A figure dressed in a white work shirt, slacks and a ěHonk
if you can read English" tie, spelt in said language, walked
along the street. A briefcase with a broken lock in hand, he
trotted up to a building and tried the door. He brightened as it
opened.

     So far it had been a really good day. He had gotten five
honks, his briefcase hadnít snapped open spilling his lunch onto
the sidewalk, and apparently this might be the right place after
only 17 tries. Cheerfully the man with the spiked hair-doo took
the elevator and walked down a hallway, all the time whistling
the theme to "2001". He stopped suddenly and turned to his
companion.

     "What? You're tired of that song? Well...all right. How
about "Walla Walla"?"

     He restarted whistling as he knocked on the door with the
words "Magical Girl Hunters" on it.

               *              *              *
     It's not nice knowing a friend and partner has been stuck in
a hospital due to some backwash effect from a possibly
hell-spawned artifact you've been worried about.

     I looked at Itami lying comatose. Couldn't he have at least
said "ow" before he blacked out?

     Let me back up a bit.

     The whole cursed thing began as a typical
kill-off-another-saccharine-sweet-toddler day. Our client's agent
was nondescript. In fact so nondescript that after thinking about
it, you had to realize he must have put in tremendous amounts of
effort to blend in so well. The agent drew up a chair as I tried
to give off an air of sympathy and competence.

     "Gentlemen," he began, pushing his rimmed glasses up his
face. "My employer has a rather nasty problem he wishes fixed.
Specifically this citizen-" he slid across a picture. "-needs to
be...forcefully corrected about harassing some of his employees."

     I took a gander. Well-this one was at least 12, had blue
hair, teal eyes and a ruffled fuku with indigo ribbons and jewels
liberally splattered all over. Blech. Color co-ordination is not
a good sign. Usually that means a team. The loners don't really
need to bother with it and dress in garish outfits instead of
matching ones. I asked about it and the guy claimed that so far,
only she had been sighted. Well maybe this would be good-maybe
we'd cut off a team before it started.

     "She is known as "Acryon, Channeler of Light" and has been
dispelling several demons and spirits around the city. Normally,
this would not be a problem," he adjusted his glasses again. "But
her attacks are psychic based and tend to take out any form of
non-benevolent spirits nearby. She happens to work in the area
where my employer has "agents" situated."

     I nodded. "Of course. Your boss must be working overtime to
make up for all the, ah, "staff cuts" this could cause." The man
winced. Good-I'd found a sore spot. Maybe I could milk it.

     "You've seen into the heart of our urgency." He muttered. "I
myself have had to take double shifts-but getting back to matters
at hand, we're aware that some agencies in your past have been
somewhat...reluctant to pay for services rendered. Therefore, so
as not to impede your performance over worrying about financial
manners..." he held out a check.

This time I *liked* my client. A lot. Money up front is always
such a lovely thing. Of course, this suggested that they either
had total and complete faith in us, the check was bad
(doubtful-we could cash it and find that out *before* we went
looking so that would be dumb) or they were powerful enough not
to worry about retribution should we try to skip out. The last
one vaguely worried me. But cash is cash.

     "We'd be delighted to start!" I said. "Won't we Itami?"

     Itami grunted.

               *              *              *

     We parked a few blocks away from a supposedly "haunted"
house that we had spotted a girl pacing around. Of course, she
could just be morbidly interested in it. Or maybe she had been
dared by her schoolmates to go inside and was working up her
courage. Of course. This could just be a coincidence. And maybe
that indigo and green parrot fluttering in the tree next to it
was a native bird to Japan.

     I pretended to rummage through an inner coat pocket while
surreptitiously checking my weapons. The weight of my .45 resting
comfortably, a few small grenades in various niches and as a last
resort a shiny new knife. Remember kids-never rely solely on
automatic weapons. Why? One word-jamming. Still, they have some
very, very good points. Mainly, you can be away from your target
when it dies. I idly wondered how many skirt-toting girls would
have been more successful had they learned to use them and
shuddered slightly. Aika with a gun was scary enough, and she was
only a _pseudo_-magical girl.

     "Well." I said to Itami. "Shall we?"

     He nodded. I took my cue and walked up to the girl who was
peering through the fence. I leaned on it and tried to start up a
conversation while Itami casually sauntered by, picking his way
slowly behind her.

     "Nice day, huh?" I said brightly.

     She looked at me and said "It's not safe to lean on there.
There's-" she paused and tries to imply urgency. "THINGS in
there. Bad things."

     "Oh?" I said, giving her my best harmless look. "Do you
really believe all those stories about ghosts and spirits?"

     "Maybe." She sniffed, turning back to the fence. "You should
be careful." This time her tone had turned self-important. "This
is no place for the unaware. You should move on."

     Something in the words started to set my teeth on edge. If
there's one kind of kid I can't stand, snotty condescending ones
who talk to adults as if they're brain dead win the prize.

     "Okay...this is a GOOD thing. You WANT her to believe you're
a harmless idiot." I though.

     "And I suppose you think the goblins will come and take you
away." I said, still grinning.

     The girl looked down her nose at me (as much as that's
possible at 3 foot something) and said, "They are much worse than
goblins."

     "You have a big imagination."  

     "You have too little."

     I choked back a slightly risquČ reply and said "Whatever you
say." Damn, I expected an acting award when this was over.

     Itami was in position. Making sure not to make eye contact I
started in loudly on a "Shouldn't you be in school" lecture that
was our signal to get started.

You see, the plan was to lull the girl into a false sense of
non-threatening annoyance (courtesy of me) and have Itami attract
her attention with that sword of his. Briefly though-apparently
the thing was like an air raid siren to any psychic senshi
around. We figured a few seconds was enough. Intent on destroying
the evil artifact she'd never notice an attack from the
Condescending Grown-Up behind her. And hell, who could blame her?
The thing gave ME the creeps.

     Itami pulled the sword. I felt a blast of frigid air and a
sense of malevolence practically ooze out. Immediately the parrot
gave off a God-awful screech that ruptured the ears of dogs
within 5 blocks and the girl turned around, tight-lipped.

     "Spirits-hear my call...sense my plight...give me powers of
the Channeler of Light!"

     I rolled my eyes. That was almost as bad as the "happy"
song.

     Spinning around and doing her transformation, I pretended to
gawk in awe at the "pretty soldier". I swear, I actually heard
cheery pop-music in the background-reminded me why I didn't like
to get too close to them. Itami had sheathed the sword but to my
dismay, held onto it. He looked at me and smiled over the
whirling figure. Then with a sick feeling I saw his hand creep up
to the handle. Oh shit. He was going to try to kill her with the
sword. It'd be out too long! We didn't NEED all the PSI girls of
all the teams in the city after us.

     Almost simultaneously two things happened. One, the parrot
had swooped down launching itself at Itami's head and two, the
girl finished transforming. The former Itami took care of with
his sword. The latter, to my huge surprise, grabbed the front of
my jacket and snapped "Don't worry-you may have been stupid
enough to stay but I'll try to protect you anyhow, you dull
fool."

     Now that was enough. I had tried to be nice to the kid. Sure
I was trying to manipulate her when I did it but at least the
effort was there.

     Slowly so as not to get her to look up I reached for my
knife. See? What did I tell you? Knives can be safer weapons when
your target is too close to shoot for comfort. Did you ever play
_Doom_ or _Quake_ and shoot right against a wall? Senshi are kind
of like that.

     She closed her eyes and started whispering in a long-dead
language. If I had thought what happened with Itami's sword was
bad this was worse-her attack build up made the street seem to be
wobble and fill the place with a bright blue-ish light.

     All this had happened in the time Itami had taken to slice
up Mr. Ex-Familiar. He still had his sword out when the girl
started chanting. Realizing there was no TIME for a sneak attack
I reached, grabbed the knife and plunged it in. I hoped that
under all the frills and bows I hit her neck. I was probably
screwed if it wasn't. The knife, a thin almost ice pick like one,
slid home.

     Acryon gave out a screech that put the late parrot's to
shame and looked up, glared at me and said "bastard" through her
tears. The knife hit a bone and lodged there.

     I gave her my best "I'm a dick and I love it" smile and said
"We ARE worse than goblins, aren't we?"

     She screamed out what sounded like a command and pointed her
finger at Itami who STILL hadn't sheathed the sword, the idiot. I
tried to twist the knife to cause some neck damage but it was
caught fast. Stepping back from the gurgling "Channeler or Light"
who had started to glow, I whipped out my pistol from a safe
distance and shot.

     A gore-splattered second later her head seemed to explode
from the inside, like she'd swallowed dynamite. Well it's the
best description I can give to someone who wasn't there. One of
these days I'm going to get me a video camera.

     But something was messed up. As her body slumped down it
left a glow in the air after it. I glanced towards my partner who
STILL had the thing out.

     "Hey-Itami! Put the sword away!"

     He didn't move. Itami stared at the glow, not even seeming
to breathe. Swearing, I moved towards him at the same time the
light flashed forwards. It reached him first and Itami did
something I'd never EVER expected. He screamed. Or at first I
THOUGHT he did. A second later I realized it was the fucking
*sword* making that sound.

     Not really thinking, except about psychic senshi and hordes
of teams showing up and extreme, intense pain, I grabbed his hand
and shoved the sword back into the sheath. Itami dropped like a
puppet with cut strings and the light disappeared. Kneeling down
and trying to pick him up I noticed a few standard horrified
witnesses around. Carrying his body to the car a few blocks
really quickly isn't something I want to relate so I won't.

     I pushed his body into the front seat, buckled it up and
tried to make it look like he was sleeping. Maybe it'd work
better if his head wasn't lolling at that unnatural angle.

     I stopped worrying about trivial things like that and went
to the hospital.

               *              *              *
     
     
"I'm sorry sir but your friend...well..."
     
I had visited the next morning and all was not well. The doctor
shifted uneasily. What he was about to say clashing with,
apparently, every instinct he learned in med school and a basic
honesty he couldn't squelch.
     
"You might want to bring in a...a..." he coughed. "Spiritualist."
     
"What? You really think...there's something MAGICAL wrong with
him?" I asked.
     
The doctor winced at the word "magic" and said hastily "No no! Of
course not! But ah, to be truthful..."
     
"You don't know why he's in a coma?"
     
"It's not just that." He fiddled with a chart. "His possessions
are-they're actually a bit...it's odd but... that SWORD of his.
It always seems to find its way back to his room no matter WHERE
we put it! And it's so cold...of course I really wouldn't
recommend moving him from the hospital but perhaps asking a
priest to come in...just in case..."
     
I sighed. Good thing we had gotten cash up front. This was going
to cost me.

               *              *              *

     I stepped out.
     "Damn damn damn."
     Great way to start a day. Let's swear at the universe and
see if life gets better.
     I was upset this time. It's not every day a magical sword
apparently sucks the soul out of your partner.
     Making my meandering way back to our work quarters I
pondered a troubling question about life: How was I going to
finish up jobs with Itami out of action? It wasn't as if I were
totally helpless by myself but in this job really need two. Aika
came to mind but she wasn't a sure bet. Her schedule of Real Life
interfered too much to depend on her for backup all the time. And
Sailor H-heck, even FINDING her would be a problem let alone ask
her for constant help. With her love Itami out of action she
might not be inclined to join at all. In fact in a battle, I
didn't know if she'd actually help or stand quietly aside a few
moments to let the senshi beat the filling out of me and THEN
kill them off. Yeah, that last idea was most likely.

     I pondered it for an hour. I used up 300 darts in less that
time. I paced back and forth for a few moments mainly for
dramatic effect. But every time I came back to the same though.

     I was going to have to advertise.

               *              *              *

     No, obviously I didn't take out an ad in the local
newspaper. "Wanted-experienced assassin willing to take a
temporary fill in job killing magical girls. Pay-reasonable." But
I DID tell the Finn. Pretty soon out beloved arms dealer said he
had several "interesting" prospects lined up and said he'd send
them over. I tidied up a bit, threw the burnt popcorn out of the
microwave and sat down in my chair. Only a few minutes later the
first guy walked in. 

     Well. You know how some people who want to look gothic
spread tons of pasty make-up and back eyeliner and navy lipstick
over their faces? And how most of the time it doesn't make them
look mysterious it makes them look as if their faces are going to
fall off because of the weight of the gunk? This guy looked how
they WANTED to look. Tall, thin, naturally pale with a
translucent edge. Kind of like the color of skim milk, with that
blue tinge to him. The sword strapped to his back made it a bit
awkward for him to sit down.

     "Hello there Mr..."
     "Renaku."
     "Right." I shuffled through his resume, which the Finn had
helpfully taken and passed on, scribbling several observations of
each character on them. The words "hemogoblin challenged
individual" caught my eye, right along with the "vampire" Finn
had written next to it.

     "So...you're a...uh living undead." I said trying to be
politically correct. "Any feeding problems that might crop up?"
     "Oh no." he shook his head. "I get my energy from demons."
     "Demons? As in yoma?"
     "That's correct."
     Uh oh. Problem already. Killing of your clients workforce
isn't a service we employ. Maybe he'd have some good points.
     "Main method of assassination?"
     "My sword." Renaku unsheathed it and I felt something
similar to Itami's sword.
     "Let me guess." I muttered, his prospects falling rapidly.
"It's magic."
     "Well yes. I think it would give me and edge you lack over
magic users."
     Sorry pal. You're gone. No WAY I'm getting screwed over
again by some mystic-crap style weapon.

     "Interesting. I'll keep you in mind."

               *              *              *

     Basically the interviews went downhill from there.
     
"Uhm...yes manipulating computer data is impressive Ms. Bot but
can you do anything actually physical in the REAL world? No? Ah."
Wow-too bad. I mean she's wearing less than Laura Croft...

"No Ms. Summers, I'm sorry but stakes aren't really the best
choice of weapons in this job." Plus your undead boyfriend on his
revenge spiel isn't going to boost my peace of mind.
     
"We'll call you later." Dear God, get away from me.

"Uhm...Ms. Tsuinko, are you actually aware of what we DO for a
living?"
     
Wasn't there ANYONE half competent out there? I groaned. One more
interviewee left.

     "Come in." I called.

     The door banged open and a grinning DEMON looked at me.
After my heart calmed down I realized it was just a human being
with a bloody scary haircut. Smiling he sauntered in, put down
his briefcase and extended a hand.

     "Hello! I'm Jack-Controversial Jack!" his smile widened.
"I'm here for my interview!"

     I took in the business attire, the hair-do, the duck on his
shoulder...yes. Fate had saved the best for last. That bastard. I
flipped to his sheet-The Finn had written "I'll just let you see
for yourself." Underneath it, apparently when he wasn't looking,
someone had scribbled "Say YES to amendment 452 * - the
prohibition of knitting little pink sweaters for poodles."
underneath it.

     Okay...

     "So...Jack..." I pretended to be busy looking through his
report. "What are your views-" as soon as I said "views" his face
lit up. "On maiming and killing magical girls?" Hey, it was the
end of the day. I might as well have some fun being blunt.

     Jack grinned. His morning was getting better. Someone had
actually ASKED for his opinion! And when Anne had shoved a
newspaper under his face and asked him to "pick the first job you
see and try it." He had though this would be boring...

     "I think our fair city has been under attack from these
nefarious criminals long enough!" Said Jack, standing and
pounding on the desk. "Why the cost in pedestrian traffic hold-up
ALONE is enough to make an honest citizen quiver with rage! And
if that isn't enough these vagrants go around enslaving animals
to do their work! Mr. Duck is VERY adamant about that!"

     Jack poked the duck, which squeaked.

     "I...see."

     "And these organizations-if *I* were running an Unholy
collection of yoma I'D sure try to do better! Of COURSE I'd love
to kill them off!"

     "Sir?" I interjected wearily. "We kill of the GIRLS, not the
yoma."

     "Really?" Jack paused. "Well I've never cared for color
coordinated fuku's." A man after my own heart. "We kill the
GIRLS. Even better!" 
     Wow. He has potential in an odd sort of way. Too bad he's
mentally unbalanced to the point where he's falling over.

     "Hey-" he spotted the fuku on the wall. "A trophy! Do we get
to keep them?"

     "Er-that's just an example of the fine work we do for our
clientele."