On Astral Tides: From Humble Freelancer To Astral Emperor

Chapter 33: Thirty-Two


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I spent quite some time trying to teach Shaeula and her Kamaitachi about compression and vibration. They understood forming wind into sharp blades, which was a type of compression, but weren’t really sure how they were doing it. I don’t think she quite grasped it, but there would be time to expand on it further later. Returning to the Material plane I woke up to the taste of coppery blood, and stabbing daggers of pain all over my skin, as well as several more piercing injuries.

Touching the skin of my face I winced. It was as if I was sunburned, the skin abraded and peeling. Damn, that jorogumo did a number on me. Blood was staining the shorts and t-shirt I was wearing when I projected, and though the wounds underneath had scabbed over they were still hot and tender to the touch. Going to the bathroom I rinsed out my mouth, water turning pink from the dried blood. Looking in the mirror I could see I looked a mess, my hair untidy and burned in places, my skin pale and scabbed all over.

Wow, I look like shit. I had plans today and they involved going out, but I couldn’t like this, as I looked like a homeless person. Oh well, if I consider what I gained from the battle, this is a price worth paying… I guess.

I ran a bath and spent quite some time scrubbing at my body, removing the scabbing and dead skin. The only areas I left were the ones with the deeper injuries. Applying some bandages I finished making myself look passable, though I would have to do something about my hair as well.

Returning to my computer I dug out the required documents and went online. My plan was to re-open an old British bank account I had when I was younger. Since my mother was British it wasn’t too much of a problem and it was quickly done. Now all that was required was transferring a suitable amount of seed funds. That would involve going out though.

Fetching a hooded sweatshirt out of my closet, I grimaced as I pulled it on. Shit, with the heat of the day I’m going to look shady as hell, and I’m going to be really uncomfortable. Still, I look like crap and I don’t want anyone I know to see me like this… I compromised by not wearing a t-shirt. Chugging an iced tea from my fridge it was time to go.

The heat was as oppressive as I thought it would be, sun beating down, causing me to sweat instantly, droplets running down my back and starting to soak my hoodie. If I could use wind energy to create a breeze it would be perfect, but unfortunately I had only regained a little after my battle with the jorogumo. Jogging swiftly into town I boarded the metro which was quieter during the midday heat and watched the scenery pass by. Damn, this place gives me bad memories…

Several minutes later I had arrived at my destination, about three miles from my apartment. It was a busier shopping district, an area that also housed my local bank, as well as various large department stores and a small handful of other facilities like a bathhouse and a couple of hotels for poor tourists and backpackers. The buildings were taller than the area around my home, although obviously not a patch on Tokyo-proper. In fact, looking into the distance the day was so clear I could just about make out the shadows of skyscrapers in the distance. Now if I was a rich man and one of those was my starting Territory, I wonder how much easier my life would be…

Wiping sweat from my brow under my hood I began walking. There were a fair few people around, either shopping or grabbing some lunch, and I was feeling very self-conscious, hidden away in my hoodie in this sweltering heat. As I moved through the streets I noticed a barber shop, which gave me another idea…

Twenty minutes later I was the in the chair, hood down, an older lady coming through my hair.

“My, my, what happened to you?” she asked, looking at the missing pieces and burned ends. “It almost looks like your head caught fire…”

“Well, it was a work-related issue.” I deflected with a faint smile. “But I know it looks stupid, hence the hoodie. I’m not really enjoying walking around in this heat all covered up.”

“Oh I know it can be embarrassing when your hair doesn’t look right, I definitely do.” She nodded. “So, how would you like it?”

“Just tidy it up a bit, that’ll be fine.”

“Tch.” The hairdresser clicked her tongue “That would be such a waste for a handsome man like you. You clearly look after yourself and work out, so your hair and personal grooming need to reflect that.”

I look after myself? Work out? Following her gaze I looked at my bare arm which was out of the rolled-up sleeve of my hoodie. It did look pretty muscular, a fair difference from the thin arm I had only a few weeks ago. Glancing sideways at the mirror I could see my face had changed a bit as well. I was hardly fat before (I didn’t eat enough for that!) yet my face was still a bit loose and flabby, but now if you ignored the lingering damage from the jorogumo my face looked tighter and manlier.

Holy hell. It really is different when you see yourself from someone else’s perspective. I didn’t really notice as I didn’t pay much attention to myself, but I had definitely toned up. If I didn’t know better I’d say I had been going to the gym for months…

“Well, I do try to keep in shape. For work and all.” I managed weakly, bringing another smile from the hairdresser.

“Why don’t you let me style you up, take advantage of your good features?” she asked, and I had no reason to refuse…

 

********

 

A little later I left the barber shop with a new haircut. It suited my face quite a bit, and I was feeling pretty good. If still damn hot. The hairdresser had flattered me shamelessly all through my cut, and while I knew a lot of it was the typical banter any professional would say, I had to admit it felt good being praised for my self-improvement.

The boost from levelling up has helped in so many ways. I really want more of it. The frightening struggle with the jorogumo had largely faded from my memory now, the success occupying my mind. Still, that alone would not be enough. I had several tasks to complete and then I could commence my master plan. And if that worked… well, I would be a success indeed!

My bank was a smaller local one, with only a couple of branches. It didn’t take too long to see a teller, who helped me transfer funds across to my new British bank account. The currency conversion fees stung a little, but the exchange rate wasn’t too bad at the moment at least.  Still, moving roughly two hundred and eighty thousand yen across hurt, so if this went wrong… my plan does depend a lot on luck… even with my current favourable fortune it could definitely still go wrong…

Still, even if it did it wouldn’t be a hammer-blow. I would just have to do more work to top-up my funds. Besides, it would be foolish to imagine defeat before I had even tried. Walking through the hot afternoon I stopped for a beer at a small corner pub. This quickly became several, accompanied by a few grilled chicken skewers. Once I had eaten my fill I set off back towards the station, heading down a back alley next to the pub.

“Hey bitch, don’t struggle so much. All we were doing is asking you to have a drink with us.” From up ahead I heard those harsh-sounding words, loud and threatening. I could just about make out the faint response of someone else, probably a woman, before several voices were raised in crude laughter.

This doesn’t sound good. My fists clenched reflexively. My first thought was to turn around and go back, but I quickly decided that wasn’t the right move. Pulling up my hood to hide my face I crept forwards quietly, until I came to an alley intersection, by a half-filled vending machine.

As I had suspected, there was a young woman huddled against one wall, surrounded by four men. The girl looked to be quite young, in her late teens maybe, though I was no judge of age, and she wore a grey skirt and white blouse, the typical attire of a working woman, possibly an office worker. Her light brown hair was pulled up into a ponytail, and her handbag, a large red one, was on the floor open, the contents such as lipstick and her purse spilling out onto the ground.

One guy was holding her arm tightly, trying to pull her away, and the other three were surrounding her in a semi-circle, close in and intimidating. They were all wearing rough clothes such as ripped jeans and sleeveless t-shirts, and their whole appearance screamed delinquent or wannabe-yakuza, all bleached hair and piercings.

What is this shit? I thought this only happened in manga, the girl getting harassed by thugs in broad daylight.

“Come on, don’t be so rude.” The one holding her arm said, leaning in close, causing her to flinch back, her head bumping the wall. “We’ll show you a good time. Unless you think you are too good for us?”

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“Yeah, are you looking down on us?”

“You don’t wanna do that!”

“We’ll show you we are plenty good enough!”

The others all chimed in with classical thug lines, designed to intimidate.

The woman stifled a groan and looked around, her eyes darting in all directions. When she saw me standing watching they went wide, and she bit down on her lip hard enough to draw a faint trickle of blood. Seeing her gaze several of the thugs turned, seeing me loitering.

“What do you think yer looking at, pal?” one snarled.

Yes, exactly what I thought they would say. Seriously, if they were any more cliché I’d have to guess this was a set-up for a TV show. Again, the instinct to run away welled within. The thugs looked pretty tough, they were well muscled, and they could be carrying weapons such as knives.  Still… my pride as a man wouldn’t let me walk away, not now. I wasn’t a hero, not prepared to sacrifice myself for someone I didn’t know, so before… I might have walked away, cursing myself for my cowardice. But not now. If it was my sister or Eri-chan being harassed by a load of thugs I wouldn’t want any bystanders to just walk on by… even the thought of that makes me feel sick…

I swallowed nervously, driving away the feeling of sudden nausea, and then as cheerfully as I could I spoke up. “Seems like I’m looking at a group of guys harassing a girl that just isn’t interested. Perhaps you should cut your losses and move on.”

“Huh? Huh?” one of the thugs, the largest one, who was very tall for a Japanese man, even overtopping me, strolled over, hands in his pockets and back arched. Again, classic thug. He leaned into my face, which was hidden by my hood, and yawned widely, showing off his teeth menacingly.

“Did you say something pal? Best move on before you get hurt, yeah? I don’t think this is any of yer business.”

“No, I don’t think it is my business.” I said honestly. “But you know, I have a younger sister and a good childhood friend myself, so I really don’t like seeing this. Why can’t we all be nice and just let this go?”

“I’m being nice, lettin’ you walk away here pal.” The man barked, spittle flying from his open mouth. It was remarkably unpleasant. “The girl don’t mind, she’s just playing hard to get. It’s what women do, not that a loser like you would know. So clear off, pal!”

I let out a sigh, wiping my face. “I’m not an idiot. This is at best unwanted sexual advances. At worst… well, you don’t need me to tell you that do you? Just let her go and we are all good here.”

“I warned you. Looks like you’ll only understand if I beat it into yer.” The thug spat, swinging a fist at me from close range. Here we go. I guess this was inevitable. The fist flew at me slowly, almost as if it was a child taking a swing. Sliding to the side quickly I watched as the fist flashed past me, and then I retaliated, my own fist sinking into his gut with an audible thump, driving him to his knees, breath rushing explosively from his lungs.

As I stepped over the doubled-over thug his companions looked shocked. One spoke in amazement before striding towards me menacingly, his other companion following behind. The last was still holding onto the girl, who was barely upright, her legs trembling.

“Shit, he took down Takema…”

I’ll take you pair down too. The first of the two came at me swinging as well, as if all they know how to do was punch wildly, but I caught his arm and twisted, causing him to groan in pain. The second attacked from my other side but my elbow caught him in the face, breaking his nose with an audible crunch. Turning I kneed the first foe in the groin, dropping him with a strangled yelp. All this had only taken a couple of seconds.

Looking at me with disbelief the thug holding the woman released her, leaving her to fall to the floor, her legs giving out. She was looking at me with a dazed, dead expression, which was making me feel vaguely guilty. I DID try and talk our way out of this. It isn’t like I wanted to resort to violence or anything…

My attention was diverted to the last thug, who had pulled out a switchblade, the edge glinting keenly in the afternoon sun. “You think you can mess with us, you little shit? I’ll teach you what happens to those who get in our way.” he growled.

Now it is getting serious… I swallowed nervously as I looked at the knife. If I was to get stabbed with that here it wouldn’t be like the Boundary. My blood would be red and the wound wouldn’t be greatly reduced when I next woke up. Still, I had come this far… If I back off now they’ll no doubt take out their anger on the girl. In that case I’d have made things worse.

“Are you sure you can?” I asked. “Your friends didn’t do so well did they?”

“Shut the hell up!” the thug roared, charging me, knife raised. For a moment I froze as the blade came towards me, an instinctive fear of being stabbed taking hold, but then I was moving, my experiences in the Boundary taking over. My hand struck out, knocking the blade aside, where it whistled past my ear, snagging on my hood and pulling it down. I jerked my head forwards, the hood tangling the knife jerking it from his hand with a ripping of fabric, and then my head slammed into his, sending him to the ground, blood spurting from his nose and mouth.

Damn that hurt. I think I was supposed to use my forehead more…

The downed thug scrambled for the knife but I kicked it away down the alleyway and placed my boot on his outstretched hand, slowly increasing the pressure. Looking at the other three who had dragged themselves to their feet I scowled.

“I’d think carefully about your next moves. We’ve kept this friendly, but if you want to continue I will have to get serious.” Man I’m such a badass. That’s another line every man dreams of saying once in their life, especially in front of a woman. Lifting my foot off the thug I stepped away, towards the woman who was still sitting there dazed, shielding her.

The one who I had disarmed stood up slowly, holding one hand to his face to staunch the bleeding. Glaring at me balefully he walked over to his gang and spat bloody phlegm. “You’ll regret this.” He said coldly. “Ya think you can mess with us and get away with it?”

“Are you sure you want to do this again?” I asked. After all I had beaten them quite easily.

“Tch.” The man spat more re, staining the pavement. “Just watch yer back pal.” With that they fled the scene, causing me to sigh in relief, my adrenaline fading, leaving me oddly exhausted. That was pretty nerve-wracking. Still, I doubt I’ll run into them again so there should be no problem. Who knew there were so many stereotypical thugs in Tokyo eh?

Turning to the cowering girl I spoke gently, trying to reassure her. “It’s all right. They are gone now. I bet that was pretty scary, right?” I smiled kindly and held out my hand to her, ready to help her to her feet. She looked at me, then at my hand, and finally back at me. She then let out a panicked yelp and grabbed her handbag, not even caring that her purse and other contents were scattered around.

Leaping to her feet she ran, not even stopping as one heel snapped off her shoe. Before I could react she was off around the corner, lost from my sight.

“What the hell?” was all I could say, puzzled.

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