Up the steps he walked, half dragging his feet in weariness as he finally reached the floor of his apartment, a drab-faced complex that looked like any other. A shelter sold to the lowest bidder, or in his case, to the lowest class of society (as far as someone was concerned...). Isao Kato turned from the stairs, reaching his door as he fumbled for the keys with a sigh.

'Right on time.'

Yomikawa blinked, his stare through the binoculars now hungrier than before. He jotted a note in his head: 12pm, afternoon, give or take a few minutes. Kato had returned from his usual shopping, likely his lunch in the contents of that bag. Nothing too big, nothing too special he predicted. Like the reports said, Yomikawa had long known that Kato lived by himself. He looked after himself, he took care of himself, he let no one else in his life.

Not that he had any choice in that matter. Even where he lived was made outside of his choice. Third floor, Room 17, corner of the staircase. Such was the arrangement entailed long after Kato was indicted. And no sooner was he uncuffed into the service of the First Virtual Security Division that he was to remain under surveillance - "protective custody" as it was called. And the only thing he was being protected from was himself. Nothing Kato would do could escape the eyes and ears of the police who were less than a phone call away. And neither would they escape his.

In silence Yomikawa continued his close observation of the convict. Through the lens of the binoculars the teenage boy's short spiky brown hair and stickman-like physique was all too familiar with him. His skin seemed to blend into the white concrete. Were it not for the high noon he would have thought that the sun would have made his skin burn and wither. At least it wouldn't be a problem for him as Yomikawa made sure, living across the street from Kato as his "neighbour". His mouth wrinkled at the notion.

Yomikawa watched in silence as Kato continued to fumble for his keys. He surmised that his shopping was making it rather cumbersome for him, having to fetch them one-handed. He also surmised some muttered curse words from his target though they would go unheard. Kato turned his head to recover his keys and at that moment he paused. A person stepped inside Yomikawa's view. She approached Kato, the greeting unable to reach Yomikawa's ears but he already knew her to be a neighbor; he had seen this particular woman - possibly a mother - on multiple occasions, tenant of an apartment just a couple doors down on the same floor. Who she was exactly, Yomikawa wasn't sure. He also wasn't sure how close they were if at all or whether-

Yomikawa sighed to himself. A serious-faced man, twenty-five years of age and looking more like a grumpy salaryman and the last thing he wanted on his mind was associating his surveillance duties with being a peeping tom. That woman was not a suspect after all. He focused, returning to Kato. His neighbor greeted him, welcoming as usual. And as usual Kato brushed her off. Yomikawa saw all the signs: the unenthused posture, the restrained movement of his head as if unaware - or unwilling - to face her, and the immediate reaction of the neighbor. He watched as the hopeful look faltered but as quickly as it flickered the woman kept trying, presumably still clinging onto hope that this estranged teenager could be reached out to, cared for with what sympathy she had. But still the same outcome. And now that Kato had finally unlocked the door, the exchange had promptly ended. The woman lingered, her eyes turned away from Yomikawa's view. But from the way she glanced at the door, he could imagine the neighbor's concern. But even she too understood the futility and went on her merry day.

Yomikawa frowned at the sight. Par for the course for a convict like him, yet it continued to rub Yomikawa the wrong way. Such disrespect for the elders… he wondered just what went wrong with Kato's upbringing.

But a question for another time. Yomikawa lowered his binoculars with a sigh. With the convict out of sight there was no point. What scant windows that faced his way were perpetually buried under curtains and wraps. He immediately wondered what went on behind the veil, behind the walls and doors that guaranteed his right of privacy. But as much as he wondered, there were to be limits to how he would satisfy his curiosity, some lines not to be crossed. But no matter - cheap apartments like the one Kato was arranged for had a predictable layout that left little to Yomikawa's imagination. Like today, he had been closely monitoring his movements to and fro his dwelling, tracking what went in and out.

Nothing would escape the notice of the Tokyo police - his especially. Yomikawa withdrew to his quarters, his watch done. For now.

Tanizaki landed on the ground, her trainer soles softening the drop. A metre or so to drop down from was nothing she wasn't used to - an elementary move. In fact, such drops bored her - they didn't even hurt!

Like a cat landing on its feet, Tanizaki was already up and away, briskly stepping out from the alley barely looking both ways as she did. She paid the precaution no mind: even if people climbing up and over walls and ledges in public spaces made for appalling displays, what were witnesses going to do? Will the cops to arrive with their silent stares? For all the uptight nature advertised in Japanese society it certainly proved to have plenty of holes someone like her could exploit. Perhaps any such witnesses could just assume she was a tomboy delinquent and leave it at that, privately shaking their heads as they did. Tomboy, most definitely; Tanizaki had yet to meet another girl her age who takes free-running and parkour as a substitute for exercise. Delinquent? She wasn't so sure about that - the actual punks she'd come across in her myriad "shortcuts" were bigger wimps compared to the kind she'd expect in America.

Speaking of shortcuts, there it was: the shopping plaza. Tanizaki briskly slipped inside, finding herself in the building's massive atrium. Floors of the mall flanked all around the room, connected by arteries of escalators and elevators both seen and implied. Tanizaki took in the sight but already her feet were in impatient motion; she already had in mind where she intended to go. As much as the mall's environment tempted her, Tanizaki knew better than to take any "shortcuts". Way too many witnesses and not enough explanations to cover for her.

Rapid ascent up the stairs (she found the escalators dull and stifling for her), she was there. Bright backdrop and slanted font of the store front welcomed Tanizaki to the music store. She reached the isles, her pace slowing as she perused the contents. Thumbing through the cases, she judged the covers; on occasions did she bring a candidate for a hearing but none have been satisfactory. 'Hm… Isn't there anything fast and heavy that'll get me in the mood? I know there's Japanese songs that're like that, they have to exist. Unless that genre's exclusively for anime and videogame soundtracks...'

She yawned, then dug wax from her ears. She tapped her foot, fidgeted around - never a second was spent standing still. But minutes of fruitless searching soon proved to be much for Tanizaki and setting a CD case down she had to concede defeat. "Bummer. I was hoping for something new. Listening to the Crush 9s, tripSide, or even Elsa Kanzaki all day gets boring enough."

Tanizaki sighed as she walked out, finding herself back in the mall's corridors before she knew it. As she muttered to herself on where else to browse, a call caught her ears. "... interested in door-to-door sales and courier work? We're looking for friendly faces for help! Part-time position available!"

Off to the side, a uniformed young man stood with sign in hand and a display stand as escort. On it, Tanizaki did not recognize the business but it was evident that they were on the look out for additional pairs of hands for help - or more specifically, one pair. Available positions had already swelled and now they were advertising the last seat to be vied over.

Tanizaki gave it a thought. She had plenty of time outside her job for another one and she seemed to fit the bill - there would be no one better suited to outdoor activity than herself. It could help beat the doldrums of inactivity. Plus the part-time pay wasn't too bad.

Alright, it's worth a shot.

Tanizaki approached the man who immediately took notice. "Good morning, miss. I'm with the TakuHaven delivery and courier service. Is there anything I can help you with?" He spoke formally despite his relative youth.

"Yeah. You were offering a part-time position? You were talking about it just now."

The man's face flickered. "Oh, yes. We have one spot for direct delivery still vacant. We're interested in anyone willing for the position."

Before Tanizaki could open her mouth, the man's eyes shifted to the side in acknowledgement of another presence. "Hello, miss! I'm with the TakuHaven delivery and courier service."

Tanizaki turned to see a placid-looking young woman with mirror-like black hair standing beside her, only a couple inches shorter than she was. Her hair trimmed like lines and a tender face - a real Japanese native, even if the characteristics wouldn't be out of place for "background character in an anime" material. "Um, I would be interested in the part-time position, if at all possible."

This time, the man's face lit up. "Of course! The applicant we're looking for is someone who can handle making personal deliveries, be it mail or parcels. We're looking for someone who can best represent our services."

"Um, I may be inexperienced, but I'll try my best!" The woman even put on a determined face which came across as adorable more than anything else. Tanizaki almost laughed out loud at the cliched gesture and would have were it not for the man giving her his full attention with a welcoming smile. "Wonderful! Please sign this form along with contact information."

Tanizaki looked at the man bewildered. "H-hey, what about me?"

"I'm sorry miss, but the position is now occupied. Unfortunately, I do not know when another position will be available."

She could only stand flabbergasted. But it was clear that the decision had been made, that there was no going back, and that she had more or less been forgotten by the man as he and the new hire went about working over the details. Tanizaki gave out an annoyed groan as she sauntered off sulking - even they didn't seem to notice her departure.

She took a few steps to leave, but as she looked ahead, a familiar image greeted her: a spry girl, late teenage years with short-trimmed hazel-brown almost reddish hair, with casual clothing of clashing flashy colors. It was a shining mirror conveniently placed before her, capturing Tanizaki within its frame. The image was all too familiar to her yet she found herself stopping for a good look. She saw herself - what made her who she is - but it was one thing in particular that she looked at.

It was not her choice of clothes, so out of place for a girl in this society. It was not her height, for she was average (relatively speaking). It wasn't her hair, the color uncommon but not improbable.

It was her own face. Wider round eyes, subtle but sharper outline of her features, and a skin that was a slight tint darker. It was the look of her foreign influence. Even at a glance it was obvious - she acted different and looked different. Different from the standards of this country that she was half part of. Supposed to be part of. This wasn't America anymore after all.

Tanizaki promptly walked away without looking back.

Elsewhere in the city, the mood could not be any more different. Where the urban heart of Tokyo beated with the sounds of traffic and pedestrians and with the sights of neon and lights, there lied a more recluse world of monotone green. Where there was the concrete jungle and earth of asphalt, there was simply lush but trimmed shrubbery, cobblestone, and mere dirt. Life was everywhere but was kept to a more respectful placidity of a library. A cool breeze brought with it a swirl of loose leaves and sweet scent of fresh air. Birds fluttered between branches, singing various choirs in natural harmony.

Such was the spring season of the Tokyo city park, and all the more reason why Narumi Noriko chose this occasion to visit.

She strode along the park's path, it was carpeted with leaves that crunched softly under her steps. A frequent but classical, even timeless, sound of the outdoors. Sometimes, with how quickly the world moved it was simple to forget the roots of the old. And in this particular era, it could be all to easy to do so.

Narumi woke herself from those philosophical observations in time to duck under a low-hanging branch. Well, "low-hanging" was relative. What would slip over most heads, it would not to Narumi's. Even as she walked among others, her height gave her new perspective. Just as her head would poke above a crowd like a giraffe, this characteristic of her made Narumi all the more noticeable.

A crowd of young girls, their matching uniforms denoting a shared academy, happened to walk by. Whatever they had been actively discussing among themselves had swiftly evaporated when they noticed with awe at the proverbial giant of a young adult woman with sharp green eyes and flowing dark auburn hair striding past them.

"Woah, look at her…!" one ushered in a whisper.

"Reminds me of someone else we know..." another quietly murmured as they walked away out of earshot. As hushed as they made their comments, Narumi heard everything. But she paid them no mind. She was used to hearing people talk of her unique stature, whether they were compliments or odd looks. But such quality ran in her family; it was what made her who she was and there was nothing she found to be embarrassed of (although she could perfectly understand how inconvenient it could be with how chronic low-hanging signs were on the streets).

Narumi walked past another onlooker, with predictable results. Out of the corner of her vision, she made out the young man's eyes looking up before she caught them glancing down for a split second before walking away.

Narumi also remembered that she had, to borrow a term that so many casually employ, quite a generous figure. In the back of her mind, she wondered how much of the stares she got were about her height or her looks. Perhaps musing over the probabilities would give her curiosity some recreational food for thought.

Eventually, she found and sat at a wooden bench worn with age. The bench rested beside a quiet cobble path were very few walked, with a pleasant view over a small pond and trees separating the busy roads to the tranquility of this particular park. Only the odd skyscraper was visible over the thick covering. Green moss had begun to clung onto the bench's planks, thriving on moisture from a recently ended heavy drizzle. Dark grey fluffy clouds that swirled above started to dissipate, allowing rays of sunlight to pass between the gaps. Finally, Narumi could relax. No interference, no distractions, and no loud noises.

"Time to use this, should work now." From a small pocket on her green jacket, Narumi grabbed an Augma. She'd been gifted it by Honda for her studies at Kyoto University alongside supposedly 'improved efficiency and connectivity' at the First Virtual Security Division. It had barely been out a week and had quite quickly become a more common appearance (especially with the announcement of Augma exclusive software and games). In fact, the device was sold out in many markets. For Narumi, this gadget just looked like a natural progression of her phone. Even if it resembled a high tech microphone that looped over an ear.

Carefully, she clicked open the arms and placed the Augma over her left eye. Then, Narumi pressed a small diamond shaped button on the Augma just under the ear (which had the Augma logo patterned on its surface). Immediately, the device whirred into life. Kamura's logo dominated the view for a brief few seconds until it cleared. It left two thin lines at the top and bottom of her view, alongside the time above the top line, all white in colour. Four coloured circular tabs lined the bottom, each with different symbols. The furthest left tab was for a map, both street and top down views were available; the next was for exclusive content like games, alongside access to a browser; the one after that was for the calendar, with the capability to set deadlines and reminders; then finally but not least the News and weather forecast, which included reports done by various companies.

Narumi begun to memorise the key words required to open the tabs, alongside reading a small black instruction manual thick enough to rival a novel. "Maps. Games. Calendar. News." It was a start. She just needed to connect up her other devices for easier access.

However, her time to test out the Augma suddenly came to an end. Her phone began to ring from her bag. She answered hastily.

"Noriko! Sorry to disturb ya on your alone time but… can ya pick up some stuff on your way back?" It was her impulsive yet always eager younger sister.

Narumi sighed heavily, taking off the Augma. "Yes Ami… I will. What do I need to pick up exactly?"

"Only a few things! Two cartons of milk, a chocolate bar with nuts and some ramen. Any flavour will do. Oh, oh oh! Make sure to pick up this week's magazine for MMO Today! Forgot to get one last time I went downtown!"

"Anything else?" Narumi managed to jot everything down onto a small leather notepad she kept in another coat pocket.

"Hmm, nothing I can think of right now. I'll let ya know if I think of anything else! Ta!"

Just like that, the conversation ceased. Narumi was more than use to such conversations, her sister and herself were two sides of a coin. Whatever decision she would make, her sister would do the opposite. But, Narumi couldn't complain much. If it wasn't for her sister, she would have found talking to others much more difficult. Either way, her experimentation on the Augma (as well as setting it up for general usage) would have to wait.

Gently, she placed all of her belongings back into her bag. The Phone went in first then the Augma, now mostly ready for future use. Then, she set off back to her home and past a small corner shop to find what her sister wanted.

Narumi would also buy a biweekly magazine named 'Ground Warfare' for herself.

Evening, Gun Shield HQ

SBC Glocken

Even as dusk approached, the Glocken was as busy as ever. Thankfully, Oracle thought, they were quite far away and behind soundproof walls and glass as well as being a couple dozen feet below. Thus, he could focus on his work yet again. Even on his days off the advisor of Gun Shield kept a very close eye on Gun Gale Online. Not for his amusement, but for any piece of information that would "require further research". He was never off duty, no matter the time or place. Even if his superiors get frustrated over it, Oracle could be pleased in some shape or form that he is doing his duty. A duty to protect and maintain order where none existed. To him at least.

He stared out the window at the same view he had seen day in and out. Below was endless metal pathways, spiralling down into the dark abyss. Other Skyscrapers rose above the darkness, basking in the luminous sunset glow, and met Oracle's glaze face to face. Mesh like corridors wrapped themselves around the skyscrapers, each packed with players travelling for countless reasons. Beyond the walkways and skyscrapers, was the Lighthouse, a structure that reached into the clouds. By far the tallest structure in all of the Glocken, its lights were a beacon that guided players from across the apocalyptic wasteland. For now a giant ball-like structure hovered in the evening glow. The Lighthouse awaited for the time to unleash its lights, becoming a second Sun.

Only yesterday he had a stern talk with Sabretooth over Gun Shield in the very room he stood in, yet it felt much longer than that. He could still hear Ricochet's and Clover's complaints. Oracle could only shrug and dismiss any excuses made. However, the peace and quiet allowed him to continue with is current analysis.

"One day those papers on demanding Zaskar to work with the Security Division, alongside an overhaul in this Bureau, will go through." Oracle muttered to himself with mild frustration, "Endless searching through the forums and patrols can only catch so much. Much more thorough investigations and cooperation are needed- no are required for a better future. Yet, nothing happens. We must acquire actual officers to create a more… formal environment. Right now, it is simply unacceptable. One day, one day… This will all change and Honda will agree that I was right all along. Kikuoka too. Hell, it was him who put me in this situation in the first place. So much for 'experience in the force' when it barely even counts as a part of it."

Oracle did this frequently when alone during his surveillance. Ever since day one, his blood boiled when he found out who he had to work with (even more so with their backgrounds). Why did he have to work with them? It was the same for GGO as well. His previous experience in games amounted to playing mobile puzzle games in waiting rooms. Reluctantly, and with his boss's guidance from day one, Oracle got into the swing of playing a VR shooter. Whatever the future brought, he just wanted to fully qualify for the force and transfer to another division.

To temporarily forget about these ongoing questions and frustrations, he instead focused his attention on the Gun Gale Online Forums. Nearly any possible question about GGO made their way here. Most were about upcoming events and tips around running the Gungeon. Such questions flooded in constantly, drowning any other questions to the darkest depths of the forum. No one noticed them, except for Oracle. He scanned through every post, every statement, every question. Something had to be there which was unlike the rest, he thought. A singular post alerting him, and thus the rest of Gun Shield, to more illegal activities.

30 minutes crawled by. He found nothing out of the ordinary, absolutely nothing. Just hundreds upon hundreds of pages upon pages of hype and the same questions repeated (phrased differently) every page or so. The questions which were not abroad the hype train, were questions surrounding various weapons and how good they would be with certain builds.

'Would the Calico M950 or the M950A work better for an agility build?'

'What STR do I need for Vector build?'

'How viable is the PTRD-41?'

'Plasma vs explosive grenades, which is better for PvP?'

And so forth.

Such repetition bored even Oracle. So, he gave up.

Outside, the darkness crept higher as the Sun's warmth and light faded over the horizon in a red glow. Lights flickered on across the Glocken, creating a sea of neon with colours all across the rainbow beside the walkways. The Lighthouse activated, the second Sun was now online. Blue, pink and white beams of light stretched into the royal blue sky. Oracle only glanced briefly at the change of scenery. The murky sky became a kaleidoscope of light while down below the city snapped to life with the walls and surfaces alight with daily news, all cascading like a waterfall onto any interested viewers. As interesting the content was, even from the vast specimen of ingame adverts Oracle was quick to pick up on one distinct theme: the anniversary and the upcoming events that would promised to be a moment to remember. Already a distant clamor began to pick up; millions voiced their eagerness for what the future held.

But right now, Oracle could only grumble at the vast view; the glaring lights and sounds proved more of an affront to his senses. Time was more important to him now. "No point in wasting my time further..." Shutting off the forums, he switched his view to another file. "Better to invest my remaining hour and twenty-seven minutes wisely. The reports will not write themselves."

Thus, he did. He wrote into the night.

Elsewhere, while Oracle worked on ignoring the city lights, a certain Sabretooth was instead enjoying them.

Yomikawa's Personal Evaluations of Gun Shield

Part 1

SUBJECT: Honda, Andrew

OBJECTIVE: Preliminary Assessment

The key subject of this assessment, Honda Andrew, has proven to be quite an enigma. Ascertaining his character is as enlightening as it is frustrating, to say the least. At first glance, I have correctly deduced that he is of foreign descent, revealed to be half-British from his father's side. His appearance, primarily the presence of a medical eyepatch over his left eye, suggests a more exotic history than what would be assumed otherwise despite just entering in his 20s.

Sources reveal that when the First Virtual Security Division was established by Kikuoka Seijirou, Honda Andrew was appointed its head officer at Kikuoka's recommendation. Had I been a member of the Bureau's board of directors I would have raised objections to entrusting leadership to what is effectively a civilian contractor, much less someone whom we've never heard of before! Despite concerns from the Bureau and the Metropolitan Police Department, Kikuoka was able to push for Honda's case, citing his contributions in solving and apprehending a prominent criminal of the virtual world. Further inquiry revealed that Kikuoka was in pursuit of a suspect in a VRMMO game Gun Gale Online under the moniker "Death Gun" less than a month ago. Seeking those who could perform a direct but discreet investigation, Honda was the only one who accepted the offer, leveraging his personal familiarity and expertise with the game. The case then exposed "Death Gun" as a remnant of the "Laughing Coffin" group, complicit of multiple murders and manslaughter during the SAO Incident, as he intended to continue his killings in the virtual world. It is thanks to Honda's assistance that had earned Kikuoka's trust and why he recommended his place for the the policing of virtual reality. While this may be a satisfactory motive for his employment, my concerns do not end here.

Despite my findings, Honda's background appears scarce, even seemingly incomplete. Contact with his family has been inconclusive and there has been of no note from his school, a fact not helped by his foreign origins, but police records have proven to be an unexpected resource. The name Honda elicited a finding of a former detective who had cooperated with the police in numerous successful cases. Tracing his lineage, it was confirmed that Detective Honda is in fact, the father of Honda Andrew. Presumably this is where part of his acceptance originated, even if Mr. Honda's whereabouts are murky. But my search for answers have uncovered yet another surprise.

Records divulged a report submitted by the police branch in Osaka, dating back twelve years ago. In it, it detailed an armed robbery of a bus ending with the assailants arrested but not before there were casualties, among whom was one of those assailants. What drew my attention was that one of the civilian hostages was identified as the young Honda Andrew who had been accompanying his sister Erika that day. Accounts vary but it is believed that a brief shootout occurred, the circumstances surrounding it are muddy. Honda emerged from the situation with only a blinded eye, but the damage was nothing compared to his emotional and psychological wounds as stated in subsequent examinations. However, the nature of the damage has been withheld, presumably as part of patient confidentiality. What interests me is that this is the first I have heard of his sister, yet it also the last time she is mentioned. I am left hungry for more, but the complete story of what happened twelve years ago in Osaka remains unclear. To think that Honda Andrew went through this incident at his age...

Speaking freely, I cannot believe that this is the person shouldered with the responsibility to leading this unit. Honda may have promise and talent as proven by the "Death Gun" case, but if the Osaka incident is of any indication he holds within him troubling baggage that cannot - and should not - be taken lightly. I trust that he has taken treatment for his trauma but it does not take an expert to know that such wounds are not something that can easily heal. This will, in all likelihood, affect Honda's sense of judgement and rationality, and as the leader of a team sanctioned by the law enforcement, this is a huge risk factor. What's more, my personal investigation into his records have gone cold, and thus this leaves only him to fill in the blanks. If we are to entrust a disturbed civilian with enforcing the law, then I must find reason to trust him.

Perhaps it may be necessary to search for the truth in a more… direct fashion…

-Yomikawa Daichi, Junior Officer and Advisor of the First Virtual Security Division

Author's Notes:

Panzer_Bros:

And thus, with this chapter wrapped up, the great game can begin! I hope exploring the side characters that are involved in Gun Shield would help to develop them more. Please do say which is your favourite or which you'd like to see more of! Any and all feedback will be most appreciated.

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