Tales of a Ninja Magician: Of Games of Body and Soul

The Missing Piece

The scurrying black ones led the bone-covered ninja and Mana through a net of alleyways and passageways that made it look like the shadiest way to get to wherever one wanted to go. Regardless of the first impressions, just what option did these poor people have, looking how they look. It was true what was noted before, a certain degree of weirdness was tolerated in ninja, which was why these odd-looking spliced ninja managed to stay hidden in plain sight, however, for civilians the conditions were a completely different thing entirely.

"Your name," Mana asked. "You know who I am, clearly, given how much leeway I'm giving you, I'll need some more leverage on you."

"Buberuri." The man replied.

"This name is made up." Mana shook her head gently.

"Not any more than the name I put on my documents officially. It is how the people I work with, people I affiliate with and with whom we bond over a common goal call me. It is in a lot of ways a more real name to me than the one my parents gave me." Buberuri said.

"Fair enough." The magician sighed.

The black ones began looking around themselves frantically as if looking for something they've lost or... Simply checking if they weren't being paid significant attention to as they required to bolt quickly from out of a corner and into a shop that laid out in the open. From where she was at that time, Mana could not see the nature of that shop. Even if she tried to somehow guess through the clues present around her, try to recall the village streets she had memorized and tell exactly which shop it was from the sights of the street that laid ahead and out of the shadows, the black ones attracted the most of her attention anyway.

These poor shapes did not run. They merely stepped out in a brisk pace. They did not let their eyes wander over the villagers walking about with their business for curious eyes attracted curiosity in return. Like a humble herd that they truly were, the poor souls walked out and staggered all hunched up like a line of little chicks following their mother.

Mana and Buberuri stepped out after them in a short while. From what the magician could notice, a small group of rotten, blackened people attracted less attention than she did. It was remarkable really but also not outside of what one could have deduced to be the case. After all, was it truly that extraordinary to see someone this messed up in a world where children learned to breathe fire before becoming old enough to drink?

"A fruit-shop?" Mana wondered looking at the faintly glowing neon sign that did not turn off its enticing glow even in the earlier hours when it reasonably should have.

"As handy as the painkiller formula we sell across the Land of Fire is, it is technically black market goods. We cannot just sell them from a wooden counter like we used to but the village does not go out of its way to shut these points down either." Buberuri shrugged before stepping up and leaving the door open for Mana to enter. Had he not been leading Mana into a den of horrible human experiments and genetic splicing on barely sound-minded enough individuals for it to be called "consensual", Buberuri would have seemed like a gentleman.

"Makes sense," Mana mumbled almost is to herself while she stepped through the open door and let her follower close it down. "As long as the painkiller works and doesn't actively cause harm, the village has no reason to expend real effort in shutting you guys down. It's the same as someone selling candy on the street and calling it cold-medicine."

"Indeed, Placebo does not deserve the full kick-the-door-down treatment." Buberuri nodded while he led Mana through what seemed like a normal fruit shop and past the counter, into the room behind it, where normally additional supplies would have been laid down for when the shop required to be resupplied.