Chasers Can't Be Choosers

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Chasers Can't Be Choosers is a story about Ledas, Beelzebub, Ryori, Carawa, and Theodosius in the early stages of their bounty hunting careers tracking down a cephalopodic scoundrel by the name of Akashiyaki. An infamous inker of pools and food thief, Akashiyaki has terrorized dozens of worlds for years, earning a large bounty and a notorious reputation. While the gang thinks he's no threat because of his low power level, Akashiyaki proceeds to show them why he's racked up a massive bounty as they chase him across the stars.

Theme

Chapter list

• Chapter 1
• Chapter 2
• Chapter 3
• Chapter 4

1. Slippery, Slimy Pond Scum

June 25, Age 776

Inside Ledas’ spaceship in space, on the outskirts of what was formerly Frieza’s Empire

Sloppy Salpico was their first pit stop since the abandoned Planet Frieza 288 two days back. Deep space had been their lair for nearly a week. They’d hardly come across other lifeforms aside from Lily-Livered Lugabalos, whom they’d caught enjoying a diet bhuttberry milkshake at a remote Space Sonikku fast food joint three days ago. He had fetched a bounty of ₩7,500,000, a splendid fee for a man of his paraplegic proportions. Beelzebub, Ledas, Ryori, and Carawa passed the time (shame they couldn’t fast-travel) playing multiplayer racing games on their Switches. Beelzebub performed the worst by far on the first day (he’d never played before, promise). By now, he was finding his calling as a respectable upper-tier racer. He’d taken second place in the last two races. This cup’s mine. Didn’t matter that Ryori was six points clear. They were halfway through the Lucky Cat cup when Theodosius, the ship’s onboard AI and pilot, brought to their attention the swiftly approaching Moxabalan Asteroid Belt.

Well, Beelz was feeling peckish, and it had been a while since they’d had their feet on land. Gotta stretch my legs or I’ll go insane. Stone was his fear. “They probably sell loads of strange food. Wild stuff you can only dream of. I bet it’s hella nasty,” he said. “Let’s see what they’ve got.”

“Any place way out here has to use frozen ingredients. My bet’s a health inspector hasn’t been around in ages,” said Ryori.

His heartbeat quickened. His shoulders were curling. “Sounds like a bad place. Ooh, baby, let’s explore the lawless frontier.”

“Wouldn’t hurt to stop by for an hour or two,” Ledas agreed. He was a careless racer, though he always had a blue shell at the most inopportune time. Even his plant-like pet routinely outperformed him. Beelzebub had been surprised to learn he wasn’t competitive when it came to video games. There are only two things on his mind at any given moment. Papa, help us when he isn’t fighting. “Theo, how many restaurants are on this asteroid?”

“Standby. I have identified eleven establishments, master.”

“Ah, what the hell, let’s get fancy. We’ve earned it after that last bounty. What’s the highest-rated place? I don’t care how much it costs.”

Consulting Space Yelp, Theo performed his duties admirably, piloting through the bright blue atmospheric bubble and landing them safely amidst the quarter-packed parking lot of Sloppy Salpico.

“Sloppy Salpico? Not the most appealing name. Shit, man, I’m gonna get food poisoning,” Ryori said.

“Speak for yourself. Space pirates love their slop. I bet they pay premium. As bounty hunters, it’s our duty to try all sorts of exotic dishes across the galaxy. Our stomachs must become like steel. Learning the local cuisine will boost our street cred,” Beelzebub said.

“We don’t have any,” Ryori said.

“Exactly. Can’t build a reputation without putting in the work.”

He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, right, like that’ll have any impact. Social media isn’t real life.”

“Aw, c’mon, Ryo, let’s check it out. There’s no way the Space Yelpers would lie. If it sucks, we can go somewhere else, and if they give you food poisoning, I’ll vaporize them for you, my love. How’s that sound? Aren’t you hungry?”

“I guess. Just a little nervous. Feels sketchy as hell. How about you guys? Wanna go in?”

Carawa beat his chest with his left fist. “Grah mubruh.”

Beelzebub and Ledas nodded. He’d be down for that. They’d run out of their supplies from Earth two days ago. Partying goes hard in the bleakness of space, he’d learned. There wasn’t much else to do. Plus, racing through the cups was a helluva lot more volatile when everyone was sloshed. In the Demon Realm, he was not allowed to play games for hours on end. He had a strict curfew. Indulging in this was not particularly demonic, but it was bad, foul as sulfur, and he rode the high of that thrill. He was the Prince of Darkness. Nobody would forget his name. He’d carve out his legacy in these stars.

His lungs were straining. The artificial air tasted stale. Maybe half a dozen ships at dock. Unsurprising. We’re in the middle of nowhere. He scanned the Galactic Patrol’s bounty listings on his datapad upon entering the establishment, hoping beyond hope a heavy hitter had been spotted near these parts recently. Alas, not a single person with a price over ₩10,000,000 had been within ten light-years of this asteroid in the past three months. It’d take at least a hundred captures at that level or higher before they could afford to buy a planet on which to establish their bounty hunting outpost. Then again, with Ledas’ strength, they could take over a world, laying claim through conquest, if required. Not like anyone could stop them. Ledas was a rare breed of warrior. He felt safer in his presence, though he’d never admit that, as it would make him appear to be of Ryori’s inclination, which couldn’t be further from the truth.

A trio of frog-faced men, inebriated to a degree that he wouldn’t feel comfortable being within three meters of them, sang space karaoke to the left as they entered the restaurant. He couldn’t tell if they were hitting the correct notes, but by Dabura’s beard, they were atrocious. Their flinty, raspy voices annoyed him. He fancied smuggling them away to the Demon Realm to employ them in the deep recesses of the royal dungeons. Being forced to listen to their singing would be a horrid punishment few could endure.

The paintings on the walls were swirly and opaque, appearing like juvenile splatterings of random colors. To create art of that caliber was remarkably brave and visionary. Beelz was mad impressed. He’d never think about that shit again. A couple of aliens were passed out at the tables. One or two were at the bar. Wasn’t a girl in sight. That’s a damn shame. It’s a sausagefest up in this bitch. Enough already with Ledas and his catamite. We should swing by a strip joint on the way out. That suggestion wouldn’t go over well with the boys, so he held his tongue.

Lamentation pressed down on his shoulders. What could have been. Not to be.

A server escorted them to a booth, passing out menus. In typical fashion, they requested water before getting started. Beelzebub’s throat was raw. Felt like ages since he’d taken a swig. After bringing them their tray of drinks, the short Faerin, as he had learned they were called, disappeared into the kitchen, giving them time to mull over their options. He felt an urge to take out his Switch, to play two or three races before the appetizers came, but he knew that to be proper and polite, to behave within the bounds of societal conventions, he’d have to engage in small talk. That was a fate worse than death for most people. Thankfully, Ledas and Ryori were as awkwardly introverted as he was, so they made a fine group. No jockeying for position in their asocial bubble.

“Wow, those Pomuhedra smoothies look amazing. The purple and the yellow caught my eye. I wonder what fruit they use?” Ledas said.

“Who knows? Could taste like anything. Whatever it is, I bet it’s exotic.”

“I have to know. It looks so good.”

“The server should know, dude. Anyway, why are you fixated on the drinks? Aren’t you hungry?” Ryori asked.

“Nah, I’m keeping it light for bedtime,” Ledas said with a wink.

“I’m cravin’ a plate of those barbeque galin wings,” Beelz said. “Join me if you dare. Otherwise, I’ll eat the whole batch. I’m fiending for meat. Gotta party while you can. The days of our lives are only so many.”

“Gruh,” Carawa grunted, showing Ryori with his claw a picture of a fancy hegodorian smoothie with whipped cream on his menu.

“I’m gonna get a mixed drink. Gotta be rum. That Seplaro bottle’s lookin’ mint. And it’s only ₩6100,” Beelz said. I’m gonna get hammered. Payment for the bounty we caught, thanks to my intel. I got us through that mission. A bounty hunter knows when to work hard and play hard.

“Yo, I’m down,” Ryori said. He flashed a cheeky smile, ruffling his wild brown hair. “Nobody back home would believe me if I told them we did this, heh.”

“Who cares?”

“Don’t be rude, dude,” Ledas said, shaking his head. Whatever. You’re not the boss of me.

When the server returned, they ordered their drinks, including several bottles for the road, and more than enough food for the table. Ryori and Beelz craved rum and, as was expected, were carded for their thirst. Ryori flashed his fake ID that somehow had a picture of him that looked a good deal older. His birthdate stated he was twenty-two. The Faerin server had evidently never come across a human before, as he didn’t know how to navigate this swampland of deceit. He produced a monocle from his pocket, studying the card up close.

“Ah yes, this writing comes from Earth. Never met a traveler from that land before. My, must be a long ways away.”

He had a lispy accent, a certain tell that betrayed perhaps what he was unwilling to reveal to strangers. While Beelz didn’t care, he was aware. He’s spent untold hours knuckle-deep in stinkholes.

“That’s right. I’m twenty-three,” Ryori said. The idiot can’t even remember the fake year he put on there.

“Alright, you’re good, you’re good. And you, sir?”

Beelz handed him his royal driver’s license. To earn that prestigious title, he’d practiced for days in the desert against geji dragons. Those tunnelers were mad aggressive. He was a proper expert at dodging those quarrelsome beasts. His off-road jeep had seen things, man. Been put through the ringer, and yet, always came out on top. He’d never crashed, and even if he had, it hadn’t been his fault.

“2515 years old? Am I reading this right? You’re merely a boy. Forgive me. I must needs call shenanigans.”

“Demons don’t age quickly,” he said, putting his hands behind his head, leaning against the booth. “I’ve been around forever. I’ll be around for like twenty-eight thousand more years if everything goes according to plan.”

“A demon, eh? Alright, Fiend Prince Beelzebub, in that case, you’re good to go.”

Ledas guffawed. “Fiend Prince? Since when has anyone called you that?”

His gaze narrowed. “Since I was born. That’s my title.” He plucked a glob of matter out of his ear with his pinky finger, flicking it away.

“You’ve never gone by that before.”

“It’s one of my many titles in the Demon Realm. I’m not a boaster, so it’s whatever. Get used to it.”

“Alright, Fiend Prince. I won't forget to give you the respect you're due,” the Saiyan said, mock-bowing.

“Appreciate it, peasant. Now shove it where the sun don’t shine.” He gave him the middle finger.

“I thought you were King of the Demon Realm,” said Ryori.

“Technically, I should be. I haven’t gone through the ceremony yet. I’ll get around to it. No big deal. Hasn’t been a priority, if I’m being honest. I’ll schedule it someday. You’re invited, by the way.”

“Sure, mark us down. We’ll be there.”

“Wonder if the wings will taste like chicken,” Ryori said, looking to his living fleshlight. “Sure you don’t want any?”

“Don’t be absurd,” Ledas said. “Unless you’re willing to take what was promised off the table.”

“N-no, never. Forget it,” Ryori said, his cheeks turning red. Their conversation is lost on me.

His eyes shifted around the room, watching the four-armed Heolik bartender spin bottles to an enraptured, inebriated crowd of three or four. Soon, the server was back with their alcoholic and fruity drinks. Ryori toasted his glass, proclaiming, “Here’s to bounty hunting. We’re officially a gang. How cool is that?”

They clinked and clanked. He felt the fire in his veins within the first gulp. Life, suddenly, had meaning. His driving purpose, his ultimate desire, was aimless, albeit insistent and immediate. More please. “We have to take a name, otherwise we’re obscure nobodies. Demon Hunters Incorporated™’s badass. Why not go for that?”

Ledas sighed. “No way, that’s hella lame. We aren’t hunting demons.”

“We’re demons hunting bounties, get it? It’s fearsome, like what you’d see in the movies. Bounties will cower before us. Everyone’s afraid of demons.”

“Nah.”

“I like it. What’s your hang-up?” Ryori said.

“Because that’s what they’ll call us forever. It’s a huge decision. Besides, when we hear the right name, we’ll know. That isn’t it.”

The front door opened; the bell jingled. In walked a cephalopodic man with mud-red skin. A slew of tendrils hung from the corners of his mouth like faux mandibles. He wore purple-and-yellow robes that sparkled and shined. Within five seconds, he rushed to the nearest table and plucked something off somebody’s plate, gorging on it in ecstasy. The patron, of course, was irate, screaming and swearing. He paid him no mind, moving to the next table, as if skating along on ice.

“That guy’s bad news.”

“Yep, he’s a piece of crap,” Beelzebub said. “He has to have a bounty, acting like that. Lemme check.”

Sure as shit, the octopus man waltzed from booth to booth, taking pieces of food off people’s plates to uproarious protest, and before long, he had honed in on the galin wings. He’s not getting them. I’ll send him to HFIL first. Beelzebub was not the type of person to kill wantonly (sometimes accidents happened). He scrolled through his datapad, searching. There. Gottem. This guy was wanted alive, not dead. He wasn’t a heavy hitter. No reason to worry. He didn’t expect him to be mid-tier, either. Surprisingly, the man’s profile popped up higher than expected. Name’s Akashiyaki. His bounty’s ₩8,500,000. No way. He has hundreds of charges. Racked up a helluva bounty stealing food and inking pools. He’ll be a fine pick-up.

Ryori boxed him out. Swishing his tentacles, Akashiyaki moved on, refusing to press the issue. He’s weak. Not a fighter.

Beelzebub was picking his teeth. “Get a load of this. His bounty’s eight-point-five mil. Let’s get him.”

“I can take him down a peg or two. Lemme at him.”

“Nah, nah, don’t sweat it. He’s mine.” That was bold of me. Shit. I gotta be drunk.

Beelz popped up, marching over to the bastard, who had taken a seat at the bar. Probably ordered a drink. He won’t receive it. There was an angry customer in the octopus’ ear, cussing him out. He didn’t pay the faintest attention to him. Those guys at the karaoke machine were killing him. He looked over, wincing. They were wailing their lungs out, utilizing their big passion. How his ears bled, how his stamina drained. Akashiyaki was grazing on space mozzarella sticks when he came up from behind and tapped him on the shoulder.

“Hey, man, long time no see.”

“Do I know you?” Akashiyaki asked, twirling around, barely masking his anxiety as he held a mozzarella stick like a miniature sword. He waved off the other customer, who stood his ground, spitting on the floor, his face turning purple with fury.

“You have a hella high bounty for what you’re accused of. Not a bad find in a remote locale. From what I’ve seen, getting you off the streets can’t come fast enough. And for a good price, no less. Unlucky for you that we happened to be here. Sorry, you gotta go.”

“You’re a bounty hunter? Oh, no. No. Get out of my face. I didn’t do nothin’, you didn’t see nothin’. This is a big misunderstanding.” Akashiyaki hip-thrust off his seat, spearing his mozzarella stick down his gullet before jumping back, his head tentacles swaying in a rhythmic pulse. His agility came as a surprise. Curse my slowed reflexes. I shouldn’t have had a fourth shot.

Beelzebub attempted to tackle him when a cloud of inky black wetness hit him like a jet stream in the face, coating him in its foul pollution. He staggered back, gagging, wiping his mouth. It took every ounce of his willpower not to hurl. That rum was too expensive to waste. Don’t. He swept the shit from his eyes. Like an odorous, hideous cloud, it lingered. He tried to push through, to track Akashiyaki. The seconds went by at an accelerated pace while he toiled. Ledas laughed, approaching him.

“Oh man, he got you. Direct hit.”

“You could run him down, you know? Get him.”

“Ah, too late. He’s long gone.”

“You did that on purpose. Why am I not surprised?”

“I recall you promising to handle it. That wasn’t my mess.”

I shouldn’t have expected anything else. Ledas was too nonchalant. He didn’t care. That infuriated Beelzebub, though he tried to play it off. Couldn’t lose his cool. The Fiend Prince doesn’t get got. Maintain my royal poise. “We have to pursue him. He’s going to hit the nearest planet, wherever that is, steal more food, and continue being a menace.”

“Dude should be called the Octopussy with how he fled. He was an embarrassment to his people.”

Ryori looked away, face-palming.

He tried his best to resist, but he couldn’t. The corners of his lips wavered, and he broke. “Heheh, too right you are. We’ll get that coward. I’ll get that coward.”

Ledas was staring at his dom, who refused to blink. Offended he can’t take a joke? I get it. He wouldn’t speak. He was without speech. Noticing, that niggling feeling, was a relentless, intangible emotion to wriggle through.

Shame cascaded down his shoulders. He should have caught him. Wallowing’s for losers. A blip on the radar, a bump in the road. He’d capture him no matter what. Akashiyaki’s days of freedom were numbered. “Take him alive, by the way. His bounty’s zero if he’s dead.”

“Gotcha. Alright, let’s return to the ship. Ryori, Carawa, ready to go?”

Ryori scarfed down the remaining galin wings while Carawa sucked up the rest of his smoothie through his straw. Wonder if he got a brain freeze. They joined them two minutes later. His fingernails were digging into his forearms. Every second counted.

“Are we going after him?” Ryori asked.

“Damn right we are. Nobody gets away from us. We’re not failing this mission. It’ll ruin our reputation,” Beelzebub said. “Come on, let’s go. We have to track him before he disappears into space.”

In the parking lot, Ledas threw the capsule, springing forth their ship. He was annoyed at how easily their prey had slipped through their fingers. Wouldn’t happen again. His father had trained him and trusted him to become who he was meant to be. He couldn’t let him down, despite knowing he was dead and horribly reformed in heaven. No matter. I’ll find Akashiyaki. He can’t hide forever. If I’m going to be a bounty hunter, I have to learn how to deal with unfavorable situations.

Beelzebub folded his arms while walking up the ramp. “When it comes down to it, let me at him.”

“You can have your day, dude, I don’t care.”

In haste, they strapped in and left that rock, never to return. Beelzebub assumed Ledas had left woolongs on the table, as he hadn’t paid. We’re after a thief. Best not mimic his actions. Oh well, what was done was done.

---

June 25, Age 776

Inside Ledas’ spaceship in space above Sloppy Salpico, on the outskirts of what was formerly Frieza’s Empire

While the alien’s ship was nimbler than they’d expected, Theodosius had no trouble following him. Capsule Corp. tech beat whatever the hell he was flying. Beelzebub was at the command console, watching intently, tapping his foot. He’s embarrassed about letting that guy get away. As well he should be. Gotta make it right. Carawa was on the couch, playing his Switch while enjoying a cup of mango-pineapple juice. Meanwhile, Ledas helped Ryori set up the massage table. Ledas was being his typical aloof self, barely paying attention to Theo’s updates. I bet he let the bounty go to make the hunt more exciting. He’s a thrill seeker.

In the interim, Ryori would try to provide him enough physical satisfaction to loosen him up for the task at hand. He’d only been a masseuse in training for around two weeks. It had been on their last vacation down to the Crimson Fingers where his grandparents lived that he had decided that was what he wanted to do when he graduated high school. He aspired to get better every day, no matter how slow his progress. Any little was a gain. Consistent practice was key. Getting comfortable with the various beginner and intermediate techniques he was learning was crucial for his skills to progress. He was impatient to become world-class, not that that’d ever happen.

“Damn, he’s zippin’ by. Burning through his fuel. We’ll be lucky to run into him again,” Beelzebub said.

“Our quarry is on a trajectory toward Planet Chelbalos, located 5.3 light-years away. We should reach the planet in approximately four hours,” said Theodosius.

“Isolate a close-up of the ship,” Beelzebub commanded. “And provide a rundown of the planet.”

“As you wish, master. Here’s an image of the bounty’s vessel captured before take-off.” A picture of a sleek red-and-grey single-seater appeared on the main screen. It was, for the most part, a nondescript, pedestrian craft. There were a billion like it. Looked to be sporting a custom paint job.

“Sear that image into your minds,” Beelzebub said, looking over. “If we find it, we gotta destroy it. That way, he can’t escape again.”

“Yeah, yeah, got it,” Ledas said, craning his neck to view the screen from upside down. He’s distracted. Can’t blame him. A smug thought, but true. Ryori rubbed down his shoulders to his chest, running his hands over his six-pack. Not gonna lie—his breathing quickened, his blood flow surged in his loins as he caressed his boyfriend’s muscles.

He didn’t bother remembering the ship’s exact make and model. Wasn’t going to catch the guy, nor even try. He was fifteen years old. Not exactly the bounty hunting type. Leave it to the professionals. I’m the support staff. And support he would. Practicing massages was his way of leveling up. His goal was to get accepted into a massage therapy school after finishing high school. Although it was an expensive prospect, Jia had the funds. That’s a few years away. I have time to prepare. Getting good before then was critical. Showing up on the first day as the worst masseuse would be mortifying. His pride wouldn’t allow for that. As long as he put effort in and trained with diligence, gaining experience and competence, it wouldn’t be an issue.

“Planet Chelbalos, formerly Planet Frieza 73, is a temperate world of grasslands and forests. Originally, it featured a single outpost and several thousand kilometers of automated farmland before its abandonment in Age 772. Recently, the outpost was resettled by intergalactic peoples of many species. Two years ago, the outpost expanded into a city known as Torgbos. The city prides itself on being a ‘dry town’, meaning there is a zero-tolerance policy relating to drugs or alcohol within its borders. Offenders will be thrown into prison by the town’s security staff. From what I gather, sentences for these crimes are severe—ten years to life in prison.”

“Lame,” Ledas said.

“Puritanical assholes,” Beelzebub said. “At least we know what we’re getting ourselves into.”

“Fear not, my thirsty friends. A second town, two hundred thirty-seven kilometers east of Torgbos, known as Halcuria, popped up seventeen months ago. It is governed by a spice merchant named Jelipur Jobescaint. Halcuria is a casino town featuring several buildings owned by Jobescaint where spacefaring gamblers can try their luck at slot machines, card games, dice games, and other probability-based games. There are plenty of bars and Nil lounges to enjoy between sessions. It is theorized that this town appeared in direct response to criticism of the way Torgbos is run.”

“Halcuria sounds like the shit. Let’s start our search there. I’d bet anything that’s where Akashiyaki went. On the off-chance he didn’t, I’ll fly to the lamebrain town on the other side of the planet. Beelz, Ryori, and Carawa, stay together and search for him in the casinos.”

“Whoever finds him first wins,” Beelzebub said with a grin. “And whoever loses has to buy the winner lunch. I’m not talking about at a dingy fast food place. I demand a quality meal, one fit for a prince.”

“Deal. You don’t know who you’re up against. I’m gonna win. I remember his energy signature. Won’t take half an hour to track him down. There’s no way he has the skill to suppress his energy.”

“It’s on. I’m gonna smoke you. And when I do, you owe me a feast and a half.”

“Uh, huh, sure.”

Ryori murmured for him to turn over and lie on his stomach. He began working on his upper back. Ledas’ tail wrapped around his waist, one of the ways Saiyans showed love and intimacy with their partners. Felt a twitch in his pants, not gonna lie. He tried his best not to fall into temptation. While they’re chasing lolcows, I’ll try the slots. I’m bound for a big payday. Too many bad luck sessions in a row. Gotta hit a killer haul soon. Have to. Wouldn’t be fair, otherwise.

Beelzebub came over, tapping his datapad. “Get a load of his rap sheet. 581 counts of swimming while intoxicated, 384 counts of stealing food without paying, 98 counts of inking the pool, and 65 counts of stealing newspapers from galactic libraries.”

“So random. I mean, he gets around. What an odd fellow, flouting society’s conventions at every turn,” Ryori said.

Ledas said, “It’s perfect, actually. He’s small-time. Weak as a flower. He’s gotten away with loads, so his bounty’s decent. His antisocial personality is our ticket to riches. He’s the dream target. I wish we could hunt down a hundred of him.”

“Don’t forget he’s slippery. He has a keen instinct to flee when he’s in danger. That has to be how he’s gotten away with this for like ever. We have to keep our guards up. He’s more cunning than he appears. He could possess more sneaky tricks besides that inking technique.”

“Just don’t get inked again, bro, and you’ll be good.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me. That’s not gonna happen. I swear on the royal throne. I never make the same mistake twice.”

“Hey, after I’m done with him, would you fancy a massage? Free of charge. I’m practicing for school, so the more bodies I can get my hands on, the better.”

“Ryori’s awesome. You should take the deal. It feels great and will loosen you up before the hunt. You’re too tense, Beelz.”

“I’m fine. Really, it’s okay. Besides, you’re only saying that because you’re together.”

“Nuh uh. His hands are lovely.”

“He’s an amateur. No way he’s any good.”

Arrogant bastard. I didn’t say I was a great masseuse. At the very least, I’m not terrible. “Suit yourself,” said Ryori. “You don’t know what you’re missing.”

“That’s what they all say.”

Ignoring him, Ryori asked, “Anyone thirsty? There’s fresh mango-pineapple in the fridge. Imma get a cup.”

“Ooh, ooh, me,” Ledas pleaded.

Carawa looked over from the couch, where he’d been playing on his Switch, holding up his plastic cup, dangling it around to show its tragically empty state. “Gruh, arruagh.”

“Sure, why not?” Beelzebub said with a shrug.

Ryori didn’t mind playing the servant role now and then because he wasn’t a bounty hunter. He was bounty-hunter-adjacent at best. Had to pull his weight somehow. I’m not lazy. I’ll earn my spot on the team and show Beelz that I’m not here simply because I’m with Ledas. He poured four glasses, sneaking a droplet from a tiny white bottle into Ledas’ while his back was to them. Oh man, this is gonna be amazing. Can’t wait to see the look on his face. I gotta have my phone ready. Carawa ran off with his, while Ryori and Beelzebub sat at the table, sipping slowly, employing a respectable pace to prevent brain freezes. Ledas remained on the massage bed, lying on his stomach.

“Yo, what are you waiting for? Come on over,” said Beelzebub.

“In, um, a minute. Just have to cool off. Can’t exactly stand up at the moment.”

Beelzebub face-palmed. “Are you serious? You’ve got to be kidding. Bro.”

“I told you he’s good. The best.”

“Thanks, I’m good. I’m not hardwired that way.”

“A massage is innocent,” Ryori said. “It’s not like that.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. I know your game.”

Managing to induce that reaction in Ledas was the best, cleanest pleasure. I’m a real masseuse. That’s not playing around, that’s professional shit. Shows Beelzebub. Can’t talk crap about me anymore. After his blood cooled, Leeds joined them at the table, gulping down his juice with such gusto that Ryori was at first certain he’d bypassed the taste. Without warning, he gagged and spat the juice onto the floor, dropping the cup to shatter into a million pieces. Good thing we have CLEAN-BOTs.

“Ooh, we’ve got a hurler. Watch out, he’ll hit you from a distance. Back away, folks, back away,” Beelzebub said, cupping his hands around his mouth.

Ryori couldn’t help but burst into laughter.

“Oh, by Frieza’s swollen nips, that was nasty,” Ledas said, wiping his tongue with a paper towel before dashing to the sink to wash out his mouth. His shoulders buckled every time he gagged. “What the hell did you put in that? That wasn’t pineapple-mango.”

“It was. I added a drop of Bitrex. Man, you should’ve seen the look on your face when you…when you…oh crap, that was too funny.”

“Bitrex? What’s that?”

“It’s the most bitter substance on Earth. You can taste one drop in a swimming pool, let alone a cup of juice. How bad was it?”

“Horrible. I can still taste it. I’m dyin’, man.”

“Gnarly.”

“Here, drink this.” Ryori handed him his half-full cup. “Better?”

Ledas chugged it down, wincing again. “Ack, brain freeze.”

“Dude, you can’t win today,” Beelzebub said, laughing into the back of his hand.

“Where’d you get the Bitrex from? How long were you waiting to pull that prank?”

“Shoekki confiscated it at the Dream Land security screening checkpoint like a week ago. I was super curious to see if it was as bitter as he claimed. Cheer up, dude, you were the perfect test subject.”

“You didn’t dare try any yourself.”

“Of course not, that shit’s nasty.”

Ledas’ eyes narrowed. “I expected no less.”

“You should’ve told me you were pranking him,” Beelzebub said, shaking his damn head. “I could’ve recorded it. That would’ve been sweet.”

“For your camera’s sake, it’s better you didn’t.”

“Is that a threat, dude? You tryin’ to say somethin’?”

Ledas’ smile was dark with his typically boyish Saiyan mischievousness. “Nah, nothing, my sweet prince. Def not. Anyway, we have three hours to kill. Wanna play Smash?”

“Hell yeah, I’m in,” Beelzebub said. “This time, I’m claiming Mr. Satan. He’s OP. I love his movement. So smooth, so quick.”

“You better believe it,” Ryori said. “They model his character off how he moves in real life. Nailed it as far as I’m concerned.”

Rolling his eyes, Ledas no doubt thought Ryori was a jabroni for his Mr. Satan glazing. Nevertheless, he was unapologetic. Let him get triggered. That’ll make him easier to beat. The champ puts on the best show in the ring. No other martial artist can compete. He’s a remarkable guy. Ledas can only dream of reaching his level.

2. Chasing Ghosts

June 25, Age 776

Halcuria Space Port, Chelbalos

From inside the port, nobody could guess Halcuria was a city that never slept. The drab, grey walls shone with a dull, dirty, metallic luster. Otherwise, it was a barren place, bereft of plants, paintings, and statues. Modernism gone mad, Beelzebub thought, disapproving of the architecture. At the door, an attendant sporting a long trench coat and a well-permed afro asked them to pay the docking fee. Ledas returned the ship to a capsule, pocketing it.

“A fee for what exactly? We’re not taking up space. Screw that. You aren’t shaking us down.”

“Please, sir, every visitor to Chelbalos must pay the docking fee. You are using our facility. It’s mandatory.”

Ledas raised his left hand, forming cyan energy before it. There’s no need. “Wait,” Beelzebub said, “let me do the honors.”

Casually moving past the attendant, his arms folded, slinking like a sly dog, Beelz drew the man’s attention. He looked over his shoulder and spat on the sleeve of his purple suit, turning him to stone. His face had twisted in horror as he had had just enough time to realize what was happening before being frozen in place. Grotesque was his visage.

“Whoa, what the heck was that? Did you kill him?”

“Nah, I turned him to stone. Now, if he were to break, he’d die. That’d be tragic. I’ll leave him like that till we leave. If anything happens in the meantime, well, that’s fate for ya.”

“Good thinking, dude,” said Ryori, whom he thought little of. “Nifty trick. Shame you can’t work a glory hole with powers like that.”

“That was awesome. Your demonic techniques are spectacular. It’s why you’ll be a great asset on my team.”

Contemptuous bastard. “It’s our team, Ledas. We founded it together.”

“Oh yeah, right you are. My b. Um, let’s get going. Lots to do.”

A slip of the tongue. Yeah right.

Outside, Beelzebub felt his breath leave his throat in a shudder, an overwhelming sense of smallness pressing down on him. The buildings were taller than he’d imagined, rising hundreds of meters. There are so many. Wow. This place is massive. Every which way he looked, the colors of society, of life itself, shimmered—reds, blues, greens, purples, pinks, and oranges blurring together in an empty, euphoric, pulsing, trance-inducing beat. The city of Halcuria was alive. There was movement; there was vigor. People, or to put it more precisely, their desires, were at play. He looked to the stars, blinking feebly in the night sky. They were distant specks flickering white. Brittle, not robust. Not like here. He shivered. If only immediacy were the ultimate power. Being taken by visual eye candy was nothing to write home about.

“Alright, I’ll see you guys. Keep in touch,” Ledas said, tapping his ear. “If anything goes down, call me. I’ll be back in a flash.”

“See ya, babe,” Ryori said.

“Gruh,” Carawa agreed.

“Later. By the way, I won’t need to use one of those. I can communicate with you telepathically.”

“Okay, but then how would I be able to respond to you?”

He looked away, his face burning in shame. “Fair point. Hadn’t thought of that.”

“Let’s get this over with so we can claim our prize. Shouldn’t take long. Please, I’m dying for a different adventure. This guy isn’t it, you know? I wanna chase a flashier bounty. Someone who can actually fight back. That’d be fun.”

With an air of impatience, Ledas shot off into the night, his blazing cyan aura fading into the darkness. In the blink of an eye, he was gone. The wind went with him. Beelzebub could breathe again.

“Let’s get to it.”

“Lead the way, man.”

Carawa was at Ryori’s side. Why did Ledas leave me with his catamite? I suppose I would have had to fly to the other city if they’d stayed together, and he’s faster than me, so it makes sense, but I hate being stuck with dead weight. A particularly uppity crowd of green-skinned aliens hitting Nil sticks was congregated before them, hyping themselves up, scrunching together, their arms thrown around. He wasn’t particularly interested in getting close. A cloud had formed around them, presenting onlookers with a clear barrier for entry into their hedonistic hellhole. They were singing or chanting or shouting incoherently, he couldn’t tell.

The streets were packed with travelers. More than he could count. More species than he could identify. They were truly on the alien frontier. This was bounty hunting. This is what it felt like to be alive. His anticipation was borderline exhilaration. He was keen to see their plan through. As a bounty hunter, he had to act professional and not let his emotions overwhelm him. That’ll get easier with more experience.

To their right was a casino called Flying Aces. He nudged Ryori, saying, “Let’s check it out. He might’ve gone in there to steal food or gamble. Wouldn’t surprise me.”

His mind was elsewhere as he twirled his hair between his fingers. “Yeah, yeah, superb idea.”

“Don’t get in the way when we find him. It’d be a bummer if you were to bite it. Our adventure would be ruined. Reviving you would be anticlimactic. Would take another chapter or two to pull it off. Don’t make us go down that road.” He flicked a speck of eye matter away, and how it left his fingertip in its fleeting trajectory soothed him.

“I know, alright? I’m not gonna get myself killed. That’d be the dumbass thing to do. Only here to watch. If it comes down to a fight, I’ll record it, but I’m not getting close. Instead, I’m gonna burn loads of woolongs at the slots. I’m bound to hit this time. I’m owed.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

He raised an eyebrow, which was far too obnoxiously conceited for Beelz’s liking. “Watch me. I’m untouchable.”

“Do that, and I’ll turn you to stone. Check yourself. We need every woolong we can get to buy a planet to serve as our interstellar outpost.”

“I’ll call that bluff. You care too much about your life. Trust me, I know how it feels. Turn me to stone and Ledas’ turn you to dust.”

“Whatever. You better not lose the rest of our money,” Beelzebub said with a shrug, thrusting his wrist into the air like he didn’t care (a great feint move in his estimation). I hate how smug he gets. Without Ledas, he’s nothing. Morbidity was a cruel, pressing feeling.

Entering the casino was like taking five shots of espresso in a row. The colors and the sounds overwhelmed his senses, hitting like a tidal wave. People were everywhere, the glittering, blinking machines rolling patterns across their faces as addicts lost woolongs by the millions. At felted tables, dealers dealt loaded decks to hopeful prospects banking their life savings on hitting it big. He knew their game. Sad, sappy suckers. Chasing the impossible dream. Most of them have to be down bad. The rest aren’t aware of their ensnarement. Their moment will come.

He noticed and quite quickly fancied a VR setup to the left of the ₩100/200 slot machines. Ryori was drawn in with him. Headsets fashioned in the manner of helmets, along with controllers for each hand, rested at charging stations. He was unsurprised when his companion booted up Lot Lizard Simulator 14. His natural calling. He was more interested in playing Local God of a Medium-sized Backwater World. Carawa watched, taking short videos with a phone that would surely be used to mock them in the future. Beelz didn’t care. They probably looked silly wearing the helmets, but he was having fun. He was in the throes of delight, smiting down peons for daring to do anything except praise and worship him, as was his prerogative. The game checks every box. I’m a god. And boy, did it feel good to rain down hellfire upon disbelievers.

A shrimpy fellow (by Papa’s sword did he have long whiskers) and a horned, red-skinned alien sidled over, joining the VR session against Beelzebub’s divine will. Polytheism wasn’t in the cards. He had not asked for this. His people had not prayed for it. The buzz in the room tempered his inner thoughts enough to let them in, as much as he resented their presence. They slipped on the VR gear, and wouldn’t you know it, but another pair of gods spawned into the game out of thin air. As if on cue, the ignorant masses began worshiping them. He tried his best to persuade them otherwise. Alas, his charisma wasn’t as infectious as he had assumed. He couldn’t hold his own. Soon enough, their influence overpowered his, and he was castigated as a devil, stripped of his titles, his churches burned and demolished, and his religions disbanded. He threw the headset and controllers onto the ground. Would’ve spat on them too had he been feeling vengeful. The Fiend Prince would perform a blasphemous, inconsiderate action once every thirty times. Today was not their lucky day.

The shrimp man caressed his whiskers. “Simmer down, my guy. Don’t be a coward and run off. How about we make a friendly wager on who comes out on top in the next game? Does ₩40,000 sound good to you?”

He grit his teeth, feeling his fingernails pierce the flesh of his palm. I shouldn’t. They mean nothing to me. I don’t need to. Despite that, something inside him compelled him onward. He wouldn’t give up. “Alright, no sweat. I’ll take you on. I fear no foe.”

“Put up or shut up,” the shrimp said.

He did and paid dearly for that. From the corner of his eye, he noticed Ryori and Carawa bleeding woolongs on the slots. This was a disaster. Time sped by. His reflexes were lethargic. He was slipping. Every move, every decision was off by a hair. How he couldn’t react more decisively when he was trying to perform at his best tilted the hell out of him. Errors compounded upon errors upon missed opportunities. He could see victory clearly, but was half a step behind the whole way. Incompetence was infuriating—doubly so with mistakes of his own making. Would’ve screamed had he been in private. The mere presence of hundreds of gamblers who could see and hear him kept him composed. He smote in his ruin, the GAME OVER sign flashing before his eyes in an irritating red pulse.

“What a shame, lost again. Feel bad for ya, kid,” the horned man said, clapping him on the shoulder. “How about double or nothing? Ready for round three?”

Yanking the headset off, he clawed at his hair in dismay, closing his eyes and raising his face upward, frowning, the emotions almost bubbling over. Don’t let them get to you. Not in this place. Remember your mission. Exhaling, his spine stiffening, the prince regained his wits, a derisive smirk forming on his lips. “Yeah, right. I’ve got better things to do than waste my time with a couple of trash-talking small-time gamblers. Get out of my face, loser.”

They were spoiling for a fight. I’ll spare them, he thought, offering them magnanimity and mercy in spite of everything. He had more important things to attend to, namely, stopping Ryori from blowing the last of their woolongs on the slots. Carawa whooped and clapped as he spun mindlessly. Of course, your beast would be your cheerleader. This madness needs to end. We can’t go into debt. We have to buy a planet. We won’t be legitimate bounty hunters until we’ve built our base.

“Sup,” Ryori said with a nod, pressing the button again, running the slot rampant as slews of pictures and numbers flew by. “Everything alright?”

“In fact, everything is most certainly not alright. You’re betting money we can’t afford to lose. Your spending’s way overboard. We had a deal.”

“Don’t hassle me, man. I’m gonna hit a bonus. Wait for it.”

“Oof, you’re more degenerate than I thought. Get control of yourself, man, or we’re gonna go broke. Your addiction’s unseemly.”

“Seriously, just a couple more,” he pleaded, the lights flashing against his face as he retriggered every few seconds.

“Hurry up. We have to catch that dude. Your fiancé wouldn’t be pleased to learn we’ve been delayed because you can’t stop gambling.”

“Yeah, yeah, I heard ya.”

The rows cycled and spun, always ushering in a new pattern, the woolongs draining, the colors and symbols flashing by almost too quickly to register. He could hardly keep up. After about forty of them, they landed a fat win—₩825,000. Ryori punched the air; Carawa beat his chest; Beelzebub’s chest fluttered with a deep thrill. That was way past cool.

“Run it again. C’mon, c’mon, quick,” he found himself saying against his better judgment.

“Alright, alright, don’t get your panties in a bunch.”

“What’s the jackpot?”

“Ten thousand to one. Have to hit the asteroid bonus. It’s hella rare.”

“Keep spinning. If we hit it, we’ll be in a great position to buy a planet.” Beelzebub was transfixed. Had a camera zoomed in on him, he was sure his look of semi-vacant ecstasy would bury him in waves of cringe. Better to not dwell on anxious unrealities, on worst-case scenarios. “Keep going. More, more.”

“Heh, now you’re sounding like Ledas in heat. Careful, dude.”

Indignantly, he thrust up his chin. Foul human. “Shut up and hit it.”

And so he did. And so the slot ate his money, giving paltry prizes in return. The mediocre wins here and there were not worth cataloguing. Gambling was a brutal and lonely game. At least he wasn’t sitting at the slot. Experiencing the lows vicariously more than made up for it. I can’t go down that route. I know myself. I’d lose every last woolong even faster than he is. I’d be betting triple trying to make up for my losses. Ryori kept spinning. He’d blown through two or three bounties already. Beelz’s enraptured state began to dull. The allure was no longer overwhelming. The house always won. Why were they here?

A purple-skinned man with a white mohawk and pointy ears wearing a fancy white-and-blue suit walked by. The spell was broken. He gravitated away from Ryori’s selfish antics, refocusing. Remember why you’re here. Don’t let the bounty get away. Gliding over, he tapped the man on the shoulder, who was running his grimy hands through his slicked-back hair as if that’d make him look better. He was on the chubby side, rocking a mashed potato look.

“Hey there. Do you run the casino?”

“Me, oh no, I’m the floor manager. Do you require something, sir?”

“I’m after a bounty who might have stopped by earlier. He would have been stealing food off people’s plates. Typically makes a big scene. Sound familiar?” Beelz projected a holographic image of Akashiyaki on his datapad, which shone synthetically blue and purple in 3D. “Have you seen this guy before? Was he here today?”

“Ah,” the manager said, folding his arms and pursing his lips. “I have seen that man. That ruffian was causing mayhem in the Spordadios restaurant on the third floor not three hours ago. Security attempted to kick him out, but he inked them and got away. A shame, really. I would have loved to see that man in chains. His manners were horrible.”

“Yep, that sounds like Akashiyaki. Do you know where he went? I’ll get rid of him for you.”

“I’m not sure where he is at present. It’s hardly my concern. He ran out of the casino. My team chased him down the road until he was out of sight. Let me tell you, he won’t be coming back. He’s been trespassed from the property. My guards will be on the lookout. Unfortunately, I wasn’t aware he had a bounty on his head. Otherwise, we would’ve held him for you.”

“No worries. He’s barely more than a nuisance. When we find him, he won’t get away again. How long ago would you say he ran out of here?”

“Two, maybe three, hours ago.”

“Hmm, he’s probably still in the city.”

“He could be, sir. I doubt he’s nearby. He left in a, shall I say, panic. Wide-eyed, sweating, tentacles flapping—it was a sight to behold.”

“Thanks for the info. Well, time to split.” He whistled at Ryori to join him. Begrudgingly, he got up from his seat, spinning the slot three more times before coming over. “Alright, dude, we got a lead. He was here earlier before getting kicked out. Let’s search the rest of Halcuria. He could be hanging around.”

“Oh, alright. I was having so much fun, though.”

“We can gamble after catching him. Don’t be a spoil sport.”

Ryori made a face before shrugging. “Lead us on, dude. Carawa, stay close.”

Always has him on his mind. “Let’s check the restaurants first. Akashiyaki’s probably stealing off people’s plates at o—”

“Did I hear you say Akashiyaki?” the shrimpy alien said, walking over, his friend following close behind. He was hideous when he smirked. Scrolling on his wrist-pad, no doubt looking up the bounty’s info, he came to a stop before Beelz. “I remember him. That thief has a hefty bounty on his head. We’ve been keeping tabs on him. ₩8,500,000 is an extraordinary price for a criminal of his caliber. How could we say no to that? The Galactic Patrol is desperate to be rid of him. To hear he’s come to this world within the last few hours means it’s our lucky day. We could use the woolongs.”

“Buzz off, Shrimpy. He’s mine. Find your own.”

“Are you implying you’re a bounty hunter? Don’t make me laugh,” the horned alien cackled. “You’re mad delusional, kid.”

“Show some respect. You’re talking to the Prince of the Demon Realm, Beelzebub. He’s a lot stronger than you’d ever dream of becoming,” Ryori said.

Goosebumps prickled his flesh. Thanks for the vote of confidence, dude. “And I’m not a kid,” Beelz said. “I’m over 2500 years old.”

The shrimp scoffed. “What, are you serious?”

“No, I’m Beelzebub, and I’m claiming that bounty.”

“We’re taking him. You’re a couple of wannabe hunters. You can’t lay claim to anything. Watch out, or we’ll take you down, too.”

“We followed him here. He’s ours. Get in our way and I’ll kill you.”

“Careful now. It’s one thing to play pretend, to fantasize. It’s another to jump in the ring with a seasoned veteran. I’ll slit your throat,” the horned bounty hunter said, drawing closer. “This isn’t a game. When you lose, it’s lights out.”

“Neither am I. You’re making this a problem. Just go away, man. We’re bringing him in, end of story. Leave us alone, and nobody gets hurt.”

“₩8,500,000 is a mighty fine price. That’s good money. Can’t walk away from that. If you wish to make it to your 2600th birthday, you’ll give up your fantasy of bringing in Akashiyaki. I’m trying to help. Be smart. Don’t get tangled up in a fight you can’t win. We’ve already seen how you play.”

“Nobody threatens me. You’re going down, Shrimpy.”

Beelzebub got on all fours, throwing himself at the shrimp man, who sidestepped with no effort. He flew into a slot machine, shattering it to a billion pieces, sending sparks, shrapnel, coins, and burning woolongs in every direction. Gritting his teeth, he turned on his heels and launched himself at the man again. He parried Beelz’s claw strikes, going on the defensive, though holding him off with calm confidence. He’s not half bad. Crap. This could take longer than I thought. Focus.

Hitting him with a palm strike, Beelz followed up with a spinning kick to his ribs, which caught the man off guard. Wincing, he fell to the disgusting sticky crimson carpet stained by Nil and other unmentionables, rising with lethargy. Stupid sea dweller. Think you can challenge me and walk away? No chance. He spotted the perfect opening.

“Excuse me,” the floor manager said, his voice rising in a fine whine. His face had turned a deeper shade of purple. “Fighting on the premises is strictly forbidden. I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave. Get out and never come back. Should you refuse to comply, security will throw you out.”

A legion of bouncers wearing blue-and-grey heavy armor flanked him, providing a disquieting presence. They were thirty strong at least. I could take them. There was no point. He didn’t care about the casino or anyone in it. He was hunting Akashiyaki. The bounty hunters were his opponents solely because they wouldn’t leave him alone. He wouldn’t involve anyone else. Father had taught him better.

Throwing his hands up in the barest form of contrition, Beelz bowed his head and trod off. “Sorry, my bad. Ryori, let’s scram.”

“Gotcha.”

They took off in a sprint. Ryori was breathing hard in the moonlight. He’s not in the best shape. “You good?”

He nodded. “Let’s find that octopus guy.”

“Not so fast,” the shrimp alien said, following them out. “I wasn’t messing around. Give up your pursuit. Akashiyaki’s ours. Hunt someone your own size, if you can manage. I don’t care if you’re the demon prince of hell itself. Piss off, or you’re in for a world of hurt.

Blasphemers must pay. You’ll regret making me angry. His face grew hot; his hands curled into fists. “You don’t know who you’re dealing with.”

“No, you don’t. Saccottine, prepare for my Paralyzing Resonance.”

“Read you loud and clear, Cavatel. I’m ready.”

“What are you talkin’ about?” Beelzebub asked.

They didn’t answer. Instead, the shrimp of a man, Cavatel, stepped forward, pulling his white long sleeves up to his elbows, where they hung perilously, soon to fall again should he make any sudden movements. Scowling, he spat to the side, huffed, and fell into an aggressive stance. He expected what was to come. Nevertheless, the pace at which he ran at him took his breath away. He put up his block to tank the front kick, barely managing to parry. The force of the shrimp’s attack pushed him back. His heels dug into the ground. His forearms stung. He’s no ordinary foe. Have to be careful. This is intense. The bounty hunter followed up with a left roundhouse and a kiai, both of which Beelzebub backflipped away from.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Ryori filming them on his phone. Curses. My actions must be flawless. I’m not gonna be made the fool.

Backflipping, he lashed out with a blow against Cavatel’s cheek, drawing blood. That was an encouraging sign. He slapped him across the lips with his tail. Bet that felt wonderful. Bet he took that like a champ. Beelz struck with his claws, punching at the shrimp, pushing him back. As soon as he was on the defensive, the prince rose into the air, hitting him with aerial downward kicks that forced him into unsavory blocking positions, which he exploited by unleashing ki blasts at his stomach and knees with his tail. The shrimp wilted, as he was wont to do. Expected. He was spouting nonsense. Dude’s cooked. Beelzebub went at him again with a spinning left elbow, this time for the kill. Demons weren’t supposed to kill their opponents. His father’s ethics clung to him like a scarf. Sometimes, the rules deserved to be broken. Sometimes, he had to be bad.

His attack missed entirely, hitting nothing, and he wobbled hard before Cavatel appeared to his left out of an afterimage and clenched his claw, flicking it forward, as if he were shadow-boxing a ghost. The pulse of air washed over him with a paralyzing vibration. He was stuck. A tingly feeling spread across his body from where he’d been struck, growing with intensity by the second. Another claw hit followed, and then a third. The air popped, and his vision grew fuzzy. His ears ached, his sense of balance faltering, and again Cavatel punched the air with his big, meaty claw.

The sound that overwhelmed him was cold and deep, coalescing at the tip of his spine after descending down his shoulders, caressing his flesh, inflicting total paralysis. He couldn’t believe he was being done in like this, couldn’t believe the shrimp had it in him. Beelz toiled, failing to break free from the kiai’s power. His confidence plummeted. That uncomfortable sensation of fear grew at a monstrous rate. These were random bounty hunters, regulars, if you will. He shouldn’t have succumbed to them. Shouldn’t have underestimated them. This was a serious fight. He needed to perform to the best of his abilities. No more tepid sparring, no more dillydallying. This was the VR game all over again.

The sonic stun weighed upon his shoulders, although he could feel its power waning, slowly retreating from his body. It can’t hold me forever. He took a deep breath, shaking the feeling, powering up to his maximum to break free. Don’t let him win. He’s trash. I gotta put him in the gutter, where he belongs. Beelz threw himself at Cavatel. His claws were extended. They traded dominance, parried well, dancing in the moonlight. The alien’s reaction time was slow. That was promising. He leaped into the air, kicking at his foe, who had pulled his fist back again and thrust it forward. The air wavered and boomed, a piercing sound blowing through. Beelzebub felt his body lock into place, unable to move. He’d lost his breath. That familiar, hideous sensation of paralysis engulfed him. Damn it, how did I let him trick me again?

The horned fucker came at him from behind, slamming his shoulder into Beelz’s back. He flew through a wall, landing in a puff of smoke, his face stinging. Hurting, he got to his feet, shaking debris from his hair. Lashing out with a spinning kick felt nice. The shrimp blocked it. He went in for the kill with a right roundhouse kick. Cavatel blocked his advances again, this time with both arms. Then his claw extended, and the sound and the fury of his attack overpowered Beelz’s thoughts. The force was acute, striking him like a blast of wind. He struggled to maintain consciousness. Try though he might, he couldn’t move through the screaming buzz the kiai had produced. The shrimp hit him with a double axe handle, flinging him onto the pavement, no doubt leaving a significant crater. His back was beginning to ache. The pain made him lucid, made him unwilling to accept defeat. He wouldn’t go down. Not against them.

As townspeople fled this way and that, Cavatel and Saccottine rained down blows upon him, blows he could endure at first, yes, but lacked the longevity for. Try though he might to dodge or get away, that bulbous red claw went back and thrust forward again, and the sound it produced was near enough to knock him unconscious. While by some miracle, he maintained consciousness, he found himself once again stuck in a wall. Another building had been destroyed. In the corners of his vision, he noticed bystanders fleeing. Cavatel plucked him from the wreckage, casting him aside like the refuse he was.

“It’s over. Akashiyaki’s ours. Got it?”

“Y-yeah, understood,” he said in a feeble voice.

Beelzebub might have appreciated the edgelord face he was making had it appeared on a meme. In real life, the man was terrifying. “Don’t cross us again. Final warning.”

His horned fellow clicked his tongue in agreement.

“I won’t.”

“If we meet again under similar circumstances, I’ll end your life. I’d rather it doesn’t come to that. Doesn’t need to get bloody. We’d rather not hurt you.”

Yeah, sure, pal. I’m convinced. “I’m done tracking down that guy. You can have him. Please, have mercy. I give up.”

“Wallow and bleed in the gutter. Think about what you’ve done. You’re where you belong. Saccottine, we’re out of here. The bounty’s surely left the planet. We have to move. He isn’t out of range.”

“I hear you, boss.”

The bounty hunters flew off, leaving a whirlwind behind. Throbbing pain pushed down on his shoulders like weights. His muscles trembling, Beelzebub rose to his feet. It hurt. Hurt bad. That didn’t matter. His pride was scarred more than anything. Ryori had seen him groveling. Rubbing his scraped forearm, he said, “They haven’t seen the last of me. I’m going to catch Akashiyaki. If they get in the way again, I’ll turn them into bloody piles of meat.”

“No offense, dude, but you got manhandled. I don’t think you can take them. Save that for Ledas.”

“That sonic strat was a cheap trick. I underestimated its power. Won’t make that mistake again. Without that, they’re nothing. No question I can smoke ‘em. The shrimp’s punches didn’t hurt.”

“You’re bleeding and beat to hell. You can hardly stand. Who’re you trying to convince?”

“It’s nothing, really. Demons regenerate fast. I’m fine. The next time we cross paths, I’ll destroy them. I promise. Until then, I’m going to gather the Power of Darkness, which’ll enhance my abilities many times over.”

“Power of Darkness? What are you talking about?”

“Look at the moon. It’s out. Perfect timing.”

He lept onto the balustrade of the nearest building, putting his arms out, raising his head, closing his eyes. It was remarkably quiet. Holding that pose required full concentration in his current state.

Ryori remained unconvinced. “How’s that going to do anything?”

“I’m fueled by the night. Moonlight’s the trigger. It unlocks my latent abilities. They crossed the wrong demon. Next time, I’ll get them. They don’t know who they’re up against. I’m bad. Real bad. I didn’t say thanks for lunch. I do that once every fifty times.”

Even though he couldn’t see it, he knew his eyes were sparkling red. Beelz was a devious guy (just horrible). Ryori was speechless, which he appreciated. The Power of Darkness filled his veins. The moon of this world, if it were the only one, sustained him, rejuvenating his body. He was ready to return to the hunt, to venture into the bounty hunting arena once more. The shrimp and his lackey were no deterrent. He would beat them. They were nothing. Leaving me alive will prove costly. Thinking I won’t get back at them is hella naïve. I’ll savor ending their lives.

Dancing slowly in the moonlight, he felt not an ounce of embarrassment. This was how his demonic ritual went. He’d done it many times before, to the point he had the routine memorized without needing to think to reenact it. His body moved on its own. This was the first time he’d needed his Power of Darkness outside of the Demon Realm. Been over two hundred years since I’ve had to do this. Ryori recorded him, surely to show his fellow sodomite once they regrouped. Beelz didn’t care. He needed to access every last shred of his power. He needed to gain as much as he could. Akashiyaki would be theirs. The shrimp and the horned man wouldn’t stop them. If they tried, that’d be the last mistake they ever made. Oh, how he wished they would.

---

June 25, Age 776

Old Timey Space Puritans’ Peep Booth, Torgbos, Chelbalos

The Shugebelos Grand Hotel’s pool had been empty and inkless; the Torgbos Public Library had long been abandoned. Not an alien soul in sight. The dust had been nearly five centimeters thick. His voice had echoed. No response. No rustling. Nobody’d been there in years.

In the Old Timey Space Puritans’ Peep Booth, stall #11, Ledas’ feet stuck to the ground. He tried to walk through as usual, meeting significant resistance. Clearly, there was a naughty explanation. Couldn’t exactly blame the dudes, as in the heat of the moment, it can be difficult to aim properly. I never have that problem. Ryori and I don’t let ours go to waste. That’s reckless. What a shame. Finding it funny, covering his mouth, he tried his best not to succumb to humor while on a mission. Had to keep his wits about him. Ugh, it’s all over the place. Disgusting. Unless it’s Ryori’s.

Looking through the next booth, he came across a pair of flat-faced, pointy-eared men with their pants around their ankles and binoculars hanging from their sweat-sheened necks. They grimaced, mumbling excuses, pulled up their pants, and stumbled over each other while clambering out. The shorter guy threw his jacket over his head as if Ledas would remember him either way. Their shame brings me strength. Couple of lolcows. The most surprising detail had been their lack of tripping or losing shoes to the magenta carpet.

“Good day, sir.”

“Sir, good day, yes,” his companion said, clamping his erect top hat to his skull with both hands as he fled. “Tata and bye for now.”

Ledas folded his arms, doing his best Vegeta impression. “Get on, you whelps. With pace, eh.”

They were gone, scurrying down the hallway like a pair of lecherous space rats. He wasn’t so much inclined to care as he was trying to stifle a laugh for the sake of politeness, that fickle, ephemeral concept. Clearing the room, Ledas sighed. This wasn’t what he’d hoped for. The excitement of the hunt hadn’t hit him. Where was the thrill? Where was his sweet dopamine reward?

His wrist datapad vibrated, updating Akashiyaki’s bounty. ₩500,000 added for a total of ₩9,000,000. He’s put on another show. The octopus had been found out for the eighth hundredth time. The restaurant was called Blowback’s Soup and Chowder Emporium, and it was nearby. He utilized the datapad, Theo ever in his ear to guide him, to find the way. Wasn’t far. His heart was beating hard and true, pulsing in his ears. A quick trip, his cheeks right proper wind-whipped, brought him to the eastern corner of the town square, wherein a restaurant by the name of Blowback’s Soup and Chowder Emporium lay. He wasn’t particularly in the mood for soup. He preferred his belly empty, his bladder full, waiting until that sweet, sweet release before indulging in extracurricular activities. Don’t get distracted. That’s a later thing. Earn your reward. The bounty remained at large. He had to maintain focus. He knew himself. He could easily lose concentration. Discipline drained his stamina, as necessary as it was.

Took about two minutes. He had to dodge like six buildings. Nothing came at him too fast. Descending to the blue cobblestone road, he landed near a lightpost, from which a blue-scaled lizardly bird alighted, frightened by his arrival. That street was a wind tunnel. His hair blew this way and that. People kept their heads down, speed-walking by, most in heavy, long-sleeved clothing, their faces concealed beneath scarves and hats.

A salmon-flavored scent drifted through the air, ever so familiar, and yet he felt like he was going back in time, reliving a fond memory from Age 774. Long had he gone without it, and that had been alright. He wasn’t the same person anymore. Didn’t tempt him to the same degree. Similar to what he liked, but not for him. He had rejected the jizz carpet wholeheartedly. This induced in him indifference rather than disgust, boredom rather than abhorrence. A single thought, like a light in a dark tunnel, was on his mind: he’d put the octopus in its pot.

Blowback’s was a fancy place with hanging flowers and a marble fountain featuring the likeness of Kuriza, Frieza’s son, pissing. Majestic couldn’t begin to describe it. Swag as hell. He took a picture, texting it to Ryori. The fragrance in the air sweetly contrasted with where he’d been previously. Everyone was dressed in their best space suits, space dresses, and body armor. A band played horribly pedantic adult space contemporary in the corner. He approached the front desk, where a green-skinned Jolean was looking over her datapad, no doubt confirming reservations. Her nametag read ‘Naduno’.

“Good evening, sir. Table for one?” she asked.

“An octopus-looking guy was here earlier. His bounty was updated on the Galactic Patrol site like three minutes ago. They confirmed he was here. Did you see him? Where did he go?”

“Bounty hunter,” she hissed. “How horrible. Per our store policy, we cannot cooperate with your request. You have taken many into custody who were innocent. Space pig. I cannot speak to you about this. I ask that you say nothing else of this matter in my presence.”

“You’re kidding.”

“I am not, as you say, the kidding type. Would you like a table? If not, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

“I’m tracking a fugitive named Akashiyaki. Octopus-looking guy. He’s been stealing food off people’s plates in restaurants all over the cosmos. Tell me when he came here so I can find him and get him off the streets.”

“I told you we do not assist bounty hunters. It’s against our establishment’s policy. Please, sir, I would prefer not to have to call security. Walk away.”

“That’s a dumb policy, considering I’m stronger than you. Answer or get wrecked.”

“I won’t—”

A Homing Finger Beam was enough to shut her up for good. Too bad for the carpet. That’d have to be deep-cleaned. Useless sack of flesh. Thought herself the Queen of the Universe, or perhaps Mrs. Untouchable. Not hardly. He turned to the next in line, the host, and boy had that Faerin’s cheeks gone lilac-pale. Smoke rose from Naduno’s body. To live that long and throw your life away over nothing. Real smart move, lady. You did your ancestors proud.

“Alright, let’s try again. Mr. Urimis, can you tell me about the octopus guy? Be careful with how you answer,” he said, pointing his smoking finger from the corpse to him. “He was here earlier, wasn’t he?”

Wiping sweat from his trembling upper lip that could have been greatly aided by the presence of a mustache, Urimis gulped. “Please, I’m not here for any trouble. Don’t hurt me. I’m an innocent bystander.”

“You’re a dumb person. Okay, got it. Tell me about the octopus guy, and I’ll let you go on your pompous way. I’m hunting him, not you. You’ll never see me again if you help. The faster you talk, the faster I’m out of here. Your choice.”

“You pollute this place with your presence, miscreant,” a man at a nearby table said. He was a distinguished gentleman, wearing a top hat half a meter tall and a frilly white suit. His mustache, as white as fresh snow, curled upward on its tips, most fancifully waxed. His female companion, almost as ancient as he, buried her face in her pocketbook, shaking her head. “Leave. Go on, get out of here. We’re enjoying a most splendid dinner to round out our evening. I paid an arm and a leg for this reservation. You’re spoiling our night.”

“Nice one, Mustache. Zip it or you’ll end up like Naduno.”

His wife or hooker or girlfriend slapped his arm, scowling. “That’s enough. Don’t get involved. You promised to keep your temper in check. Look at how you’re acting. You’re causing a bloody scene.”

He shrugged her off. “I’m shaking in my ₩3,450,000 satin Q’ar Bejhor Aquarlimi boots. The virgin bounty hunter versus the chad city council vice chairman. You don’t scare me, boy. I’d wager a case of buqoli cigars that you used up the entirety of your energy in your earlier fit of rage. You have nothing left.”

“A virgin, really?” Oh, how he laughed. “That’s the best you got? You sound more like a teenager than a dried-out geezer. I appreciate the bluster, though.”

He tugged on his curled mustache. “I spend more woolongs on lunch than you make in a year, I’d wager.”

“Well, Mr. Fancypants, you can probably afford to buy a new suit. Let’s make it rain.”

He shot an energy beam through the man’s hat, then released a micro Lightning Strike over his body, turning his clothes to ash. How the grey tears fell. He let out a roar of outrage before hopping up, unceremoniously snatching the tablecloth from under their plates, and throwing it over himself, covering his wrinkled, underused genitilia as he fled. His mistress wasn’t far behind. Good riddance.

“Look, I’m not in the mood to play games. We’re running on a tight window. Akashiyaki could’ve left the planet by now. Tell me what you know, or you’ve lived your last hour.”

“Sir, please, I don’t mean to be any trouble. I can help. You’re right, he was here. The owner gave the Galactic Patrol the security footage. That happened maybe ten minutes ago. We threw him out and banned him for life. I don’t know where he went or what he’s been up to since. I swear on my life, sir. That’s the extent of my knowledge.”

“Have you heard anything from him since?

“No, sir. He cursed at us and said he’d never return to Chelbalos.”

“Dude’s already on to the next world.”

“Could be.”

“See, that wasn’t so hard.” He returned to the door, stopping and saying, “And I’d drop that policy if I were you. That is, if you want to last longer than your boss. Don’t insult bounty hunters. We aren’t the forgiving type. And most are pretty strong. You’d do well to respect us.”

“Yes sir, of course.”

Outside, the stars drew his gaze. The sky twinkled bright, not a cloud in sight. The moon was robust as a snowy mountain. He tried his best not to stare, to keep it on his periphery, feeling his skin prickle, his breathing quicken. Closing his eyes, he cleared his mind, pressing two fingers to his ear, activating his Bluetooth device to contact Beelzebub and Ryori.

A purple furball came shooting past, hopping down the road. As he passed, Ledas felt a rustling in his pocket. The creature was up to his wrist in his pants. Don’t fist me, please. I’m not into that. Looking up, he bared his teeth, a double row of chompers, before sprinting away at great speed. Shit, a pickpocket. He rummaged in his pocket, realizing, in horror, his capsule was gone. Oh crap, the ship. We’ll be stranded. I’m not losing Theo. No way.

The rage came naturally. He kicked off, air-dashing down the road, locking onto the alien’s energy signature, which was barely high enough to keep track of. He tried his best to focus on its unique feeling, its quantity, and how fast it was moving. This guy can run. He’s no slouch. He almost went Super Saiyan. Restraining himself from emotionally going all-out was for the better. There was no need. He could catch the thief regardless. He had not descended into desperation.

He sped by buildings, their sharp forms softening on the edges of his vision. Torgbos was unsettling. The remnants of the Planet Trade Organization outpost made up the foundations of most of the structures. Roughly half remained intact. The settlers had built on top of the ruins, instilling a rustic, wooden, thatched-roof style. It was bizarre. Never seen anything like it. Everything was a little off. It felt wrong.

In the moonlight (he wasn’t looking, promise), Ledas caught up with the pickpocket in the back alleys behind what were the remnants of the barracks, which had been transformed into a collection of shops and restaurants. The furball was relentless, leaping from rooftop to rooftop. He fired a ki blast, knocking the beast into a pile of boxes. He bounced around like a football, which was entertaining as hell to watch. Panicked, getting to his feet, he realized the hunt was on and picked up his pace, vaulting between bits of rubble and ash to regain his speed. He jumped from the rooftops to ground level, trying to shake him. Impressive acceleration. Don’t get complacent. I need that capsule. That’s enough out of him. In the end, he was a bug Ledas was toying with. The game wasn’t entertaining enough to continue.

The frantic thief hooked and turned, shooting down derelict alleyways, past boxes, refuse, and sleeping bums, trying his best to lose him. Evidently, he didn’t think Ledas could sense ki. That was a losing strategy. He was hoping to tire him out, to take a cautious approach. The longer they went, the more incensed he grew. They ran through a park, of which there was no cover (great move), over a fence, into a hotel’s pool lounge, over another fence, and into a busy street.

The pickpocket was on the ropes, his stamina running on empty. The posh, prudish Torgboians were mingling in what appeared to be a farmer’s market, buying trinkets and bundles of food from an assortment of pop-up stands lining either side of the road. The furry bastard thought he could lose himself in the crowd. Not the worst strategy. Not a successful one, either. Ledas hadn’t been born yesterday. This wasn’t his first hunt. He was better at sensing ki signatures than Vegeta. He’d never lose him.

They were gawking at him. Their eyes, bestowing judgment, rendered scathing anxiety. His tail swayed back and forth. Struggling to remain focused, he grit his teeth, cleared his mind, and tried his darndest to maintain a fix on the fleeing alien. I can’t bear being around this many people. I have to get out of here. Enough was enough. He speared through the air. People ran this way and that, shrieking, as he came cratering down, laying bare his quarry. The puffball grunted, his beady, wet eyes shining, reflecting the artificial grandeur of the nearest lightpost.

A single punch made him keel over. He’s no fighter. I could’ve beaten him when I was four. Maybe two. Ledas plucked the capsule from his sweaty claw. The milling crowd was speculating and murmuring. He didn’t stay long enough to explain, slinging the alien over his shoulder and shooting off into the night. Ain’t nobody got time for that.

On his way back to Halcuria, he activated his Bluetooth and contacted Beelzebub. “Hey, I got an update from the last restaurant he hit. It was over here in Torgbos. They kicked him out, after which I believe he left the planet. We have to move.”

“Are you on your way back?”

He shivered, feeling an unnatural prodding inside his skull. “I’ll never get used to your telepathy. Why can’t you use the Bluetooth?”

Oh, so you have it on. “It’s easier this way. Don’t get distracted.”

“Whatever you say, man. I’ll be at the landing pad in a minute or two. Meet me there.”

“We’re on our way. Might take a sec. Your, ahem, friend can’t fly.”

Ledas had the ship ready for them when they returned. He was hanging out on the open ramp. True to his word, Beelzebub didn’t take long (approximately seven minutes). His face was beat to hell. He was sporting a black eye, and his shoulders were drooping. At least he was moving all right. Ryori and Carawa appeared untouched. That’s what matters. Ledas tossed his fiancé a water bottle. He was nursing one himself.

“Yo, what happened?”

“Got into a scuffle with a pair of bounty hunters. It was no big deal.”

“Beat ‘em?”

“He got smoked,” Ryori said. “They tag-teamed him. Lit him up. It wasn’t close. Wasn’t fair, either.”

Beelz frowned. “They relied on a cheap trick. Next time, let me handle it. They’re nothing to worry about. I’m fine, by the way. Demons regenerate way quicker than beings from this realm. I’ll be back to normal in a couple of hours, maybe sooner.”

They entered together, Carawa running in on all fours, leading the way. “We have to be more careful going forward. He knows we’re after him. He’s skittish, slippery.”

“He hits restaurants wherever he goes. Can’t help himself. That’s where we ambush him. Theo can find the nearest planet. Maybe we’ll get there before he does. His ship isn’t that fast. Hopefully, he’s headed in the same direction.”

“If not, this is gonna take forever,” Ledas said.

“We’d move a lot faster if your catamite weren’t tagging along. He isn’t helping. I can’t utilize my full potential whilst dragging him along.”

Ryori’s voice was more heated than he had expected. “Hey, I’m not a bounty hunter. You don’t have to babysit me. But if I’m coming along, I’m going to get the full experience on any planets we visit. That’s the whole reason I’m here.”

“Carawa’s his bodyguard. He’s stronger than ninety-nine percent of the scum we’ll come across. Use the communicator if you run into the other one percent. Otherwise, you can do whatever you want while we hunt, okay? You don’t have to stick around Beelzebub or me, but you also don’t have to avoid being with us. It’s up to you,” Ledas said.

“Sounds lovely. Don’t mind me. Carawa’s got my back.”

Looking up from his juicebox, the Saibaman said, “Mbah.”

Ledas reclined on the sofa, placing his hands behind his head and resting his left ankle on his right knee. “Let’s blow this joint. Chelbalos is a dump. The faster we’re outta here, the faster I can jettison it from my mind.”

“Speak for yourself. Halcuria wasn’t half bad. I won ₩432,000 at the slots. I told you I was in for a payday. Nobody believed me, but what can you say now?” Ryori said.

“Be cautious giving him money. He’ll dump everything he has on the slots.”

“Really? I didn’t know you were a degenerate gambler, Ryo.”

He shrugged. “Eh, when in Rome…”

“What’s that mean?”

“Forget it.”

Ledas threw Ryori another water bottle. They glugged and glugged until they could glug no more. Gotta prepare in advance. All that hunting’s led to this. I can’t wait.

At the central console, Beelzebub booted up Theodosius. “Yo, Theo, how’s it hangin’?”

“I am well, master. And yourself?”

“Couldn’t be better. Tell me, where’s the nearest planet? Not counting Chelbalos.”

“Calculating…calculating. Planet Harbolian is located 2.4 light-years away. It contains an estimated 3,200,000 people, making it one of the most populous worlds within one hundred light-years.”

Beelzebub craned his neck, looking over to Ledas. Their eyes met. He nodded. “Take us there,” Beelz said, savoring the authority of commanding Theo. He’s cosplaying as King of the Demons.

“As you command, master. We will arrive in approximately three hours.”

Beelzebub regrouped with them, sipping on an energy drink with a straw poking through the can. “Why are you drinking so much? Chelbalos wasn’t hot.”

“Nah, it’s nothing, don’t worry about it,” Ryori said, finishing his bottle and casting it aside (a CLEAN-BOT would dispose of it eventually) and cracking open another.

“Lemme say, you don’t want to know. Focus on the bounty, my friend,” Ledas said.

“Where I’m from, water’s a precious resource. Never seen anyone drink that much in one sitting. You aren’t wasting it, right?” Ledas winked. “R-right?”

He’d unnerved Beelz. That was a sweet feeling. “Oh, trust me, this isn’t going to waste. Not by a long shot. We’re keeping our eyes on the target.”

He and Ryori exchanged a look that was too bashful for public consumption. He was rather tired. Patience does not often complement weariness.

3. The Power of Darkness

June 26, Age 776

Mollusk Munching Madness, Harbolian

Plodding into another restaurant, his soles were pounding, aching in a manner akin to his muscles being unnaturally stretched in opposite directions, not that he’d know what that felt like. His tail dragged along the ground. Shit, I’ll have to take a shower before I hop into bed. Sure, demons regenerated faster than other beings, but his recuperation had barely passed the three-hour mark. Weariness was a weight upon his temples, upon his shoulders, upon his will. Twitching stomach muscles caused him to wince. Can’t do this to me. I’m starving. Two-thirds of the tables were occupied. Servers and waiters scurried about, attending to their assigned groups. Busybodies were droning on. He craved a seat. Badly. His fingernails bit into his biceps with a familiar, methodical ra-ta-ta-ta. Always left a mark for a minute or two. The Saiyan, his catamite, and their plant-like dog were at his heels. A decision had to be made. Beelzebub was the Prince of Demons, the king in waiting. Why did he hesitate? The mere thought was enough to make him scream (in private).

“I’m feeling peckish. How about we stop by for a bite to eat, yeah? We’ve been searching forever.”

“Yeah,” Ledas said. “I’m down. I’m positively famished.”

Ryori’s crestfallen demeanor was not lost upon him. “Aw, really? We were getting into the meat of the festival, getting to the good stuff. Can’t it wait? We haven’t stopped by the guy who could smoke a hundred Nil sticks at once. I was dyin’ to take a peek at hardcore addiction.”

“You’re a top, you don’t understand,” Ledas explained. “Sometimes you have to give a little to get a little. Beelz has the right of it. We need food. We’ve been searching for the octopussy for almost half an hour. A humble reward for our troubles isn’t too much to ask.”

He was glowering. “Make it snappy.”

They took a booth in the corner away from the sunlight. It wasn’t like he knew the cardinal directions of Harbolian, nor did he care to learn them. Despite the activity, they’d found a gem in the desert, a veritable oasis. Beelz secured the booth with his claws, leaving behind marks that could only be seen in the bitter magnescope of daylight, thankfully. Why he did that was any demon’s guess. Their server, a worrisome, anxious, green-scaled lizardly fellow, handed out their menus with the clumsiness of a rookie. Bless his heart, he was trying. Wasn’t a young’un. More than a third of his scales were faded grey. He was already calculating his tip. The dude was sloppy but earnest. He’d do right. He’d give a 22.6% tip if there were no shenanigans. As long as the man tried, he would put back in what he was given.

“I’ll have the six-tentacle medley in kal-vumoc esbemh sauce with extra green pepper,” Beelzebub said, casting his menu aside, drawing upon himself a pose that would make any demon shiver in respect.

“Kinda overpriced,” Ledas complained. “Could’ve eaten back on the ship. Aren’t there leftovers?”

“I thought you, of all people, would know. We’re cleaned out. I don’t care how fancy this place is. I’ve earned this,” Beelzebub said.

“The prince lacks stamina,” Ryori observed.

He bristled in royal outrage. “You test me, human. Keep your acidic tongue behind your teeth, whelp, and do not speak ill of me again.”

He lowered his bobbing head, performing a most sarcastic bow. “As your grace commands.”

And so they festered in their arrogance, exchanging hushed looks; and so they feasted. The fetid mud-burrowing underdwellers sure tasted nice when deep-fried. To say their flavor was extraordinary would be a wild notion, a madman’s boast, a declaration of insanity. He was a desert boy. Seafood wasn’t as nostalgic for him as it was for coastal folk. He could lose it, drop it, never think of or taste it again, and be no worse off. It’s edible, at least. Better than Ryori’s cooking.

Beelzebub sighed. A biting urge overtook him, and for a moment, he forgot his hunger. “He isn’t here. We’ve looked through loads of shops. No sign. Man, we gotta move. There are a lot more places to check. Eat faster, yo.”

“Be patient,” Ledas said (what an insane sentence for him to utter). “He might show up. If not, oh well, we’ll continue looking. There’s gotta be dozens of restaurants on this planet. Maybe hundreds. He’s inside one of them, guaranteed, although I haven’t sensed him.”

“Maybe he set off for a new world. His fancies are like the wind—ever fleeting, ever changing.”

“Oh, he’s here, alright. Bro, you haven’t been keeping track. His bounty was updated fifteen minutes ago for a dine-and-dash at a place called Palumbo’s. Theo confirmed it’s close. It’s on Space ‘Lantic Street. He was going to town before getting kicked out. It’s a matter of time before we bump heads. For some annoying reason, I haven’t been able to feel his presence. Dunno, he might be able to suppress his power level. That’d be quite a feat for a guy as weak as him.”

Beelz found himself playing drums with his utensils. “I can’t wait to settle the score. Gonna find him, gonna get him. The agony of waiting is intolerable.”

“Relax. He can’t run forever.”

“My eternal enemy. He’s out there, stealing off plates, inking pools, making a nuisance. He can’t keep getting away with it. Justice must be served.”

“Nah, think about it. It’s better if he keeps getting away with it, cuz that’ll raise his bounty. We pray for times like these, bro. He’s the perfect target.”

“True, but the longer he’s out there, the greater the chance someone else has of catching him, and then this will have been for naught. That’s my nightmare.”

“This seafood tastes weird, eugh,” Ryori complained, casting his kebab aside. “Not the best alien food I’ve eaten. Doesn’t hold up. Can we go?”

“We paid good money for that. Try to fake it. My father always told me never to waste food. That’s bad. Real bad,” Beelzebub said.

“Nah, brah, can’t. That was awful. Like a solid three out of ten. The good news is I’ll never have to come back.”

“There’s no reason to be overdramatic. Probably a seven for me. Your taste buds are off-kilter,” Beelz said.

“Hostile, yo. Why you gotta bring me down?”

“Why you gotta be a whiner?”

“At least I don’t have to wear a cape to make myself feel better. I have enough money for a shirt. You don’t look very princely.”

“So what? I still come out the winner cuz boobs turn me on.”

Ledas was leaning back in his seat, his hands behind his head, grinning ear to ear. He’s a troll, alright. “This is better than anything on TV. Keep going.”

The doorbell jingled. He hardly noticed. Moments later, coincidentally, a woman shrieked. She was an older lass, confirmed by the timbre of her voice. The heartiness in her vocals made him assume dumpy, droopy things he probably shouldn’t have. In his mind, he pictured short hair, perhaps dyed red or purple, a hefty weight that had taken years to build up (masterfully), and an inherent struggle to use an inside voice. To point that out would be a crime against whatever her species was, so he’d never do that. No, sir. He was a good demon. Stereotypes are bad, mmkay?

“My word, that’s my fried bulocalamari stick. Unhand it, fiend. I paid ₩1400 for it. Give it here.”

He stood resolute as a bony fish, slurping it up like a bottom-feeder desperate for dinner. He gobbled on that kebab with less decency than a back-alley hooker. He’s taking the piss. He picked the spear clean before casting it aside like a common rib bone. Akashiyaki had formally introduced himself to the establishment. They prickled up, realizing. Before he had finished blinking, Beelzebub hurled through the air, backflipping with a boyish recklessness (should his left foot have come down at a slightly imprecise angle, he would’ve been screwed). He managed. Survival was not an immediate stressor. His pride lived to fight another day. He was young.

“Stop,” Beelz said. He threw his arms out between the woman and Akashiyaki, taking command of the situation. “That’s enough out of you. Stealing food’s low-class. Pathetic thief. Your days of acting like a spoiled klepto are over, my guy. Face the music. My fists have been waiting to feel purchase. This is gonna hurt.”

He yanked him to the ground by a handful of his mouth tentacles. The urgent need to wash away the decay was abated by his desire to end things. Akashiyaki inked himself. He was blushing in embarrassment. A sad development. Beelz wasn’t having it. After three or twelve punches to the jowls, he stripped him of his masculinity, pinning him to the floor. Patrons murmured and distanced themselves. Scores fled, screaming and speed-walking. He procured a ki-restraining space steel zip tie from his pocket, handling Akashiyaki’s slippery appendages with the utmost professionalism. His resistance was irritating enough to make Beelz elbow him in the face thrice more. No cameras could prove that happened. At long last, he relented. At what cost?

With a look that could bring the average peasant to their knees in reverence, he pressed his boot to the octopus’ back, folding his arms, striking a pose that would’ve been fit for a Galacticbook profile pic. Why isn’t Ledas taking a picture? He has the perfect angle. That’s bollocks. I’m at my regal best. The Saiyan approached without his phone. Damn it, you’re ruining my moment. Beneath his foot, the vermin squirmed, his tentacles slapping his shoe. Took a helluva lot of restraint not to kick him.

“Please, let me go. I didn’t do nothin’. You have to believe me. This is a mistake, a mistake, I tell ya. I’m innocent.”

“Dayum, a ₩10,200,000 bounty. You’re gonna pay good. That’s what I’m talkin’ about,” Ledas said. Ryori and Carawa remained at the table, finishing their meals. Ledas is a bounty hunter like me. They are not.

“Let me go. I didn’t do nothin’. This is an outrage. Why did you attack me?”

“You said that already. I saw you steal that woman’s food. You can’t play that off. I caught you red-handed. Game’s up, Akashiyaki. We’ve got ya.”

“Mhm,” the portly lass said, “and he better pay for my order. I didn’t consent to him taking my kebab. That was my kebab. Mine. My own. He stole it, he did. Where’s my replacement? I’m owed. And on top of that, I’ll be asking for a refund. The service today has been terrible.”

“Yeah, uh, deal with that yourself. I’m sure the restaurant’s staff will be happy to help you. Anyway, that’s enough outta you. Go away. You are not favorable to look upon.”

Well, she put her hands on her hips, tilted her head in peak sassiness, and stared daggers through his soul. Hurt real bad. Disrespect me to your peril. Bellowing for a manager, she disappeared around the corner. He turned his back on her.

“Let’s take him in, yeah? The nearest Galactic Patrol penal colony’s a couple of days away. He can’t break out of the zip tie. He’s hella weak. Dude’s a fumbling mess.”

Akashiyaki struggled and fluttered and flopped about and made a right fool of himself, gaining no ground. He was caught, like an octopus in a pot under the summer moon, and try though he might, understood he had no recourse. It’s over. Finally. For as weak as he is, the payload’s massive. The Galactic Patrol has no idea how worth it this was. He was a headache, but not a threat. Ideal bounty.

He hoisted the man to his feet, confirming he was secure and unable to run off. Pride flooded his veins, releasing a mountain of dopamine. I’m a proper bounty hunter. I caught him. That was all me. “Alright, let’s go. Don’t struggle. Trust me, you don’t want to make this more difficult for yourself.”

“Please, don’t do this. I’m innocent, clean, respectable. Never so much as gotten a parking ticket in my life. I’m an honorable man.”

“Yeah, mate, we believe you,” Ledas said.

“I’m not lying. I didn’t do it. Wasn’t me. I was set up. Please, you have to believe me.”

“Well, if we have to, I guess that’s a different story. You’ve got a good point,” Beelzebub said.

“Pray tell, what has my bounty risen to? I’ll match whatever they’ve posted three times over.”

“Three times? You have ₩30,600,000 on ya? I find that hard to believe,” Beelzebub said.

Akashiyaki’s mandibles flexed upward and outward. He went pale. Slobber, or the equivalent, dribbled in various directions out of his ebon beak. He wasn’t close enough to be forced to dodge. “It’s that high? Are you serious? No, it’s not. You’re a greedy lout, trying to get one over on me.”

Beelzebub showed him the posted number on his datapad. He was leveling up in the restraint class by a good margin. “Wasn’t lying. Pay up or get bent.”

“Alright, okay. I understand. There’s no need to raise your voice. I have the money. I do. Don’t turn me in. Please, if I pay, will you let me go? I’ll give you your money, and you can be on your way.”

“₩30,600,000’s a lot of woolongs. You’re going to have to prove you have the dough.”

“I’m a man of my word. My card’s in my left pocket. Pin’s 36829. Take ₩30,600,000 from my account and call it even. Please. It’ll be a clean break. Let’s pretend we never met. There’s a space ATM across the street. I’ll point it out.”

His eyes met Ledas’. He nodded, casting his gaze to the left. It’s on. “Don’t pull any shenanigans and you’ll be fine, got it? Give us our money and we’ll be out of your non-existent hair. Let’s take this gently. Nice and slow.”

“Of course, man. I’m no cheat.”

He highly doubted that. They moved outside, finally getting those cataloguing eyes off them. A sweet relief, but just a drop in the bucket compared to everything else. Down the road, on the other side of the street, they came across a space ATM kiosk, swiped his card, entered the PIN, and were in. Full access, nice. Gullible bastard. This is too good to be true. He has ₩71,406,114 waiting to be spent. That money needs a new master.

“Did it go through?” Akashiyaki asked, a hint of hopefulness in his voice. Green pepper, and perhaps a touch of salt, would have amplified his message.

“Look at this,” Beelz said, showing Ledas the account balance. “He’s got a fat stash. Let’s swipe every last woolong.”

Leeds laughed. “That’d be rich. Why not? Screw him. He’s gonna be in prison for years. Doesn’t need that money. I see a planet in our future.”

“Bro, let’s be bad. Let’s drain him.”

“Hell yeah. Couldn’t have happened to a better guy.”

“Wait, what are you doing? We had an agreement,” Akashiyaki said.

“Shut it,” Beelzebub said, punching him in the throat. His knees buckled, and he fell to the sidewalk. There was a disgusting aspect to how his tentacles swayed and sprayed saliva. Several pedestrians glanced at the spectacle, though nobody stopped to gawk. Keep moving, you lot. Nothing to see here.

His voice was raspy. Coughing, he said, “You can’t. Stop. I worked hard for my fortune. Took me years to build up. You can’t have it. We had an agreement.”

“You’re a repetitive guy. Well, how’s this sound? We’re gonna be awful and drain you of everything you own. On top of that, we’re going to turn you in for an extra ₩10,200,000 bonus. Doesn’t that sound like a right proper treat?”

“Sounds great,” Ledas said. “Let’s do it. He has no recourse if we loot him. Can’t go to the Galactic Patrol. He’s outta luck.”

“That’s what I’m saying. He’s mega screwed.”

He felt like a proper hellion. Been decades since he’d acted like this. Bounty hunting was a slick profession. This was his calling. Brought out the best in him. They dragged their quarry back to the restaurant. Akashiyaki sputtered and stuttered; he drank in the man’s terror. We’re making bank on this dude. He’s a lot stupider than he looks. How’d he manage this for so long without getting caught? He’s a complete buffoon.

“I’ll get you for this. Unhand me. How dare you double-cross me? I’ve done nothing wrong.”

“Dude, you aren’t getting away. Save your breath. That’s why you never mess with the Demon Hunters, yo.”

“Ugh, stop it. We are so totally not called that,” Ledas said, face-palming.

“This is a big misunderstanding. I’ve paid for my bounty. You have to believe me. I’m on the up and up. The Galactic Patrol must have forgotten to update my case. It’s a silly error. You can understand why I’m confused. Let me go, and we’ll call it even.”

“That’s enough out of you,” Beelzebub said, snatching a wind-carried, grease-stained fast food bag tumbling down the road and tossing it over his head. That’s a good look for him. Nice and trashy. “Keep quiet, or I’ll start cutting off your tentacles. Don’t make me mad. I’m known as the Fiend Prince for a reason.”

And don’t you forget it.

Back in the restaurant, they regrouped with Ryori and Carawa. For supposedly hating the food, he had eaten his fair share. Being the bigger demon, he chose not to mention it. To say he respected Ledas’ fiancé would be too much. He grated his nerves. There was a non-concrete aspect of his personality he couldn’t stand. Even lingering on the topic was souring his mood.

“We got him. He’s tied up and ready for delivery. Let’s get out of here.”

“Aw, really? The festival’s going strong. I thought we’d be able to take a look around, at least. It sounded like a blast. We’ve come a long way.”

Ledas gave Beelzebub a look. He despised that. Don’t do this. We found our prize. Leaving’s for the best. “We can’t. We have to take him in. Can’t let him get away.”

“Aw, c’mon, man, it’s no big deal. I’ll watch him. He won’t slip away. Promise.”

“We have two bounties in custody that are ready to be cashed in. We can come back later.”

“We’re here already. Can’t we see a few of the attractions before leaving? Besides, the festival could end before we get the chance to return,” Ryori said.

“I’m not a fan of staying. That’s all I’ll say.”

“Well,” Ledas said, his voice deeper than usual, “it’s two votes against one. That’s a shame.”

“You’re so damn funny. What a surprise, you voted to support your boyfriend. Color me shocked.”

“Don’t be a hater. We’ll cash in the bounties. Nothing’s going to happen.”

Impatience flushed in a hot rush of blood through his cheeks. “Whatever you say. Come on then, if you want to experience the festival, let’s go. Daylight’s dwindling.”

Their lackadaisical nature incensed him. Beelzebub could not understand why they were like this. Their lack of efficiency gave him a headache. This shouldn’t be happening. They’re making a mistake. Whatever. Wasn’t his problem. If the octopus got away, the blame would land squarely on Ledas’ shoulders. In a sick, twisted way, he was curious to see that unfold so he could tell them off for being the morons he knew they were.

----

June 26, Age 776

Great Palgam Bocchi Festival, Harbolian

The streets were overrun with partiers, tourists, and entertainers bustling about, jockeying for position. To say it was packed would be an understatement. Vendors lined the roads, selling food, drinks, trinkets, and anything that could fetch a space woolong or ten. The aroma of sizzling meat and spices intermixed with Nil (over half of the crowd seemed to be smoking from their sticks like fleshy chimneys); music rose above the low roar of hundreds of simultaneous conversations. He spotted at least three bands positioned on street corners, sitting comfortably, playing strangely shaped wind instruments he’d never seen before. They don’t sound half bad. And the tip jars are filling up. This was the most crowded place he’d been to outside of the Demon Realm.

He had been wary of staying, but by the second, he was easing into the festival. They were celebrating a big catch, to be fair. They’d caught a most quarrelsome bounty. Good food, and plenty of it, was a deserved reward. He’d caught Akashiyaki himself. Pride lingered in his blood. My first catch. He was a true bounty hunter. He understood the words, felt them, but they didn’t seem real upon reflection. With time, maybe that would change. For now, he didn’t mind chilling with his friends, enjoying the fruits of their labor. Still couldn’t totally relax.

Holding a meat and fruit kebab in either hand, Ledas said, “The special yumaru sauce is super tasty. Have you tried it?”

“Yeah,” Beelzebub said. “Savory and tangy. Not too sweet. I wish we could take a bottle back with us.”

“It’s hella better than that fish we had earlier. I could eat this every day,” Ryori said.

“Yo, let’s check that out,” Ledas said, pointing a kebab at what appeared to be a shack off to the side of the road, beyond a slew of street vendors. “Gas masks are required to enter. Looks dangerous. Wanna see what’s inside?”

“You can read that? What language is it written in?”

“Galactic basic, of course. Every species speaks the common tongue. Otherwise, interspecies communication would be way too annoying. Damn near impossible. Everyone learns galactic basic, even on the most savage, backwater worlds. It’s just how things are. Otherwise, society couldn’t function.”

“Makes sense, I guess.”

“Oh, oh, that’s the dude who can smoke a hundred Nil sticks at once. I heard about him. We have to check him out,” Ryori said.

Cost ₩1500 apiece to enter. They affixed their gas masks, Ledas helping Carawa fasten his. Beelzebub prayed to the giant vagine in the south that they had been properly washed and sanitized. Never know with these things. Gotta assume the best. No need to get anxious without reason. Didn’t bother to buy one for Akashiyaki. He had the bag. That was good enough. If he got sick or developed a lifelong, incurable disease, oh well. Inside the shack was a crocodilian alien with a scaled snout and yellowed teeth. Nil sticks hung from every millimeter of his jaws. There had to be a hundred at least. He twirled a lighter in his hand as he sat there, puffing away. A haze lingered. It was like they were in the clouds (where angels supposedly lived, whom he hated more than when his father had limited his video game time to one hour per day three hundred years ago—those scars had never healed). Surreal. Is this the only thing he does all day?

“You must love space nicotine,” Ryori said. “Are you addicted, or can you stop at any time?”

“Bro, he can stop at any moment, trust me,” Beelzebub said.

He puffed and puffed, looking at them, positioning his arms in various, albeit repetitive, poses as if to make himself look cool while he sucked on more Nil than a bus full of people could tolerate. Didn’t bother responding. Perhaps he couldn’t. After he died, Beelzebub would kill to inspect his blackened lungs. Probably wouldn’t be another like him in the universe ever again. He’s got a year or two left of this at most. It’s sheer madness. There’s no way he can keep this up.

“He doesn’t really do anything, does he? Eh, I’m bored,” Ledas said.

“My gas mask’s pinching my nose. Let’s hightail it outta here,” Beelzebub said.

His eyes burned in the light of day. They stopped by the street vendors for half a dozen additional food samples, give or take. This batch was spicier than he’d expected. Otherwise, the various dishes, of which he had memorized practically nothing in the ways of their natures, being utterly unable to recreate them, achieved excellent flavor profiles. He was impressed. It’s almost like they’ve done this for generations. Several vendors served alcohol, which the Saiyan and human gravitated toward. Typical. Regarding the loosening poison, Beelzebub was altogether nonplussed. He wasn’t straight-edge. Akashiyaki was with them. He wasn’t going to let his guard down. Plus, too much too fast was an overwhelming feeling that he wasn’t ready to pursue. How readily they did alarmed him.

Ledas slipped Akashiyaki two shots under his bag, which he happily slurped up. His eyes met Beelzebub’s. “What? It’ll keep him satiated. It’s a social lubricant.”

You’re the lube expert. “If he gets away, it’s on you.”

“Not gonna happen.”

Wasn’t sure he could trust Ledas. He was a bit of an airhead and more than a tad reckless. He was by far the most powerful person on this planet, no doubt, so in that, he took a measure of comfort. The bullshit that came along with his trollish nature tired him, however.

On the next street, they played a game of mudstick slappy for ₩1200 apiece with a group of variously specied aliens. Ryori landed more pokes than either of them, coming in third place. They required a deep cleaning afterward. Boy, did that hose hit the flesh hard. The water was colder than Aunt Towa’s personality. Every gust of wind made him shiver.

Around the corner, they came across a cleared-out area where a pair of white tents had been erected on the left and the right like a perky pair of boobs. A giant metallic creature with a robotic look sat between them. A line of people had formed before it, holding pails filled with bubbling, steaming magma or lava or something similar. He couldn’t quite tell. As they moved forward, they handed it the pail, from which it drank, casting the empty container away like a used whore out of the car at 2 a.m.

“What are those tents for?” Ryori asked.

“It’s the burn unit and the children’s burn unit,” Ledas said. “I guess this spectacle’s on the more dangerous side. Shiyet. The reward outweighs the risk. Dunno how, but by Kuriza’s frozen nips is that a sight to behold.”

Beelzebub felt a shred of arrogance, which he effortlessly shed, as he passed judgment upon the barbaric aliens. “Why would anyone pay to feed that creature? Plus, look at how long the lines are. Practically everyone’s getting burnt. You’d think, at least, parents would try to protect their kids. I don’t get it.”

“The sheep love to play follow the leader,” Ryori said. “Don’t condemn them. That’s merely their nature. They can’t help themselves. Time isn’t a precious commodity when you don’t have a thought in your head.”

“Condescending, man. You think you’re better?”

“Shut up, you know I’m right.”

Beelzebub rolled his eyes. “Regardless, I don’t care. I’m not paying to get burned. We don’t need to waste another moment here.”

“Agreed,” Ledas said, pushing the bounty through the crowded streets.

Eyes were on them. Scores of people stood and stared, silently judging. He wished he could flash their official bounty hunting license to scare them off, but they hadn’t settled on a name, so he hadn’t been able to complete the application. There was a certain level of embarrassment that came with that. The chipping away of his pride was intolerable as it was inexorable. He recalled the bounty hunters he’d fought on Chelbalos. As awful as they had been, surely they possessed official licenses. That scum as low as they were more legitimate irked Beelzebub, needled him in the brain. They would have to deal with that after handing over Akashiyaki and the furry alien currently stowed in their ship.

Garish, booming music preceded a line of dancers at the next intersection. Those in the procession wore masks or face paint. Shirtless and bottomless, naked as the new day, their body paint striped, vividly divergent in colors, the aliens slithered down the road, dancing to an ear-piercing beat. More creativity than he cared to appreciate had gone into this. How his fingernails tapped against his forearm. It was the women dancing in the street that his eyes were drawn to. I don’t think Ledas or Ryori have the same interest. They were of many species. Some had nice racks. Oh, how they jiggled and swung as the dancers showed off their skill. He stole more than a few peeks. A large crowd had formed. He found himself clapping and whooping with them as the dancers passed by, strutting their stuff, which was much appreciated in this festive time. He had half a mind to sneak off into an alley and release his frustration.

“C’mon, I’m bored. I wanna keep going,” Ryori whined.

“Wait. Just a little more, a little longer.”

“What’s the big deal? They’re only dancers.”

Of course he’d say that. “Keep your tongue behind your mouth when it comes to these matters. It’s no surprise you cannot appreciate the beauty of the female form. These women are smoking hot. They deserve to be admired.”

Ledas guffawed. “Too right you are. He’s a big-time hater. Don’t be, bro. The girls are showing off for our benefit. Appreciate it.”

“Your benefit. I’d rather not, thanks. It’s a grotesque display as far as I’m concerned.”

It took a while for them to clear out, and when they had gone by, he was able to admire their asses. Supple alien butts. Man, this is the good part of bounty hunting. I wanna hit that so bad. He clapped and tried to keep his thoughts pure enough that he wouldn’t have to sit down. The embarrassment would be too much to handle in this packed place. His exasperation with Ryori held him at bay.

“Whatever,” Beelzebub said, “onto the next street.”

“Don’t be hasty. Look, I wanna check that guy out,” Ledas said, pointing to what appeared to be an outhouse with a neon green sign Beelzebub couldn’t read. Phrasing, yo. Poking him and giving him a look caused Ledas to say, “Oh, it reads ‘Ulcerin the Wise: Get Your Fortune Read Today: ₩7500 per customer’. Aw, whaddya say? Sounds intriguing. Let’s go see.”

“Fortunetelling’s fake,” Beelzebub said in a tone sharp as obsidian.

“I know, I just wanna hear what crap he comes up with.”

“I’m down for that. Could be hilarious,” Ryori said.

Seeing he was outvoted again (shocker), Beelzebub bit his lip and swallowed his pride, or at least that’s what he made them believe. “Fine. But afterward, let’s get out of here. We’ve spent more than enough time on this dustball.”

“Agreed.”

There was a short line to the seer’s outhouse. Thankfully, it moved along at a decent-enough pace that he couldn’t complain. The kitsch design of the humble palace, painted in browns, beiges, and noncommittal greys, let him know what to expect. As long as they get their kicks, eh? Money well spent. Yeah right. I’m sure this will be an experience we’ll treasure for years to come. More like I won’t remember we did this in a week.

Before their turn, Ledas took them aside, his face serious, not playing games. Rarely have I seen him like this. He yanked on Akashiyaki’s energy chain, dragging him over. An atypical show of force, but fair play. He’d have done no less. Ryori was petting Carawa fiercely, imparting love scratches with his fingernails across his head. “Don’t reveal anything about yourselves, alright? Make him work for every prediction. Don’t tell him he’s wrong when he inevitably says something stupid. I gotta see how deep he goes. Take this as a study. The dude’s a bullshit artist.”

The five-pack entered the cramped room. The cloying scent of nearly three dozen, or so it felt, mixed spices hung so heavy in the room, he could physically see the vapor lines. The air stung from his nostrils down to his esophagus. He swallowed, trying not to cough. Before them sat a yellow-skinned alien with droopy skin and a wrinkly, rotund frame. His indigo eyes shone bright through the haze. The alien wore skimpy clothing that barely covered his hulking mass. Jewels of gold, silver, sapphire, ruby, emerald, and probably artificial diamond were draped across his body, as if he considered himself a living statue needing religious adornment to be taken seriously. He was like a pancake adorned with powdered sugar. How does he get around without everything falling off like an avalanche of snow?

“Hello there,” said Ledas. He handed the man ₩22,500 in cash. Ulcerin snatched the money like an Inovian pit viper (he’d seen the shows—the metaphor held), tucking the wad in a sweaty, bulbous fold. “We’d like three readings, please.”

“Ah yes, my young friends, welcome to Ulcerin’s abode. I am a prophet, a holy man, a seer beyond the past, present, and future. I can read your fates, your futures, and your potentials from the lines on your hands. Biology presents one’s prospects as clear as day if you know where to look. Trust me, I’ve looked. My words are sacred, my statements sacrosanct. You see, I was born a mutant of my species. Most of my unborn twin absorbed into my essence before birth. I am twice the man you thought I’d be. A vestigial outcrop of his head remains, see?” he said, pulling back his cloth shirt to reveal what looked like half a face, skull-like and listless, protruding from his stomach, moving independently of the fat man’s shallow breaths.

Ryori flinched, covering his mouth with a hand. Beelzebub mimicked his action, though he did so to prevent himself from openly laughing. Promise. The second head’s eyes followed them, tracking from one person to the next. Its lips trembled, opening and closing like a fish out of water. The smoke made his eyes sting, his throat itch. He desperately needed water. He would be glad to be rid of this place. Enough already. Get to it.

“Congratulations,” Ledas said awkwardly. He was horrible in these scenarios.

“With proper payment, which you have provided, I can offer my gift of foresight. Who will go first?”

Ryori stepped up. His disbelief gives him confidence. Watch him flounder. At least, that’s how it was for Beelzebub. He couldn’t empathize with another mode of thinking. Too tired for that, or perhaps he lacked the patience for subtlety. “Alright, I’m game.” Close enough. “Shine the microscope on me. Try to figure me out.”

“Give me your hand, young man.”

Ulcerin took Ryori’s hand in his, running a finger down his palm, his eyes closed, whispering to himself. That was mad creepy. The torso head watched Beelzebub, its gaze fluttering in and out of focus. Why me? He felt as if he were about to be deep-fried in chocolate sauce.

“This isn’t going to hurt, is it?”

“Not in the slightest. Quiet. Do not speak unless spoken to. Ah, these hands tell the tale. They sing. Yes, I see. Should your life unfold reasonably, you will become a renowned fashion and adult content photographer. You have an eye for the female form, I can tell, and an unquenchable thirst. Use your motivation to make a name for yourself. But, should your discipline falter, you will become nothing more than a construction worker or mass-production sculptor. Yes, your life track is clear. Thank you for your service. Name?”

“Ryori.”

“Ryori, yes. I remember. Didn’t ask for it. I see you achieving great things, boy.”

He smirked, returning to the group, locking eyes with Ledas. They shared a quiet moment at his expense. He could only guess as to what they found bemusing. Photographing women. Yeah right. He’s shown his true colors. Absolute nonsense. This whole experience is. Why are we here?

Ulcerin cleared his throat. “Next, please. The line’s long, the daylight scant. Keep it moving.”

Ledas stepped up, giving up his left hand for the blubbery, jewelry-adorned man to finger. That hand had seen untold horrifically sticky circumstances. Many a splatterings that didn’t need detailing. Beelz shuddered, trying to prevent his idle mind from running scenarios. “My name’s Ledas, sir.”

“Ah, Ledas, I see. Yes, I see.” He closed his eyes, continuing to run his finger around his palm. “A most interesting candidate. Should you continue in your lazy ways, there appears to be nothing more for you beyond bartending. That role will lead you to daily dopamine hits, whoring, as we’d expect, and more than your fair share of mingling with customers. I’d prefer you more as a glory hole operator than a bartender, even if the two go hand-in-hand.”

“Sir, I have terrible social anxiety. I don’t think I could manage to work in a bar. The thought of being around loads of people, serving them, and feeling the overwhelming pressure makes me sick to my stomach. I couldn’t do it. That’s not me. I can’t.”

“On the job, you will act professionally, my boy. Don’t disappoint. I’ve seen it in you. If you reach your full potential, you could become a galaxy-renowned space opera singer. Wouldn’t be unheard of. Your lungs are fresh, tinged sweet. Your voice is rich. You’d make a fine singer. Indulge in your passions, Ledas. Become all that you were meant to be.”

Ledas snatched back his hand, clapping in a slow, sarcastic manner. What a troll. “Beautifully stated. I’ll seek to honor your trust in me, good sir. I’ve always fancied becoming a famous singer. I’m shocked you knew that was my dream. I’ll try my best.”

“Next,” the prophet wheezed, his jowls fluttering as he burped and caressed his torso head.

“Me. Prince Beelzebub,” he said. He felt his tail going a bit madder than he had intended to make public. Calm down. Nothing to worry about. This guy’s as fraudulent as they get. Treat this like a bad Demontube video. In truth, he wasn’t nervous. His energy was more negative. The Power of Darkness was flowing through him. He was growing anxious in anticipation. Having to stand still sucked.

“Ah, come here, laddie. Let me look into your future,” he said, taking Beelz’s hand in his own. The fat, grubby finger going down his palm lines tickled. He bit the corner of his lip. A certain detestable fog had descended upon the haze. To react would’ve been a royal mistake. “There it is. I see it clearly. Yes. Very interesting. Curious. Most curious. Should you lack proper motivation, I see you falling into a dastardly, dirty profession in the streets, selling your body for your next hit. Addiction hangs like an anchor around your neck. Should you reject that prerogative, and I pray you do, my young friend, I can see you as a middle manager at a fast-food restaurant. Perhaps a Space Sonikku. You could make something of yourself so long as you lay off the juice.”

“I don’t juice.”

“Not yet.”

His frown spread naturally. Don’t let him get to you. “Never.”

“We’ll see about that. Temptation is never far away.”

“Thanks,” he said, his voice deep and monotone. Couldn’t have attempted it any worse. “You’ve seen into our hearts, noble prophet. We’re blessed to be in your presence. This was a valuable experience, one we shall cherish for the rest of our lives.”

The words hung sardonically on his lips as they exited, returning to the fresh air outside. His lungs had never thanked him more. The sad group of suckers waiting in line had no clue. No point telling them. They wouldn’t believe me. Let them waste their money. They walked off, Ledas dragging Akashiyaki by his ki leash. Their laughter flowed freely. How the cephalopod’s knees buckled (that he had knees was unto itself an evolutionary marvel).

“Oh man, that guy was a total fraud. An epic bullshiter, to be fair.”

“Middle manager at a fast food joint? Psh, that’s a load of crap. I’m a prince. I’m going to be King of the Demon Realm once the official ceremony’s held. He didn’t know who the hell I was even after I told him. And what did he say about you, Ledas? An opera singer? That’s absolutely absurd. Like, the most random thing ever. I’ve never heard you sing before.”

“He sings sometimes after we do it, or in the shower. Not that often.”

“I have a great voice. At least, that’s what the echoes tell me,” Ledas said, his tone more earnest than usual. The troll has pride.

“It’s fine, yeah. You’re alright. Fairly decent. I mean, becoming a professional’s a whole nother level. And opera? That’s wild. Do you even know what that is?”

“Nope.”

“That’s for the best, trust me. It’s an awful genre.”

“And what about you?” Beelzebub asked Ryori. “He said you’d be best suited for taking racy photographs of women. Let’s get real—that’s about as far from who you are as is possible. That’s a galaxy-sized miss. He couldn’t have been more wrong.”

“He wasn’t wrong about me being good with my hands. He just misapplied my focus.”

“You’d think a wise guy like him would’ve caught on that you’re a fa—”

Something hit him hard in the back of the head. His breath exploded out, balls of light popping and shining around his vision. He careened into a fruit stand, scattering untold bushels of product this way and that. The vendor fell on his ass, his face agape in horror. His neck ached. Beelzebub rose to his feet, scowling, wiping pulp from his forehead and stinging citrusy juice from the corners of his eyes.

The shrimp and his horned accomplice landed, their arms crossed, their eyes leveling furious judgment upon Beelz. Haughtiness came to them easily. People fled, screaming, their hands in the air, running this way and that. Pandemonium had descended upon the festival. In a way, he was soothed. His focus sharpened. Music to my ears. Let’s go.

“Now you’ve gone and done it. I told you not to continue tracking him, kid. Showed you mercy. You’re a new bounty hunter. Don’t understand the way of the universe. Okay, whatever. No hard feelings. Took your humbling like a champ. Best way to learn your place. Then what do you go and do? Spit on my kindness, go behind my back, and hunt down the target. You’ve made a costly mistake. We’re not in the business of giving second chances.”

“You don’t own Akashiyaki. You never had any claim to him. Whoever catches him wins. That’s what bounty hunting’s about, idiot.”

Cavatel clicked his mandibles. “Spoken like the amateur you are. I warned you what would happen if you crossed us again.”

That’s right. I’ve been waiting for this. “Stop talking and fight. I’ve grown bored of your stupid faces. They’d look a lot better covered in blood.”

“If you wish to hasten your demise, I won’t stop you. Live as a fool, die as a fool.”

“You don’t stand a chance against me.”

“I seem to recall beating you to a bloody pulp last night. Let’s reprise our roles from that glorious fight.”

“You were lucky. Caught me off guard. Didn’t hurt me. I don’t have any bruises. Your punches left no lasting impact. If that’s the best you can do, you’re in for a world of hurt.”

“Your arrogance is unbecoming. I’ll knock that smile off your face. You could do with fewer teeth.”

Cavatel’s claws came at him. He blocked, holding his ground, kneeing him in the stomach. Shoving him back, the alien tried a spinning backfist, which Beelzebub easily ducked underneath. He elbowed him in the chest. Not as fast as before. He’s about to get wrecked. If he didn’t have that stupid paralysis ability, I’d have smoked him already.

“Careful now. You’re getting ahead of yourself.”

The shrimp took him by the wrist, pulled him closer, and headbutted him away. His vision popped and wavered. Twirling stars were again before his eyes, shining their lights to completion. Calm down. Don’t underestimate him. He was taking needless damage. Before he could catch his breath, Cavatel had grabbed him by the tail, swinging him over his head like a lasso, and threw him into an abandoned food stand. Beelzebub felt the tickle of splinters spear his forearm. Wincing, he brushed broken pieces of wood aside, getting to his feet. His breathing had quickened; his patience was waning. Do it already. What are you waiting for? I’m vulnerable. Now’s your chance.

Instead, he threw himself at Beelzebub. He palmed the punches aside at first, though it wasn’t long before Cavatel broke through, landing a series of hard blows. It became a genuine struggle to keep up. He was tempted to dip into the well. Saccottine punched the air and applauded. Ledas and Ryori were transfixed.

“Don’t step in,” he warned the Saiyan. “I’ve got it covered.”

“Suit yourself. You better not lose.”

“Never.”

What he did in this life would echo through eternity. He thinks he’s fighting a kid. I’ll show him what the Prince of Darkness can do. Shouting, Beelz fought back at a ferocious pace, using spinning elbows, tail slaps, and high kicks to aid his punches. The shrimp’s assault came to a crashing halt as he was forced to hold him back. He wished he could read him, could understand what his mindset was. Was he a weak man with a cheap ability, or was he a veteran warrior feigning vulnerability, drawing him in for the kill?

“Come on, these guys are small fries,” Ledas whined. “If you don’t hurry up, I’ll blast ‘em.”

“Don’t make me laugh,” Saccottine said. “This isn’t about you. Stay out of it.”

“You attacked our crew. That’s my business. Your mistake will prove fatal one way or another.”

“Stand down,” Beelzebub said. “I can handle them. I have everything under control.”

“You’re delusional. Even now, you’re losing ground. You aren’t getting out of this one,” Cavatel said.

Go on, do it. You know you want to. He threw a roundhouse claw, which Beelzebub jumped away from. Child’s play. He’s faster than that. The disrespect. He thinks he’s toying with his prey. I’ll show him. Cavatel was on his heels, reaching for his throat. He slapped him away, leveling a spinning back tail whip as punishment. That got him good. He was right proper pissed.

“You don’t know who you’re up against. It’s hopeless. Your life, and your companions’ lives, are forfeit. Enough playing around. I’ve been in this business longer than you’ve been alive, seen bounty hunters like you try to make a name for themselves more times than I can count. Their hubris, like yours, preceded their skill. You’ll be in the dirt soon. In your next life, reflect upon your arrogance. It didn’t have to end this way.”

“You’re a first-class yapper. I don’t care what you have to say. Stop stalling and fight me, coward.”

“Don’t ask for that which you cannot handle. I’ll bring the storm.”

Oof. Cringe alert. His claw shot out, piercing through the air, and that Paralyzing Resonance of his cascaded in its bitingly frigid grip over his body. Beelzebub held firm, locked in the air, clenching his jaw, as the awful feeling rippled through him. Cavatel was laughing, his companion joining in. Saccottine was a right proper c*nt. He’d get his soon enough. Their guards were down. Righteous fury warmed his veins. He was certain his eyes were sparkling with red malice. Boy, I’m bad.

All the anger, all the exasperation, all the impatience came out like a torrent of rushing water. The skies darkened. His surging aura had become a deeper shade of red. His skin grew warm as his energy broke through. Cavatel’s paralysis could dominate him no longer. The Power of Darkness was upon him. This was his chance to show everyone why he would soon rule the Demon Realm. The bounty hunters should’ve been shaking in their boots. They have no idea.

Shattering through the paralysis, he stretched his arms out, loosening his shoulders. His sudden uncoupling sent a ripple through the air, causing Cavatel to flip over and land on his back. It wasn’t over. Don’t let up. Don’t relax. End them. They aren’t anything compared to the King of the Demon Realm.

Cavatel’s startled look as Beelz sliced him across the face with his fingernails, etching his Darkness Scratch into his flesh in an eternal imprint, was forever seared into his mind. A moment later, before blood could pool, the open wounds exploded with dark pink energy, and he was reduced to naught but a meaty pile of guts and bones. Carrion and bugs would rid the world of his essence. Can’t come fast enough.

Outraged, Saccottine threw himself at Beelzebub. He was spitting mad. A spinning back-heel pushed him away. He thought he had time to recover. Stupid man. I’m surprised you made it this far. You’re weaker than a low-level bounty. A claw strike through the chest punctured his lung, silencing him. Gurgling bright purple blood bubbling around his lips, he fell to his knees, trying to suck in air, failing, and collapsed, never to rise again.

He sighed, letting go of the Power of Darkness. Immeasurable strain was lifted from his shoulders. Midday returned to the world. He could see clearly again.

Ledas was smiling ear to ear. “Damn, dude, that was awesome. What technique was that?”

“The Power of Darkness is an ancient ability of my royal family. My father could do it too. He taught me how to gather the energy a long time ago. It makes us way stronger, provided we’ve properly powered up with moonlight. Those guys made a huge mistake letting me live after our last encounter. I learned how to overcome that shrimp’s ability. He had no counter. Dude was weak without his crutch. And he called me arrogant. Shutting him up for good was sweet.”

“I was utterly enthralled. Great fight.”

“Yeah, that was totes enthralling,” Ryori chimed in.

“I’m bad, alright. Badass.” Beelzebub grinned, waiting for their adoration. They offered him nothing. After all I did for them. Curses. His gaze remained upon Ledas. With icy realization, his grin evaporated. A cold sweat descended down his spine. “What the—where’s Akashiyaki?”

“Chill, he’s right here,” Ledas said, tugging on the energy bindings, which lay coiled on the ground, not a captured mollusk in sight. He gasped. “Oh shit, he’s gone. He must’ve broken free. I didn’t notice. Crap, where’d he go?”

“You were distracted watching Beelz fight,” Ryori pointed out. “That had to be when he got away.”

Ledas was beside himself. “No, I couldn’t have. He was just here. He was—”

A roar from overhead confirmed their fears.

“Dumbass, look at him go. He’s gotten away again. Damn it,” Beelzebub pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to calm down. Wasn’t exactly working. The Power of Darkness hadn’t completely dissipated. He had half a mind to claw-strike Leeds.

The octopussy’s ship disappeared into the verdant sky, encased in a bubble of fire as it fled Harbolian’s atmosphere. Ledas threw the capsule from his pocket, and they rushed up the ramp. Typical Ledas. Should’ve expected this. Even Carawa was scampering inside. Beelzebub made haste for the central console. Theodosius appeared before him as if on cue.

“Tail that ship leaving the planet. Make sure we don’t lose him. He’s a high-value target.”

“As you command, sir. Following the vessel,” Theo said. “Strap in. Mind the bump.”

They lifted off, the inertia at first noticeable before fading away. Then the windows went dark, the stars streaking as they gained speed upon entering the void of space. I’ll get him for this, he thought, realizing that he hadn’t specified Ledas or Akashiyaki in the midst of his rage. He wouldn’t be slighted. This wasn’t the end. Not by a long shot.

Akashiyaki’s days were numbered, and oh, how sweet it would feel to finally be rid of him.

4. The Bitter Truth

Notes

Characters

Spoilers

Main characters Secondary characters Tertiary characters Main characters Cast Ep. 1 2 3 4 Beelzebub 4 ✔ ✔ ✔ ✔ Ryori 4 ✔ ✔ ✔ ✔ Ledas 4 ✔ ✔ ✔ ✔ Secondary characters Cast Ep. 1 2 3 4 Carawa 4 ✔ ✔ ✔ ✔ Akashiyaki 3 ✔ ✘ ✔ ✔ Theodosius 3 ✔ ✔ ✔ ✘ Cavatel 2 ✘ ✔ ✔ ✘ Saccottine 2 ✘ ✔ ✔ ✘ Shebal Kaum 2 ✘ ✔ ✘ ✔ Tertiary characters Cast Ep. 1 2 3 4 Salty Salpico patrons 1 ✔ ✘ ✘ ✘ Salty Salpico employees 1 ✔ ✘ ✘ ✘ Halcuria space port attendant 1 ✘ ✔ ✘ ✘ Halcuria residents and visitors 1 ✘ ✔ ✘ ✘ Flying Aces floor manager 1 ✘ ✔ ✘ ✘ Flying Aces security staff 1 ✘ ✔ ✘ ✘ Peep booth enthusiasts 1 ✘ ✔ ✘ ✘ Torgbos residents and visitors 1 ✘ ✔ ✘ ✘ Naduno 1 ✘ ✔ ✘ ✘ Urimis 1 ✘ ✔ ✘ ✘ Distinguished gentleman 1 ✘ ✔ ✘ ✘ Distinguished gentleman's girlfriend 1 ✘ ✔ ✘ ✘ Harbolian natives and travelers 1 ✘ ✘ ✔ ✘ Mollusk Munching Madness staff 1 ✘ ✘ ✔ ✘ Kebab-robbed woman 1 ✘ ✘ ✔ ✘ Crocodilian alien 1 ✘ ✘ ✔ ✘ Unnamed Metalman 1 ✘ ✘ ✔ ✘ Great Palgram Bocchi dancers 1 ✘ ✘ ✔ ✘ Ulcerin 1 ✘ ✘ ✔ ✘

Timeline placement

Chasers Can't Be Choosers begins on June 25, Age 776 and ends on July 2, Age 776.

Trivia

• This story was originally going to be a one-shot in my 17-story collection, Life Is Not Just an Interval Between Kung Fu Matches. It grew way too long to remain a one-shot, however, necessitating it to not only become a standalone, but expand into four chapters.
• I came up with this story on 3/30/23. I began writing it on 3/28/25, almost two years later.
• Originally, this story was just going to feature Ledas, Beelzebub, and Theodosius. I added Carawa and Ryori as I prepared to write it in early 2025 after deciding that Ryori would serve as support staff for the Starchasers (as a masseuse and cook).
• Ryori, Theo, and Carawa have officially joined the Starchasers as of this story, making them the third, fourth, and fifth members of the team, respectively.
• I came up with original plot for this story, which was somewhat expanded upon later on, while I was bored at work during a slow day on 1/5/25.
• Lily-Livered Lugabalos is likely the first galactic bounty the Starchasers captured.
• Beelzebub has 5 pov scenes; Ledas has 3 (including the deleted scene); Ryori has 2.
  • Ryori is the only character to not have multiple povs in any chapter. Ledas has two pov sections in chapter 2, while Beelzebub has two pov sections in chapter 3.
  • Beelzebub is the only pov character in chapter 3. Every other chapter has multiple pov characters.
  • Beelzebub has the first pov section in all four chapters.