Mercenary Road by Hideyuki Kikuchi Page A

“What’s all this? They were able to fool you and me both?”
    The cyborg horse had galloped up to the front of the same farmhouse they’d just left.
    “Seems like being stuck in that fog numbs your sense of direction. Sent us right back where we started, eh?”
    “Can you get rid of it?” D asked.
    “More or less. Even if I said I couldn’t, you’d make me do it anyway, wouldn’t you? Hey, do you hear that?”
    D nodded.
    “They’re laughing! Calling you an idiot to fall for that so easily,” the hoarse voice said, and his remark seemed to carry both reproach and encouragement.
    The cyborg horse tore at the ground—this time, they didn’t divert to the plains. They headed straight for the highway. The fog surged toward them. Like a sentient being, it took shape, engulfing the horse and rider from all sides. Just as D was about to meld with the whiteness, he looked like a person being caught in a tremendous wave.
    It was at this second the incident occurred.
    The fog flowed toward a certain spot. The spot moved with the same speed as the galloping cyborg horse, creating a shape like a gigantic funnel. The whirling fog was now being sucked into its own vortex. A minute later, the last of the fog had been consumed—during which time D raced a mile and a quarter, and even now he continued on at breakneck speed.
    Countless presences were in motion to either side of him—the source of the blow darts. The ones who’d summoned the perplexing fog. It could be none other than the supernatural soldiers.
    “Here they come! Now things are getting interesting,” the hoarse voice said, sounding excited.
    More than his eyes, D relied on his hearing, but beyond that he was counting on a sort of sixth sense to locate his foes. The reanimated mercenaries couldn’t have had time to seal off the entire highway yet. Undoubtedly the forces hindering him at present were merely part of a scouting party. If there were military units, there would also have to be a chain of command. D’s intent was to destroy the core of that command structure.
    Blow darts rained down on him from either side.
    D raised his left hand. The human face that rose to its surface was plastered with an unsettling grin.
    Whitish smoke enveloped D and his steed. This new white fog swallowed the blow darts that were aimed precisely at the horse and rider. D knew all the darts that flew into the fog would vanish. Just as the first fog had beguiled D’s sense of direction, the white fog billowing from his left hand was throwing the blow darts off course. It was precisely because of this that D had dared to ride down the middle of the highway.
    “What’s this?” the left hand said in a purposeful tone.
    D knew just what it was talking about.
    Roughly five hundred yards ahead of them sat an object of incredible mass.
    “They’re better armed than I thought. They’ve taken up a position there!”

    “Can you confuse them?”
    “That’ll depend on the opposition, I guess,” the hoarse voice said gravely.
    The meaning of this was immediately apparent. A white cloud billowed toward them once again from up ahead. When the other fog collided with their own, it lost its ability to confuse.
    Batting down the blow darts flying at him, D made his mount take a great leap. He easily cleared what appeared to be a seven-foot-high barricade looming before him. Constructed of steel pipes strung with iron netting, it was a tried-and-true arrangement.
    As soon as they touched back down to earth, the fog vanished. The Hunter’s left hand wasn’t expelling it any longer . . . but not due to any instructions from D. They were simply on the same wavelength.
    Figures in gray uniforms ran everywhere, trying to flee. They’d never expected D to break through like that. The attack that followed couldn’t have lasted ten seconds from start to finish. That was all it took to decide the victor.
    D didn’t look at the foes around him. His target loomed about ten yards ahead.