Shinjuku, Tokyo is a sprawling, metropolitan landscape that provides a home for millions of people. These homes range from honest to goodness houses, apartments, condominiums, duplexes, triplexes, back alleys, freeway overpasses, covered waterways, the Limitless Fortress, and many others. However, there are only two individuals that call a Subaru 360 home. This 'home' was currently parked in one of the small green areas of Shinjuku. The only occupant still sleeping there was about to have another in a long string of rude awakenings.

"WAKE UP, GINJI!" This shout was accompanied by a blonde man groggily blinking the sleep from his eyes flying through the air, and landing headfirst into a small pond. After a brief electrical surge in the water, visible from the sparks dancing on the surface, the blond resurfaced spluttering and trying to regain his breath. Slowly making his way back to shore, Ginji watched Ban on the shore of the pond picking out some fish that were floating atop the water.

"Ban-chan! Why do you always wake me up like that?! And put those fish back! They're not ours!" Ginji protested after dragging himself halfway out of the water.

Ban looked over at his partner, careful not to dump his armload of fish (or 'breakfast' as he preferred to call it) and said caustically, "Oh, have I upset the Prince's sleepy-time once more? Oh, dear! So unfortunate that the day began without his permission." At Ginji's reddening expression, Ban scowled, "You already know why I wake you up unpleasantly all the time! You won't wake up with anything less! Now get some breakfast from the pond. I started a fire before I hucked you in."

Frowning in his petulant, kiddy way, Ginji repeated, "But they're not our fish! We can't just take them!"

Rolling his eyes at his partner's naivety, Ban replied, "Ginji, they're not doing anyone good floating around dead. Besides, why let your handiwork go to waste?"

Ginji's eyes widened considerably at that, and he protested most vehemently, "MY handiwork? Ban, you threw me in knowing what was going to happen! It's your fault they're dead!"

Turning away from the blond, Ban simply shrugged his shoulders, "Whatever. Takes two to tango. Now get some breakfast! We got a long day of advertising ahead of us!"

Opening his mouth to protest again, Ginji closed it with a sigh. Sometimes, his best friend could be so… controversial.

********************************

Paul, owner of the Honky Tonk Bar, sighed contentedly as he read his newspaper. It was an early edition of tomorrows Shinjuku Daily, something he got delivered special every night thanks to a contact he'd made years ago. Paul was a man who prided himself on knowing as much as possible about the goings-on of his city, and was rarely out of the loop. His tranquil mood was brought to an abrupt halt as two figures came barging into through his door, with a familiar greeting of, "Yo!"

Scrunching his face into his most common annoyed expression he turned to the two freeloading recovery service members and said shortly, "No. Get out."

Growling slightly, Ban slammed his hand onto the counter of the small restaurant-bar, and said lowly, "We've spent the whole day trying to find a job, alright?! The least you can do is hear us out before you start telling us to leave!"

Scowling now, Paul slammed his own hand onto the counter and proclaimed, "No! Get out!" Before the intense staring match could get out of hand, Ginji interposed himself sheepishly between the two.

"Sorry Paul, but we really have had a long da—" Well, he tried to, before Ban shoved him forcefully underneath the counter.

"Shut up Eel! The Get Backers don't grovel!" He resumed staring and growling at Paul, who did the same thing right back. Before they were interrupted again.

Ban felt a tingling on the hand holding Ginji before he heard the blond shout, "Ban! You're so MEAN!" After that he was reintroduced to the feel of electrocution, first hand (so to speak).

After Ginji was satisfied with a twitching Ban lying on the ground, Paul spoke again, "Well, I guess if your day's been that bad, I could treat you to a pizza."

Instantly recovered, Ban put his arm around Ginji and grinned happily, "Wonderful! A Honky Tonk Special it is!"

Glaring from underneath his shades, Paul made himself clearer, "For Ginji ONLY. I don't serve rude customers!"

Sagging in defeat, Ban was close to using an Evil Eye on Paul for being so stingy when a cheerful feminine voice rang out, "Never fear, Ban-kun! Natsumi will serve you!" Ban lit up once again, clapping his hands in front of his shining eyes before she added, "And for only half the usual price!" This caused Ban to once more sag in defeat.

Before things could get heated again, the door bell jingled softly, admitting a suit-wearing man in sunglasses. His gaze (presumably) landed on Ban immediately after a cursory inspection of the Honky Tonk. In an emotionless, businesslike voice, the man spoke, "Midou Ban. You have been invited to participate in a fighting tournament, called A Survivalist Is You. The tournament will be held at an undisclosed time and location, transportation provided by BORED, Inc. We'll pick you up whenever we feel like it."

With that the man turned and walked from the restaurant, leaving a rather stunned foursome simply staring after him. Usually when something unexpected and probably troublesome happened, it wasn't quite so… obvious. "What the hell was that about? Who did you piss off now?" This from Paul, raising an eyebrow archly at Ban.

Sufficiently distracted from his growling stomach, Ban's eyes narrowed into a serious expression, "Good question. Seems like this BORED, Inc. company is supposed to be putting the thing on. They're providing transportation, and it's all we have to go on. Paul, you mind if I—" Ban was interrupted by the door bell jingling once more.

The four friends turned to the door to see the same suited man from a moment ago standing there, same emotionless face and sunglasses, "I'm here to pick you up."

After a hefty round of sweat drops and face faults, Ban was recovered enough to ask a question, "Who the hell are you? And why should I be in this stupid contest anyway?"

The man responded quickly, "My name is Anonymous Thug 142, but most people call me Chuck. You will participate in this tournament because it's mandatory once you've been invited. Also, I'm told there will be a hefty prize."

At the last sentence, Ban's face went from confrontational and angry to curious, "Prize, eh? What kinda prize?" Now his tone went sarcastic, "I get to live, or something equally ridiculous?"

Again, Chuck replied quickly, "Yes, you'll keep your life," while Ban was in mid eye-roll, Chuck added, "And gain ten million US dollars. From each BORED member."

As if he'd been there the entire time, Ban was right next to Anonymous Thug 142, tapping his foot impatiently, "Well, I thought you were here to pick me up? Let's go!"

Nodding shortly, but not curtly because that cost extra, Chuck turned for the door and began walking, Ban following closely, grinning like a madman. Before they could get out the door, a certain electric eel called out, "Ban!"

Turning an intent, deadly serious gaze onto his partner, Ban waited patiently for Ginji to continue. At his best friend's look, Ginji rethought his words of caution and said instead, "Good luck. Don't die." Unusually for the blonde, his face and tone were totally sober and serious.

Eyes seeming to turn to the slit pupils of a snake for a moment, the B in Get Backers gave a feral grin in response. Then he was out the door.

********************************

After a short ride in a long limo, windows so dark Ban couldn't see out of them, Chuck climbed out with purple-eyed man in tow. Looking around briefly, Ban quickly realized they were on the black tarmac of a private airport, and one that had a jet ready to take off. "This is your transportation to the tournament's location. You'll find sleeping quarters and a fully stocked pantry inside. Please get in so we can get a move on." Apparently Ban himself was the only thing keeping the jet grounded. With a smirk, the young man climbed the steps to plane and entered a lavishly furnished cabin, complete with cute stewardess.

"Oh, you must be Midou-san! Please make yourself comfortable, and let me know if you need anything at all!" Gushed Cute Stewardess 14.

Grinning fully now, Ban plopped himself into a La-Z-Boy recliner, and asked jovially, "Well how 'bout some food, for starters? What ya got?"

Smiling back at the retrieval agent, the BORED attendant said sweetly, "Anything you could possibly want, sir! What can I get you?"

Thinking for a minute, Ban replied, "How about a pizza, with alfredo instead of marinara, pepperoni, jalapeno, sausage, Canadian bacon, and black olives, with an Alaskan Amber to wash it down?"

Still smiling sweetly, C.S. 14 nodded and said, "Of course, Midou-san! Coming right up!"

Somewhat surprised, Ban watched her leave the main cabin and enter a more forward compartment. By the time she came back with a steaming pizza and a frosty pint of beer. Practically salivating, the Genius of Battles dug in almost as soon as the food was laid out on a coffee table bolted to the floor in front of him. In about two minutes flat, the food was gone and the garbage bin was chugging the last of the beer, slamming it to the table with a satisfied sigh when he finished.

The stewardess was looking at him with an expression of utter shock, to which Ban smirked and said, "Never seen anyone eat that fast, have ya?"

Shaking herself briefly, she replied, "No, I just find it amazing you managed to eat all of it before passing out from the knockout agent."

"Drugged?!" Ban exclaimed, trying to shoot to his feet but getting only halfway there before collapsing onto the floor.

Struggling to hang onto his consciousness, he just managed to hear, "Of course! Standard on all BORED airline food unless specified otherwise. Have a nice nap!" Her sickly sweet smile was the last thing Ban saw as he slipped into darkness.

********************************

Groggily, purple eyes fluttered open and stayed half lidded. Some of the drugs were still in his system, and what he was lying on was way too grassy to be in a plane. Struggling to his feet, he made it after a few minutes, taking in his very different surroundings.

On the edge of a forest meadow, roughly twenty feet around, Midou Ban tried to get a grip on the situation. Through his drug-addled mind, he tried to understand what was happening. How he had gone from a plane in Tokyo to a forest in God-knows-where. How he'd managed to get suckered into this mess in the first place!

Oh yeah. A lot of money.

Dammit.