Read Online Scenes from an Unholy War by Hideyuki Kikuchi - Free Book Online Page A

In that instant, the fact that this beautiful woman was a professional combatant was pounded into them.
    Lyra had put down fifty of them and wasn’t even breathing hard when a young man stepped forward. She occasionally taught swordsmanship and martial arts. When she did, she always saw him there. “What can I do for you, Pete?” she asked.
    The young man mumbled something in reply.
    “What?”
    Perhaps catching the irritation in Lyra’s voice, the young man hastily pulled a small package out of his pocket and pushed it into her hand. Before Lyra could open her mouth, he said, “I didn’t know when it was—your birthday, that is.” His voice rose so high it cracked. This was probably the first time he’d ever given anything to a member of the opposite sex. The boy—Pete—was sixteen years old.
    Gazing long and hard at the boy and his flushing cheeks, Lyra said, “Well, I’m not giving it back now.”
    “Really? Great! See you!” And then the boy ran off. A short time later, whoops of joy could be heard behind a distant bower.
    D showed up, too. If he were human, he’d have been wheezing and panting, but his now-pale complexion only lent his handsome features more intensity, making even the jaded mercenaries freeze in their tracks. Later, a particularly rough customer named Gil said, “Man, the enemy could just kill me now, and I wouldn’t give a damn!”
    In one sense, no one could’ve been less suited to lead than D. Even looking at him from afar, men and women, young and old, just seemed to melt. When he got closer, young ladies, and those who were far from young, either grew dreamy or fainted. This being the case, he could’ve relied on his voice alone, but even that brought nothing but remarks about how refined and pleasing and utterly irresistible it was. Finally, Lyra was forced to tell the Hunter, “For the love of God, would you just get out of here?”
    Saying nothing, D was just about to turn around when his left hand shot out.
    “What do you think you’re doing ?” Lyra cried, one hand pressed to her rear and the other ready to slap him—but she stopped herself. It wouldn’t do to look at D’s face. “You’ve got strange tastes, don’t you?” she remarked, and then she saw that everyone else was looking. “The next time you do that, I’ll kill you.” But her threat lacked conviction.
    “Sorry about that,” D apologized in a gruff voice. “But you’re really my type, and—gaaaaaah!
    “Sorry,” D said, this time apologizing in his own voice, his left hand clenched tightly as he walked away.
    However, a short time later, a hoarse voice from nowhere in particular groused in a sarcastic tone, “Just goes to show you, they’re all a bunch of lazy bums.”
    —
    III
    —
    That night, once Rust and Lyra had left the sheriff’s office and D had returned to his room, there was a knock at the office door.
    “Who is it?”
    “Gil. Josh and Palau are with me,” replied a voice so loud and discordant it could’ve sent women and children into convulsions.
    “What do you want?”
    “Well, I was wondering if you’d like to have a drink.”
    “Sounds pretty suspicious,” the hoarse voice whispered. “Send ’em on their way. There’s no telling what they’ve got planned. They’re drifters who work for a price, after all.”
    “So am I,” D said, and when he opened the door, it was hard to tell if it wasn’t just to spite the hoarse voice.
    The three enormous men were like a wall, but they did indeed have a bottle of whiskey with them. D led them back to his room.
    Gil, who looked to weigh about four hundred fifty pounds, asked, “What’s wrong with using the office?”
    “That’s for work.”
    “Okay, I get you,” the man agreed readily enough.
    Palau, who had a black patch over his right eye, surveyed the room before remarking, “Looks like we don’t have enough chairs.”
    Though there was a sofa and armchairs, they were built for normal-sized people, and a sofa