Smuggler's Parley

Tucked away in the sleepy industrial outskirts of Osaka city, and under the harsh twilight glow of fluorescent lights into the wee hours of the morning, Kyomi's merchandise warehouse was rife with activity. Foxgirl mannequinns frantically scurried and scuttled about getting pallets filled with flashy and colourful boxes readied to be shipped to high paying Youdu clients. The Kyomi supervising mannequinn distinquished in her striped blouse, necktie and high waisted skirt diligently peered out of the window of her second floor office standing on top of her gaming chair on tippy toes, overlooking the hustle and bustle of tiny furred gremlins in overalls, working in unison.

She wondered to herself while chewing on tufts of her hair comtemplatively,

"6 pallets of Yugioh... 4 pallets of Magic: The gathering... 12 of Pokemon.... fuck I had no idea those noble richfucks got sooooo addicted to children card games! They simply can't get enough of the cardboard crack!"

Shaking her head in discontent,

"They don't even play the games properly.... they make up their own stupid ass rules like a bunch of kindergarteners during recess!"

Shrugging with a sigh,

"Oh well at least they pay very well!"

As the supervisor Kyomi was about to fall back to her lazy sitting posture and glue her attention towards her thinkpad and spreadsheets. Suddenly the sound of screeching and shattered glass sirened through the warehouse and smokebombs detonated throughout the facility, The Kyomi mannequinns were coughing, choking on the suffocating miasma as the main garage doors were forcibly pried open to reveal the outline of the Karmic outlaw Shukisame.

"Ohohohoh! So this is the fox den where you hid all of your little treasures!"

As Shukisame's wondering eyes darted towards pallets of trading cards,

"It is I! The great and wily Shukisame! The Death-Descending Monk!"

Shukisame leaped ontop of the carefully warped and stacked pallets and outlining them with his Katana Onimaru,

"And I am here to relieve you vixen kits ALL of your treasures! Think of this as an cost of doing business! Hohohoho!"

As the Kyomi workers fanned their arms around clearing the smoke, the worker closest to the pallets, squinted their eyes in bewilderment at the Yokai weirdo and answered back,

"Who the fuck are you again?"

"What!? Y-you have no idea who I am? You stole my clients you dirty thieving foxes! And I am repaying the favour 10 FOLD!"

Proclaimed Shukisame as he dashed off the pallet stacks and in one lighting motion cut the Kyomi mannequinn who dared to disrespect him cleanly in half.

"Tsh... weaklings! Your worthless lot can't even slake my blade's hunger!" Shukisame flicked his wrist to shake all of the blood off of Onimaru and resheathing the blade.

At that moment, The Kyomi supervisor rushed out of her office hopping down the stairs like a furry suited tumbleweed and landing a couple dozen feet away from Shukisame's feet.

"HOOOLD IT! HOLD IT RIGHT THERE BUDDY!",

The Kyomi supervisor shouted panting, while crossing her arms back and forth in an prominent X motion signaling supreme disapproval.

"Those pallets are Crimson Iris Ltd. inventory, they don't belong to you! And YOU motherfucker, are trespassing on private property! Please vacate the premises IMMEDIATELY or prepare to be liquidated by force!"

The Kyomi supervisor pointed her dainty little fingers at the pallet boxes and then cursoring towards Shukisame her ears fur and tails all standing on end attempting to look intimidating, as if on cue, all of the Kyomi mannequinns dropped what they're doing and slowly edged closer to Shukisame in measured lockstep, their beaty little red eyes all staring at him unflinchingly.

"Fufufufu, if you vixens are so willing to die then the great Shukisame is obliged to send you on your way!"

Shukisame goaded, widening his stance, his arms and hands wound up and taut ready to draw hidden weapons from the folds and sleeves of his monk cloak and outfit, like a venus flytap ready to clamp down.

The Kyomis edged closer in unison, their motions all perfect uniform and synchronized, each one slowly raised their arms and spread their hands and fingers wide open like little greedy children about to grab their christmas presents, then the command was given by the Kyomi supervisor.

"Brigade Sacrificial Liquidation: Lower extremities release!"

Wave after wave of kyomis bursted off at blistening speed, the lower half of their bodies were cannabalized in a fiery explosion, launching themselves directly at Shukisame like living heat seeking missiles, their unflinching eyes like red dot sights laser focused towards their target.

"Dagger Richochet: Swallows flutter their wings!"

Shukisame shouted, twirled his body in a windmill, the centrifugal momentum opening his sleeves and folds of the loose layers of his outfit like flower petals, unleashing an whirlwind of hundreds upon hundreds of throwing daggers. Many of the projectiles made their mark, intercepting the Kyomis midflight, causing them to abruptly explode from the unstable energies that are coursing through their tiny frail bodies, but a few made it through, shrapnelled and pincushioned barely alive enough to heed the next command from their supervisor.

"Brigade Sacrificial Liquidation: Palm and mouth release!"

The palms and unhinged mouths of the few remaining flying Kyomis bursted open filling the proximate volume of air in a dense tangle weave of razor sharp wired nets that sprung in all directions, from the hidden cavities in their hand and wrist and head.

"Cudgel Hurricane: Monkey brushes aside cobwebs!"

Alarmed, Shukisame quickly proclaimed his martial art technique in quick sucession, using his windmill motion to release a straightened out collapsible bo staff from the inner lining of his monk cloak and in a stirring motion, brushed aside the flung nets aside like swabbing cotton candy.

As the bo staff was quickly wrapped in the monomolecular thin wires and cut to ribbons. Shukisame simply pulled out more from his sleeves and continued to swipe away the wire nets and smacking the homing Kyomis out of the air splattering themselves on the warehouse walls in a grisly display of guts and gore.

Before he could spin out his next bo staff to respond to the last air streaking Kyomi missile, she planted her head right into Shukisame's center of mass. speeding ahead piledriving him through the pallets, causing packs of trading cards to explode into bits and pieces everywhere. The force of the head thrust pushed the assailant out of warehouse and into the open street before the wily monk could dislodge the rocket propelled pest off of its trajectory, impacting the nearby sidewalk.

"No! No no no no! Not the Merchandise!"

The supervisor Kyomi exclaimed in fustration pulling out her fur and wailing about, running the numbers through her head.

"Y-you're SO FUCKING DEAD! DEAD! I TELL YO-"

Before the supervisor Kyomi could finish her sentence, a loud bang was heard and a .45 ACP slug bored sloppily through her forehead and she dropped dead where she stood.

"Hahahahah! I finally got you! You smug vulpine bitch!"

Shukisame pranced about amusingly to himself, waving around his smoking colt M1911, before spasming in pain, arching back and coughing out some blood from taking the full brunt force of a foxgirl shaped warhead travelling near mach 1 into his stomach.

"Feh... that foxgirl really did a number on me!"

Shukisame pulled out a few boxes of the precious children card games out of his enormous sleeves the ones that he could swipe before the onslaught.

"But... I got my prize! These will fetch a small fortune with the right people! hoho! Now I shall make myself scarce!"

Shukisame threw another a few smoke bombs and disappeared into the night.




The Kyomi cleanup crew came by a scant few minutes later and immediatly got to work cleaning up the mess, scrubbing the scene of all the bodies and viscera while another dedicated team worked on repairing the physical damages, repaving the sidewalk, stalling new glass panelling in the windows and replacing the garage door.

A new professional looking Supervisor Kyomi smoking a ciggeratte stepped into the warehouse surveying and tallying up the damages, looking somewhat dazed and tired.

"Fuck. My. Life. This is what? The 3rd buglary this fucking month?"

She sighed deeply, exhaling a huge smoke ring.

"Ah well, at least I can claim all of this as a loss and submit a claims report..."

Muttering to herself, as she made herself up the stairs and into her office, right back to her thinkpad and spreadsheets.

Edit

Pub: 16 Mar 2025 01:30 UTC

Edit: 18 Mar 2025 02:10 UTC

Views: 72