The Tiger in Winter by Hideyuki Kikuchi

Author:Hideyuki Kikuchi [Kikuchi, Hideyuki]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Fantasy, Light Novel
Publisher: Dark Horse Comics
Published: 2019-09-30T16:00:00+00:00

III

The moon was out. There were grassy plains to either side of the Hunter. He was already at a different village. Lights twinkled up ahead and to the right. Red ones. D’s eyes could make out a sign with a liquor bottle painted on it.

Advancing in silence, he had only fifty yards of road left when a trio of figures spilled from the establishment. From the way they walked, they’d had quite a bit to drink. Laughter could be heard.

“Would you look at that,” the left hand that gripped the reins sighed sadly. “The neighboring village was completely wiped out. Is this any time to be laughing?”

Once the trio reached the road, they turned their backs to the Hunter and started walking away. He soon caught up with them. The stink of alcohol assailed his nose. He passed right by them.

“Howdy!”

“Evening!”

The voices called from behind him.

The trio drew guns from their hips. The barrels were four inches in diameter.

Propelled by compressed gas, clouds of needles assailed D from three directions, only to disappear vainly into the air.

Hitting the ground as if he’d been dropped, D then executed a somersault, landing behind the men’s backs. It must’ve looked to them as if part of the darkness had bounded.

They weren’t given time enough to turn. D’s sword flashed just twice in the moonlight, and two men’s bodies fell to the road, cut in quarters.

The air whistled. For D had hurled a needle of rough wood.

Convulsing madly, the third man dove back into the bar.

Leaving his cyborg horse there, D sprinted.

On passing through the doorway, the Hunter was greeted by silence. The world was blue with cigarette smoke. The establishment seemed large enough to accommodate about fifty patrons. There was actually about half that number there. And all of them had their eyes on D—and the man on the floor—going back and forth between the two.

The man was sprawled there. He was dressed just like the villagers, the only difference being that he had a wooden needle stuck through his throat.

“He a villager?” D asked.

Everyone exchanged glances, while the bartender said from behind the counter, “Nope, just a drifter who came in a little while ago. Probably changed clothes after he left. One of ’em brought the horse they came in on around back, which seemed a precaution of some sort. Maybe so that you wouldn’t notice, eh?”

On seeing the weapon the man held in his right hand, one of the patrons groaned, “What the blazes is that thing?”

“Hell, those were the guys who attacked Melmecky.”

“They ain’t getting away with it!”

With an assortment of shouts, they were about to rush the man, but then they stopped in their tracks. D had gone over and taken a knee beside the dying man. All of them realized the young man in black was no mere traveler.

Taking the needle gun from him and sliding it across the floor, D then pulled out the wooden needle. It was unclear what kind of ungodly skill he called upon, but not a drop of blood came from the wound.

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