There were more people than John expected, but he just had to stick to the plan they had discussed. He just had to say a few words and then step out before Yuki did a particularly gruesome trick to mollify the mob.

At some point, the skies had turned ugly gray, and it started drizzling. The rain was thin, light, almost akin to a summer afternoon's, other than the bite it carried, like tiny little fangs scraping against his flesh. The heat had nearly been entirely sucked out of the day like someone had flipped a switch.

Yet, around the edges of the cordon, there was still a growing crowd, held back by militia men unsure of whether to face out or in, weapons barring the streets as they constantly alternated between watching the building and the growing mob of people with less self-preservation than sense attempting to get a glimpse at active combat. He could have sworn that they had set up farther away, but… Oh well, this would work well enough.

John was just happy that they were far enough away that nobody could throw rocks at their captive roof tax collectors.

Say, speaking of.

"Well, that's a bit of a mess, isn't it?" John half-whispered to the kitsune at his side, standing before the door. "Are you sure I have to address the crowd too? I know we discussed it earlier, but…"

"It's probably for the best, sadly," she sighed, watching Rin run off, taking the role of their messenger. "We can skip your part of the speech, if you wish, but you should probably talk to your captives, at the very least. They'll be too terrified to understand me."

No matter how much he disliked the solution, it made sense, and he could think of no better answer. He couldn't be too mad, though, given he was still riding the emotional high of having a functioning Kiku detector!

He waved it toward the distant crowd, the lack of clicks a balm for his tired, stressed mind.

"Right, I guess I'd better get on it then, before Rin returns with an audience," commented John, unclipping the flying disc from his bag and setting it on the ground, turning it on and stepping onto it.

"Good luck," Yuki said as he started to hover, and he responded with a smile and quick nod before rising into the air.

As he drifted over the street, what greeted him was a series of wet, scared men trapped on the second floor of the building across the lot. Water dripped off their forms, and a few of them were shivering. The clothing they had under their lacking armour was only lightly layered; a few hardly had anything under their protective plating. It was strange to think it probably would have helped them about as much as a sternly worded letter if either he or Yuki were actually to want to harm them.

It was sobering. John hadn't thought too much about what his tools could do to actual people before recent events, even if there were admittedly a few times in his darkest moments when they called to him like a siren. It was like seeing a perfectly normal machine in a factory or a shop, and then seeing the training videos designed to scar you into compliance.

"Afternoon, gentlemen," he greeted. "It's a shame we didn't meet in better circumstances," he lied. He was sure that anyone who stayed in this line of work would be unpleasant at the best of times. "Lady Yuki will be personally handling your interrogations later, but for now, I have some things to go over with you."

It was as if time froze for them with how they ceased all movement, and he let them marinate in their fear for just long enough to let it sink in how dire their situation was. Admittedly, it felt dirty, but Yuki knew best here. Still, John couldn't have too much sympathy for them; robbing countless people blind tended to do that.

"Don't worry, she's a generous yokai… most of the time. Vengeful, though. I had to fight tooth and nail for this deal," John lied again, shaking his head. "Although I have some information for all of you, and a deal. I'm afraid you won't like it, but it's the best chance you have. First off, what would you say happened last night?"

John hated having to discuss this, but there was no other choice. He had to know what he was working with first.

He stopped again, taking a minute to take in the faces of his enraptured, absolutely terrified audience.

Breaking their trance, an awkward murmur came over the down or so vulnerable men, looking between one another as if daring someone to speak up first. John was just about to pick someone like a teacher voluntelling some poor kid in front of the whole class, but one mousy-looking man towards the back sheepishly chimed in with "We were told you ambushed the convoy heading towards the drop off spot and wiped it out, Lord Hall."

Guilt momentarily seized his chest, although he kept his face level as he mercilessly beat it back down, unwilling to show weakness in front of these men.

"So, do any of you know what a Nameless is?" John asked once he got himself back under control.

A few hands haltingly went up, and the men who did were getting a bit worried.

"Good, good. So, I'll let those people catch everyone else up on what's going on, but the long and short of it is that you have been working for a spider monster the size of a small house that is obsessed with hoarding money, and the 'special taxes' you've been enforcing have been purely to enrich it. That warehouse you were dropping some of the goods off at was a collection point for it to snag its ill-gotten gains," he blasely explained, and that actually caused a clamour.

Some of them seemed confused. Others were panicked. A pair were much less surprised than they should have been, actually. John made a mental note of those two. You know, just to keep an eye on them.

"It looks pretty bad… but I've come to offer a deal. Those yokai have been angered, and they'll probably come to kill everyone sooner or later for whatever wealth remains in town." The fact that it was to fight John and Yuki went unmentioned, lest they get any thoughts about trying to bargain for their safety. "Plus, their presence would bring down powerful groups to scour the area, ones that will very much not be happy with you enabling them."

The men tensed, fresh terror clouding their expressions as they looked ready to bolt, despite it being a long drop followed by a quick stop.

"You can either work under the local militia because we need all the men we can get, or you can take your chances with the Nameless. Don't worry, if they capture you, they'll only hollow you out and wear you like clothing," John stated, pausing. Using the ongoing tragedy as a weapon felt dirty, but he had to at least lay out the situation for them. Besides, he wouldn't let someone do that to themselves; no, he'd find some way to stop them. "I'm not sure how aware you remain after it happens, but I'd probably not test it, myself."

"Oh, fuck that, I'm in!" a man hurriedly offered. "I swear my service to Lord Hall!"

Wait. No, not like that!

"To Lord Hall!"

The first two caused a wave of hurried agreements and sworn oaths that weren't worth the air used to speak them, as John's brain was busy shutting down and rebooting.

Oh fuck, he was not ready for this level of responsibility. What the hell was he going to do with a dozen sworn ex-bandits? Would he be responsible for all their crimes? Would it only be future crimes?

"No," John answered, trying to keep his expression calm, maybe with a slight bit of natural disdain. You could reject someone swearing themselves to you, right? Especially when they were clearly just bullshitting you. "I will not accept your oath. This group will be broken up and assist the people of this village in surviving the coming threat. Do well, and I'll see what I can do. Will this be a problem?"

Hesitant shakes of the head all around.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

"Good," he said, and at that, he left, feeling slightly slimy.

John froze for just a minute as he did so, thinking about their shivering forms and made a quick stop, floating by the strange combination inn-hot spring that he couldn't remember the term for, grabbing some towels through an open window, and tossing them over, waiting for no reply before he headed back off to Yuki.

If they were damaged, he'd make sure to pay whoever owned that place before back once he found out who they were, but he wouldn't have any of them, criminals or not, getting something from exposure if he could help it.

Drifting back down, he saw Yuki and Rin briefing Sergeant Yashiro, who had a complex expression on his face, like he had bitten into sour candy and was trying to decide how much he liked it.

"It is done. They said yes," John stated, putting on his most unaffected expression for the audience. It wasn't as if they had a choice.

Yashiro's expression only soured further. Oh, they must have gone into things pretty deeply already.

"If it makes you feel any better, Sergeant," Yuki interjected, "those are the only living tax collectors you'll have to deal with." She pointed a tail tip back to the inn. "You may want to get some cleaners in there sooner rather than later, before the blood sets in too much. No need to get the priests involved before you hand the place back to whoever owns it, though. Those men will not be haunting anyone."

Yashiro paled, hurriedly bowing. "Of course, Lady Yuki. I'll get them on it after this," he demurely answered. "Shall I tell the men you're ready now?"

Even John could tell he was dodging the issue, but was too polite to say so.

"It is time, I think," Yuki commented, waving him off to go to… Now that he thought of it, the crowd was even closer. Nobody was pushing against the men yet, but they looked like they had taken a few steps back. They didn't look too mob-ish or lynch-y, so he wasn't too worried, but even looking at that many people in one place involuntarily set his heart speeding.

Back home, this wouldn't match the stream of people even on a slow day in a city. Here, though? It felt like the entire world was watching. "Right. I suppose we'd better be off, then."

Yuki nodded. "Agreed. Rin, mind making sure that nobody kills the prisoners we've conscripted? Move them to the far side of the roof, too."

Come on now, Yuki, why did you have to put it like that?

"Of course, Lady Yuki!" she agreed, with almost too much excitement in her voice before whipping around and borderline running straight up the side of the building where they were captive, flipping onto the roof and drawing a chorus of terrified shouts as she very, very loudly announced her presence.

And at that, the two of them reentered the ryokan—that was the word—and headed to the second floor. It was a purely pragmatic choice. There was something to be said about a height advantage when delivering speeches, apparently. In retrospect, it was instinctively obvious, but John had never really thought about it before Yuki mentioned it. Of course he'd get lost in the mass of humanity if he just stood next to her in a crowd, and even if he shouted really loud, it didn't have the same effect as if they couldn't see him too.

"Do you think we have to worry about them getting killed the second we look away?" John asked as he climbed up to the second floor ahead of Yuki, instinctively offering her his hand as she climbed the steep stairs behind him, which she graciously took despite clearly not needing it.

"No," Yuki replied, brushing her magical black-white-gold clothing and smoothing it out. John quickly copied her, suddenly hyper-aware of every crease. "Yashiro would be foolish to toss away any extra blades right now."

"And the citizens?" John asked.

Yuki paused for a beat. "Yashiro would be foolish to toss away any extra blades by leaving them unattended with an angry mob. Besides, what I have planned will be plenty to mollify them."

Right. That.

"Will you be fine to speak?" Yuki asked, and John hesitantly nodded.

"It's not like I have to say much," he said.

"Good," she said, but her expression softened momentarily. "If it gets too much, just tap my leg," she quietly offered.

"Thank you, Yuki," he responded. As they were getting close to a window, she stopped, and he kept walking, ignoring the sickeningly sweet smell coming from the next room over. It was a pretty shit first order for Yosuke, but he didn't seem to mind terribly. John didn't believe he would ever see a man who looked like a half-melted bruise look so jaunty, but such was life.

A lot of people were outside. There must have been damn near everyone in the village crowding the street, a seething mass of humanity crammed shoulder by shoulder, murmuring and muttering almost a dull roar like an ocean against rocky cliffs. The only thing holding them back from the building was a small but dense line of the local militia, not so much threatening them back but more acting like a solid wavebreak for them to lap against. Thankfully, they didn't seem unruly, but more tense, hopeful, perhaps, like people peaking out of their homes after a hurricane.

Eyes, so many damned eyes, slowly locked onto him like he was a bear who had just wandered into a business meeting, a wave of encroaching quiet spreading over the mob.

He took a deep breath and collected his thoughts, reviewing what he had rehearsed in his head as he fought the urge to scan the crowd for marauding kitsune. Kiku being here wouldn't change their plans, and even if she wasn't she'd somehow find out anyhow. Besides, now that he was thinking more about it, it probably was a bad idea to give away that he could find her before they were prepared for a fight.

"Thank you all for coming here," he greeted, putting on a gentle smile. He made sure to speak loudly, so his voice carried, but not shout. His throat immediately started to hurt. "I'm sure you have heard the rumours by now, but let me confirm them. The tax collectors have been acting out of line and have been dealt with."

Silence held for a moment.

Then, a tsunami of sheer noise.

It was like he stepped into a party at full tilt as voices joined into a chorus of cheers and shouts, a dull roar spreading like a wave across the surface of a still pond.

Even up here, the noise hurt his ears as people somehow got even louder, and they started almost vibrating in place, looking around and conversing with one another, bouncing almost like someone tossed a handful of rocks into a pond.

He waited for them to quiet down.

Then waited some more.

And then he kept waiting, but they only got louder, starting to press against one another.

Sighing, he loaded the lightning focus into his gauntlet, aimed up to the sky, and fired a small bolt that, nonetheless, produced a loud crack and flash.

More than a few people screamed.

"Thank you," John said. "Unfortunately, that was not the only announcement we had for today. Unfortunately, this is not the end. My Lady Yuki has a few things to say."

And John turned, bowing deeply to Yuki, who wasn't visible to the people on the streetfrom the vantage point, and stepped aside.

"Thank you, Lord Hall," she said, voice regal, confident, and forceful as she took the stage, tails fanned out behind her.

He couldn't see the people on the street anymore but could hear that it was as still as the grave.

"People of Broadstream. Do you remember the old accords, the Grand Bargain? It has been many a long millennia since it was struck, since the days when the gods up high decreed that the yokai and mortals would be forever apart. For your devotion, protection from the worst of us. For your sacrifices, the blood of animal spirits in your veins," she spoke, her voice casting, echoing.

John's heart caught in his throat.

He had heard the term before, but to listen to it defined…

Things started to click about why people had animal features and mild magical powers, suddenly mentally linking it to Rin's draconic features.

"You may have guessed, but why a kitsune, a messenger of the gods themselves, is speaking to you right now is that this deal was violated. Monsters stalk your woods that wish to violate the natural order! These tax collectors worked not on behalf of your Emperor, but for them!" As she spoke longer, her tone became more energetic and angry, like a raging inferno bubbling under her skin.

"I say no more! I will make things right! I will see each and every one of them dead, corpse bleached under sunlight!" she borderline screamed to the crowd, frantic energy starting to build amongst the people once more. It was subtle, almost invisible… but John could feel it too, righteous anger thundering against his chest as Yuki nigh invisibly flexed her Presence to work over the crowd, her already potent charisma magically amplified as they were drawn inevitably into states of furious rapture.

Pointedly, she didn't mention that they were Nameless or a rogue kitsune to avoid escalating it to a degree where Kiku and the spiders would feel the need to attack immediately to prevent any leaks to the greater world.

Still, they cheered, shouted, and chanted, unaware of the true nature of their peril.

"While I hunt them, you shall protect your homes. If you have any experience, go to Sergeant Yashiro. I will make sure you're equipped. The surviving tax collectors will join you, a sentence of servitude for their crimes. For the remainder…"

The kitsune turned and shot John a sympathetic look.

Silently, John turned and walked away, into an empty hall as Yuki left for the previously closed room, slick with the sweet smell of rot.

It was hard to miss the wild cheering when she returned, dumping several tax collectors' bodies out of the window with a sickening thump.

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