Maohden Vol. 2

Author’s Note

I have instilled in
Maohden
all my affection for the city. Here is the place where the dreams spring literally to life; a battlefield between witches and warlocks; a world where death devours life even as the land sustains human habitation.

I wrote
Maohden
in an effort to create another world within this world.

Fuji Television, the Shinjuku Ward Government Building, Yasukuni Avenue, Takada no Baba—all part of this world yet now caught up in the realms of the fantastic and the grotesque.

In broad daylight and in the dark of the night, I hope to instill deep feelings of
déjà vu
in those of you who also share these twisted visions of the future.

Author’s Bio

Says Hideyuki Kikuchi, “I like bringing to life haunted and mysterious people, capabilities, and cities in the midst of the modern world.”

Maohden
just may be the incarnation of this desire. True to the expectations of his readers, the book overflows with the author’s trademark fantasy, action and eroticism.

Hideyuki Kikuchi was born in 1949, in the city of Choshi in Chiba Prefecture. While studying law at Aoyama University, he participated in the campus’s “mystery and detective novel” club. After graduation, he published stories in
doujinshi
magazines and translated science fiction while working as a magazine reporter.

Hideyuki Kikuchi’s debut as a novelist came in 1982 with the publication of
Demon City Shinjuku
. The publication of
Makaiko
in 1985 elevated him to the ranks of bestselling authors. His extraordinary achievements since are well known to his readers.

Maohden Vol. 2

Maohden vol.2 © Hideyuki Kikuchi 1986. Originally published in Japan in 1986 by SHODENSHA Publishing Co.,LTD. English translation copyright (c) 2012 by DIGITAL MANGA, Inc. All other material (c) 2012 by DIGITAL MANGA, Inc. All rights reserved. No portion of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission from the copyright holders. Any likeness of characters, places, and situations featured in this publication to actual persons (living or deceased), events, places, and situations are purely coincidental. All characters depicted in sexually explicit scenes in this publication are at least the age of consent or older. The DMP logo is (tm) of DIGITAL MANGA, Inc.

Written by Hideyuki Kikuchi

Illustrated by Jun Suemi

English Translation by Eugene Woodbury

English Edition Published by:

DIGITAL MANGA PUBLISHING

A division of DIGITAL MANGA, Inc.

1487 W 178
^th
Street, Suite 300

Gardena, CA 90248

USA

www.dmpbooks.com

Digital Edition

First Edition: August 2012

E-ISBN-13: 978-1-61313-240-1

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

Main Characters

Setsura Aki

The only son of Renjo Aki, this beautiful genie runs a
senbei
shop in West Shinjuku and a P.I. agency on the side. He wields sub-micron thin strands of “devil wire.”

Gento Roran

The only son of Byori Roran has awakened from his fifteen-year slumber. His quest for the seal leads him to a showdown with Setsura. His main weapon is the same “devil wire.”

Hyota

Gento’s strange, diminutive servant secretes oils from every pore that prevent Setsura’s devil wires from taking hold.

Mephisto

As beautiful as he is feared, the Demon Physician is said to even bring the dead back to life.

Mayumi

The beautiful young woman known as the
seal
. Any man who has sex with her, consensual or not, dies a gruesome death.

Azusa Sasaki

The younger sister of Banri Sasaki, a reporter who came to Shinjuku to gather material about Demon City and was killed by Gento.

Yoshiko Toya

The best information broker in Shinjuku and, weighing in at two hundred plus pounds, the fattest.

Ever since the Devil Quake, the battles for the soul of Shinjuku have never ceased deep within the shadows of the city. On one side of the conflict, the Aki clan: Renjo Aki and his son Setsura. On the other, the Roran clan: Byori Roran and son Gento. Along with their supernatural servant, Hyota.

Defeated by Renjo, Byori vowed to bring himself back to life in fifteen years after placing his own severed head on the coffin lid like a guardian angel. Hyota buried the accursed coffin containing his son deep within the earth.

Those fifteen years have passed. Setsura Aki now owns a
senbei
shop in West Shinjuku and moonlights as a P.I. One day, a squad of yakuza assassins comes after him, leaving him no choice but to dispatch them with his devil wires. Setsura knows that something is afoot. Gento has awoken from his long hibernation.

After a decade and a half, their conflict picks up where it left off. Equally alarming, Gento’s skills with his own devil wires have grown to match Setsura’s.

Gento makes Setsura an offer he can’t refuse: join forces and seek out the seal. A startling proposition that would shape their destinies and put the true nature of Demon City in a harsh new light.

But Setsura does refuse. At the same time, Mephisto, the Demon Physician, is seeing a new patient. The men who’ve had sex with her have all died strange deaths. As it turns out, Mayumi is the seal they seek.

No sooner has Setsura figured this out but Mayumi is kidnapped by a biker gang. She is subsequently made the prize in the Coliseum Death Match, where Shinjuku’s most skilled killers strut their stuff and rank their abilities.

Setsura heads there at top speed, Gento a step ahead of him. He’s already discerned Mayumi’s true nature for himself.

A sad-sounding siren squawked out a minor chord. However dinged and rusty the housings, the spotlights shone as brightly as the noonday sun. The three white beams focused on the base of the Coliseum bowl.

Two figures stood in the sixty-foot ring.

This was no ordinary bout. It was accompanied by none of the usual audience participation. No applause. No cheering. No stamping of feet. The usual air of excitement that attended athletic meets was nowhere to be found.

One look at the spectators explained why.

Some wore black suits and ties. Some had on shirts and slacks in bold, primary colors. Others traditional
haori
and
hakama
. But every last one of them had an air about him that was markedly different from the typical sports aficionado.

Those unusually sharp eyes, to start with, and the unusually cold vibe surrounding them. These were the representatives of the yakuza jousting for hegemony of Demon City. Light up a nuclear warhead over their heads and Shinjuku would become a Garden of Eden until the next band of wise guys stepped in to replace their fallen comrades.

The princes of the city had the ringside seats, the size of the criminal organization diminishing the further back they sat. Power was the only ticket that mattered here.

“
That’s where I’m going to be next year
,” the men in the cheap seats all said to themselves, looking down at their superiors with eager eyes.

The announcer declared in a loud monotone, “Tonight’s lineup!” There were no opening ceremonies. No stir of anticipation ran through the audience. Only the sound of rough fingers turning through the thick program guides.

“Listed first on tonight’s card is One, Yanase and Two, Devil.”

That was all. Nothing about where they hailed from, how old they were, their height and weight. It was all irrelevant. Winning was all that mattered. Two hundred pounds of strapping youth was worth nothing without a victory.

Bathed in the silence, the attention of the arena concentrated on them, the two figures advanced. Ten feet apart, they stopped. There was no telling whether this was the distance agreed to beforehand, or simply where the two of them decided to stop.

They were empty-handed. “One” was drawn with red paint—or blood—on the back of the man naked to the waist. The other man had “Two” stenciled on the back of his black T-shirt.

They had equal statures, about five-eleven, a hundred eighty pounds.

“One” charged, his hair flying out behind him.

“Two” didn’t move.

One shook his head as he ran. His hair reached out like spider’s threads.

Two jumped back.

Seemingly drawn along by the wind aroused by his movements, a black breeze chased after him.

Two staggered.

Strands of hair slipped out of the breeze and attached themselves to his legs. He didn’t fall. As he slumped toward the ground, the numerous strands of hair righted him again.

From somewhere on One’s body came the whirling spin of a motor. Now it was Two’s hair standing on end. Purple smoke wafted up, followed by the smell of scorched flesh.

He must have treated his hair to conduct and transmit electricity, and planted a generator on his person delivering tens of thousands of volts.

Two bellowed. Smoldering and burning, he swung his upper body like a bat. One’s hair stretched to the limits, and stretched again. The spectators heard the hair being torn out by the roots.

Now One was the one doing the shouting. White smoke and fluid burst from the torn hair follicles. With the electrical conduits ruptured, the power had no place to go but back into his body. The white smoke turned black.

He fell forward with a howl, like a toppled statue.

At the same time, Two sank to his knees. His massive chest throbbed. More than his literal powers of resistance, this was a man who was just plain tough. An assassin who couldn’t readily draw on a variety of techniques would easily fall to the likes of him.

“Please note that Two, Devil, is declared the winner.”

The announcer’s mechanical voice repeated this twice. In the stands, the spectators scribbled in their programs, like baseball fans keeping box scores.

The motions soon stilled. The announcer’s voice shifted their attention to the two new contestants.

“Next is Three, Zapf, and Four, Koshichi Tamenaga.”