Free Tale of the Dead Town by Hideyuki Kikuchi Page A

his shoulder in disbelief. “You dirty bastard,” he growled. “You mean to tell me my
     gaze didn’t work on you?”
    D got to his feet without saying a word.
    Just as he was about to launch himself at the Hunter, the intruder stiffened. His
     already pale face lost even more color. D’s aura had just hit him.
If I move, I’m as good as dead
, he thought.
    “Any more of your kind around? Before you answer that, you’d better tell me your name,”
     D commanded him softly. Calm as his voice was, it had a ring of steel to it that said
     no resistance would be tolerated. “Answer me. What’s your name? Are you the only one?”
    “No, I’m not . . . ” the intruder replied.
    “How many others are there?”
    “One.”
    “What’s your name, and what’s theirs?”
    The intruder began to tremble. Every inch of him shook, as if he were struggling against
     the threat that ensnared him.
    “You don’t have to tell me,” D said. “If I check you against the resident lists, I
     should find out who you are. Step outside.”
    The man nodded. Slowly he made his way to the door to the front hall. D followed behind
     him. Something caught lightly at the Hunter’s coat. Laura’s pale hand. Most likely
     the action was merely a reflex, and not some effort to save the intruder. However,
     D’s attention was diverted for a split second, and the spell he had over the other
     man broke. The intruder’s body lost its shape. Wasting no time, the fog rushed for
     the door’s keyhole like a black cloud and poured through it in a single stream.
    D’s right hand went into action. A flash as bright as the moon arced over his right
     shoulder, and the intruder who was supposedly safely on the other side of the door
     gave a scream of agonizing death. D’s expression actually changed. Quickly opening
     the door, he peered beyond it—into the mayor’s living room.
    Before him was the intruder, now leaning backward. A sharp wooden tip poked from the
     left side of his back. From the waist down, the man remained in his fog-like condition.
     With a deep groan, the intruder fell to the floor, both hands clutching his own throat.
     It seemed that the fog was probably his true form after all. His fallen body soon
     covered itself in a black hue and curled up on the floor with a rustling sound.
    “What do you think you’re doing?” D’s quiet tone harbored an unearthly air.
    “Nothing, I was just . . . ” Dr. Tsurugi stammered, shaking his head. “I heard a strange
     sound and I froze in my tracks, trying to figure out what I should do, when all of
     a sudden . . . My eyes met his, and then I just panicked and ran him through.”
    Not saying a word, D merely gazed at bits of fog spreading across the floor and the
     stake dripping with black blood. “How did you get in here?” the Hunter finally asked.
     His voice was far more terrifying than any heated tone could’ve been.
    “I snuck in,” said Dr. Tsurugi, giving the sack over his shoulder a pat. There was
     a loud clatter that suggested it contained a hammer and stakes. “But everything’s
     taken care of now, right?”
    “It seems we face two foes.” Heedless of the changes those words wrought on the physician’s
     expression, the Hunter continued. “One may be gone now, but we don’t know the whereabouts
     of the other. Are you sure there haven’t been any other victims? None at all?”
    Dr. Tsurugi nodded.
    “The girl’s probably back to normal,” said D. “Go check on her.”
    “Sure,” the young physician replied, and he was just about to nod his head. Then his
     eyes halted at the legs of the corpse that’d been reduced to dust. There was a gap
     of a fraction of an inch just below the knees. “It almost looks like . . . You cut
     him, didn’t you?”
    Giving no reply, D squatted down by the dusty remains. Once he was sure Dr. Tsurugi
     had gone through the door, the Hunter stretched his left hand over the dust. “How
     about it?” he