Jasmine entered the palatial home through an attic window. Lowering the stairs, silently, was tricky. Walking the halls silently was much simpler with the thick carpeting that covered all of the floors and stairs.

She came into the luxuriously appointed dining room. Alan was standing behind an ornate chair that was carved of cherry wood. The matching dining room table, its mirror finish resplendent, stood between the stocky but sculpted physique of a Russian man, in his late twenties, and Jeremiah, who was seated in a matching chair. His black suit was flawless and perfectly cut of the finest silk.

The Russian was still asleep. She noticed the absolute perfection of his long, blond hair. Not one hair out of place in the graceful ponytail. His silk shirt was beautifully tailored. His right hand was resting on the table, grasping a crystal tumbler with three whiskey stones in amber fluid.

Placing a syringe with a clear liquid in it on the table. Jeremiah said, “Jasmine, if you would please administer three CC’s IV to the young man, we can begin shortly. I trust our other guest is on the way?”

“Certainly, Oyabun! Sam advised me when the ‘guest’ left the shipping container. I have isolated the control signal and can cut the ‘strings’ any time you like,” she replied as she selected a vein and pressed the plunger on the syringe. Taking the needle out of the man’s neck and placing the cover on it. She removed the needle from the syringe and pocketed it before putting the cover on the end as well and placing it in another pocket.

The young man began to stir in a moment. The groan that came next was filled with pain. He began to curse softly in Russian. His hand tightened on the glass on the table.

“I would advise a sip of that. It will help with the headache. The poison was an aggressive one. The antidote, unfortunately, is not kind either. You should feel better in a while. The bourbon will help for the moment, though,” said Jeremiah.

The hand brought the tumbler, shakily, to the young man’s lips. Sipping gingerly from the glass, he raised his ice blue eyes to look at Jeremiah with curiosity. “To what do I owe this visit? I seem to recall that the last thing I did was drink a sip from a lovely chardonnay as I relaxed to a bit of music. Now, I am recovering from poisoning with strangers in my house as I drink bourbon.” Lifting the glass and peering at it with his head tilted, the young man continued, “This is a wonderfully aged bourbon. I would guess single cask, aged at least ten years. Am I correct?”

“Very good. Twelve years, actually. A personal favorite of mine. I had hoped that we could have a business conversation while we wait for our other guest to arrive. My name is Jeremiah. I used to know your grandfather.” Sighing, Jeremiah continued, “Unfortunately, both of our families have suffered recent loss.”

“I have heard about Grey. I am sorry for your loss. However, who have I lost? I am not aware of any deaths in the family.”

Jeremiah graced him with a sad smile. “I regret to inform you of the passing of your uncle, Elia. It seems that someone chose to end his life violently.”

“I was not his favorite person, sir. If anything, someone has done me and the world a kindness.”

“Your cousin has also been found with extreme brain damage. He is currently in a vegetative state. It is expected that the frontal lobe of his brain is largely destroyed. He may be able to be treated, but he will never be the same man,” Jeremiah said with a sad shake of his head.

“Sir, Jeremiah, I am sure that you know that this news is not sad for me. Who will take control of our ‘family business’?”

“Ivan, you bring us to the crux of the matter.” Jeremiah’s smile was more gentle now. “I understand that your family has rejected you over a personal matter. I think that their choice is unwise and needs to be corrected.”

“I doubt the next head of the family will agree. In fact, I suspect that my life will be forfeit, soon.”

Alan nodded to Jasmine as she glanced at him. “I would prefer it if you became the head of the family. David says you are a good person. I think that you would be a much better steward of your family’s interests.”

A look of panic passed over Ivan’s face before being replaced by a hard expression of anger. “If you know about David, you know why I was rejected by my family.”

“My apologies, Ivan. David works for me, as you know. He works in physical therapy. He told me that he had met someone special. He told me about you, and I was happy for him.”

The confusion on Ivan’s face was beyond clear. “Then you know that we cannot do what you propose. I was declared ‘unfit’ when my father and grandfather died, even though the line of succession should have passed the position to me.”

Jeremiah looked more intensely at Ilia. “Your family organization has suffered greatly under the mismanagement of your uncle. He has also alienated them from the other forces in the area. I think an alliance with my organization would go a long way to encouraging their support of your management.”

Ilia considered for a moment. “I am sure Yakuza support would not hurt, but a gay man can’t provide a blood heir. Without a blood heir, there would never be support.”

Jeremiah’s grin was disturbing to the younger man. “Who on earth said I was Yakuza? I am Oyabun of the Yokai group. I am the highest ranking Shinigami alive. I’m sure your grandfather told you stories of us, yes?”

The young man’s eyes widened a bit from this statement. His voice was shaky when he spoke again. “But, those were just stories to scare us into being good! He used to tell the same stories to the new guys in his organization. He would tell them not to ever try to kill one of the Yokai, or the Shinigami would hunt them down. He said the only options would be to be killed or join the Shinigami.”

“That is the rule. The man who killed Grey was killed by Grey. His subordinate is on their way here. I may allow them to try to join us if they can pass my test.”

Jeremiah continued, “As far as a blood heir, your cousin has been quite… prolific. He has also been very irresponsible. He has not supported the children. In fact, two of the ladies were found dead after the pregnancies were discovered. I fear he had them killed to prevent them from making demands. I would propose that you adopt the children. There are five children currently known. I have booked their flights that should arrive in the next few dates. Two are male and the other three are female. You could choose your heir from among them.”

Jasmine made a gesture with her left hand, quickly signing that the guest had arrived. “If you will pardon me, I must attend to the new visitor who is entering your home. We can continue, once their situation has been addressed.”

Ilia replied as his expression showed the inner turmoil spawned by the talk about his potential elevation. A dark clothed figure stepped into the room with its right arm extended. The dark cloth of their hooded sweatshirt and sweatpants did not reveal anything of their five-foot-seven shape. Jasmine tapped a control on the small pad she had kept hidden in her palm. The figure grunted as a cylinder popped off its dark, gloved hand.

“Good evening. I understand that your name is Angel. Is that correct?” Jeremiah paused only a moment, “My name is Jeremiah. It seems we have business to conduct. I am sorry for your loss by the way.”

The voice that came from the figure sounded like a pre-teen girl. “Are you the one who killed my brother? You are on the top of my target list anyway, but I will enjoy killing you slowly for his murder.”

“No, I did not kill him. He died at the hands of his target. However, He is to blame for his own fate. He tried to kill someone who was family to me as well as a Shinigami. That means that his life was forfeit.

“As for yourself, you have now threatened the life of a Shinigami, too. I propose a duel. If you do well enough, then you will be allowed to join the Yokai. We can always use a young talent like yourself, if you are good enough.”

“Who says I want to join you, old man?”

Jeremiah chuckled to himself for a moment before responding. “That part is simple; that is the only way you can avoid being killed. Have you considered how I disarmed you? I have someone stationed at your shipping container. He would not have to work very hard to terminate your body.”

“Fine!” she said as she pulled the hoodie off to reveal a body composed of composites and carbon fiber that was painted flat black. “Since you took away my gun, do you have a weapon for each of us?”

Alan stepped around Ilia and placed two sheathed katanas on the beautiful table. One was an obviously finely crafted weapon. The swirling grain of the wood that the sheath and handle were made of was a beautiful example of dark red and brown wood. The other sword had a sheath and handle of flat black metal with a diamond texture that was scratched and scuffed.

Angel chose the katana with the beautiful woodwork. “Your turn to choose, old man.”

Jeremiah stood and walked around to the remaining sword. It was the same one that Grey had used to silence Igor. The two nodded at each other. “Let us go to the front yard. That will give us the room we need.” Suggested Jeremiah. He opened the door for her when they got to it. He led her out to the center of the lawn once they had both exited. Everyone else sat on the porch between the white painted columns to observe the duel.

Each figure bowed to the other and the observers and took their stances. He had his sword held carefully at his left hip. She had drawn the blade of her katana to hold it in a high guard position.

Slowly, the two combatants circled counterclockwise, slowly observing each other, looking for a flaw in their opponent’s movements. The first strikes came without warning. The skin of Jeremiah’s face and head was suddenly covered in a back tattoo of a skull with a rattlesnake coiled around his head like a sweatband. The flat black blade flashed out in a disemboweling slice upward that was blocked by the equally fast arc of shining steel.

As they both stepped back to observe each other, Jeremiah grinned, making the skull tattoo a vision of terrifying aggression. “You are quite fast. Your brother did teach you well. It’s a shame that your simulacrum is going to be destroyed in this fight.”

“How do you know what this gear is called?”

“The answer to that is simple. My people made it.” Jeremiah replied. “That particular model is about eight years old. I happen to know it well. The really interesting thing about it is that it only works for people who have suffered from the mutagen outbreak.”

She lunged into a middle strike. He responded with a middle block and a high strike. She barely blocked the high strike, and his low strike took out the left knee of her simulacrum. Dropping to her right knee, she tried to strike back, but was blocked cleanly. Jeremiah then stabbed down into her upper chest, and a puff of acrid smoke rose from her neck as the simulacrum went limp like a marionette with its strings cut.

Jeremiah picked up his sheath and put the katana in it with a crisp snap. Picking up the other blade and sheath, he did the same with them. Jasmine pulled out her phone and handed it to him. On the screen, Sam was standing over a life support pod with a young girl in it. She was missing an eye, a leg, and an arm. She was glaring out of the screen as tears streamed from her one eye. “Fine! You beat a little girl! If you are waiting for me to beg, just kill me now. I will never beg you for anything!”

Jeremiah had turned off his horrific tattoos. He smiled kindly into the phone’s camera. “Why on earth would I kill such a wonderful person? You have courage and skill. Oh no. You are officially invited to join the Yokai organization. We will be finding a new simulacrum,” he said as he kicked the old one over onto its back. “That one is beyond repair. We will also be finding out what we can do to make your body whole again. I will have my people bring you to my house. We can talk about your options when we get there.”

The girl on the screen broke down in sobs. He could not tell if they were happy ones or sad ones. Yes, he intended to adopt this girl. It had been a while since he was a father, but she needed a real family, and he was going to provide one.

Turning to Ilia, he found the man grinning and raising his, now empty, tumbler. “If you would be so kind as to refill me and pour one for yourself, we should toast to our new business relationship!”