[ what should have been a simple delivery of muscle against thieves and a sweetly crooned coercing into a protections deal has swiftly devolved into ... well, this:

an oni — dressed like she's lived and evolved along with this version of hell, yet a thousand years slain and naturally resistant to the progression of time — sat in front of one of the net cafe's computers, clicking, clicking, clicking. on the screen is a game.

or maybe a quarter of one, the rest covered pixel by pixel in dozens of pop-ups. she sighs, heavy and long. ]

I just don't get these things ... is this supposed to be fun? If I broke it, maybe I'll try another one ...

[ well, she's here. she may as well go down the line. ]

[ treasure earned fairly with cunning and hard work is hardly worth an oni's time. nevermind the fact that she cares more for rarities and beauties than sums and riches, a bounty is rarely the sort of business shuten would involve herself in, even in the periphery of its politics and regardless of the number of zeroes at the end of the reward.

the reason she lends herself here, as well as with the wanted grifter, is in the name underscoring these mission trails.

iron bear.

it makes her wonder. but most of all ... it makes her sympathetic towards her dear clan leader, the one who wore his heart on his sleeve for her and confided in her company.

so she's here, cleaning up. sweeping the rabble away so as to keep things simpler for the big blue oni and his already-clouded thoughts. a favor from her to him, she figures. a heel descends on the skull of one fuming bounty hunter, and his fury goes out like a light.

but here's his mentor, come to the rescue, more balanced than his protégé yet still caught by the hysteria of one hundred billion yen, yelling about how much they need that money. ]

You really shouldn't try to play on the heartstrings of an oni, dear. All you'll be hearing soon is screeching anyway.