Undead Samurai by Baptiste Pinson Wu

Undead Samurai by Baptiste Pinson Wu

Author:Baptiste Pinson Wu [Wu, Baptiste Pinson]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Little Conqueror Press
Published: 2024-02-13T00:00:00+00:00


Ame raised her teppo when the Fūma shinobi jumped above a walking dead and pulled the trigger just before he would descend. He had clearly thought to take them by surprise but received a bullet between the eyes for his poor judgment. The dead shinobi landed on the back of the kyonshī, which then tumbled face first. Yūki’s naginata slashed through both their necks before the dead could rise again, and before the shinobi might come back to life. Though it might not have happened, because there had been no drum, or at least none that Yūki heard. Those kyonshī had been there before, and so had been the drummer at some point recently. But the dead were not alone. The Fūma shinobi had launched the attack, or at least had tried to. Using the dead as cover, they had approached seemingly undetected while she, Yūki, and Tadatomo got ready for the otherwise small crowd of kyonshī. The Fūma thought to have trapped the three, but it was without counting on Ame’s presence. To the deaf musketeer, their quiet stepping felt all the more discerning when mixed with the clumsy march of the dead. She understood the presence of the assassins a couple of seconds before the first stepped out of a kyonshī’s shadow, a glowing bomb in hand. She shot him in the wrist. The bomb exploded from within the dead’s group, and the battle began.

For some reason that only he found funny, Tadatomo grabbed the head Yūki had just cut and threw it with all his strength into a walking corpse’s face. It fell under the impact and the samurai bent backward, apparently laughing. He turned and said something while looking at Ame, then seemed to remember she would not hear him, so he mouthed his words slower.

“I can only trust them as far as I can throw them,” he said, then went back to laughing at his own joke.

By her side, Yūki shook her head and made a gesture that only Ame would understand.

Idiot.

Ame smiled at the insult. She knew Yūki enjoyed Tadatomo’s presence, at least after Gifu. He had come down from the mountain a changed man, strong, reliable, stupidly brave. It was he who had suggested that they head straight to Lake Biwa and use a boat all the way to Azuchi. And they had almost reached their destination when Ame felt the ground shaking under dozens and dozens of staggering feet.

The dead were slowed by the light slope at the top of which they stood, so she fished a paper cartridge from the pouch hanging at her belt and bit its end off. As she spat the piece of paper, she expertly filled the pan with some powder, locked it, then poured the rest down the muzzle, then the useless paper she had clenched into a ball. Without looking, she took one of her custom-made bullets from a second pouch, the one on her back, and let it slide down the barrel. The ramrod was in her hand next and pushed the contents of the barrel all the way to the end.



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