Day 33
Location: The House of the Green Mermaid (Starbucks) – Shinjuku Street
I stood before the temple of the modern alchemists, "Starbucks."
In my left hand, I clutched a warm "Bag of Sealing" (containing the beast’s waste).
In my right hand, I held the chain of the Hellhound, Cerberus (Doberman).
"Wait here, Demon Beast," I commanded, tying his leash to a streetlamp.
"Guard the perimeter. I shall infiltrate the enemy stronghold to retrieve the Master’s elixir."
Cerberus snorted—hmpf—and glared at a passing poodle.
He understood his mission.
I adjusted my suit collar and reluctantly hid the "Contaminated Matter" in my pocket. (I could not bring it openly into the sacred hall, nor could I abandon it on the street like a lawless rōnin.)
I took a deep breath.
Infiltration start.
Location: Inside the Temple
The automatic doors slid open.
A powerful aroma hit me—roasted beans, steam, and burnt sugar. It was the scent of dark magic.
The interior was filled with a strange, rhythmic music known as "Jazz."
The customers sat at wooden tables, staring intently into glowing silver plates (MacBooks). They looked like monks performing a collective ritual.
I looked up at the Sigil above the counter.
A green circle containing a woman. A twin-tailed mermaid. The Siren.
"As I suspected... a House of the Water Demon," I muttered. "Instead of drowning sailors with song, she enslaves the workforce with caffeine."
I joined the line and pulled out my Oracle Slate (Smartphone) to verify the Demon Lord’s command.
[ Kotaro: Don't forget my Latte. Extra foam. ]
"Latte... Extra foam..." I repeated.
"He gives no further specifications. Is this a test? Does he demand I assess the battlefield and choose the optimal configuration myself?"
I reached the front.
The Guardian of the Counter (Barista) was a young woman wearing the green apron of the Alchemist Guild.
"Hi there! What can I get started for you?"
"I desire the Latte," I announced with gravitas.
"And make it 'Extra Foam.' My Lord wishes to drink the clouds."
"Starbucks Latte, extra foam. Got it. What size would you like?"
Test Number One: The Size.
I looked at the menu board above.
Short. Tall. Grande. Venti.
A war council convened in my brain.
Short is the foot soldier. Tall is the ashigaru commander. Grande implies the Earth... the General.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
And Venti... the sound implies 'Vent'. The Wind.
Fuma Kotaro is the Chieftain of the Wind Clan. There was only one correct choice.
"Venti," I declared. "Give me the size of the Wind."
"Venti. Would you like to change the milk? We have Soy, Oat, Almond..."
Test Number Two: The Milk.
Cow’s milk is the blood of the beast.
Oat is the food of horses.
Soy... the Soybean. Miso. Tofu. Natto. The source of a Japanese warrior’s strength.
"Soy," I nodded firmly. "Do not use the beast. Infuse it with the power of the bean."
"Venti Soy Latte, Extra Foam. Okay! Anything else?"
I exhaled. Perfect logical deduction.
"I... I also require a reward for myself."
My eyes locked onto a picture of a drink that looked like a mountain peak covered in snow and dark mud.
Dark Mocha Chip Frappuccino.
"That one," I pointed.
"The 'Sludge of the Dark Mountain'. One of those. Size... Grande (Earth)."
"Dark Mocha Chip Frappuccino, Grande. Whipped cream on top?"
"Decorate the summit. Generously."
"Alright! Can I get a name for the cup?"
My heart stopped.
A name?
Why does she need my name? Does she intend to write it in the Book of Enma (The King of Hell)? Is this a ritual to bind the potion to my bloodline?
A ninja never reveals his true name to a civilian.
To give a name is to give away one's life.
If I say "Masanari," a historian might overhear.
"Your name?" She held the pen, waiting.
I leaned over the counter, whispering so the spies in the line would not hear.
"I cannot reveal my true name."
"Huh?"
"Write..." I paused. "Write... 'Shadow' (Kage)."
Kage. The essence of my being.
At that exact moment, the blender behind her roared to life.
VRRRRRRRRRRRRR!
"Sorry, what was that?" she shouted over the noise.
"SHADOW!" I yelled. "I AM THE SHADOW!"
She smiled brightly and scribbled on the cup. "Okay, got it!"
The Attack of the Ice Demon
Five minutes later.
At the Pick-Up Zone.
"Order for... Venti Soy Latte! And..."
The Barista looked at the second cup and tilted her head.
"A Grande Mocha for... Shaggy?"
I froze.
Shaggy?
I reached out with a trembling hand and took the cup.
Indeed, written in bubbly black marker was the name:
SHAGGY
I immediately pulled out my Oracle Slate and consulted the God of Translation.
[ Search: Shaggy ]
[ Meaning: Hairy, unkempt, messy. ]
"Insolent..." I groaned.
Does she see me as a beast? Do I look like I am covered in fur?
This was a psychological attack. A single hearing error had reduced a solitary master ninja into a "Messy Man."
"...My gratitude," I muttered, accepting the cup with a sense of defeat.
Location: Outside (With Cerberus)
The air was cold.
Cerberus was sitting patiently. When I returned, he wagged his tail exactly once.
"I kept you waiting, partner."
I untied the leash.
In my left hand, the hot Venti Latte. In my right hand, the freezing Frappuccino. In my pocket, the sealed waste.
My hands were fully occupied.
"Now, before we march... I must replenish my chakra."
I brought the "Dark Mountain" to my lips.
I clamped my mouth around the green bamboo reed (straw) and inhaled deeply.
The sweet, freezing sludge rushed up the pipe.
The crunch of chocolate. Delicious.
"Mmm. Truly, this is the nectar of the West—"
ZING.
Impact.
A spear of pure ice stabbed through the roof of my mouth and pierced my brain.
"Guh...!!"
I nearly collapsed to my knees, but I held the cups steady to save the fluids.
I wanted to clutch my forehead. I wanted to scream. But my hands were full.
"Nugooooooqh!"
I looked up at the sky, my face twisted in agony.
"Poison?! No... this is... The Ice Style: Skull Splitter Technique!"
Pedestrians gave a wide berth to the man in the suit writhing in pain next to a Doberman.
"Woof."
Cerberus looked down at me with cold eyes.
Idiot, he seemed to say.
I waited for the pain to subside, panting heavily.
"...A formidable defense mechanism. But I am awake now."
I adjusted my grip on the Latte and hooked the leash over my elbow.
"Let us go, Shaggy... I mean, Cerberus. The Lord awaits."
We began the march home.
I held my cup carefully, turning it so the dishonorable name faced my palm.
Days Remaining: 67
Masanari’s Cultural Notes
? Starbucks (The House of the Green Siren):
A global guild of caffeine alchemists. Their sigil is a twin-tailed mermaid. They use her siren song (Jazz music) and black holy water (coffee) to extract labor from the modern workforce.
? Frappuccino (The Sludge of the Dark Mountain):
An edible potion made of crushed ice.
Warning: Rapid consumption triggers a phenomenon known as "Ice Cream Headache"... or more accurately, the "Curse of the Ice Dragon." There is no cure. One must simply endure.
? Venti (The Size of Wind):
While civilians believe it means "Twenty" in Italian, for a Ninja, it clearly refers to a "Vent" (Air/Wind). Therefore, it is the only acceptable size for the Fuma Clan.
Next Episode Preview
Episode 34: The Printer of Rebellion and the Paper Jam of Doom
? Masanari: "I have been tasked with the sacred duty of 'The Copy'! I must duplicate the scrolls of the Quarterly Report!"
? The Printer: Beep. PC LOAD LETTER.
? Masanari: "PC Load Letter? What does that mean?! Why does it demand a letter?! I have no correspondence for you, machine!"
? Masanari: "It jammed! It has swallowed the scroll! I must perform surgery on the rollers! Hand me a letter opener! I'm going in!"
Next Time: Masanari vs. The Xerox Beast!
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