Tokarev - Volume 01 - The Hunter

By Alex Blake

Everyone struggles, everyone dies, but everyone has a role to play.

The supernatural is all around us, you just choose not to see it. Or no one believes you. But there are people in this world who deal in exorcising demons, spirits and other strange and magical entities from existence, who go just as unnoticed. These people are called Hunters.

Takai Hamanaka grew up surrounded by Japanese folklore, comic books, and video games to ignore his mundane borderline hermit life. Trying to be a hero himself, he ends up getting involved in something far beyond what he can handle. Far beyond his sister's cooking.

Does he have what it takes to stay alive in a Hunter's world?

Be careful what you wish for.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Alex Blake
• Release date: Jul 28, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201681760

Book preview

ONE

Owarino City, Hajimari Prefecture, Japan.

February 16th, 2009, 18:03pm

My jaw felt like it was being inflated with hot air and pain. Being punched in the face would do that. How many hits was I on now? Have I fought with these guys before? Honestly, I was beginning to lose track. I seemed to be a glutton for punishment but called it a personal justice to make myself feel better. And for what? Most of the time when I tried to play hero, I ended up becoming the victim.

I was on my way back from the city centre, the video game I wanted went on sale today, Final Requiem 7. It was a remake of a ground-breaking role-playing game I loved playing as a kid, fighting monsters with a giant sword, exploring new worlds, solving puzzles and saving the girl. Most of my work day was just counting down the hours until I could head into town before the store shut. Luckily, I managed to get one of the few remaining copies.

What was unlucky, was running into a crime on my way home. But not unexpected. This was Owarino after all. At least, I think what I was walking into was a crime. Three intimidating looking men looking to be around thirty or forty, surrounding a young woman clutching her back; her body tense, her expression in the street light appeared to be gasping for breath, searching desperately for an escape. I waited with baited breath just in case I was misinterpreting the situation, but as soon as I saw her try to run away, one of the men grabbed her arm roughly before throwing her into the wall and pinning himself over her. Yeah. I had to step in. Even though part of me didn't want to because I was obviously outnumbered. I gingerly put down my backpack – as well as the game case I was reading for the walk home, and found an average sized rock on the ground. I used it as a warning shot, as I threw it between the shoulder blades of the man closest to me. There was no doubt it had got his attention.

One by one the thugs turned to me; sizing me up, comparing me to the whimpering woman like lions pondering which isolated fawn would be the easier prey. They chose me. Lucky again. Though I'd rather it was me than her. During the ten paces it took to get to me, I tried to download everything I knew from my past training of high school Taekwondo and boxing matches I had seen from television. Three paces, two paces, one. ...here we go.

I kicked him in his stomach like you would to break down a door, this gave me enough distance to get a running start for my next attack. Now with room for a movement, I delivered another kick to his face, which knocked him off of his feet as well as consciousness. Staggering, I tried to catch my breath. Feeling the adrenaline pump through me, fuelling my fight response.

I tried to kick the next guy, but he hit me with what I think was my own backpack. This allowed him to step in close enough to give me a right hook in my face. It shook me up a bit, but not enough to receive his next punch which I blocked with my forearm – better a bruised muscle than a broken nose, I then replied to his attack by punching his throat. He held his neck and stagger backwards, gagging for breath.

I jumped and quickly span my body in the air and delivered a powerful kick aiming at his throat again to add injury to injury. He dropped down to his knees and began to wheeze even more. I had been in brawls many times before, but it seldom got this acrobatic. I was kind of enjoying it, but I had enough fear in me to keep me focused.

The last guy wanted revenge – and I almost didn't blame him, he grabbed me by my collar and hit me a few times before kneeing me in the stomach; literally knocking the wind out of me, followed by throwing me against the same wall he had done the woman. I watched as another fist came my way, but I managed to duck at the last second causing him to punch the wall instead. I scurried in a side step around him like a pest trying to hide from an exterminator, hoping to gain the upper hand by staying in his blind spot. Now I was behind him, I had enough time to spin to generate enough speed to strike his back with my heel, sending him into the wall this time. I then grabbed the back of his head and slammed it against the brick again and again and again, desperate to knock him out as I waited for his body to fall to the ground unconscious. It did.

I stood back and took in the three men rolling around in pain on the ground and couldn't help but feel impressed with myself, with some disbelief on the side. But I knew from first and second hand experience that if you hesitated in a street fight in Owarino, you'd be in the hospital – either in the emergency room or the morgue.

I looked over to the young woman - who at first glance you would mistake for a young girl afraid of the dark, her knees into her chest and her shoulders raised to her ears, not wanting to peak out into the black. I walked over to her slowly and with open arms to show caution and vulnerability, trying to convey an expression between worry and kindness so I didn't look unhinged or overly friendly. I didn't know how the other men approached her before I got there, and I didn't want her to feel like she was about to relive it.

''Hey, it's okay now.'' I spoke, trying to hide the pain in my voice. I reach out my hand to her, but she feared me just as much as she feared the other men. I understood. I took a few steps back. ''You should get going. Maybe call a friend or someone you can talk to on your walk home, so if something else were to happen there'd be a witness.''

I think what I said just went in one ear and out the other, as she seemed to avoid staring at me. Again, understandable given what she went through. So long as she was safe, that was enough for me. It was an old school of thought. A lot of old action and horror films where the chiselled hero saves the damsel – even if it means making himself the punching bag. Like my video games too, I guess. Speaking of.

I searched for my things quickly, not wanting another fight as I had used all the adrenaline I had after a long day of work. I threw my backpack over my shoulder, then reached for my video game, only to see it had been opened, and the disc had been stepped on and broke in half. Shit.

I checked my watch after throwing away the seven thousand yen I had taken months to convince myself to save and spend, only to realise I was late for dinner. I was in for another fight, but one more verbal than physical. Hopefully.

Though I was a little punch drunk...or a lot punch drunk, I managed to find my way to the graffiti ridden lobby of my building. No longer reacting to the 'out of order' sign on the elevator that had been there for years, and used the stairs. My bruised muscles managed to handled the trek to my apartment,  but I was going to feel this more in the morning. Our apartment. I was ''looking after'' my sister and grandmother. We had no parents to do it for me. Granny was of an age where she could live by herself, but she just needed company and someone to drive her to the hospital from time to time. I did however live with my sister. Since despite the rough neighbourhood we lived in, it would still be difficult for a twenty something like myself to own a place on my own that was hygienic enough to call a place to live. That and my sister couldn't cook very well, even though she insisted to cook for me twice a week. Today was one of those days.

I passed the door on one floor where the small dog would bark at anyone passing by, guarding it from the other side like Cerberus with the gates of hell, passed the door on another where the newly-weds were seeing who could yell the loudest instead of coming to an agreement on something, passed the door on the floor where the old man would play his television too loud because he was half deaf and refused to get a hearing aid. And eventually coming to mine.

Unlocking and relocking a door is just another ambient sound in a home, but when you're late for something or it's an ungodly hour, you may as well kick the door down and play a trumpet. As soon as I turned the key in the lock for the second time, I could swear she sounded like our Grandmother in her youth. 

''You're late, Takai. You said you wouldn't be late again.'' I heard echo through the apartment as I kicked off my converse and replaced them with slippers, so not to drag dirt inside from the entry way. A very Japanese thing to do.

I finished locking the door; the secondary chain lock and the tertiary bolt lock, then headed to the main area of the apartment - which doubled as both kitchen, dining room and living room. I stared at my sister, standing in the centre of the room with her hands on her hips, waiting for her to notice the shades of red and purple on my face. And that's when she gasped.

She sped to my side and cradled my face like an overprotective mother, tilting it left and right to inspect the damage. Even though we were related, a stranger wouldn't see the resemblance between us until closer inspection. Our eyes were monolid, we had the same hair colour – before my bleach blonde transformation, but I took after my Father and Nanami took after our Mother. If I was a square, she was a circle. Her eyes were large; cute, where