The Psyche Diver Trilogy: Demon Hunters by Baku Yumemakura Page A

that your rabbit?” Ishida asked. His voice betrayed tension, trembling slightly. The man’s smile broadened as he picked up on Ishida’s fear.
    “More or less.” The man with the scar on his chin watched as the other two men moved forward. Emi shuffled closer to Ishida, grabbing his arm with both her hands. The taller of the two men glared at her pale hands.
    “Umm,” Ishida muttered.
    He sounded ridiculous, unable think of anything to say. The noncommittal sound had come out automatically, some kind of mix between a greeting and an apology. The two men ran their sticky gazes over Emi’s body like they were assessing the value of the flesh under her clothes.
    “If you’ve got any food, we’d appreciate the gift,” the taller man spoke again, his eyes still on Emi.
    Ishida had three meals of instant noodles and some biscuits as emergency rations in his rucksack, and Emi had some apples and chocolate.
    “We don’t have any,” he replied.
    “If you want money, we’ve got it,” the man said, ignoring him. The shorter man plucked the hiking knife from his hand.
    “What are you doing?”
    “How’d you expect us to have a conversation while you’re holding a dangerous thing like this?” He brandished the knife in Ishida’s face.
    “Hiroshi! Make sure you ask what we need to ask first.” For the first time, the man with the scar called out.
    “Sure, no worries Iba,” the shorter one, Hiroshi, answered him. It seemed the one with the scar, the one he had called Iba, was in charge of the group. “I don’t suppose you’ve seen a man wandering the area by himself, hmm?” Hiroshi asked.
    “What kind of man?”
    “His name’s Hosuke Kumon. Looks different than you hiker types.”
    “We’ve only seen normal hikers,” Ishida answered honestly.
    “Don’t sweat it. Didn’t think for a minute you would have,” as Hiroshi spoke, the tall man suddenly reached out to grope Emi’s breasts.
    Emi stopped a scream halfway up her throat; she pulled harder at Ishida’s arm.
    “Please, stop!” he yelled.
    “I thought I’d told you, if you want money, we’ve got it.”
    “We’ll be generous after we’re done ramming this one.” The two men broke into laughter for the first time.
    “I bet your boyfriend here’s fucked you enough, huh? Bet you know a few moves alright.”
    “Even if you don’t, the name’s Yajima, and I am a fuckin’ pro. I’ll teach you good.” The tall one laughed in response.
    Hiroshi positioned the knife along Ishida’s throat. The man that had called himself Yajima made a sudden move to grab Emi.
    She let out a piercing scream--the scream that alerted Biku.
    6
    Yakima’s buttocks danced between Emi’s widely spread legs.
    Each thrust ground against the insides of her white thighs, forcing her legs wider still. His right hand kneaded her generous breasts, tightly squeezing her nipples, glistening wet with his saliva, between his index finger and thumb. She forced her eyes closed, enduring the misery. He had forced his cock into her with only spit as lubrication. The pain was razor-edged. He pounded inside her relentlessly. Tears came to the corners of her eyes.
    It was not the first time she had a man inside her. She had slept with Ishida a number of times and two men before him, but none of that helped to soften the pain she was experiencing now. She only prayed that Ishida had closed his eyes, but at the same time she felt regret. She knew that there was nothing he could do to the three men while he had a knife to his throat. Even if he tried, she knew that nothing would come of it. She understood, but she wanted him to put up a fight nonetheless. She knew their relationship would be over. After this, there would be no way to go back to things as they were before.
    Ishida was backed up against a tree, knife still at his throat, watching the two of them with blind stupor, unable to look away. Even as he held the knife, Hiroshi was watching Yajima and Emi with an animal