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Goemon stalked through the halls of the museum. His eyes flicked from shadow to shadow, ready to react at the first sign of the one he was hunting. Normally, he found the quiet of an empty museum comforting, a good sign. Now he wished the lights were on.
He reached the main hall, a junction of three wings of priceless art and artifacts. He flicked Zantetsuken slightly out of its saya and laid his hand on the grip. The wood conformed to the shape of his hand. The moment of truth had arrived.
“Come out, demon!” he shouted. “Come and face me!”
Silence.
Goemon’s nerves were drawn as tight as a bow string as the seconds ticked by. They had determined this was the best location in the museum for a confrontation. The glass dome skylight would allow enough light into the hall to see, and there would be enough open space to minimize the possibility of an ambush. Hopefully, his opponent would be too arrogant to ignore the very obviously baited trap.
Or… maybe it was too smart.
“Well, well. If it isn’t the little samurai.”
Arrogance it was then.
Goemon spun to face the source of the voice. His heart skipped a beat as a familiar figure gracefully jumped down from a display case where he hadn’t been before. The figure approached, its red jacket illuminated by the light filtering down from the skylight above.
Lupin grinned. “What brings you here, little samurai? Do you need another demonstration?”
It was not Lupin. It smiled with Lupin’s smile. It spoke with Lupin’s voice. But the thing inside the body of Lupin the Third was not Lupin. It was something else, something much darker.
Goemon shifted his stance. “I will give you one chance,” he said. “Leave. Him.”
The thing inside Lupin threw its head back and laughed. There was an edge of darkness to the laughter. “You are giving me a warning?” chortled the demon. “Please. We’ve already established you are no match for me. Or do you not remember?”
Goemon was slammed back against the wall. He groaned as the invisible force pushed so hard that the plaster started to crack. He couldn’t move; he could barely breathe. He heard Jigen’s gun go off once, and then the heavy thud of the gunman hitting a different wall. Fujiko was shouting.
“Leave them… alone…” Goemon growled, pushing against the force pinning his body to the wall like a bug on corkboard.
The thing in the center of the room just laughed.
Goemon drew Zantetsuken. The blade gleamed in the dim light like a beacon of silver.
“I have not forgotten."
The thing inside Lupin rested his arm above Goemon’s head and leaned in. “So you want to be the first?” it purred into his ear. “Very well, little samurai. How does the saying go? Live by the sword, die by the sword.”
Rage bubbled up through Goemon’s blood as he watched the thing reach down and pick up Zantetsuken. He could hear Fujiko and Jigen shouting as his world narrowed down to just him and the creature inhabiting his friend’s body. How dare that, that thing touch Zantetsuken. How dare it defile the sword. The thing, the demon, just smiled and pointed Zantetsuken’s point at Goemon’s chest.
“I am not afraid to die,” Goemon said quietly. A truth and a lie.
“Your mistake,” hissed the demon.
It went to drive Zantetsuken into Goemon’s heart, but the thrust never came. Smoke began to rise from the hand holding the sword, and it dropped the sword with a roar of pain. Whatever force was holding Goemon, Jigen, and Fujiko suddenly dropped. Goemon swiftly picked up his fallen sword and slammed the hilt into the back of Lupin’s head before making his escape.
“Good, neither have I,” said the demon, pretending not to notice the blade. “I will at least make your death somewhat meaningful, little samurai, so you can face your ancestors and say you tried.”
“I will kill you before then,” Goemon replied.
The demon laughed. “Kill me? Your little pig sticker might be able to hurt me, but the only one you’ll end up killing is your friend.”
The demon held out it’s hand. An ornate saber flew through the air and landed in its palm. It ran its finger along the blade, and as it did so a dark stain spread through the steel like ink. Once the steel was completely black, the demon gave it a quick flourish.
“En gard,” warned the demon, then attacked.
The demon struck with lightning speed, the power sending shock waves up Goemon’s arms. He managed to parry the demon’s strikes before finding an opening and lashing out with his own. The demon parried and dodged as the two came together in crashes of steel.
It had been a long time since Goemon had faced an opponent of his skill and caliber, or a blade that could resist Zantetsuken’s edge. It was exhilarating. The two battled through the main hall and into one of the galleries, striking and dancing around each other. A few display cases and viewing couches were casualties of their battle, but none of the art pieces or artifacts were harmed by the fight. Goemon wasn’t sure if that was on purpose or by accident, nor did he care. He was too preoccupied with his opponent.
It took a few minutes, but Goemon was first to draw blood. It was a small wound to the side, not deep but several centimeters long. The demon pulled away, hissing as the cut sizzled and spat like a grease fire for a few seconds. It turned its attention back to Goemon, eyes dark with rage. It lashed out, blows coming so fast and hard that Goemon was forced onto the defensive, moving and blocking on pure instinct. Finally, the demon found its own opening and sliced across Goemon’s right bicep. Goemon grunted in pain and stumbled slightly, allowing the demon an opening for it to plant its foot on his torso and kick him with enough force to throw Goemon into a wall between two paintings.
“Would you like to know your friend is watching?” asked the demon as Goemon slowly picked himself up. He winced; the museum’s wall hadn’t been as forgiving as the one back at the hideout. Judging from the pain, he had two cracked ribs. Not good.
“Or that he wants you to kill him?” The Demon rushed forward. Goemon managed a sloppy parry, but the demon’s blade caught him on the thigh, forcing him to disengage.
“He’s in here right now,” added the demon, tapping Lupin’s head. “Cheering you on, knowing full well your victory means his death.”
“He knows what is at stake,” Goemon growled. He continued to retreat. He had to bring the battle back to the main hall. “Please, Lupin, fight this!”
“Please, Lupin!” mocked the demon in a sing-song voice. “Trust me, he is, but I’m stronger. Much stronger.”
The two combatants crashed together again. Goemon got the distinct feeling that the demon was toying with him now. He managed to land another hit, but the demon ignored it and retaliated with one of its own. Wounded and tiring quickly, they both knew Goemon wouldn’t last much longer.
Knowing his victory was at hand, the demon kept pressing the advantage. A powerful strike sent Goemon flying again, and he slid across the marble floor of the main hall. Goemon’s vision whited out in pain as he fought to maintain consciousness.
“Do you know what I’ll do when I’m through with you?” bragged the demon as he strode towards the fallen Goemon. “I’m going to find that chain-smoking gunslinger and have him eat his own gun and pull the trigger. I’m going to strip that woman and make her…”
Out of nowhere, Lupin’s right hand formed a fist and delivered a haymaker to his face, snapping his head to the side and throwing the demon off balance. Goemon struggled to his knees, leaning on Zantetsuken as the man across from him looked up. The jet-black irises had lightened to fear-tinged gray. “G-Goemon?”
“Lupin!” Goemon pushed himself up. He wobbled a bit, but remained standing. He switched Zantetsuken to his left hand, his right arm all but useless.
Lupin’s face crumpled in pain and one eye started to turn black again. “I-I can’t hold it!” he shouted. “Please! Goemon, you… do it. Do it now!”
Goemon hesitated. “Lupin I…”
“You have to!” Lupin begged. “P-please! I… you have… to!”
He screamed as black surged into both of Lupin’s eyes and the demon reasserted its control. The demon grinned. “Interesting. I’ll have to keep that in mind. Now, where were we?”
Goemon managed a few more blocks and parries, but he was too weak from pain and blood loss to keep up. Zantetsuken was forced from his hand and went skittering across the floor. An invisible force with the strength of iron lifted Goemon helplessly off the ground and once again pressed him up against the wall. He didn't have the energy to fight it. Just a little longer...
“I must say, this has been fun, little samurai,” said the demon as it placed its blade to Goemon’s neck. The blade was as cold as ice. “Do you have any last words for your friend?”
The black in one eye melted back into gray. Tears welled up in it.
Goemon swallowed. The demon’s sword scraped against his skin. “My job is done.”
The demon’s brow furled in confusion, then raised in alarmed understanding. Before it could react, two water balloons struck it in the back. It screamed and reeled backwards. Steam rose from Lupin’s body. Jigen followed up with two more well-aimed balloons, and Fujiko fired off her own. Goemon dropped to the floor and tried to scramble towards Zantetsuken. Zenigata emerged from behind a pillar holding the lacquered puzzle box that had started this entire ordeal. He pulled out a piece of paper and started chanting.
“No! NO!” screamed the demon. “I won’t! You can’t!”
Goemon climbed to his feet. “Let him go.”
The demon screeched. “Never! I won’t! I’ll kill you! I’ll kill all of you!”
Jigen and Fujiko’s water balloons went wide and Goemon was nearly knocked from his feet by a powerful blast of wind. Zenigata managed to keep hold of the box and paper, now shouting to be heard above the din. In the center of the chaos, the demon and Lupin screamed. As Zenigata spoke that last word, there was a sucking sound and a shadow was pulled out of Lupin and into the box. Zenigata slammed the lid shut. Lupin dropped to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut, and Goemon wasn’t that far behind him.
“Did it work?” Fujiko shouted down from the upper landing.
Zenigata took a shaky breath. “I think so.”
Jigen leaned over the railing. “Goemon! You good?”
“I will be,” Goemon called out. He mustered enough strength to crawl over to Lupin’s fallen form. Zenigata joined him and carefully flipped Lupin onto his back. The inspector started checking his vitals.
“I’ve got a pulse,” Zenigata said. “And he’s breathing. He’s alive at least.”
“Lupin?” Goemon shook the thief’s shoulder. “Lupin?”
Lupin moaned and stirred. He blinked wearily. “G-G’mon? Pops…?”
“Yes,” Goemon replied. “Are you yourself again?”
Lupin managed a weak nod. “I’m me.”
“Good.” Goemon batted him on the side of the head. “Never do that again.”
“Agreed," Lupin said.