Author's notes: Greetings, my loyal readers, as well as all newcomers. I have found myself with a peculiar idea that kept punching it's way into my head from time to time. Just how did the M.O.N. taskforce come to be as we know it today? Here is my attempt at answering this question, non canon, of course. I, as usual, do not own any known characters from the manga or anime titled Monster Musume no iru Nichijou, except for my own ideas of new characters, who were not featured in either original works of art so far. As always, I hope you enjoy this story, read and review if you'd like and I wish you a nice time reading overall.
It was a quiet night, like few others in the past few weeks. Smith liked these nights. On these rare occasions, she could almost forget about the city outside. The city under her protection. Well, concerning a large sum of the mamono entry into Japan, rather. She was a coordinator in this exchange program, so she was most often tasked with work, in her opinion, more befitting a slave in terms of quantity. It was rare for her to even get some nice coffee with that nice young man and his lamia exchange student, let alone enjoy an entire evening to herself, off from duty and out in her home city. Except, tonight was not really one of those nights.
„Coordinator Smith!" an angry, rather impatient voice called into the phone as she held it to her ear. A voice she knew all too well to realize she could wave her goodbyes to that peaceful evening she wished for. It was the police chief. And, like always, he needed help.
Not that it was anything new. Smith was often tasked with helping the work of the police with concerns raised about the new interspecies laws, which supposedly varranted the large amount of sudden and rather impatient phonecalls demanding she appear for duty during her off times these days. With a sigh, she agreed to join the chief as soon as possible, the hung up, taking a sip from what she previously thought to be her last coffee for the day. Well, this is a new system. It will eventually settle into its rightful place and people like her will have less to worry about, not to mention, less overtime to do, after a while. At least that thought kept her optimistic, if not really enthusiastic during her working hours.
The coordinator's shoes clicked against the hard floor of the main hallway leading into the chief's office. There she was, ready for duty on this nice, seemingly peaceful evening. With a sour expression on her face, disguised with a neutral one, as well as her sunglasses. Oh, how she hated these times. Not that she liked most of the other aspects of her job, seeing as it was more of a mandatory task to handle interspecies relations, rather than something she volunteered for. And the money she received for her work was barely enough for it to even be called minimal wage. 'The feeling of accomplishment while doing such a great service for one's country should compensate for any irritation from financial problems, agent.' Her boss would always say, once he spotted the frown on her face upon receiving the news of yet another request for a pay raise being rejected. „Yeah, you can take that feeling of accomplishment and stuff it, Aho. Say that to people, who are paid more than me." The woman murmured to herself.
Upon reaching the chief's office, the woman could already hear the loud argument going on inside. Quietly opening the door, slipping inside and leaning against the wall, as she listened to the amusing dialogue going on between the man and someone Smith recognized as one of the politicians responsible for the interspecies relations act. Of course. What else would she be called in if not this again? Though, it was amusing to observe the disagreement between the two men. While the chief argued that law enforcement should not be 'hogtied' by a diplomatic treaty seeking to preserve peace between nations and species, but each argument he attempted to use was always subdued by the politician's mention of the sad fact, that since the law was created in such a rushed manner, it still describes any violent behavior against extra species people by humans as a crime, no matter who commits it and vice versa. As humorous it was, Smit herself had to admit it was a sad truth. Loopholes could be and always were exploited in every law, so she could understand the irritation expressed by the police on numerous occasions.
„A-anyway, that is what I called age-I mean-coordinator Smith here as well. She can explain from her personal experience that there are problems with the law that need to be fixed. Soon." Suddenly, the chief said, gesturing towards the black haired woman, drawing the other man's gaze onto her in the process. „I have worked with her on several occasions and she too shared my views on your...work with this law." He said, taking the almost empty coffee mug from his desk and taking a short sip, sighing as the politician now focused on Smith for information.
„Well, I can certainly say that there are mistakes with the law. That makes enforcing the law itself harder, so I agree that some changes should be made." She began, seeing the policeman nod in approval, as well as his talking partner taking on a frown of frustration, thinking he would receive the same thing the two of them have been arguing about for possibly hours, if not more. But then, Smith said something different. „However, I also understand that it will take time and effort to make changes that could actually fix our problems, not leaving loopholes behind." The coordinator pointed out, putting a hand to her mouth to appear in thought, lest she communicate her desire to leave this room immediately. „So for the time being, we can do little more than work hard to uphold the order until the mistakes are corrected." She explained, earning a small, uncomfortable nod from both men.
„Still, to end up in a situation similar to Lethal Weapon 2? Disgraceful." The police chief replied with a sigh, for once earning a nod from the politician too. For all the disagreements on how the changes should be made or how quickly they should be implemented, the two at least agreed on the fact that they were much needed, Smith thought.
Suddenly, someone tapped her arm and the coordinator looked at the young officer standing next to her, taking notes swiftly. "Uh, what happened in Lethal Weapon 2?" He asked, prompting a sigh from Smith. "The villain uses his diplomatic immunity to escape the police when they already have evidence that he is guilty. The chief is a big fan of the series. I wonder why."
Nevertheless, as the situation only called for her opinion, she frowned slightly that she was called in for solving a simple argument. From his tone during the phone call, the woman assumed the entire police station was attacked by Jiang-Shi or something similar. „So, if that will be it, I shall take my leave, chief. If that is okay with the both of you." She almost asked, rather than said it, glancing at both men in search of confirmation that she could leave them to their own devices.
„Of course, thank you for your help in the argument, coordina-... huh?" The chief began to say, when suddenly, a loud noise interrupted his sentence. It was like a siren, loud and grating to the ears, which perfectly served its original purpose. To inform all of those inside of the danger approaching. „The alarm!" Smith exclaimed, reaching for her handgun and moving out through the door in order to check what the alert was about. She did not care if either of the two men wanted to say something else, as she wasn't under the chief's command and she had a feeling that this was more her department, rather than the simple officers stationed here. An attack on this place simply made no sense, not to mention that the coordinator could simply feel this was not an everyday criminal attack or gang activity. Somehow, she could tell this would be her job to deal with.
Upon reaching the lower floor, Smith was shocked to see what a battleground the ground level was turned into. The main doors were broken down, as if a battering ram was shot into it from a cannon. The floor was littered with bullet casings and discarded firearms and batons, as well as some unconscious officers, while the people still standing did their best to try and hold down a lone woman. To say that the black haired woman was shocked to see a single person knocking out one trained officer after the other, would have been an understatement. She could not understand how she managed it, but the attacker seemingly ignored all hits from batons and bullets, knocking out one opponent after another. Her body moved with seemingly superhuman speed, strength and precision, allowing her to even disarm some of her opponents and use their weapons against them. It almost seemed like-…then it hit her, as soon as she noticed the stitches, the discoloured eyes whenever the woman turned towards her and her seemingly superhuman abilities. Smith knew what to do. Or at least what this woman was now.
„Hey!" She exclaimed as she approached the stranger, drawing her attention away from the officer she was about to slam to the ground, aiming her handgun at her head. "Drop the...uh…policeman and put your hands up, miss. What you are doing is against the interspecies act and therefore, illegal. I'd like you to stand down and allow the authorities to take action." Smith spat her protocol phrases, hoping that this would work. Though, she wasn't sure that talking could discourage someone, who shrugged off baton strikes and as she saw it, even bullets. And she was proven right, as the arms continued to slam the poor man against the floorboards, earning a groan from him, before the woman slowly, almost as if she was unsure, turned and began advancing towards the coordinator. Yeah. Great.
The gun was fired at the assailant, aiming at the legs instead of it's original target, the head, in order to wound, but not kill. Seemingly shrugging off every single bullet impact, the woman suddenly ran at Smith, launching her fist right at her face, with the intent to kill if necessary clearly visible in her eyes. With a quick dodge to the side, the government agent grabbed the wrist of her opponent, using her own momentum against her to launch the scarred body into one of the desks, crushing it upon impact. Brushing some dust off of her suit jacket, Smith took up a combat stance, ready to wrestle the mamono into submission, if she needed to. 'I don't recognize her. She's either a runaway from someone else or a newcomer. Great, just what I needed.' She thought, taking a deep breath.
Her brain searched for a good way to settle this without killing the attacker and seemingly found the right was, as the unknown assailant slowly got to her feet and continued advancing towards the coordinator, tilting her head slightly, as if to study Smith's appearance. Then, one of her fists shot forward again, this time with speed and strength only allowing the agent to dodge to the side and roll away.
"Quick, someone give me a tazer!" Smith called out to the still conscious officers. Her opponent immediately turned around, grabbing one of the chairs in the process and slamming it against the woman's quickly raised defensive arm, knocking her back and down to the ground with a sickening crack and a yelp of pain from her.
Advancing on her enemy with a slow, steady pace, the red haired woman looked down on the coordinator, raising her makeshift weapon to most likely strike a lethal blow. This was bad. Nothing was working on her it seemed and it did not appear that trying to reason with the girl again was a valid way to settle the situation. And, taking from the strength she slammed the chair against her forearm that the metal broke the bone, Smith could easily imagine a blow to the head from that would be deadly. She did not imagine her career ending this way, but Hell, at least she did some good to monsters, who deserved it. That's it. She was here, raising that thing above her head. Those dead eyes fixed onto the black haired woman, her arm getting ready to slam the deadly instrument against her head.
And then…
A small thing hit her right thigh and upon looking down, Smith noticed it was a police tazer thrown by one of the others. Not waiting for her opponent to continue, the coordinator grabbed it, turned it on and immediately jammed it against the thigh of the girl, earning a loud, almost scream-like yelp from her, as the electricity ran through her body for a time, until Smith withdrew the weapon, prompting her attacker to drop the chair and fall limply to the ground, seemingly dead. The black haired woman let out a breath she had no idea she was holding, as her eyes scanned the limp, corpse-like body of this strange girl, sighing in relief, then immediately hissing in pain, as her broken forearm was pressed against the desk she sat against on accident. So not all of the others were neutralized in the attack. Just in time.
After a few seconds, two officers came running into the room, handguns raised, checking on the unconscious assailant and the coordinator herself. One of them helped her up, while the other, with tremendous effort, grabbed and pulled the red haired girl up, after cuffing her hands behind her in an effort to contain her, if she woke up.
„That won't do for long when she wakes up, trust me. I suggest you use something stronger." Smith told the policeman, patting the back of the one that helped her up, signaling her gratefulness and the fact that she did not need help standing. Only her forearm was broken, afterall. „Do you have any of those new experimental cuffs designed for stronger human sized monsters, like Jiang-Shi or zombies? You will need that with this one." She explained, gesturing towards the innards of the station, prompting one of the officers to rush away to get it, while the other deposited the knocked out body onto a chair, hoping for their lives the girl would not wake up before being cuffed with stronger equipment.
„What… what is she, coordinator?" The remaining officer asked, scratching his head in confusion. „She looks…relatively human, though taking from how she messed up the place, I doubt she is. But what mamono looks like this?" Instead of an explanation, Smith merely pointed at the various stitches on the sleeping girl's body, earning a nod and a confused shrug from the policeman.
„She is a special type of undead, taking from her appearance, as well as combat abilities. And the way she responded when I talked to her. She is what most coordinators call „Frankensteins" but she is closer to a zombie. Only, usually, girls of this species have a higher level of intelligence than you'd expect from most zombies." She continued with the explanation, putting her left hand to her mouth in thought, tilting her head. „From what I've seen, she has only recently been raised from the dead and therefore, is not entirely content with her new life…unlife. What matters is, this often causes confusion, blind fury and a general loss of sense, until calmed and reintroduced to the world. Memories are more often than not lost, with small glimpses remaining, so don't even try to ask her where she came from or how she came to be like this."
„But if she's an undead, how come you could you knock her out with the tazer?" The officer asked, upon spotting the three small darts still embedded into the shoulder of their opponent. "I mean, zombies don't exactly have something to stun that could take them out, so how?" He asked in confusion, prompting a small chuckle from Smith. "Just like in the movies, the brain controls everything. The one big thing controlling everything in her body. She can't be tranqed, yes, but if you use enough electricity in the right spot, the shock reaches her brain and overloads her nervous system, prompting a blackout long enough for us to take…'preventative measures.'" She concluded, letting out a sigh. "Yeah, they don't tell you these things unless you join the exchange security, usually."
After the policewoman returned with the larger handcuffs, that seemingly looked like they were an entire straightjacket in and of themselves and attached them to the arms of the girl, making them overlap the cuffs originally put on her wrists, the coordinator allowed one of the arriving paramedics to set her arm with splints, put it in plaster and some other thing the woman could not quite pay attention to. Luckily, the bone did not need surgery, seeing as it did not break into shards and could easily be treated without a trip to the hospital necessary. Not like Smith would have allowed anything like that. Not now, at least. She needed to stay here. She had work to do. And she needed to be the one to do it.
For all her laziness and ability to escape her tasks as often as she could, even her superiors had to admit that when it came to understanding mamono behavior, Smith was better than anyone else. She understood not only mamono, but people in general, seemingly as soon as she met them, perfectly. She had a talent with this. So, to solve this situation without an additional bloodbath or any irritation between the police force and the undead community, she was needed. And an idea was forming in her head on how to solve this. A ridiculous idea, but an idea none the less.
After about an hour of waiting, the uninvited guest slowly opened her eyes and looked around, a confused and scared expression on her face. She still felt slightly dizzy from the three tranquilizer shots Smith unloaded into her body, but she still had enough strength to strain against her confines, letting out a few sounds that seemed to signal things between surprise, confusion, fear and anger, as well as a strong desire to be set free again. But Smith had no intentions to do that. Instead, she approached the girl and crouched slightly so the two of them would be eye level to each other. She looked the undead over, noting her outfit of a black tank top, a brown jacket, blue jeans and brown boots. At least her style matched her nature, if she was honest.
"Hello. Don't worry. You will not be hurt. Please, calm down. Do you understand me?" She asked, though she was quite unsure she could be 'hurt' in the usual sense, seeing as zombies could not feel pain usually. Nevertheless, she wanted to comfort this girl. "I know you feel confused and lost, but please, I can help you. My name is Smith and I help people like you." She said, taking off her sunglasses and looking into the undead's mismatched eyes with a soft smile, taking on a persona she did not use often. It was unneeded most of the time. Yet, she seemed to be good at this, seeing as the girl slowly nodded, looking back into her eyes, her own unblinking red and green orbs flashing with newfound curiosity.
"I'm sorry, but you are, in a sense, dead. That is why you can't remember anything and why your body is like this." She continued, noticing a small wince on the face of the undead girl, but after a nod of understanding, she smiled slightly, before taking on a serious expression again. "I'm sorry. I cannot undo what happened to you, but I can help you find yourself a new place in this world. If you would like, of course. I can enlist you in a program that can give you a home, and if you'd like, a purpose." She said, earning a tilt of the undead's head and her eyes averted in thought.
The undead contemplated her situation. As Smith saw, she had nothing to lose and lots to gain from her idea. She could help her out, either by giving her a home at a host if her idea didn't work, or… seeing as her strength was at superhuman levels, while her cognitive abilities seemed to be equal to humans, could be very useful for the exchange security.
Then, after a time, she received another nod. Smiling, Smith gently patted her shoulder, rising back. "You can take off the cuffs." She told the policemen, who went to remove the bindings, much to the dismay of the chief. "Are you insane, coordinator? If we let her go, she-" He practically fumed, clearly wanting the undead to be buried instead of released. "I will be personally responsible for her. I will be taking over this case and taking care of it, so don't you worry about her." Smith interrupted, prompting the officers to resume their work in freeing the chained undead. After she was released, she turned around slightly, rubbing her wrists and looking at the policemen with an apologetic look. "See?" The coordinator questioned, putting her sunglasses back on and proceeding to walk outside, gently grabbing the undead by the shoulder and leading her outside, towards her own car, leaving the chief to sigh and turn his attention to assessing the damages.
"Don't worry about them. I'll take you to a safe place." She said, opening the door for the undead, then closing it after she sat in. After getting in herself, she asked, while starting the car. "I need to ask you, though, can you remember your name? I know your memories of your former life must be almost nonexistent at this point, but can you remember anything? Maybe I can find out why you became what you are today." She asked, driving them away. She received a firm shake of the head as an answer, though, as the zombie girl looked out through the window, as if in thought. Then, she turned back toward the coordinator suddenly, a newfound determination on her pale face.
"I…I can't remember my name... you know what... call me... call me Zombina." she said with a grin.