Mikura could still feel the sting of an electrified garrote around her throat. All she could remember was going back to her apartment after the Momoi job went bad, and then… zap. She was too weak to open her eyes, but she was starting to hear things again.
"And what about the blood test?"
Someone was talking in the far, muffled distance. It was a young woman's voice, speaking in the tone of a high-class debutante. Mikura could think of only one person it might belong to.
It was Psycho Bitch.
"There is a definite chromosomal match. I'll have to beg your pardon, ma'am, but it seems your father was quite, er, active in his earlier years."
Someone else was in the room. An older guy. He sounded like one of those nerdy types. The two were having a conversation. About what, Mikura had no idea.
"Hmm. That explains a lot. Maybe we'll get more out of her during the memory extraction." The Bitch made shuffling noises, and then kept talking. "So tell me, doctor, what makes you so sure this time? What's going to stop her from turning out like the other one with the earrings?"
"You have nothing to worry about. We have removed all previous limitations. This version of ze device will be organically fused with ze subject's brain tissue. Nobody will even know it's there. There will be no way to remove it without killing her in ze process."
Mikura was almost strong enough to open her eyes. She could feel her arms being held over her head in metal clasps. The lingering pain around her throat caused her to cough.
"Shit, she's waking up." Momomi was the first one to notice. "No, give us a minute. I'll take care of prepping her."
When she raised her eyelids, Mikura could see Momomi was leaning forward so their noses almost touched. Her expression was curious, comforting, and ruthless all at the same time. She seemed unusually calm at the moment, considering Mikura was used to only seeing her when they were in the middle of shooting the place up and trying to kill each other. Her fingers tenderly brushed across Mikura's cheek.
"Rise and shine, Orange Girl. Sorry for being such a pain in the neck, but you forced me to use the stealth approach."
"Damn… bitch…" Mikura grumbled tiredly.
Momomi brought her hand out to show off she what she was holding. It was a small CPU microchip, about the size of one of her pinkie nails. She moved her hand again so the tiny piece of circuitry rested against Mikura's temple. She pretended to compare measurements before she continued her taunt.
"That's so cute. It's just the right size for you. It should fit right in there, safe and sound."
"Whatever you're doing, it's not going to work." Mikura growled.
"I don't think so," Momomi answered quietly. "You're going to tell me everything your little crew has been planning after we're done with you. I'll find out where you've taken my father one way or another."
Mikura had no sympathy for Psycho Bitch or her scumbag dad. The entire Mamoi family tree were Yakuza murderers who had it coming. So what if they had accidentally killed him during the kidnapping? It was the bastard's own fault his heart gave out after he chugged through his cigars like a smokestack. She couldn't say that here, though. Not when DSA's entire plan depended on Momomi thinking he was still alive. All she could do was grit her teeth and pull against her chains.
"Calm down, Orange." Momomi reacted to her struggling with mild amusement. "We're going to get to know each other a lot better from now on." She reached forward, slowly tracing down the sides of Mikura's trademark orange jumpsuit. Once she reached the bottom of Mikura's hourglass, she playfully tugged on some of the form-fitting material around her rear and let it snap back into place.
"You're too uptight. Maybe you'll feel better if I peel you." She moved to Mikura's front and began pulling on the zipper that held the entire uniform together. She stopped to touch a faint bruise that had formed around Mikura's neck. "Oh my. I should have been more careful about that. I'll have to ask them to do some extra cosmetic work."
"Get the fuck off me!" Mikura wasn't enjoying this. She pulled harder against the chains. She weakly tried to throw a kick, only to discover her ankles were bound to the floor.
"Fine. Have it your way." Momomi sighed and shook her head. Reaching for her dress skirt, she revealed a small pistol stored in a garter around her thigh. She removed the weapon and placed her arm around Mikura again. This time, Mikura could feel a cold steel barrel press against the back of her head. She heard the safety unlock.
"We'll play rough." Momomi smirked. Mikura spit back in anger.
"You can't scare me, Psycho Bi-!"
She was cut off by a gunshot and a splattering sound.
"You're on, doc."
"Foolish girl! All I needed to do was anesthetize ze patient! You've obliterated her entire cerebellum!"
"Pfft. You're supposed to be the cybernetics expert. Scrape out the parts I fucked up and give her a new one. She's no good to us if she can't learn how to behave."
"Well… yes, yes. I suppose it's possible if we rush her to surgery. Let me just feel inside ze wound… Ah, it doesn't look like you hit anything we can't repair. Excellent shot as always, Miss Momoi. You've damaged most of her cognitive functions, but ze obedience chip was going to assume control of those anyway. Her combat related memories should still be intact in ze frontal lobes. I'll just have to use a few additional neural augmentations to bring everything back to working order. This is going to take some time, though."
"She's yours for four hours."
Mikura woke up in the dead of night. She barely managed to grasp her surroundings thanks to the splitting pain in the back of her head. It felt like a severe hangover, but she couldn't remember the last time she went out drinking with the guys.
The bed she was on was large and lavish. The rest of the room was a combination of rich furnishings and eerie moonlight. It was like a fairy tale that decided to become a horror movie at the last minute. She had never seen Psycho Bitch's bedroom, but this place had her name written all over it.
And at the foot of the bed stood the old mob boss himself, Momokichi Momoi. He stared down at her with the same blank, wide-eyed expression she had seen frozen on his face when they buried his dead body the previous night.
What the fuck?
"You've been a naughty girl, Mikura." His lips moved, but his ghostly visage never changed. "I could have done without you kidnapping me and giving me a heart attack, but that's not even the worst of it. What kind of daughter gets in fights with her own sister?"
Sister? What the hell was he talking about?
"Look at her, daddy." Momomi was suddenly there, slipping out from behind her father's shoulder. "She isn't even sorry for bullying me." She frowned at Mikura. The moonlight added a soft silver glow to her eyes.
"That won't do." Momikichi never blinked. He only continued speaking toward Mikura. "Maybe I should give her a spanking to teach her a lesson."
"Do it, daddy!" Momomi's mouth curled into a delighted grin. "Do it until she promises never to fight me again!"
Oookay. Here she was in a strange room with Psycho Girl and Zombie Creep both making unwelcome advances. Her bad day was getting worse by the minute, and her patience was wearing thin. She would have jumped straight out of the bed and kicked both of their asses if she wasn't so dizzy.
Damn, her head really hurt.
Kenichi and Tomohisa were dead. Their ransom plot had failed after a traitor revealed the Momoi chairman had already been killed. Tomohisa's neck had been snapped by a pair of strong but slender arms. Kenichi had taken a bullet between the eyes. The last thing he had seen was his executioner saying "So long, Pops," and winking at him. The assassin stood over both corpses in the center of the Peach Dome with the smoking gun still in her hand. She wore nothing except a short hospital gown on her body and a thick layer of gauze on her head. So much for 'possible minor loss of ze coordination and motor skills.'
Mikura handed the pistol back to Momomi.
"Here you go, Momo."
"Good work, Mikura. It's a shame what happened to father, but at least you made these assholes pay." Momomi smiled as she discarded the empty clip. Watching her new bodyguard follow her orders to the letter and slaughter the rest of the DSA had helped vent her frustration. "We're going to have you lay low in the lab until you can pass your last physical. You'll be able to go back to regular duty once you're fully recovered."
"Thanks, sis." Mikura folded her hands over the front of her gown. "The sooner I'm allowed to wear underwear again, the better."
Momomi snickered. She didn't care if that was just part of medical protocol. It was another way she could exert control over her half-sister.
"Unfortunately we had to get rid of most of your DSA gear. Some of your brain matter just wouldn't wash out." She enjoyed personally torching that ugly orange thing with a flamethrower, but Mikura didn't need to hear about that. They were best friends now. "We're already working on a new mission suit for you. It's pretty similar to what you're used to wearing, but I asked them to make it peach colored."
"Aw," Mikura's eyes sparkled as she replied. "That's my new favorite color!"