Quick announcement: and so begins season two of A Certain Strange Scenario. This chapter also marks something of a turning point in the narrative; things are moving in a different direction, my dear readers. We're delving into the Darkness of Academy City, a realm in which mysterious violence and depravity have long ruled unchecked.
Let's head 'em on into responses!
Guest: Awaki simply signed her initials at the end of her text message – MA, Musujime Awaki.
Ultron emperor: I'm glad you enjoyed reading Accelerator's scene as much as I enjoyed writing it! I suppose you could say he does, although, even if he does have a harem, Accelerator isn't the kind of person to acknowledge it. Kami Disease had to pass onto SOMEONE, right?
Oh, Devastator is coming back. I think you're going to enjoy the first couple of arcs of season two, friend.
Guest: Yep, that's it! There's always time to peel back the layers of the past, friend. Thank you! I'm glad that you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Things might just go smoothly for the Kamijous and the Director, or, alternatively, everything could be flip-turned upside down.
Whwsms: I'm glad you're enjoying the reveal! A grand finale, if I do say so myself. I'm looking forward to being able to convey that tale. Thank you so much for the compliment, friend! I'll do so to the best of my ability.
Guest: We'll be getting to that; it's been a gradual, slow climb up a slippery slope, but the Kamijous won't be able to ignore the crumbling ruin that is Academy City for much longer.
Anon Guest: Laura Stuart certainly seems like the type of person who has had a wrathful reprisal coming for years, given her manipulating, deceptive ways, but, is she really that type of person? Does Laura Stuart deserve to suffer for her actions? Those are difficult questions to answer.
If I were in charge of a dying experimental City, and responsible for the lives of the hundreds of thousands of people who foolishly chose to remain there, I think I'd be a bit frustrated. Kumokawa Seria's desire to protect the Kamijous is a topic that'll be explored sooner than later, friend.
Riyangendut: it seems like a bit of a stretch, doesn't it? Things change as time goes on, I suppose, as do people. Ah, thank you for the compliment! I greatly appreciate it! The truth behind the magical threat to Academy City will be unveiled in due time; I'll do my best not to tease too much.
321jaz: I have procured enough funds to finish writing season two – but sadly, season three is going to be on hold for a few years. I apologiz— ha. I'm kidding. If I can't beat JC Staff to the punch, I think I'll need to have my life-living ways corrected.
I'll confess publicly; while the Belial of the Diablo universe didn't directly inspire the Belial of this piece's universe, I was inspired by the franchise's concept of adapting demons of folklore, Biblical or otherwise, into modern horrors. Given that the Biblical Belial was little more than a guise used by Lucifer, I have room to be creative with this universe's depiction of Belial.
I'm glad you enjoyed reading that as much as I enjoyed writing it! A part of me wanted the Huntmaster to shout something about "blasting off again", but it would've killed the heated, tension-filled moment.
It just might; life has never been easy for the Bearer of the Imagine Breaker, but he's not alone.
I'm glad all of you lovely people seem to approve of the reveal! With Kumokawa Seria in the mix, things are only going to get even more interesting. I'm glad that you decided to hop on board – I hope to hold your anticipation and interest for as long as I possibly can!
Anon: I'm glad to have your stamp of approval on the reveal, friend! In a way, Seria has also invoked the concept of "if you can't beat 'em, join 'em". Seria has to fight fire with fire, so to speak. Really, Kamijou Touma was likely the only man who would've stood a chance with Seria, but, things didn't quite turn out that way. Thank you for your review, and I hope to hear more from all of you great people in future reviews!
And, now that response time's come to a close, the time for season two's first arc, the time for the Forgotten Protector Arc to begin has arrived!
"Why are they trying to hurt us, papa?!"
"Keep behind me, champ. Papa will protect you. Papa will always protect you. Papa loves you."
It was long after the fateful day in which a certain spiky-haired boy first met the Mental Out girl that the sentient combat machine, Devastator, found purpose in adopting a human boy as its own, in pursuit of a life that was not meant to be.
At first, it thought the boy was a new body to test its armaments upon.
And then, they became friends.
And then, its mechanical heart came to know mercy.
And then, parent and child tried to escape from their slavers.
And, finally, it tried to save his life.
In the present, Devastator, the sentient combat machine rummages through the crumbling ruins of Academy City, desperately searching for a way to reconstruct the life that could've been, but never was. Any who have thus far stood in its way have been maimed and broken, any who have thus far tempted its wrath have been unmade. War becomes the sole path to peace, as Devastator clings to its important memory, its one chance at salvation, its one chance to be called 'papa' again.
September 22nd, 2014. 6:08 PM.
Tessou Tsuzuri, a groggy-looking Shirai Kuroko, an equally tired-looking Misaka Mikoto, and Tsuzuri's squadron of brave men and women cast a series of shadows over the ruined streets of the walled-off zone known as "the Strange", in school district ten. The Strange, guarded by thin, flimsy walls of rusted metal and abandoned blocks of concrete, was a one-hundred-mile-wide, and seventy-seven-mile-long reprieve from the seemingly senseless, gang-related violence that plagued school district ten. Protected by a resurrected and Anti Skill-allied Big Spider, one could walk the streets of the Strange in peace, and relative safety.
"There's stuff out here, that's for sure, but none of it's out of the ordinary – metal chairs, beds frames, alarm clocks… codpieces… for some reason." The Railgun mumbled.
As Kuroko was about to suggest leaving the relative, if tenuous safety of the Strange to look elsewhere, Mikoto held up a hand, and stopped in her tracks, her trainers skidding against pebbles and broken chunks of concrete. She was ahead of her girlfriend. "Three blocks ahead, outside the walls. Guns. Lots of them, a whole stockpile." Mikoto spoke, as calmly and as collectedly as she could.
"Then we should take our leave. We've likely already overstayed our welcome; the residents of the Strange won't openly attack us, but they don't like us all that much, either." Tsuzuri explained.
As the group made their way towards the Strange's northernmost gate, which was, in fact, nothing more than two rusted, dented sheets of metal that had the wheels of supermarket carts welded onto them, Mikoto made note of the urban decay that continued to plague the Strange. Bombed-out buildings, their windows purposefully smashed or, perhaps accidentally broken, lined the streets. Pseudo-motivational graffiti promoting Big Spider's various ironic anti-gang philosophies covered almost every surface – not even the ground beneath the group's feet had been spared.
At the northernmost gate, Tessou Tsuzuri produced a badge from a nearly invisible compartment, located in the center of her Kevlar armor's chestplate, and flashed it to two of the eight fighters who had, much to their disgruntlement, been placed on watch duty. The fighter Tsuzuri had approached looked at it momentarily, then turned his attention back to Tsuzuri, and nodded in satisfaction. The fighters, who wore what Tsuzuri and her troops recognized to be pre-Fall Anti Skill battle-gear, which consisted of armored, dark blue slacks, an armored, long-sleeved top, a bulletproof vest, and a full-faced bulletproof helmet, stepped aside, and allowed the group of "allies" to pass through the gate. A high-powered sniper rifle, which hung from the upper window of the adjacent ruined structure trailed their movements.
"For Academy City. For Wataru." The fighter stated. Tessou Tsuzuri nodded in affirmation, and lead her group through the gate.
The gate had closed behind the group, and, in a few minutes' time, they had done their best to get as far away from the Strange as they possibly could.
"Is it just me, or does it almost feel safer out here? That atmosphere was… so oppressive." Mikoto stated, electromaster senses still tingling as she continued to track her quarry.
"Hardly, Onee-Sa— Mikoto, at least the people in the Strange just shoot you with dirty looks. Out here, we'll be stupidly lucky if we don't end up in a full-on firefight." Kuroko responded, eyes darting from side to side, as she tightly grasped one of her daggers.
"Thanks again for your co-operation, Misaka-san. There're few people in Academy City who're willing to enter the unsafe districts, unless they're looking to conduct illegal business, of course. Network's been catching a lot of slavers, kidnappers, those types… when it's working properly, that is." Tsuzuri rambled.
"No way was I going to let Officer Shirai here face danger without me." Mikoto said, offering her girlfriend a loving gaze. Kuroko internally swooned, but wouldn't allow herself to lose focus on her task at hand. Outwardly, Shirai Kuroko was stern and collected.
Paradise was lost. Like a crash of thunder, it came suddenly and without warning; Tsuzuri and her group recognized the scene immediately. A band of Skill Out hoodlums, dressed in little more than ordinary streetwear, some even completely naked, fled from the doors of a run-down, crumbling convenience store. The OFFICER Network, whose robotic officers were blasting away at the criminals with their solar-powered weaponry weren't far behind. One officer stopped in place, turned to face the Anti Skill troopers as well as the third ranked level five esper, and approached, peering down the sights of its rifle.
"ANTI SKILL AMBASSADORS, CIVILIAN. HALT."
Tension returned with a triumphant boom. Mikoto spun on her heel, electricity jumping from her form. Kuroko was poised to teleport at a moment's notice, and the Anti Skill troopers lifted their weapons to the source of the vocalization.
"I AM LAW_ENFORCER-20829: SCHOOL DISTRICT TEN IS UNDER OFFICER NETWORK JURISDICTION. CONTINUED INTERFERENCE IN OFFICER NETWORK AFFAIRS WILL RESULT IN IMMEDIATE ENGAGEMENT OF ORGANIC MATTER INCINERATION SUBROUTINE." The automaton stated flatly. It moved its rifle from person to person, its singular eye moving rapidly in its head.
"Fuck yourself, "officer."
A stream of bullets that connected directly with the robotic officer's "eye" was fired by Tessou Tsuzuri. Each individual bullet that clanged and clanked against the officer's metallic head pushed it back a step or two. Tsuzuri only released the trigger once the automaton's head was completely destroyed, left as little more than a twisted hunk of broken metal. Unable to see, the android stumbled about, firing its solar-powered rifle wildly.
"W-what have you…" Kuroko mumbled, her eyes wide.
"Sticking it to the man, or the lack thereof! I'm sick and tired of being bullied by the Network!" Tsuzuri exclaimed, frustration in her voice. Moments later, however, Tessou Tsuzuri's body language, or what could be seen of it through the movements of her Kevlar armor, became much less confident. "We need to run; damned thing's probably already sent out a distress signal to the rest of the Network."
And so the group ran. Kuroko's face turned from shock to scorn as she took the lead, Mikoto not far behind her. "Where's that stockpile of guns, Mikoto? I think my people are going to need them. My superior's fucked us all," Kuroko growled between quick breaths. "I'm in no position to question my superior, but I know a major fuck-up when I see one."
"Follow," Mikoto panted; using her ability, the Railgun magnetically reached out, and, using nearby buildings as leverage, lifted herself from the ground. Electricity crackled and leapt from her form, causing the lights in what few buildings that actually had electricity to flicker. Kuroko teleported ahead to follow her girlfriend, determined to ensure her beloved's protection.
Mikoto arrived a few meters ahead of her Anti Skill allies at their destination; it was a mostly ruined, charred four-story structure, which looked to have been hastily cobbled together with a corroded metallic frame and brown bricks, some of which had fallen from the structure itself to the concrete below. Misaka Mikoto dropped to the ground, and again reached out with her ability – the OFFICER Network was sending drones towards their position, as well as an entire contingent of robotic officers. Pained screams, which Mikoto assumed to belong to one or more of the previously fleeing Skill Out hoodlums rang out, accompanied by the rattling of assault rifles and the distinctive sounds of the Network's solar-powered weapons' blasts.
Not having the time to fiddle with the lock of the door, but not wanting to rip it from its hinges, Mikoto began to ponder.
"I can see inside; there's a broken window. Just give me one second…" Kuroko mumbled. She focused on the interior of the structure, which was indeed visible from a window frame on the structure's third story. One second, Kuroko stood next to her girlfriend; the next, she was gone.
"M-Misaka-san!" The anxious, panting voice of Tessou Tsuzuri exclaimed. "W-where's Officer Shirai?!"
Mikoto pointed to the structure in front of them, and motioned to it by tilting her head. "Teleported inside. I didn't 'feel' anyone inside, and if there are people in there, they're not armed or armored. Door's locked, and I'd rather not expose us by destroying it," The Railgun explained. She crossed her arms, and sighed in frustration. What Tsuzuri had done really irked the former Ace of Tokiwadai, as well.
A few minutes of tension-filled waiting had passed, and Mikoto had finished her most recent magnetic scan of she and her Anti Skill allies' surroundings. Relative silence had since descended, and that meant that the Network was dangerously close to surrounding them. The Railgun began to prepare herself for a Hellish and bloody battle to the end in defense of her girlfriend, when the door of the ruined structure before her slowly opened. Misaka Mikoto turned to face Shirai Kuroko; the Railgun's heart jumped into her throat when she laid eyes on the normally confident and outgoing teleporter. She looked haunted; her eyes were wide, and her lips had parted slightly. Kuroko's pupils had shrunk, in contrast with her widened eyelids.
"We… we aren't the f-first ones to get here…"
Tessou Tsuzuri, along with her troopers, piled into the ruined structure, forcing Kuroko to stumble out of the way. Mikoto swiftly entered, closed the door behind her, and took Kuroko into an embrace.
"Kuroko? What did you see? There's something messed up in here; you're not easily shaken up, at least not like… this."
Kuroko let her head fall against her girlfriend's shoulder. Mikoto felt her beloved teleporter's body shudder in her arms.
"Don't want to see it again. Horrible."
Mikoto began to slowly, and gently move both herself and her traumatized partner, one foot at a time. She wrapped Kuroko's arm around her shoulders, and helped the teleporter walk as her legs shook. "We need to get away from that door; I'm going to take us deeper into this place, just a little bit. Close your eyes, and be strong, okay, Kuroko? I love you. You can do this."
Kuroko smiled weakly, and closed her eyes shut, as tightly as she physically could. "I love you too, Mikoto."
Mikoto couldn't be certain as to what this building had once been used for; it could've been anything. In the present, what looked to have once been a lobby of sorts had been furnished with torn, rotting old furniture – ripped couches, which surely contained a variety of disgusting insectoid lifeforms, ragged, faded carpets, and broken dressers cluttered the area. The floors were littered with refuse; outdated, extremely faded front pages of newspapers, used condoms, which the Railgun strategically had both herself and her girlfriend avoid, wads of tissues which were smeared and crusted over with old, browned blood, and torn pages of lewd magazines were among the debris. Stepping through the "lobby" and through a narrow, unlit hallway, Mikoto took her first, and final step into a much larger room. The Railgun gasped, and fought back the urge to upchuck.
There were bodies; broken, mangled bodies. Some where tossed about like ragdolls, their limbs splayed out, others looked to have had their necks violently snapped. Some were impaled on the white, sterile-looking, and blood-smeared walls of the large room; bloodied firearms were forced through their torsos. At one of many broken down metallic tables in the center of the large room, bodies laid in heaps on ripped, dirtied sofa chairs. The bodies of these once-living people lacked their heads, except for one, who had the phrase "IM WITH STUPID" written on the forehead of their helmet in a sticky-looking, bright orange substance.
"Deadlock." Tessou Tsuzuri commented, pointing to a torn flag that hung on the southernmost wall of the large room; the flag was long, black and purple trimmed, with an enormous, purple letter 'D' in the center; the image of a thick-bladed curved sword punctured the top of the letter 'D', and exited through its bottom. Behind the brutish emblem was the image of a purple, featureless padlock. "Armor's a dead giveaway; none of those Diver suits, though. These people weren't high-ranking members, just peons. Looks like they got under the skin of the wrong person… corpses are fairly old… or, at least, they're certainly not fresh. That stink… no, someone got here way ahead of us."
Mikoto shuddered, and turned both herself and her girlfriend away from the carnage. "You can open your eyes now, Kuroko. Just don't look back."
Kuroko gripped Mikoto's hand in her own, and slowly opened her eyes, as she cringed. "That fucked me up. I've seen some ugly scenes, but this is… horrible. Who would do this? How could someone do this to other people? This is…" Kuroko trailed off as her lips curled downwards, into a frown.
"Someone didn't do this; something did this." Kuroko, continuing to face the door, cleared her throat. "Tessou-san, as of this moment, I don't care whether or not you're my superior; this mission's a bust. I'm getting as many people as I can out of this place. There's going to be Hell to pay, the Network's going to be freaking out for the next week. Great job," The teleporter snapped in frustration. "Mikoto, remind me to send someone here to clear out the stockpile of firearms, please and thank you? I'd do it here and now, but… we don't really have time to give this place a thorough exploration."
The Railgun gave a nod, as her facial expression turned to one of concern. Mikoto's look of concern turned to that of horror as the door of the structure, some fifty feet behind her, began to shake. It endured blow after forceful blow, as the sounds of the weapons wielded by the OFFICER Network's robotic officers rang out. Swiftly moving, painfully bright blasts of deadly hot solar energy surged through destroyed window frames, and the sounds of what Mikoto recognized to be the laser beams fired by drones worked tirelessly to destroy the outer walls of the structure.
Kuroko turned towards the carnage, took a deep breath, and entered the large room. She grasped the forms of two of her armored fellow officers, and vanished. Some seconds later, she returned, and continued to repeat this process until only herself, Mikoto, and her superior, Tessou Tsuzuri remained. An inconsistent headache formed in Kuroko's head; as she took her girlfriend's hand in her own, and begrudgingly grasped the armored wrist of her superior, the trio disappeared, leaving the defiled, ruined structure behind.
The OFFICER Network stormed the structure as its first floor's outer walls crashed down; this triggered a domino effect. As the first floor collapsed into smouldering ruins, the rest of the structure, finding itself unsupported, followed soon after. Even as the structure the automatons found themselves in fell apart around them, they did not relent until their bodies, and the bodies of the Deadlock squadron that had perished there were crushed under hundreds of tons of rubble.
Misaka Mikoto, Shirai Kuroko, and Tessou Tsuzuri exited the eleventh dimension; Mikoto and Tsuzuri unceremoniously stumbled into the lobby of Anti Skill's school district seven headquarters. Kuroko walked with more elegance, but her face betrayed her unease, as well as her quickening fatigue.
After a few seconds of silence, Tessou Tsuzuri swiftly left the room, leaving the awkward, darkening atmosphere behind to pursue her own agenda. Mikoto and her angered girlfriend were left to their own devices.
"Mikoto, if you get wrapped up in this, I'm sorry. Just let me know if the Network comes pounding on your door, and I'll take care of everything. Stupid… ugh." Kuroko grumbled.
The Railgun crossed her arms beneath her bosom, and sighed, as her frown deepened.
"I understand where Tessou-san is coming from, Mikoto. I don't like the Network either, but you can't just shoot them. They're stronger than us, they have better tech than us… I don't even know why we exist, if the Network can handle everything." The teleporter ranted.
"I don't know what to tell you, Kuroko. If there was something, anymore more we could do…"
"I'm so sick and tired of hearing that! Not from you specifically, but just in general!" Kuroko interrupted. "I'm sick of running, and I'm sick of hiding. I'm sick of being a prisoner in my own home. I'm sick of watching Academy City fall apart around us. I'm sick of everyone trying to pretend that everything's okay, when it's really not!"
Mikoto took her girlfriend into an embrace, one which the teleporter welcomed. "We'll do something, Kuroko. We'll find a way to make this right. It might not happen today, and it might not happen in a week… but we'll find a way to fix this place we're struggling to call home. I'm not just saying that. If you work with me, if we work together, with everyone else, we'll make things right… for now, I think we should talk to some other people who are great at making things right."
Kuroko looked up to her precious, adored Onee-Sama, as if to silently inquire as to who she was referring to.
Mikoto smiled thinly at her girlfriend. "I've come far enough to know that trying to fix things by myself only makes everything worse. We need to rely on each other; all of us."
Kuroko turned to the hallway that lead to the elevator. "Speaking of talking, Mikoto… I'm going to talk to that robot, Devastator. I'll call you when I get off duty. I love you."
Mikoto didn't want to let go, but she ended up doing so, because she knew she had to. "That robot? Really? You think it's going to help us? If it killed those people in that building… but, you know what? I've butted myself into Anti Skill's business too much as it is. I'll be looking forward to hearing from you. I love you too. Listen, I've been trying to get a hold of Uiharu-san, but she never picks up her phone…"
Kuroko nodded to her girlfriend. "Do what you feel you have to do, Mikoto. I'll always support you."
September 22nd, 2014. 11:40 PM.
Uiharu Kazari stared at the wall across from her room's bed in the reformatory; she certainly didn't have anything better to do. There wasn't so much as a singular sharp object for her to slit her own throat, or anything long enough for her to choke herself to death with. There was one singular hope, however. One way out of this Hell that Uiharu Kazari hadn't worked up the courage to try; her room had one small window, which was adjacent to her bed.
Kazari turned away from the wall, and looked the window over. It didn't look big enough for her to squeeze her entire body through, unless she really tried. She knew that doing so would be excruciatingly painful.
Kazari turned away from the window, and sighed. Her room was sterile; the walls were beige, while the floors were hard, cold, and mostly white. The ceiling above Kazari's head was split into five rows of ten wide rectangles, all of which were white, with dark spots on them. Kazari secretly hoped the spots were some type of deadly mould. Uiharu Kazari's prison was rather cramped, though, she was grateful for it; because the room was so small, there wasn't enough room for more than a single bed, nightstand, and television stand, which had a small, flat screen television sitting atop it. The idiot-box had been tuned to some newscast, which Kazari had found herself drowning out.
"I'm powerless. I need to get back to D-001's hole in the ground, get my tech… it could've been cleared out by now, but it's worth a shot."
As Uiharu Kazari continued to quietly contemplate, the sound of her room's door being unlocked, followed by a sickeningly, disgustingly sweet voice interrupted her musings. Kazari's brow furrowed, and she turned her head towards the door to her room.
"What."
"Hello, Uiharu-san. How are you feeling this evening?" Inquired the orderly who had been periodically checking up on the young woman since her arrival. It made Kazari want to scream and tear the innocent orderly apart. Kazari physically bit her tongue, causing it to begin to bleed in her mouth; she wouldn't give this oppressive system the pleasure to see her rage.
Kazari noticed that the orderly had changed her appearance ever so slightly since her last visit; her shoulder-length blonde hair had been tied into a neat bun. She wore the same despicably sterile uniform – an aqua blue, long-sleeved shirt, and baggy slacks of the same color. On her feet, she wore generic white trainers.
"Terrible. What's it to you?" Kazari growled, falling back on her pillow.
The orderly approached, which caused Kazari to jump. "Uiharu-san, it's perfectly alright. I understand what you're going through. I'm here for you."
Kazari chuckled; it was a weak, pathetic vocalization, without so much as a single trace of goodwill.
"Seeing you like this breaks my heart, Uiharu-san. I want to see you recover, and I want to see you leave this place, happy and healthy." The orderly spoke in a soft, almost motherly tone of voice.
"You're just someone doing your job. I understand, too. No hard feelings… do you really, though? I've done things that I should be killed for. I gave birth to a deranged monster… a monster that's the only hope Academy City has left."
The orderly frowned. She placed her hands behind her back, and sighed deeply. "It's not really polite to ask…"
"Shoot." Kazari commanded.
"Are you a… a young mother? It's just, I've heard things like this before..."
"God, no. Not a mother, not to that mistake."
Kazari leaned up from her pillow, and placed her hands in her lap. She motioned for the orderly to come closer. The orderly shook her head, but leaned forward, as if to say "I'll listen from here."
"I can't tell you anything more. I'm involved in things so deep in this City's twisted mess of lies and semi-truths, just talking about them could result in you and whatever family you have getting killed. Go. Go work, then go home to your family." Kazari practically ordered.
"If you need anything at all, Uiharu-san, just…"
"I know. Press the button." Uiharu Kazari huffed, irritated, as she tapped on the underside of her bed.
As the orderly smiled thinly and went to turn away, another orderly had arrived. He was older – Kazari took a moment to look him up and down. Brown, slicked back hair, with hints of silver visible in parts sat atop his head. His face was clean-cut, and his dark brown eyes held very little concern for anything, perhaps save his own wants and needs.
"Uiharu-san, someone's requesting a visitation with you. I took the liberty of informing them that visitation hours are over, but they'll hear none of. They claim to be a 'close personal friend' of yours."
"Call security?" Kazari suggested, rolling her eyes.
"Surely I would've, if our reformatory had an actual, functioning human security force, Uiharu-san." The older, male orderly growled.
Kazari gave a frustrated sigh.
Shirai Kuroko had used her ability to teleport to the tenth floor of Anti Skill's school district seven headquarters; she turned the same corner that the Kamijous had turned during their second encounter with the monstrous machine that had come to reside there. Her head throbbed, and for a moment, Kuroko stumbled, before she regained her footing.
Kuroko was partly surprised to find Devastator's holding cell, and the holding cells near it intact; she had half-expected the unhinged machine to betray her and Anti Skill. As she peered through the bars of Devastator's holding cell, she found it in the same position that it had been in when she had left it the day after its second meeting with the Kamijous. It stood in the corner of the cell, its arms at its sides, its eyes and the lights on its body unilluminated.
Kuroko took a step into the cell, ducking beneath the collection of mangled, twisted bars. Shards of broken metal crunched beneath her booted feet. As her footfalls continued, the darkened holding cell was suddenly awash in color; everything went from dark to light. Shirai Kuroko's head instantly darted up, and her mind consciously registered what had happened.
The cell had been bathed in cyan light. Devastator's 'blinking' eyes, along with its endoskeletal torso and shoulders were the source of the illumination. The monstrous machine began to chuckle inhumanly. Its body produced a series of hums as it jerked to life, and walked towards Kuroko, rolling its shoulders as it did so.
"Deputy. Whoever do I owe the pleasure of your visit?" Devastator inquired.
"I don't think I can be a "deputy" for much longer. Devastator, we need to talk. I have questions, and I'd like it if you answered them truthfully." Kuroko stated. Her face was stern, her lips straightened into a neutral expression.
"Would I ever lie to you, Deputy?"
"We're going to find out."
Kuroko cleared her throat, and crossed her arms. Devastator looked down at the teleporter; its lack of a face unnerved her, but Kuroko wouldn't show it. Hundreds of tiny mechanical arms sat just beneath the metal that made up Devastator's wireframe head. They caused various parts of the head, such as its 'lips', and its 'brow ridge' to move; to Kuroko, it looked as if Devastator's wireframe head was attempting to form facial expressions, regardless of whether or not it had a face.
"My fellow officers and I found cadavers in an abandoned property in district ten; my superior identified the cadavers as members of the militaristic terrorist organization known as Deadlock. Please answer me, Devastator? Were you in any way involved in this?"
The machine shrugged its shoulders indifferently, and turned to its holding cell's bed. "Deadlock? Deadlock and I… we don't get along. We don't see eye to eye on a lot of issues, such as the fact that they still exist."
Kuroko raised an eyebrow quizzically.
The machine picked something up from its bed's sheets, and placed it inside of its skeletal frame. "Now that you're here, Deputy, and now that you seem to be deeply invested, I think it's time we started moving this operation along. Deadlock are puppets, nothing more. Dancing marinates. You can kill as many of them as you want; they keep coming back. You blow up a safehouse, and for every one that dies, another two take their place. To answer your question, I'll need to ask my own. How old were these "cadavers"? I haven't been out on a joyride in weeks," Devastator spoke.
"Don't know, myself. My superior said they were "old", and "not fresh". I wasn't… able to get a good look at them." Kuroko explained. She turned her attention to the area of the machine's skeletal frame where the mysterious object had been placed.
"Old? Yep, that was me. Any Deadlock I've left lying around have got to be in the advanced stages of decomposition, by now!" Devastator proclaimed, an air of cold, unfeeling proudness clashed with the warmth of its synthetic voice.
"You sound fairly unperturbed. Those were people, Devastator!" Kuroko chastised. The machine emulated the sound of a human's sigh, and threw its hands into the air out of frustration. Shirai Kuroko watched it, as it paced about the holding cell.
"Deadlock aren't people, Deputy. How many times am I going to have to explain this to you? I…" the machine's voice trailed off, as it stopped in its tracks. It looked in Kuroko's direction, and, uncharacteristically, the teleporter was overcome by a primal desire to flee. Its metallic wireframe head, that lacked even a piece of a real face became completely emotionless, and it caused Kuroko great unease. Devastator leaned in.
"Let's talk, Deputy. Let's talk about them; Deadlock, that is. More importantly, let's talk about their overall irrelevance. You want to see Academy City saved. You want everything to get better, but you don't want to take action. You want someone else to save Academy City for you. You're just like the star-crossed lovers. If anyone's going to save Academy City, it's going to be people like us, like the star-crossed lovers. I knew, as soon as that irritatingly persuasive hero and the Mental Out walk in here, willingly, there was something different there, Deputy. Between you and yours, I didn't see anyone else out there on that warm night, trying to stop that iron… something or other.
"I'm going to help you make the great step that you need to make. I don't have a lot to go on, but it's enough, for now – my mother and I heard a rumor that, in district ten's reformatory, there's a Supirium operation being overseen by a mind controlling anima- esper. Given that their kind can't get inside my head, I would obviously be the figurative man for the job.
"How does this apply to Deadlock at all, you're wondering? I need a makeover, Deputy. I look worse than I feel. Then, with a shell of Supirium, I can get to work on helping you and yours save Academy City, if that's truly what you want, and I can get to work on finding my boy, and destroying the banes of my existence."
Kuroko quickly put the pieces together. Her arms remained crossed, and she maintained her cool, stern appearance. Inwardly, however, Shirai Kuroko was torn. Little did Shirai Kuroko know that days prior, another had this very same inner conflict, faced with an impossible decision and an imposing mechanical monstrosity.
"How are you going to operate like this? You'll have to travel by night, and even then, if someone sees you, everything will just get so much worse!" Kuroko exclaimed, frustrated and conflicted.
Devastator 'laughed', and moved to pat Kuroko on the head; she quickly sidestepped the attempt at mock-affection, which caused the machine to stare down at her awkwardly, unmoving again.
"Isn't it obvious, Deputy? I'll need a disguise! In a wasteland of crime and disorder, an anonymous, caped hero appearing out of nowhere isn't so inconceivable, is it? Besides, I had an idea the other day, while you were busy leaving me to rot in my own misery," Devastator exclaimed excitedly.
"Things got busy! Devastator, I didn't mean t…"
"Hush, Deputy! Hush little Deputy, don't you cry. It was a self-depreciative jab," the mechanical monstrosity retorted. It motioned for Kuroko to follow, as it ducked beneath the entranceway of twisted metal that Kuroko had entered from. The Anti Skill officer rubbed her temples and cursed under her breath as she followed the machine.
"Candidly speaking, I did have an idea. I think I've found a loophole in this curse. How I didn't think of it sooner is beyond my knowing! My boy can't make lasting memories of me, no… but he could very well make lasting memories of an alternate identity, so long as he isn't aware that it's yours truly behind the mask. It would be a grim mockery of a friendship, but a friendship nonetheless." Devastator spoke.
Kuroko didn't immediately answer. The machine seemed to mean well enough; thus far, it had only killed criminals, and though it had attacked her precious Onee-Sama, it had done so in fits of rage. Kuroko couldn't know if there was true malice behind its actions, or if it was merely a confused construct.
"Waiting, here. It's okay, though. I've got all the time in the world…" Devastator commented, as it leaned against a wall; it and Kuroko had only managed to walk fifteen or so feet, before the Anti Skill officer had come to a stop.
"If I let you go, I could be responsible for an untold number of deaths! Who knows what you could do?! This isn't a decision for someone like me to make! I'm just… I'm just Shirai Kuroko! I'm just an officer of the law, trying to keep my dying home from falling apart! I'm just trying to keep people SAFE!" Kuroko screamed in frustration, guilt, and grief all rolled up into one fist that struck her higher mind with terrible force.
As Kuroko slumped to the floor, her body shaking, Devastator fell to one knee. Its emotionless, faceless head peered down at the pathetic sight before it.
"It's not a matter of letting me go. I can leave anytime I want; I'm no puppet. What you're doing, this isn't the way to keep people safe, Deputy. I don't kill anyone who matters; because it's not what my boy would want. He wouldn't want his papa to be a murderer, so, his papa isn't one.
"Everything I do is for my boy. I live for him. If I could, I'd die for him. If he had wanted me to, I would've fought the entire world for him, I would've crushed the army of every nation for him, if he would've wanted me to… but he didn't want me to, and so I won't. Why do you think, Deputy, that I accepted your offer? I could've killed you. I could've found a way to kill the Railgun, too, but that's not what my boy would've wanted. The Kiharas? The gangs? Deadlock? Not people. If you don't kill them, they'll kill you. Face facts, Deputy! There's no happy ending, unless you make one!"
Shirai Kuroko looked up at the machine before her, and allowed her lips to form uncensored words. "You're so inhuman, you're everything I'm not… I can't relate to you, at all, and yet, when you talk about your son, or whatever this boy might be to you, I feel like there's something I can grasp onto; some shred of humanity."
"I take that as a no, then." Devastator replied solemnly.
"You're wrong." Kuroko retorted. She rose up from the floor, dusting her knees and lower legs as she did so. Devastator's head followed her movements, swivelling on its neck. "I… I want to trust you. We haven't gotten to know one another well, because… well, I feel like you're unknowable. Still, you've been honest with me. Nobody reported seeing you leave, and nobody reported seeing you enter. Every time I've checked on you, you've just been… here. Waiting. For me."
Devastator turned its back to Shirai Kuroko, its body humming as it began to walk away from her. "I've spent the last five years waiting, Deputy. Patience is a virtue I've come to know all too well; but I tire of waiting, and I tire of being patient. Inaction is the greatest crime."
"I told you I'd help you, didn't I? I told you "we'd" help you get your everything back… but so far, it's just been me. There's been so much happening to me lately. "We" have our work cut out for us. My superior has assured us a place on the OFFICER Network's death sentence list, my… friend, recently became my lover…"
"Congratulations. Don't let them slip away from you." Devastator interrupted.
"Thank… you? Everything is just so different." Kuroko said with a sigh. She didn't feel any less conflicted. Shirai Kuroko had two opposing forces tugging at either side of her consciousness, threatening to tear her apart if she didn't obey one or the other.
"How about this? Accompany me, Deputy. We'll get my mother, I have irregular contact with one of the most effective mercenaries in Academy City, and then, we'll get to work. We'll form…"
"A gang? A group? A cabal?" Kuroko rambled.
"A clique."
Kuroko raised an eyebrow in confusion. Her head throbbed again, and she instinctively raised her index fingers to her temples, in an attempt to ease the inconsistent jolts of pain.
"I've really got to lay off using my ability so rapidly… but, a clique? Isn't that a little bit, I don't know, immature? I remember there being cliques in middle school, but, it's something people grow out of." The Anti Skill officer spoke.
"I'd argue against that statement. What's a gang, really? What's Deadlock? They're cliques with guns and anima- ESPER abilities. We'll be the greatest clique. We'll be the clique to end all cliques!" Devastator exclaimed, grasping at the air with one if its hands. Its fist closed, and it peered down at the unimpressed-looking Shirai Kuroko.
"I still have so many questions… how do you plan to get… her? Who's this mercenary you're talking about? Is it Kinuhata?" Kuroko inquired, shaking her head from side to side.
"It's fairly obvious that you're not ready to protect what you hold dear; no trouble. I will do it for you, Deputy. My waiting has been in vain… though frustrating, I know that your heart's in the right place." Devastator turned to face Kuroko, and proceeded to raise its left wrist. Kuroko's heart began to beat at a quickened pace in her chest, and she was prepared to perform a swift mental calculation at any given second, in order to avoid the attack she knew would follow that action.
A particle stream emerged, and surged in Kuroko's general direction; Kuroko vanished in the blink of an eye. The stream destroyed the wall, and shattered the window at the end of the hall. Broken glass flew from the window's frame. In another blink, she appeared behind the mechanical monstrosity, two daggers in hand.
"Why?!" Kuroko demanded, panting, rage in her voice. "Why would you…" Shirai Kuroko silenced herself immediately.
"It's not a matter of letting me go. I can leave anytime I want; I'm no puppet."
"I'm sorry. I… things have changed. I should've known better, but I never could've foreseen…" Kuroko stopped talking. Her lips closed shut, and she peered up at the security camera that sat in the corner of hall, its lens focused on the Anti Skill officer and the machine that stood before her. For a moment, she was reminded of the OFFICER Network, and how absolutely helpless she felt, and how absolutely hopeless Academy City's situation was.
"Devastator, explain everything to me on the way. I need to call someone very important to me, before we leave. They might just come with us." Kuroko firmly stated.
"Deputy? What's with the sudden change of heart? Don't you have problems to ignore?" Devastator inquired, cocking its head to one side.
"I'm done with ignoring, I'm done with pretending, and I'm done being a prisoner in my home. The Darkness of Academy City has made enough of us suffer. I'm done with everything." Kuroko growled in response. "It's time I take my home back."
Sharkbite, the Watcher, and Burglar found themselves in an all too familiar predicament. Sitting in the front seat of his beat-up old vehicle, Sharkbite took a sip from his bottle of orange juice, which was held in his gnarled, bloodied right hand. His equally bloodied left sat on the steering wheel. In the back of the vehicle, the Watcher, grinning widely, flipped through something on his phone. He showed whatever it was to Burglar, who rolled his eyes and turned away. The Watcher's grin faded, and he grumbled in annoyance.
"'Ey, Fagbite, call this asshat again. Motherfucker's clearly home, he's dodging us." The Watcher snarled, pointing to the upper floor of Kihara Gunpei's fortified mansion-fortress.
Sharkbite seethed. His wrinkled brow furrowed, and he gripped the wheel of his dingy vehicle tighter. "Fuckin… hold up." The man-beast ripped his phone from the pocket of his armored cargo pants, dialled the number of their temporary employer on the device's virtual keypad, and placed the device to his ear.
"You know those things give you brain cancer, yeah? You don't need to get any dumber," The Watcher taunted. Sharkbite gritted his teeth, but didn't rise to the bait.
"Hello?! Hello! Hi! Sorry! Who is this? Who's ringing my personal line? Is this a business inquiry? No, I wore a condom when I fucked Enshuu! Fuck off!" The voice of Kihara Gunpei frantically exclaimed.
"It's the Dreadsaws. Your contacts have all been really tight, but the last one's ghost. Went to the spot you gave us, and there wasn't a sign of shit. It was just an empty lot," Sharkbite explained. Burglar raised an eyebrow, and leaned forward.
"What're you doin'?" The Watcher hissed, jabbing Burglar in the side with the sausage-like index finger of his gaunt hand.
"Listening." Burglar retorted, his voice a whisper.
"Ah… ah, well, that, ah, that's different. Th-that's good, though! You got five or six, then? G-good work, boys. I knew I could count on you. Listen, why don't you boys come on up? I see you out there; we can talk, you can deliver the d… drivers, I can keep them nice, and safe, and then we can work on finding the eighth and ninth t-together!" Gunpei suggested. Sharkbite made note of the mania in his temporary employer's voice. The founder of the Dreadsaw Gang clicked his tongue in annoyance.
"If you've got the funds, we've got your chips." Sharkbite stated firmly.
"Yeah, yeah! I'll have it t-transferred to your overseas tax haven as soon as you get into my o-office! I've got this thing, among other things and people, by the ass! BY THE ASS!" Kihara Gunpei shouted; Sharkbite cringed, and the Watcher attempted to squeeze himself into the small space between the car's front seats. Burglar shoved his compatriot out of the way.
"Yeah, alright. We're comin' up. Better not be any girls up there."
Kihara Gunpei quickly disconnected the call. A heavily armored guard who stood before the gate of Gunpei's mansion looked to be speaking to someone directly before him, though there was no one there that could be seen. The guard's head stopped bobbing, and the gate behind them opened, as two of the three members of the Dreadsaw Gang stepped through. Shortly behind them, the third followed; in his right hand, Burglar carried a small metallic briefcase, fingers wrapped tightly around its handle.
The trio approached the door and, with a flick of Sharkbite's wrist, the mansion's door swung open. Though the same older gentleman the Dreadsaw Gang had encountered on their previous visit approached, he spared them a glance, and produced a short "mhm", as if satisfied. As quickly as the older gentleman had come, he left, returning to his duties. The trio spared no time in climbing the grand staircase that lead up to the mansion's second floor.
Sharkbite approached the door to Kihara Gunpei's office, grunted, and proceeded to push his bulky form against it. With one great shove, the door flew open.
"Unnecessary, but it gets the point across… Fagbite." The Watcher commented.
Sharkbite didn't respond. Instead, he focused intently on the three individuals, two of whom were flanking either side of Kihara Gunpei's desk.
One, who stood to the desk's left, he didn't recognize – she was a younger-looking woman with bright, wide sky blue eyes, and charcoal hair, which was styled in two elegant, long ponytails that ran down her back. She wore a sleeveless, bright red hooded sweater, and a short red dress. On her feet, she wore a pair of canvas shoes that matched the color of her hair.
To the desk's immediate right was someone Sharkbite recognized all too well. Standing tall and dignified-looking, was a strangely garbed individual. Their body was fully clad in a tight-fitting bright red armored suit, and their face couldn't be seen – it was obscured by a full-face helmet. The helmet, save its bright red visor, was featureless. From each of the suit's elbows, there was a long fin, that ended in a fine, sharpened tip. On the suit's back, there was an odd, mechanical-looking apparatus that, outwardly, resembled some type of backpack. Four grooves were present on the device, which was strapped to the oddly garbed individual's back with a series of tightly-fitted wires.
"Who the fuck is this clown?" Sharkbite demanded, pointing a finger at Gunpei's strangely garbed guest. "I don't do business with Deadlock. Too much heat. I'm not trying to wake up in the middle of the night with some mobster breathing down my neck."
"The mighty Dreadsaw Gang. It's a pleasure to meet with you again!" The strangely garbed individual politely spoke. They extended their armored hand in salutation. Sharkbite looked down at it momentarily, and proceeded to spit onto the floor.
"Man! I just… I just totally had that cleaned, dude. Enshuu, go get a mop!" Gunpei commanded. Enshuu gave a short, enthusiastic nod, and rushed from the room, her face emotionless.
"Deadlock? Man, we don't play that. We got beef with these busters," The Watcher spoke up, taking to Sharkbite's side. He ripped his pistol from its holster, and held it tightly in his left hand, finger curled around the trigger.
"Watcher, man… chill. Beef's beef, man. We're not here to throw down with Deadlock. We're here to get our motherfucking grip… That's it. If these clowns cross us on the street, that's different." Sharkbite stated firmly.
"Glad to see you've got a hold on that temper! Much more collected than during our last visit. Besides, Nico here isn't going to be staying around for long. We were just finishing up with talking out a business proposal. It's all just real estate jargon, you guys wouldn't understand, or care." Gunpei commented, waving the Dreadsaw Gang's concerns and comments away. "So, Nico, you know the spiel. Keep things running smoothly for now. If anything changes, which, I'm hoping it does – I'm REALLY hoping it does - I'll be sure to let you know. Sound good? Are we copasetic?" Gunpei inquired, looking to the strangely garbed individual.
"Of course, Kihara-sensei. One more thing before I take my leave…" The man named Nico spoke up.
"Yeah? I'm listening. Spit it out," Gunpei retorted, as Kihara Enshuu returned with a mop and bucket. She proceeded to mop up the wad of saliva that Sharkbite had spat from his mouth, and, without sparing anyone so much as a glance, swiftly left the room again. Burglar saw a Sharkbite's facial expression morph from irritated to sympathetic. Burglar sighed, and crossed his arms.
"The Network, and the other, more intelligent robot, Kihara-sensei. I've been hearing tales about one of our safehouses being sacked by the Network that might not be so tall." Nico replied; though his suit's helmet muffled his vocalizations, unease was more than evident in his tone of voice.
"The Network?" Gunpei scoffed. "Fuck the Network; more accurately, fuck the Director for always hacking it back. Everything would be so much easier if we had constant access to the stupid fucking Network! Speaking of which, any idea who DDoS'd us the other night, when the Iron Wall was pummelling my baby boy? I had a guy trying to trace the source, but whoever hit us was better hidden than a bus full of illegal immigrants."
Nico shook his head from side to side. "No, Kihara-sensei. If the robot attacks, though…?"
"Run. He won't hit me; I have leverage over my Devastator Unit. I can make him buzz off. I've got him on a leash, but he can hit you. You're too valuable to lose, Nico." Gunpei said, utter, incomprehensively dark seriousness in his tone of voice.
"Of course, Kihara-sensei."
Before Nico left the room, he turned to the Dreadsaw Gang, who had so far, had been patiently waiting for their chance to speak with Kihara Gunpei.
"Mr. Sharkbite. Would it be you who had the pleasure of… disabling the number four?" He inquired, arms crossed.
"No. My boys and I don't fuck with espers, unless they fuck with us, or someone wants us to fuck with them. If Meltdowner's dead, we didn't call the hit, and we didn't answer it." Sharkbite replied, fists clenched. The Watcher had holstered his weapon, but he appeared to be reaching for it.
"Ah. Curious. Your honesty is commendable; most would have jumped at the chance to claim they bagged the number four, or any level five, for that matter. I almost killed a level five, once. Came… this close." Nico reminisced. "They're pesky things. One of these days, I'd like to finish what I started. Just for the résumé."
"Maybe we'll get there first. If someone calls the hit, the Dreadsaw will be there to make it happen before you. Wouldn't that just be a bloody fucking shame, you cocksucking Deadlock twat?" Sharkbite snarled, closing the distance between himself and Nico.
"If you "answered the hit", as you so elegantly put it, before we, Deadlock, could, I would bow to your supremacy, master Sharkbite. You would also be tying up a very old loose end," Nico commented, before he took his leave.
"Don't give a fuck about your loose ends," Sharkbite snapped in response, taking a step forward, enraged. The Watcher placed his hand on Sharkbite's shoulder, and struggled to hold the man-beast back.
"Ooh! Excuse me, miss."
Nico nearly slammed into Enshuu, who had returned to the office. Gunpei slapped his knee, or what remained of it with his hand, and the android-like Kihara answered the call. Sitting herself in Gunpei's lap, Kihara Enshuu looked on at the Dreadsaw Gang.
"So – now that he's gone, let's get down to business, boys. Where're the drivers?" Kihara Gunpei inquired frantically. As Burglar held up the metallic briefcase, Gunpei practically salivated. Kihara Enshuu looked at him, but didn't appear to be phased by his behavior.
"Yeah, yeah. That's good… that's really, really good. Hahaha! Great, even! Put them on my desk! Enshuu, get to transferring these good Samaritans' funds to their account. If any of you guys want to take a trip to the sexy room, or want to have your way with Enshuu here – she's clean, by the way – just holler. It's not like any of 'em will say no!" Gunpei exclaimed, slapping his available knee with his hand as he chuckled.
Sharkbite looked into Kihara Enshuu's eyes, before they looked to the screen of the phone she had produced. Even in that split second, Sharkbite had seen nothing in them – not so much as a single hint of resignation, or regret, or anger. No emotion whatsoever. Enshuu looked up, and stared back into Sharkbite's own eyes, and she turned her head to one side. Seconds later, she looked back down to her phone.
"No trips, no fucked up one night stands. This is business," Sharkbite retorted. "Fill us in; you said something about two other chip things. The spot you gave us was a dud."
Kihara Gunpei straightened himself in his seat. He placed a hand on Kihara Enshuu's back, causing her to look back momentarily. Sharkbite found himself feeling deeply uncomfortable. He felt Burglar's eyes drilling into the back of his head.
"Way I see it? There's a HUGE possibility that the ass-muncher running the dead drop location realized what he had, or thinks that he knows what he has, and took off to try and sell it. I'll find the fucker, don't you worry, but, things are a wee bit different, now. Things are more personal, boys.
"The Iron Wall's thorough ass-kicking has inspired me to change the focus of my studies, and has sort of put one endgame result above the other, in terms of importance. Honestly? This one's on me! No way I could've known "oh, hey, the goddamn fucking RAILGUN of all people is going to show up and trash my robot!" Kihara Gunpei proclaimed. The Dreadsaw trio looked to one another, confused.
"The… Railgun? Misa… whatever? Asian names are damn weird." Sharkbite spoke up.
"Yeah, what other Railgun, knucklefuck? Oh, you mean "them". Ha. Those mass-produced sacks of meat couldn't kill a goddamn fly! So many people think that freakazoid who floated around in the big, white tower was sooooo ahead of his time, but, I'd disagree. Cloning? It was a joke! If you were able to make an army of level fives, yeah, I could see that working out, but the whole bunch of the little cunts were level twos! An army of self-aware, fire-breathing goats would've been a better idea!" Gunpei rambled.
Kihara Gunpei cleared his throat, and, as Kihara Enshuu finished with transferring the required funds to the Dreadsaw Gang's account, she stuffed her phone back in her pocket. The young woman stretched, and found Sharkbite looking at her yet again. Emotionless, the Kihara-to-be stared back.
"Listen; I'm going to keep these drivers for a rainy day. For the time being, I'm going to have Deadlock hunt around for the eighth and ninth drivers; it'll keep them occupied. You know how terrorists can be. If they're not blowing something, or somebody up every five seconds, they get REALLY FUCKING CRABBY! Your job here is done, boys, by golly gosh… but, if the Railgun's going to be involving herself in my business, I could pass you off to someone who knows more about messing with the Railgun than I do," Kihara Gunpei said, clasping his hands, and placing them neatly on the table.
"Get to the point, man. Is this 'someone' going to pay us? We ain't a charity," The Watcher spoke up. Sharkbite grunted at his compatriot.
"You boys love your money! It's totally rad, dude! I love money, too. Money buys you nice houses, and slave gir- I mean, willing, consenting girls who I pay to live here with me, and, most of all, it buys loyalty.
"If you want more money, and, if you look at the funds in your overseas account, I'm sure you will, here… I'm going to give you the contact information of a… a friend of mine. I'll make all the arrangements beforehand, so you can just waltz in whenever you've got free time. Name's Kihara Gensei. Radical old man, if science gone awry and eldritch abominations not meant to be seen by man is your scene." Kihara Gunpei offered, with a grin stretched across his face.
Sharkbite looked back to his two compatriots, and then to Kihara Enshuu.
"No. I don't know about these two, but I'm done working with you. There is one thing I'm interested in, though. You sell these girls? How much for her?" Sharkbite inquired, motioning towards Enshuu.
"Do I?! Of course I do. Enshuu, though? You're the first dumbass to ask! Are you sure you don't want to have a look at my stock in the sexy room? Why the fuck do you want her? She's useless. Just something to periodically use to get off, at least that's the only use I've found for her. I don't really have a set price… how about… I dunno. ¥600,000? Seems like a fair deal, to me; she's in possession of Mental Out. If you can get the bitch to actually use it, you could rob as many banks as you want with an ability like that!" Gunpei exclaimed. "Just don't try that shit on my forces; I've got their heads all rigged up."
Even then, Kihara Enshuu didn't seem to be concerned by the fact that the price of her existence was being negotiated before her eyes.
"Yeah. Burglar, get this shit worked out," Sharkbite commanded. Burglar, though having a perturbed expression on his usually passive face, obeyed the order. He produced his smartphone, and began to work.
"Alright, well, it's been nice knowing you, stupid. Beat it! Scram! You're the Dreadsaws', now! That's one less annoyance to put up with!" Kihara Gunpei exclaimed. Utterly servile, Kihara Enshuu removed herself from Gunpei's lap, and made her way to Sharkbite's side. The gruff man-beast looked down at her, and she looked up at him. As he, the Watcher, and Enshuu made their way out of Gunpei's officer, Burglar finished with his transferring of the necessary funds, he looked up to Kihara Gunpei for a moment.
"Life is strange… some things don't go the way you planned them out." Burglar stated.
"You can say that again; don't, actually say it again, by the way." Gunpei remarked, wheeling himself out from behind his desk. "If you can get her to use that ability, I might have to borrow her from time to time. Just a heads up."
Burglar shrugged indifferently, stuffed his phone back into his shorts' pocket, and turned away.