"Where are we, boy?" Genma swiftly landed on a tree branch as a monkey with a scorpion's tail leapt after him. A quick roundhouse kick caught the monkey in mid-air and sent it flying into the dark depths of the forest. A chorus of animalistic screeches came as droves of monkeys came forth to replace the fallen one.

"I think we're in the forest in southern Belarus." Ranma was standing on a branch of a tree while holding up a map. He ducked as a scorpion's tail stabbed into the tree trunk where his head used to be. The tail quickly retracted, but small wisps of smoke rose from the broken bark as the corrosive venom ate through the wood. He used a sweep kick to knock the monkey off its feet, sending the animal tumbling down to the ground floor. He brought up his map again. "I can't figure out where exactly we are. Eastern Europe is pretty rural so there aren't many landmarks on this map."

A chorus of gunfire, far back in the direction they came from, startled the monkeys. They stopped their charge and looked at each other for a moment before they all screeched. Like a receding wave, they abandoned their current targets and headed back towards where the gunshots came from.

"Looks like they're starting to catch up, Pops. You think the monkeys will stop them?"

Genma scoffed. "If killer monkeys was it took, we wouldn't be having so much trouble."

"Yeah, I guess you're—hey!" One of the retreating monkeys grabbed the map out of his hand. It stuck out its tongue before it hopped from tree branch to tree branch to rejoin its companions.

Just as Ranma was about to give chase, Genma grabbed his shoulder. "Don't, boy. Half of Belarus is forested. If I lose sight of you, we won't be able to find each other again."

Ranma looked like he was about to argue, but he thought better of it and relented. "Stupid Eastern European scorpion monkeys."

"We can always get another map at the next town."

Ranma nodded at Genma before they started leaping from branch to branch. In the distance, they could hear the echoes from the rapid firing of rifles.

After the disaster that was the wedding ceremony, life went on. At the moment, however, the Saotome father and son were on the run. Very few things scared them like a debt of 40 billion yen to an heiress from a multinational corporation who wasn't too shy to hire private military companies and bribe governments to hunt them down. Since it was Ranma, it somehow ended in an arranged marriage agreement.

They had been on the run for months, and things still hadn't gotten easier for them. They had traversed across Asia in record time, somehow ending up in this forest in Eastern Europe while they were zig-zagging across the continents to lose their relentless pursuers. Not that it really stopped them from catching up, but it could have been worse.

Genma came to a halt on the branch of a particularly large tree and listened closely, prompting Ranma to stop as well on a nearby one. The forest was densely packed with majestic trees that reached high overhead, their canopies of leaves blotting out much of the sunlight. More importantly, they made it harder to hear anything above, forcing the bald man to strain his ears. He only heard the sounds of the forest's wildlife. After a moment, Genma confirmed his suspicions.

"I don't hear the helicopters anymore."

"That wouldn't be the first time. Remember when they sent in those jets."

Genma shivered at the memory. In the Northern region of Russia, the bribed government—or at least just a few corrupted military officials—had sent in jets armed with napalm to flush them out of a forest. They were still alive, which was proof enough of their successful escape, but it had been a close call. Those burns took days to completely heal. Still, it wasn't as bad as the time they sent mercenaries with flamethrowers to find them in the underground tunnel networks of Pakistan, especially when they collapsed the tunnels. That had been a truly harrowing experience; they were on the edge of starvation when they finally dug their way out. If only that foolish boy had the sense to learn that breaking point technique from that Ryouga boy, we wouldn't have suffered so badly, he thought.

"Or that time with the—"

"I get it already, boy. But things won't end until that debt is paid off. Your mother can't run from them like we can."

Ranma sighed. That was the thing. The debt didn't come from Pops; it was because of his mom. With Ranma and Genma gone on a training trip, Nodoka had no means to financially support herself through those long years. So rather than lose the house that had been in her family for generations, she made a contract with a multinational corporation that she had very distant familial ties to: the Takamiya Conglomerate.

Their holdings and accounts made them one of the wealthiest family-owned corporation in the world, and they had a lot of connections with many governments and lineages. They had their hands in everything from grocery outlets to electronic manufacturing to biotechnology to military research. From what Nabiki told them, they could easily bankrupt a small country with just a few words.

In exchange for them covering her finances, she engaged her son to the heir of that corporation, a woman who was five years his senior. It was hard to blame Nodoka, since she was doing it for survival, unlike when Pops did it, but it wasn't like he wanted another fiancée; he had enough trouble with the ones who wouldn't take 'no' for an answer. Turns out that heiress didn't take 'no' for an answer, either.

It wasn't like he couldn't handle it, but things got a little bit hectic when the Takamiya heiress started launching cruise missiles into Nerima. It wasn't running; it was just a tactical retreat. And besides, he didn't want anyone else getting hurt. Especially not since that time when those night ops paramilitary crew broke into the dojo and made Kasumi sprain her ankle. He got a lot of flak about that one.

Still, all he had to do was keep away until he could earn enough to pay back the 40 billion yen that Nodoka took over the years. It was a bit daunting, but he figured he could do it. Pops had some ideas. Not really good ones, but it was a start. First, though, they had to get away from Japan. It was home, but Japan's flagging economy made it a bit difficult to make a large amount of money quickly - not unless he wanted to completely ruin people's lives. Yeah, he wasn't willing to stoop that low. Not yet, at least.

Pops didn't want this marriage to happen. That was because there was a prenuptial agreement, not to mention the list of conditions that he had to abide by in order not to stain the Takamiya family's name. Sufficient to say, he wasn't pleased at all. Eventually, it came down to Pops ranting a bunch about it that Ranma only half listened to, but he didn't argue against it; he didn't want to go through with the marriage either. So they packed their bags and made a run for it.

The airports and seaports were blocked off so they swam the whole distance to Hong Kong, but even then, the chase was on. It was actually far more relentless than Shampoo's - so much so that they had a hard time staying in one place long enough to earn much. It started small, but it got to the point that now, at the first sign of a tank or helicopter brigade, they got out of there as fast as they could. Black sedans were a bad sign too.

The worst part was that the more Ranma escaped from her grasp, the more she wanted him. He had found that out from one of the mercenaries he beat up. It seemed that they were given letters to give to Ranma if they were defeated, and those letters turned out to be love letters. Poems, diary entries, all the works. They were kind of creepy, honestly. And it definitely wasn't pleasant to find out that what had started as an arranged marriage had turned into an all-consuming obsession. At this point, he wasn't quite sure if she wanted to marry him or kill him. Probably both, if his life was any indication. Stupid psycho chick.

More than once, he considered just giving in, but the thought of being married to someone similar to a saner Kodachi - or a crazy Nabiki - wasn't on his list of things to do. He wasn't quite sure which comparison was scarier.

"Stand sharp, boy. They're coming."

Ranma blinked. He hadn't noticed it. Stretching out his senses, he could feel a single presence moving through the forest at high speed. It definitely wasn't as fast as him, or even Pops, but it was fast enough that it showed that the person was a fairly skilled martial artist. Could use some work, especially the ki suppression. It was more than enough to hide themselves from amateurs, but any martial artist from Nerima worth their salt would be able to sense him. Seriously, even Mousse could do it, and that guy couldn't tell a tree from Shampoo.

"You wanna do it or should I?"

The only response from Genma was him holding his hands limply in front of him like a ghost, his presence diminishing as he sunk into the shadow of the tree.

Umisenken. It was one of the two forbidden schools that Genma created and sealed. Well, it wasn't really sealed anymore. Neither of the two schools was. Pops officially unsealed them after they started facing off against those bands of gun-toting maniacs and cyborg ninjas. There wasn't really any reason not to, especially for Yamasenken. An elite martial artist like Genma wouldn't normally need crazy lethal techniques that could pierce or slice apart his opponents, but it was different when he was dealing with tanks and killer androids. He needed sharp and powerful moves to take those down. It got worse when they started using electrified body armor on the regular mercenaries. That wasn't a pleasant memory.

Ranma dropped the pack from his back, rolling his shoulders before leaning back against a tree trunk. He was always up for a challenge.

~o~

Sten stared down at the lone boy leaning against the tree, who didn't seem to have noticed the large bear of a man standing on a branch of a tree high above, his arms crossed over his barrel-like chest. Bald and bearded with ringed eyes, his body was huge, stacked densely with large muscles. Two bracers lined his arms and a single iron pauldron protected one shoulder. A white robe hung down from his pauldron, held to his body by a belt. From his appearance and demeanor, he could easily be mistaken for a monk of some rural martial arts. Though, that wasn't far from the truth.

He was one of the Four Kouken Temple Rakshasa Demons. That was not to say there were only four of them; there were far more, but they were the best of the best, the epitome of those who called themselves Rakshasa Demons. Every single one of the demons—a moniker given by one of the previous emperors in the far past—grew up drinking the broth of the Kraken Lake behind the temple where they lived and trained at, gaining the ability to control and manipulate their bodies to a supernatural degree.

So it was with confidence that he knew that he heard two different and distinct voices from this location. Yet, upon arrival, all that he found was a young, black-haired teenager with exotic eyes, similar to those that lived on the undeveloped islands in the Eastern Ocean. There was no sign of the other, despite all expectations. None of his uniquely enhanced senses picked up on anyone else for miles.

He would have dismissed it plainly, a trick on his mind, if it weren't for the fact that the prophetic dream had two occupants in it. When the Lord of the Path of Peace had a dream about two individuals of Eastern descent in this very forest, destined for greatness, he had informed his ministers of it and sent a team of elite warriors to retrieve the two.

That was why one of the ministers, Bolic, who was secretly working for the Empire and was given control of the Four Kouken Temple Rakshasa Demons for his own protection, sent him. Keeping three of the Rakshasa Demons as his bodyguards—since a coward like that fool could never forgo his own safety—Sten was sent to eliminate the warriors and bring the two Easterners to the Prime Minister.

It was almost too easy to wipe out that team of "elite" warriors. In comparison to those who possessed Teigu, they were pitifully weak. Though, perhaps that was a virtue. It had, after all, allowed him to free their souls from the torturous corpses that were their bodies.

Hmph. He was not a man of patience. It was time to make his presence known. He stepped off the branch, falling straight down to the earth. His feet crashed into the forest's floor, rupturing the dirt underneath and causing the ground to quake at his arrival. His arms were still crossed over his muscular chest, and he was grinning widely with a full set of teeth.

"Child, you'll come with me," Sten said. "The Prime Minister would like to have a chat with you."

Ranma looked up calmly at the man with a purposely bored expression, still leaning against the tree. "Do you work for the Takamiya Conglomerate?"

"No." An honest answer, though Sten did not know what that was in the first place.

"Then why should I care?"

"If it weren't for the fact that you still have value in your mortal existence, I would've freed your soul from the binds of this transient world the moment I laid eyes on you." Sten uncrossed his arms, giving out an explicit threat. And why wouldn't he? The boy was no true warrior. The child's battle aura was dim to such a degree that he couldn't possibly be trained to fight, despite the muscles that he could see on the boy's body. The song that sang the joy of a fight was nearly nonexistent in the boy.

"Gotta say, that sounds like the story of my life," Ranma said casually. "But the answer's no. Better luck next time."

Sten stared incredulously at Ranma for a moment, before he burst out laughing.

"It's not that funny," Ranma muttered under his breath.

"You amuse me, child," Sten said as he settled back into his full grin. "But if you say something like that to me again, I'll cripple your mortal body in such a way that you'll beg me to release your soul."

"Hold that thought," Ranma said, turning his gaze to look slightly over Sten's shoulder. "Well, Pops, you done yet?"

"Just about so, boy." The voice came from behind Sten, causing his eyes to widen. He spun around to find the presence of a bald, pot-bellied man where there was none before. Before Sten could do more than gape, a vicious uppercut crashed into his chin with enough strength that it shook his brain as his body was lifted several feet into the air. It was impossible. His weight alone should have made that a fantasy, and that was before taking in the fact that his stance alone practically welded him to the earth. Yet, despite all odds, he was floating helplessly in the air, his breath caught in his throat.

Both Saotome men jumped up with their opponent, the older in front of Sten while the younger behind. They unleashed a dazzling display of aerial punches and kicks onto the Rakshasa Demon, lifting the man even higher in the air as they climbed with him. The firsts and feet snaked in and penetrated his defenses with such force that he distinctly felt pain from each and every single one of those numerous blows.

The pummeling dazed Sten's mind, shaking his brain countless times in his skull. In spite of that, his instincts were still intact, enough that he countered with his own punches and kicks. Unfortunately, his style was a ground-based one, such that without a firm footing on the earth, all of his attacks swung wildly and inaccurately without the momentum that made up its strength. As one, both Saotomes used an overhead smash at the same time, sending the Rakshasa Demon straight into the ground. The earth caved under his both the momentum and his immense weight, leaving a sizable crater with him in the center. Ranma and Genma landed on either side of the crater.

"So Pops, was there anything else we've got to fight?"

"No."

"Eh? Why didn't you tell me sooner? I could've taken my time then."

"Don't be foolish, boy! You must always be prepared for the unexpected! Remember those robot moles that attacked us from underground? We didn't detect that until it was too late. To be negligent is to fall victim to surprise attacks. The path of a martial artist is fraught—"

"With peril. Yeah, yeah," Ranma said dismissively. "But still, I could've gotten some new moves from him. I mean, it's not like the guy could even scratch me."

"I'm not done yet!" Sten roared as he rose to his feet, veins bulging all along the skin of his body. If he wasn't a Rakshasa Demon, he would have been incapacitated by that onslaught. Strangely enough, none of the attacks were lethal in nature, despite there being plenty of opportunities to do so. Even more curious than that was the fact he could not sense any killing intent from either of the two. Still, he could not take this humiliation with grace. It should be fine to bring them in battered and broken, as long as they were still alive.

"Hey Pops, don't interfere."

"Do as you like, boy."

"I may not be able to send you to the other world, but you'll wish I did. Kouken Temple Hundred Blazing Fist!" Sten rushed forward, stretching his arms as he lashed out, his fist extending and retracting at a speed that a normal man wouldn't be able to see. However, Ranma was a trained marital artist. He blurred between the strikes, dodging most of them by a hair's width while redirecting the ones he couldn't with a tap of his fingers. Eventually, the onslaught came to an end without a single hit. When Sten threw the last punch, fully extending his arm, the only thing that his knuckles touched was empty air. Ranma was crouched on Sten's arm—somehow having jumped up to land on the outstretched arm in the interval—looking down at the bigger man with a bored expression.

"Is that all you got?" Ranma poked the shocked man's forehead with his index finger. "I mean, you're sorta tough like Ryouga, but you're nowhere near as fast as I am. And I'm slower right now than when I get splashed with cold water."

Sten swung his arm, but Ranma had already backflipped off of it.

"Hey! It's not like I'm trying to make you angry, 'cause you'll know when I'm trying." Ranma glanced over at Genma. "Pops, I gave him a once over pat. I didn't feel any gadgets on him. I don't think he's with that psycho heiress."

"Perhaps not, boy."

Sten glared balefully at his fist. Even though he had been weakened by the previous assault, he had put enough of his strength and speed into his attack that all but the most skilled of the masters of the Imperial Fists would have been hard-pressed to defend against it. To be outclassed so simply and completely from not a man but a child, who wielded no Teigu at all, was something that he never considered a remote possibility. It felt like his own body had betrayed him.

Had he not trained his entire life? Did he not sacrifice enough?

"So who the heck are you anyways?" It wasn't like Ranma had all day to wait around for the big lug to snap out of it. Besides, it wasn't like this was different from their everyday life. From the looks of things, they stumbled on the territory of a Martial Arts Temple. This monk seemed to be one of the masters of the temple, and while that Hundred Fist thing wasn't as good as the technique he got from the Amazons, it didn't mean they didn't have other techniques that could be worth taking. They always did stay at dojos and temples for shelter and to learn new moves.

Well, the guy was saying something about a Prime Minister, now that Ranma thought about it.

Sten swung his arm, smashing his forearm into a tree and shattering the trunk in its entirety. Without its support, the tree came crashing down, though nowhere near the trio. He still felt plenty of anger, but it was now at a manageable level. He had not pulled out his entire arsenal, but if the child could completely negate the speed of his fastest attack, he doubted that any of his other techniques would fare better. There was no point in continuing this fight.

"I'm Sten of the Four Kouken Temple Rakshasa Demons. I'm not here to fight. I'm here to… escort you to the Prime Minister of the Empire."

"You don't got any techniques left?" Ranma whined before the bald's man statement caught up to his brain. "Wait. Empire of what? What country?"

Sten raised an eyebrow, but despite that, he began listing off the numerous regions that were a part of the Empire's territory. While that was going on, Ranma gave a blank stare at his father. It wasn't like he was completely stupid when it came to geography, but he never heard of these places. Then again, he never really studied the stuff outside Asia and the Pacific. Genma returned the blank stare with a shrug of his shoulders. So much for that.

"So, is that part of Germany or something?" Ranma asked when Sten finally finished listing off the territories.

"Germany?"

"Ah, never mind," Ranma said with a shake of his head. Probably some rural nation, kind of like the Amazons and Musk. "Let's go see that Prime Minister of yours."

Sten looked surprised, but he nodded wordlessly and turned to head in that direction, motioning for the two to follow him.

Genma sidled up to Ranma. "You sure about this, boy? That Takamiya girl might be pulling their strings."

"Nah, they look too rural. Besides, this is a chance to make some money and get rid of that psycho heiress." Ranma frowned speculatively. "Though their currency might be worthless."

"Don't be stupid, boy. Even if it is, we'll just exchange it for trade goods like diamonds. Even places as backwater as this should have that. Just look at Africa; they've got plenty of those."

~o~

It hadn't taken long to arrive, especially after Sten found out the two could keep up and even exceed his traveling speed. The city itself was an anachronistic mix of rural and modern technology, a strangely contrasting aspect that would have bothered the two more if they hadn't seen worse, like in the Amazon village. The difference was that this had a more European or Middle Eastern aspect to it. Like while they had rifles—strange looking ones—on their guards, they didn't have any cars, only carriages. It was actually extremely big for a place that was supposedly out in the sticks. Nonetheless, its glamour could not be denied. Nor could the ruthlessness be denied.

On the way, they had passed by large wooden crosses that had been placed in a public square. Nailed to each of them was a man or a woman, tortured and mutilated, but still alive. Most of the wounds were not bleeding, but that was because the severed stumps and cuts had been cauterized. There was plenty of burnt or necrotized skin. Some moaned or futilely tried to speak, but the moment they opened their mouths, he saw that they were missing their tongues.

Ranma shifted his gaze away at that time. It was cruel, but he had no obligation to save them. They weren't innocent people. They were criminals sentenced to death, probably for something like murder. He wouldn't have seen this kind of thing in Japan, but he had been around Asia and the Middle East enough to see different variations of the same thing. Still, it didn't make it any easier to either look at or ignore.

The path they took was over the rooftops, so it wasn't long before they arrived at the palace. As glamorous and huge as it was, it wasn't really a big deal to either of the two Saotomes. They had visited much grander sights, or at least seen photographs of them, so it didn't have much of an awe-inspiring impact on them. However, inside was different. There were priceless paintings on the walls and furniture that could have come from a movie set, more than enough that Ranma had to keep one hand on Genma's gi to stop the older man's greed from getting the both of them in trouble. Everything from the chandeliers to the rug looked like it was expensively-made and sparkling new.

"If we had to run, how much do you think we could steal, boy?" Genma scratched his chin speculatively. "With some quick thinking, we can probably take all the paintings along this hall."

"Pops, at least be reasonable," Ranma whispered back. "If you're gonna take something, it's better to take something small so you can carry more."

"What about that Moose boy?"

"Mousse."

"Listen to what I'm saying. Didn't he have that hidden weapon technique? You can carry it all with that."

"Nah, I never figured it out."

"What? You should've done that already. What have you been doing for the last year?"

"Shut up, Pops." Ranma shoved his elbow into the older man's side. "What do you think I've been doing? All of that marriage stuff was your fault."

"Oh, what an ungrateful son I have! After I spent more than a decade of my life teaching you the ways of the Anything Goes School of Martial Arts, this is how you repay me?"

"Stop being dramatic, Pops. It wasn't like you weren't doing it for yourself."

Genma's eyes glanced away. "I don't know what you mean."

"You just wanted me to inherit the dojo so you could leech off of me."

"Youth must support their elders. That's the natural way of life."

"Like with Happosai?"

Genma nearly slapped a palm over Ranma's mouth, but the pigtailed martial artist was quick enough to intercept it. "Don't speak the Master's name, lest you summon him!"

"What're you so scared about? He's still in Nerima."

"Do not speak of him, boy." Genma glared at his son.

"Fine, fine. It's not like it's a big deal anyways. I can handle him."

"That's just your confidence speaking. You only think that because we haven't seen him for a few months, but mark my words, boy, you'll regret it if he comes."

Ranma didn't look happy, but he couldn't exactly deny it either. Happosai had a tendency to pop up where he was least wanted.

Sten stopped in front of a massive set of double doors, causing the two behind him quiet down. The doors slowly opened, revealing a dining room that was on par with a chapel's main sanctuary. A domed ceiling reached high above with each window being made of color-stained glass, each depicting a scene from the long history of the Empire. In the middle of the room was a long table, made to allow a single party of twelve to dine together. There were several maids and butlers in attendance as well as armored royal guards, bearing the insignia of the nation.

Seated at the end of the table, a position where one could comfortably view the double doors, sat a largely overweight man. Sporting a lion-like appearance with a scruffy, full mane of hair on his head and chin, he had all the appearance of one who indulged too much on his dinner plate. And at the moment, he was staring speculatively at the new arrivals.

"So these are the ones that the Path of Peace wanted." Honest bit a chunk from the steak on his fork, viciously ripping it apart with his teeth rather than cutting it into bite-sized pieces with a knife. While chewing, he said, "Well, come then. Take a seat and have a meal with me. I find that the best friendships are made at the dinner table."

Before he could even finish talking, Ranma and Genma were already seated at the table on opposite sides and were in the process of stuffing their mouths full of food. Their arms blurred as they worked through the plates, devouring them at inhuman speeds. They were more used to chopsticks, but that didn't mean they didn't know how to work their way around a fork and spoon. They proceeded to demonstrate that knowledge by occasionally using them to steal, block, and counter-snatch the morsels of food from each other's plates.

Even the Prime Minister was openly gaping at their display, unmindful of the fact that there was partially chewed food showing from his open mouth. Eventually, he shook his head at the sight. He had seen stranger things. Raising is fork, he took a bite and chomped down on metal. He looked down. His steak was gone.

"Enough!" Honest slammed his palm down on the table. It was one thing to take food from the shared plates, but it was another to take it straight from his hand. Ranma and Genma froze, the older man in the process of putting said steak into his mouth. "While I know the Eastern Islands you hail from are uncivilized…"

Ranma and Genma exchanged glances. Was that guy talking about Japan? Because that was completely wrong.

"…I'll have to ask you to eat slower for the benefit of those not similarly gifted."

Ranma shrugged his shoulders. Sure, why not? They were getting free food after all, and pretty delicious dishes at that. The two ate at a more subdued pace, which meant only one dish disappeared every couple of seconds. The Prime Minister didn't look quite please, but he let the matter slide.

"I am Prime Minister Honest. I've been wanting to meet you two for awhile now, though perhaps not in this way," he said jovially. "Forgive me. I only ordered him to escort you, not fight you."

Ranma waved it off. "It was fun."

"Yes, I heard that you defeated Sten in unarmed combat. That's a most impressive feat." Honest looked over at the Rakhasa Demon. "What's your opinion on these two fighters, Sten?"

"They outclassed me." Sten did not look at all put out admitting that.

The Prime Minister raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Did you use all your abilities?"

"No, but it wouldn't have mattered. He cannot manipulate his body to the same degree as I can, but his skill and mastery of his unarmed fighting style is on a completely different level than mine," Sten said solemnly.

"I see, I see. Very impressive, indeed." Honest turned back to the two feasting martial artist. "Where did you both learn how to fight?"

"From me. It's the Saotome School of Anything Goes Martial Arts," Genma proudly said. "I taught my son everything he knows from the moment he could walk."

"A family art, I see. No wonder I never heard anything about it. Genma Saotome, was it?" Seeing the nod from the bald martial artist, Honest smiled. "You're probably wondering how I found out about you two."

Genma blinked and stared blankly at the fatter man. The thought never entered his mind. Glancing at Ranma, he saw that his son was in the same state.

"You see, I saw both of you in a dream of mine." Seeing the disbelief, the Prime Minister laughed. "It's not that farfetched. I occasionally have prophetic dreams. I put some trust into them. They don't tend to be wrong," Honest lied smoothly. "I believe you two will be of great importance to this nation."

"Ah, man. Not another prophecy." Ranma groaned. If it wasn't one thing, it was another.

"Now, now, it's not like I'm asking you to risk your life. I simply wish for you two to stay in this nation for awhile until we can discern more. It would be a bit troubling if you left so soon," Honest said. "Oh, don't look at me like that. I won't have you sitting around, doing nothing. In fact, I think it would be best to employ you two as Martial Arts teachers so you can spread your unique style. Our soldiers are in need of competent trainers to make sure that they can repel the enemies of the Empire. The pay is very handsome if you can teach them well."

Genma was not so foolish as to take in the Prime Minister's words at face value. He was a scammer himself, after all. Even though Honest's tone was friendly and inviting, he could detect that smug and predatory attitude hidden underneath that smile. To think that the man would try to out-scam him was laughable. He would turn the tables on him and leech out as much as he could.

"How much?" That was the first question out of Genma's mouth as soon as it was partially free of food.

Honest told him. They stared blankly at Prime Minister.

"Er, what Pops meant to say is how much is that in diamonds?"

"Jewels? I see. I suppose that would probably amount to…" The Prime Minister gave them a rough estimate.

"We'll take it," Genma said immediately. Scam artist or not, it was impossible to refuse that amount.

"Hey, Pops! Don't make a decision without talking to me about it first!" Ranma fumed.

"Boy, did you not hear what he said?! At that rate, we'll be rid of our debt…" Genma used his fingers to count. After he raised seven fingers, he gave up on counting. "…in a year or two. That's faster than any plan we can come up with."

"I suppose you're right for once, Pops, but what if that crazy girl sends people here? I don't wanna get anyone else involved."

"Don't worry, boy. We'll just do what we've been doing if it comes to that." That meant running the moment they see tanks coming.

"I guess. Though next time, discuss it with me first, old man."

"It's for your own good, boy. If you studied more back in Nerima, then I'd trust your noggin a little more. Let that be a lesson to you to not sleep during class next time."

"Like you're any better!"

Genma was about to respond, but Honest coughed into his hand. The Prime Minister didn't want to drag this on longer than it needed to be.

"We've an accord then. I'll have the maids show you to your rooms in the palace. If you require anything, tell the maids. They'll fetch it for you, as long as it's a reasonable request." Honest motioned with his index finger and two comely maids stepped forward. "They're also versed in night service if you so desire it. I doubt the stay here will be boring for you."

Ranma looked confused at the last statement, but Genma caught on, frowning slightly but saying nothing.

"Come on, boy. Let's get settled in." The two maids led the way out of the room as the two martial artists followed behind.

Once they left the room, Prime Minister Honest reached over the table and took a chicken leg. With a meaningful glance at the Rakshasa Demon, he said, "Give me the full report."

Sten dutifully recited every detail, from the start when Minister Bolic gave the order to his subsequent defeat. During the report, the Prime Minister began to look more and more intrigued, even as he ripped into the chicken's meat with his teeth. When Sten was done, Honest tapped a speculative finger against his bearded chin. Now that he knew exactly how the fight went, it increased his interest far more than he originally expected. Well, he half-expected it to be a somewhat decent fighter who had beaten the Rakshasa Demon through sheer luck, but this was much better.

"To have enough speed or instinct to render your Hundred Blazing Fist useless marks him as General-class by that fact alone. For their fists to harm you through your defenses and endurance cements that ranking." What made it even stranger was the fact that the battle was non-lethal. None of the wounds that Sten sustained were vital, nor did they have any sort of lasting damage. To aim specifically to incapacitate was a lot harder than simply killing.

"They're very skillful, but they've no murderous intent that I could see. Battle lust, yes, but not blood lust." Sten crossed his massive arms. "If they had gone lethal, I would have not survived. Even if I fight them again right now, they could still throw me off this mortal body with ease. I must train far more and far harder to defeat them."

"If all four of you were there, would you be able to beat them?"

"I'm not sure. Possibly, but one or two of us will fall before then. Mez and Ibara do not have as much damage resistance as I do."

"Perhaps that fool of a Lord in the Path of Peace was right after all."

"Do you wish for me to watch them?"

"Don't bother. The older one was able to hide from you, despite your enhanced senses. They make the perfect assassins, undetectable to even skilled warriors. Though, that makes them impossible to watch." The Prime Minister tossed the chicken leg bone onto his dinner plate. "I'm having the staff monitor them. Their employment limits their location, making it easy to watch them. Return to Bolic."

Sten nodded and bowed. He turned around to leave the room.

"And Sten." The Rakshasa Demon stopped and glanced back. Honest smiled viciously.

"Tell him that I'm pleased."