Volume 02, Story 8
Chino and Homeboy are mashing buttons through Kung Fu Master while Chuy and Rawr wrestle on the floor like sugar-fueled toddlers. Hunger strikes. King Taco is the answer, but Rawr and Chuy are banned from the premises: “Rawr eating all the food and then turning the manager into a ferret was not cool, eh.” In line, Homeboy locks onto a Japanese man with a black tactical bag and a samurai sword. He slides into the next table. “Are you a ninja?” The Man of Iga turns his head, says nothing, and returns to his burrito. Homeboy struts back, smug: “Fuckin’ told you!” Chino doesn’t look up.
In the parking lot, Chuy’s legs dangle out the Gremlin’s back window while Rawr grips the steering wheel from the driver’s seat. “Ya ni chingan.” Chino’s phone rings mid-chaos: Thomas is hosting a barbecue. At the park, the “no dogs” sign draws a shrug: “But Rawr isn’t a dog.” Thomas, Ingrid, and Hugo are working the coals when the Man of Iga walks up, glowing a deep, ominous red. Homeboy retreats behind the group: “Hugo… I think he wants to talk to you.” Hugo’s hands light up. The Man of Iga draws his sword in one elegant motion, and the fight is on.
Hugo hurls light balls; the blade slices them in half. Chino and Homeboy sprint back from the Gremlin in tactical paintball vests, radios clipped, custom guns loaded. “Weapons hot.” “No seas pendejo. We’re shooting paintballs, not bullets.” Thomas catches a fist square in the face. A Light Swipe carves into tree bark with a sizzling hiss. Hugo lands a flaming fist to the swordsman’s head, paintballs splatter from both sides, and the Man of Iga’s glow builds to a blinding explosion. He hangs suspended midair, arms outstretched. Thomas snatches up the fallen sword. Then Rawr snaps his fingers, and “the Man of Iga dropped to the ground like a puppet with cut strings.” Everyone stares. Rawr just grins, wicked and proud.
Over barbecue, the truth comes out. His wife’s name was Sakura, and a Yokai took Thomas’s form before killing her. He cannot speak his true name; doing so would alert the demon. “Órale! Like Voldemort but in reverse.” The nickname negotiations fail in sequence: Iga? No. Moi? No. “Ninja dude?” No. “This is going to be hard comms, ese.” He studies Rawr and names him Inugami, dog spirit. “Oh! That’s not a dog. That’s a Duende. The Dog Whisperer already told us it’s not a dog.” He asks the not-dog to hunt the Yokai through the spirit world. Rawr vanishes in a swirling cloud of black and purple mist that smells, per Hugo and Ingrid, “like someone puked and farted out of their asshole at the same time.” Only Chuy keeps calmly eating.
Rawr’s tracking leads to the docks at night. The crew goes in blacked out, war paint on, Chuy in tactical shorts, Rawr pitch black from fur to fang. Killian carries a sword beside the Man of Iga. Thomas’s plan runs through everyone’s heads: Chuy walks the gangplank, lays out the two Minions, and Rawr’s mist swallows them whole. The deck fight rolls through the hold to Lethal Weapon 2 references and spreading formation, until a slow mocking clap echoes from the dark. “Well done. Well done.” General Pain steps into the moonlight. “I wasn’t expecting you to bring a posse. I should thank you.” “Thank me for what?” “Not you… him.” He points at the Man of Iga. The accusations fly: setup, counter-setup, everybody pointing at everybody, until General Pain throws his arms wide: “Enough! It was all my doing! No one set anybody up. I’m not going to let any of you take credit for my fucking genius.”
Then his true form comes out. He swells to ten times his size, scales splitting through tearing flesh, tentacles writhing from his back. The Man of Iga mutters, “Akuma no jōshi.” Homeboy points at the tentacles: “I’ve seen this cartoon. He’s going to fuck us with those things!” Paintballs go down his throat and into his eyes: “YAAARGH!” Hugo’s light balls take his legs out. Killian slashes his arm open from the shadows. The Man of Iga charges, glowing, and drives his sword straight through General Pain’s chest. “For Sakura.” Light spills from the demon’s eyes and mouth as cracks split his scaled body. “Take cover!” Everyone hits the deck except Rawr, who stands trembling and sweating, containing the blast with his magic. General Pain explodes, and instead of raining debris, the swirling cloud absorbs every fragment. The remains collapse inward, drawn into the Man of Iga’s sword. General Pain is dead.
On the main deck under the moonlight, the crew slouches against the bulkhead, passing joints, smoke curling into the night air. Chino takes a deep hit. “I love it when a plan comes together.”
Featuring Chino, Homeboy, Chuy, Rawr, Thomas, Ingrid, Hugo, The Man of Iga, General Pain, Killian.
Read the full story in The Adventures of Chino & Homeboy, Volume 02