Dōtonbori, Osaka — 1:10am. The Golden Devil was exhausted and out of luck. He was down to only two locations left, with every other cabaret he had scoped out so far turning up nothing but disappointment. Taking a break to eat and rest his bones, Kishin sat on the ground; his stomach full from five grilled pork buns. He had already enjoyed a heavy meal at the rendezvous earlier, but his metabolism was abnormally fast even by demonic standards.

—That should tide me over for now. Nothin’ like a midnight snack to get the cranial juices flowin’!

The street vendor who had sold Kishin the food starred wide-eyed at the blonde man sitting on the ground, now guzzling a beer after devouring the meat-filled delicacies like a starved wolf. The level of alcohol in the average human beer couldn’t get Kishin inebriated, he was accustomed to the strongest and most exotic drinks in the underworld. This was simply a palette cleanser.

“Thanks for the food, ma’am!” Kishin said, grinning at her after wiping the leftovers from his face onto his sleeve.

“Of course! Please come again, sir! I-I’m happy you liked my pork buns so much!” she laughed anxiously, never seeing such a bizarre feat accomplished in person.

Kishin stood back up, dumping his trash into a garbage receptacle that chirped happily once it entered the chute. Stretching his shoulders and cracking his knuckles, he pulled the now-crumpled list from his pocket. Every unsuccessful stop was crossed off. The last two awaited him, with the closest nearby being a four minute walk.

—So this one… ‘Muse’, huh? Sounds like a boring, cheap-ass place. Uggghhh… Finding a Grafter is harder than I thought.

He reached into his inner coat pocket and felt the locket clasped in place, running his fingers over the metal for reassurance.

“Can’t wait to sleep after this, darlin’,” he yawned. “Back in my nice, big bed again.”

The streets of the restless city had waned over the hours, reducing the number of pedestrians Kishin needed to wade through. At this time, most people were either in a bar or a bed, with the majority of folks walking next to the demon being drunk or homeless. Nevertheless, flashing ads continued to play on loop as one cycled to the next. The lessened noise of the former crowds led to each noisy advertisement becoming ever so clear to Kishin’s ears.

Pushing his way past the marketing deluge of products, he walked onward toward the cabaret named Muse. He passed over a bridge, closing in on his destination. To his left were two businessmen, staring into the stream of dark water below and laughing.

For a brief moment, he felt a blip of Tamashiryoku drop within a kilometer of his position.

—Is someone here tryin’ to hide from me?

Raising an eyebrow, he checked his surroundings; trying not to raise suspicion. After safely confirming they were nowhere near the vicinity, he adjusted his substream ring and made his way closer to the destination.

The first thing Kishin noticed was that this hostess club wasn’t a standalone location. By the looks of it, it was located within a tall multiple-story building. Walking up to it with a short stop, Kishin took a look at the signage posted on the building’s concrete and brick wall.

The sign listed nearly twenty different logos, all stacked on top of each other in separate boxes. After scanning upwards of nearly nine boxes, Kishin found what he was looking for.

—Club Muse, 4F.

Kishin looked over his options. There was a concrete staircase with an elevator tucked away further inside. He had enough walking for the night, so the elevator proved to be the obvious choice.

Before him was a waist-high chrome pedestal with circular LED embedded inside the top. Kishin tapped the circle, causing it to light up blue as the elevator doors opened.

He walked inside, turning to find the button for the fourth floor. Kishin tapped it, resulting in the doors sliding shut with a pleasant ding. Within the suspended cube, the demon spotted a few posters for various restaurants and clubs throughout the city. Seconds later, the elevator stopped and opened its gates for a final time as they reached the intended floor.

As he prepared to walk out, a person ran directly into him. Time nearly seemed to slow to a crawl as Kishin caught his balance. Before him was a girl: young with a white surgical mask on her face. She wore jeans and a festive black shirt with purple, cyan and hot pink designs.

Stretching his hand out as the girl nearly fell over, he caught her in his arms.

“Careful there, hon,” Kishin said with a smile. “What are you doin’ out this late? Ain’t it past curfew?”

The girl chuckled slight behind her mask and turned to see her savior better. Her green eyes narrowed slightly, studying the face of the spectacle-clad man with a golden braid. She had seen this face before, but never in person. Yet here he was, holding her in his arm.

Her heart began to beat fast like a rabbit’s. Not because she was flustered, no. She was terrified for her life.

Kuchisake felt a cold sweat run down her face as all the signs before her pointed to this being the Golden Devil, Kishin. A Jikininki. If he discovered what or who she was, she was good as dead. This man was known for having massacred fields of monsters. Even as a Poacher, she stood no chance.

“I-I’m sorry, please forgive me!” she said, escaping from his clutch and bowing.

Kishin relaxed his arm, letting it fall back to his side.

“Don’t sweat it,” he said casually while blocking the path to the elevator. “But really, why are you out so late?”

“Um… my mom said I shouldn’t talk to strangers…” Kuchisake lied, refusing to look in the demon’s direction. She knew from stories that Kishin was a master of interrogation and could dissect any stories she tried to spin. She had to just keep it simple, factual and deflective.

“Well, your ma is a smart woman…” Kishin said, eyeing her with his true sense. He could see her Tamashiryoku levels. They were low, but that didn’t mean jack. This girl could have been the person who lowered theirs not too far away. Kishin could also tell that her perspiration was increasing, as was her heartbeat.

—She’s terrified. Granted, I’m a grown man blocking her exit; but I’d rather be safe and accused of bein’ a perv than lettin’ more people die.

“Please, I must be on my way, now. I said I was sorry, and I’m trying to get over a cold…”

“Okay…” Kishin said.

—Should I see if she can see Ame-no-Ohabari? Normal humans can’t see the thing after all.

Before he could act on the suspicion, a pair of drunken salarymen stumbled around the corner and into both Kishin and Kuchisake. The men stumbled to the ground, their faces flushed from inebriation.

“Oi! What the shit are ya thinkin’, just standin’ there like a jackass!?” one of the salaryman said, still on the ground and looking up at Kishin.

Kishin took his eyes off Kuchisake and glared at the men, lowering his sunglasses to flash a glimpse of his blood-red eyes.

“You say somethin’? Look me in the eyes if you’re gonna pretend to be worth a damn.”

One of the men nervously nudged the one who insulted Kishin.

“S-Sir… I think this guy is yakuza… we should go,” he said in a whisper; his voice shaking.

The liquid bravado flowing through the other man’s blood could only do so much. He blinked a few times and turned away, refusing to look at Kishin.

“M-My apologies, sir… I thought you were someone else…” he muttered, quietly and ashamed.

Kishin nodded and readjusted his glasses. As the men scampered off toward the elevator behind him, he looked around for the young girl that had just been next to him.

She was gone, nowhere in sight.

—Goddammit. Must have fled down the stairs… Whatever, I’m sure it was nothin’. Hope I didn’t traumatize her too bad.

Kishin collected his bearings and winded the corner the salarymen came from, checking each glass door to his left for a placard displaying the name of the cabaret.

“Where are you…” he spoke to himself.

As if answering his question, he spotted it down the hall. A placard displaying the title of “Club Muse”. Approaching the door, he put on his drunkard persona once again for the night and entered.

Upon cracking the door, the scent of vanilla oozed out from the slit. The smell overwhelmed him, calmed him somewhat. He always wondered what it was about hostesses and vanilla that made them such a great pair, but he stored the thought away for later.

The atmosphere was dark, with scarce lighting and dark upholstery. He was getting the vibe that this place had a love for flowers and velvet, giving a luxurious yet seedy impression. It reminded him of those places set up as massage parlors that always entailed a happy ending for the discerning customer.

A woman greeted him at a wooden podium near the front entrance. Curtains were installed in front of every doorway, providing a level of privacy he didn’t see typically right up front.

“Welcome to Club Muse, sir~! Can I interest you in a private room today? Or perhaps, you’d like to peruse our listing of available hostesses for the night?”

“This a love hotel or a cabaret?” Kishin asked bluntly.

“O-Oh no, sir! Nothing of the sort! We only provide our customers with the most enjoyable service possible, but not at the expense of our staff.”

The woman smiled at Kishin, still retaining her level of customer service. Kishin peered around with his true sight, trying to search for any yokai or Limbo-bound beasties. He spotted some in the same room with him, waiting on benches and chairs in the main lobby. Kishin refused to make eye contact, merely spotting them from his peripheral vision. It struck him as odd however that none were beyond this point.

—Are they… waiting?

“Well listen, I’m in the mood for a party and I’m freakin’ stacked to high-heaven! So gimme the best treatment possible, I want the VIP package. The whole kit-and-caboodle~!”

The receptionist’s eyes widened as a look of hunger briefly flashed in them. She smiled, leading to her clasping her hands together.

“Oh, wonderful sir! You won’t be disappointed, we promise!”

“Good, get to gettin’!” Kishin laughed jovially. He pulled out a stack of Japanese yen with bills nearing digits in the sixes. With gusto, he slapped it down on her podium.

The woman was taken aback and quickly snatched up the money, sliding it into her uniform jacket.

Before Kishin’s eyes, the curtains masking the doorframe to his right slid apart as another woman ushered him inside with a smile.

“Right this way, sir~” she purred, her face dolled up with lipstick and eyeshadow. The outfit she wore didn’t leave much to the imagination either.

Kishin smiled at the lady, strolling up to her as she led him inside the hidden area. As she guided him, Kishin saw several tables set up in the large chamber of a room. In fact, it was larger than he would have initially suspected judging by the outside.

Directly in front was a small lit stage were several girls were performing a risqué dance to upbeat music. Situated in front of the stage were a few tables with women laughing and men drinking their fortunes away. Behind him, there was an elevated area with tables and more men talking and drinking with the hostesses.

“Which one am I gonna be at?” Kishin asked, having to raise his voice to be audible over the cluster of conversations and music.

“You’re in the VIP section, sir! Only the best in the house for you!”

They turned a corner and walked up a short flight of stairs, past the tables of others where Kishin could see the abundance of drunken businessmen.

—Something tells me those salarymen from earlier came from here originally.

They continued up the stairs until they reached more curtains, which the hostess pushed to the side.

“This way, sir,” she said sweetly.

Kishin definitely felt something odd about all of the women he had encountered, even the one at the entrance. She didn’t bother putting his cash into a register or safety box, nor did she reprimand him. She simply pocketed it. This was definitely a den of sin, but not the one most would suspect.

The demon walked past the velvety curtains and into a dimly-lit private room with a single booth-table combo and six girls standing by, waiting for him. They all had near-perfect features. Thin bodies, flawless skin and measurements that most would kill for. Their outfits were skimpy and meant for seduction, nothing else.

“Please, take a seat, sir.”

The girls all in unison motioned to the head of the table, his supposed throne.

—Just act like Grendel would. They should eat that shit up.

“Hehe, don’t mind if I do~” Kishin growled.

The women giggled as Kishin slid into the semi-circular booth until he reached the middle. The girls slid inside after him, trapping the assassin between a cushion of sweet-smelling ladies.

Meanwhile, the waitress bowed and gave him a menu that was pearly white and lined in gold foil.

“Take your time selecting, sir~! Allow us to usher you into a dream of pleasure~”

Kishin nodded as she left him to the girls in the dim room. There weren’t any bouncers, any cameras. He could do whatever he wished to these women. Which also meant they could do anything to him as well. As the women eyed him, he felt such a stare better belonged to a tiger than a hostess.

“So…” he trailed off before removing his sunglasses and tossing the menu aside. “Before we start, lemme get a bit comfortable.”

The women giggled cutely, wondering what he was referring to.

Kishin replied wordlessly by touching his ring, causing it to gleam slightly.

Ame-no-Ohabari materialized in his left hand, the sheathed katana extending outward across the round table as Kishin grinned.

Every single hostess present in the room immediately turned their attention to the divine blade in his hand and stifled screams back.

“T-The Golden…” one woman uttered, nearly soiling herself in sheer terror.

Kishin expelled an invisible wave of focused Tamashiryoku from his body which traveled throughout the room; causing every hostess around him to collapse unconscious from the onslaught of spiritual might to the senses.

He stood up and twirled his sheathed katana in hand while walking across the tabletop, chuckling darkly.

“Don’t mind me, ladies. This’ll only take a minute~”