile of mashed meat, connected to a headless corpse.

Sometime during the tenderization, the Capo's sunglasses had fallen from his head. Beneath his sunglasses were hideous black scleras, and pupils of pure white.

As Boris stood up, he wiped the flesh from his knuckles. He took out another pair of sunglasses from his coat, leaving the corpse on the ground as he hid his eyes once again under the unfeeling plastic.

Around the tatami mats was a garish splatter of blood, about two meters in diameter.

"Any others?" Boris cawed as no one dared to meet his gaze. He stepped back, allowing the Sottocapo to continue.

And so Kalo did, without pause.

"Send your men to test that kid. I want to see your best efforts."

"Y-Yes, Sottocapo. But what shall we do if," the Patriarch paused, "we have the opportunity to kill the boy?"

Kalo rubbed his smoky white beard, a smile emerging in his expression.

"I like the confidence! Well, if you guys can get to that point, that means the kid wasn't so interesting after all. Make him suffer for it."

The Sottocapo's voice hardened as he imagined the disappointment he would feel if such a scenario occurred.

The Patriarch gulped. Kalo hoped that they would fail.

Yet, there was nothing they could do to complain about it. They had the evidence of what would happen if they complained, seeping into the tatami mats in front of them.

"Yes, Sottocapo. Is there anything else?"

Kalo turned toward the exit, waving his hand dismissively.

"No. My Capo will stay here to brief you of the necessary information."

Kalo slid the door shut behind him, leaving the Kurokumo clansmen behind, along with the Capo who, only seconds ago, killed one of the Heirs of their clan.

No one dared to speak up.

It was Boris who broke the silence.

"You, you, and you," he pointed at the three kids near that back that appeared the most distressed, "Clean this up."

The three Heirs tore their eyes away from their brother's corpse, fear and dismay etched in their expressions. In an instant, a bond they shared for over a dozen years was crushed away, just like that.

They began to shuffle out of the room for cleaning tools, only for Boris's voice to stop them.

"What's the hurry? Come here. Y'all have hands, don't you?"

They froze. The room stood still as the three Heirs shuffled back to the corpse.

The silence was broken as one of their hesitating hands mulched into the mound of mashed flesh, filling the girl's palms with a slurry of bone, flesh, and brain matter.

Their faces puffed up with vomit. The only thing they could do was swallow the contents of their stomachs again.

Even the Patriarch, the Dons, and the Councilmen had their gazes glued to the floor in terror.

This was the power of a Capo. Especially this Capo, who despite his young age, seemed to have an even more vicious aura than Stella.

Suddenly, the door leading to the outside slid open again.

The Sottocapo appeared to have changed his mind.

He gave a disinterested glance at the soon-to-be-removed corpse beside him.

"Dark Cloud Blade, come forward."

There was no elaboration. Just a single command.

Sayako stumbled to her feet. The other Dons behind her tried to give her their best attempts at reassuring smiles. Though, the smiles looked more like grimaces.

The nape of her neck was nearly horizontal to the floor as she stepped forward. She didn't dare raise her head.

"I-Is there anything I may do for you?"

Sayako dug her mind for a reason why the Sottocapo would call her out.

The blood in her face drained away as the silence stretched. She was reminded of that painful memory, so many years ago.

Faced with the man who killed her mother, she couldn't feel anger. Only mind-numbing terror.

"You've grown into quite the beauty, girl."

Sayako pursed her lips.

How was she supposed to respond to that?

"T-Thank you, Sottocapo."

Kalo chuckled.

"Stand straight. Look at me." His voice carried a dreadful authority.

Sayako complied. Her heart froze as her eyes met his.

The man's smile did not reach his apathetic gray pupils.

"Take your arm away from your back."

Sayako grit her teeth, producing an audible crack from her molars.

The Sottocapo must have caught on. During the meeting, it took all of her effort to hide her husked arm from the man's view.

Her hand shakily entered the light. The air surrounding her glove darkened with sickly black powder that flaked ceaselessly from the seams of the leather wraps.

Boris raised an eyebrow beneath his sunglasses.

"Remove the glove."

With a minute of struggle, the macabre abomination surfaced into view.

Behind her, with the exception of the Patriarch, all the Kurokumo clansmen sucked in a breath of cold air.

In her caution, Sayako had only shown the true extent of her injury to the Patriarch.

The horrid, twisted 'arm' crackled and whispered mindlessly in the open air. Kalo's eyes, once bored, now held a glimmer of interest.

"This reeks of a story. Tell me how you got this."

Despite the Sottocapo's crushing presence, Sayako shied her gaze away. Clearly, something held her back.

"I-I got it... from a fight."

"With whom?"

Sayako clenched her fist. If she told him that the culprit was Sophie, would that shift the Sottocapo's attention to the girl too? Would he send her clan to kill the girl, just like with Asher?

The woman hesitated.

Hesitation.

Without a word, Boris's metal knuckles clashed together behind her, igniting the end of her slate grey kimono with a shower of sparks.

Like a ravenous beast, the heat began to scorch her skin.

The blaze spread.

Sayako clenched her teeth as the flame consumed her ankles, digging into her flesh like molten lead.

Kalo twisted Sayako's head to meet his eyes.

"Talk to me, girl. Who was this character you fought with?"

Soon the air reeked of burnt flesh.

Still, Sayako was a Don of the Kurokumo. Not a single noise came from her as her flesh began to sublimate from the bone.

The Sottocapo sighed.

"Well, there's one person with some willpower around these parts, at least." He snapped his fingers at his Capo. "Boris, put the fire out."

The boy took out a flask of gelatinous balm from his coat. He coated his finger with the crystal blue jelly, flicking it onto Sayako's burn wounds.

As the balm spread across the woman's legs, a bubbly foam mixture covered her skin, both snuffing the flame and soothing her skin.

Sayako stared straight ahead, not quite into the Sottocapo's eyes, yet not quite at the ground, either.

This was her display of defiance.

However, Kalo's expression only held mocking pity toward her.

"Oh, girlie... You just made my day."

Sayako couldn't even scream before the man's grip mashed her throat shut. Her flailing shoes scraped the floor as her feet left the ground.

"Nod if you have anything to say, understand?" The coarse, gravelly voice whispered in her ear.

Terror seized the woman's mind. She couldn't think, much less form a comprehendible nod.

Sayako's body writhed in desperation as the blood vessels to her brain closed shut.

"Law: Interrogation. If the witness cannot answer the question aloud, three bones shall be revealed from their body."

Kalo's eyes flashed with gold.

Boris held his breath in anticipation. Excitement.

The questioning began.

"Tell me, who did you fight with to get that arm?"

Sayako could not respond. She let out a horrid, gagging screech, but the words couldn't form in her mouth.

Of course, that was only natural, given that her throat was sealed shut.

The man's eyes flashed with gold.

"GRHGK!!" The blood vessels in Sayako's eyes burst as each of her muscle fibers convulsed simultaneously.

Her femur, tibia, and ankle 'revealed' themselves, the bones grinding into powder and leaking out through the sweat pores on her skin.

Her pupils shook as she pleaded with the Sottocapo below her.

The man answered her silent pleas with another question.

"Tell me, who did you fight with to get that arm?"

Sayako desperately mouthed the answer. It was Sophie. Sophie. Sophie. Please, it was Sophie!

Anything to stop the pain. Nothing mattered except the pain.

Kalo's face twisted into a grin.

So it was that girl, back in the ring. The same girl who disintegrated one of his Soldatos in a single blow.

Sayako's eyes filled with tears as the man shook his head, that same mock pity plastered on his expression.

Her mouth began to vibrate with fear. Sophie, Sophie! It was that girl, that Fixer, Sophie! I told you the answer, let me go!

The words streamed through her lips, silently. Her body screamed the answer, yet her voice could not.

Kalo stared into her mind.

"You're still silent, dollie."

Technically, he was correct.

Technically, the words were not spoken out loud.

And technically, the man's crushing grip on her neck was completely fair play.

His eyes flashed with gold.

Sayako let out a wordless screech of agony, her eyes rolling to the back of her head. This time, it was her sternum, collarbone, and jaw that 'revealed' themselves. Flecks of marrow seeped down her slate-grey robe. Her face melted like slag metal.

Her mouth frothed with a mixture of spit and blood. Her chest rattled as the spit flowed down her windpipe, cleaving her body with a fit of seizurous, sputtering coughs.

Red mist dampened the air.

All of this played out before the Kurokumo Clan.

No one moved.

This was why they were a subsidiary of the Thumb.

Sayako began to convulse.

Her face was a bruised mess of purple and red. Symptoms of fatal asphyxiation.

It was a miracle that she was still alive.

For now.

Scattered across her face were splotches of crimson, where veins and arteries had ruptured from the sheer blood pressure.

"Ah, I've broken another one..."

The Sottocapo muttered under his breath, half bored, half amused.

But then the man froze.

He felt a sickly vitality re-enter the body in his hand.

The woman's face regained color as she took in the first breath in minutes, and her blackened arm began to siphon the air around it into her body.

Sayako's aura morphed.

The lights hung from the ceiling flickered twice before fizzling away.

Her left arm let out an otherworldly howl. With the howl, the woman's deboned body quickly regained its structure.

Although Sayako's body was limp, the husk twisted forward and seized the Sottocapo's arm by his wrist.

Inch-deep holes punched into the arm, creating a disgusting black honeycomb texture on its skin.

The holes blinked, revealing a sea of bloodshot, yellowish eyes.

They locked onto the Sottocapo's figure.