Guess what? Good friend of mine pinktokki is fanficcing on fanfiction.net now. She's really funny. Look her up!
Okay finals are starting up soon. If I fail two subjects for the year, I get kicked out. If I get kicked out, it probably means no more computer which means no more fic.
Don't worry, the two finals tomorrow aren't in the subjects I fear I shall fail.
I trust you'll review, right? I need reviews to LIVE!!
;X; Don't make Yugo cry! Give me more reviews, for I am your GOD and I shall smite you pathetic little ants if you don-
Ummm... sorry. I'm kidding, of course.
Please enjoy. I've been wanting to do a certain introduction that occurs in this chapter for quite some time....
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
"Master..."
An older man stepped into clearer view. He was dressed in yellow and he wore sandals and metal guards like the ones Kenji had. His face was very serious and he had a large nose and lips. His eyes were a sickening pure white. He had very little white hair, which shot off at the sides of his head and on the top of his bald head was some kind of orange tattoo. Was it a Yin Yang?
While Kenji was still just standing there, Uriko demanded, "Who are you?"
He stood quite plainly, bringing up a hand with two raised fingers to make a calm stance.
"I am the master of Silent Death, which shall soon be yours to keep."
Uriko gulped. In a pleading voice she had never heard before, Kenji begged, "Master, please don't involve her! She had nothing to do with this!"
"I know you lie."
"You're here for Kenji, aren't you? I won't let you hurt him," the braided girl dared, "Umm, I'll fight you!"
She quickly spun around and stuck a shaky fighting stance on one foot. "Come on!"
The master silently nodded and shifted into a fighting position.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The door opened and in came the scarred man bearing food. "I'm home!" he called out to a silent house. He set the bag on the kitchen table and waited for the two youngsters to come running for their dinner.
"Er, Kenji?"
His apartment was completely still and devoid of movement and life. He did not even begin to look before his mind jumped to the correct conclusion.
"Oh, no."
In his desperation, he burst into the other rooms screaming his little brothers name. As he feared, there was no answer. They both were gone as if they had never been there.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"We're back," the master firmly stated upon entering the place his acolyte had known for years. It was the lab where the doctor worked and strange machines lined the walls. Everything was black and metallic grey. A casually dressed man was huddled at his desk. When he saw Bakuryu, he immediately jumped up to greet him, or rather his company.
"The Young Dragon is back, I see!"
He clapped his hands excitedly. He was a rather strange man to the eyes. He stood slumped over somewhat with bent knees, which made his arms and legs look unusually long, at the ends of which were rather large feet and hands. Behind his glasses were narrow eyes and underneath those was a mouth capable of one of the widest, toothiest grins. His green hair stood up, slicked into a high point atop his head. He wore very casual clothes: a brightly colored untucked shirt with large shorts and flip flops.
Bakuryu stepped back as soon as he reached out for the unconscious boy slung over his shoulder. "I think I will take care of my own heir," he explained. He then roughy placed a girl in the same condition onto the table next to him. "Perhaps she will keep you busy instead."
"I don't need another ordinary subject. I have bigger fish to fry, understand?"
The master knowingly narrowed his eyes. "I'm sure you do."
"I'll put a collar on her, but I don't really have anything to do with her, 'cause I am currently a tad on the busy side, see? And I really don't have the room for another subject, either." he told him in a bored voice as he reached into a drawer for an identification band.
"Fine then. I think I might have an experiment of my own."
"Thaaat's nice...," he dully teased. The green haired man decided he might as well take a blood sample as well. He lazily tossed the small container of the red fluid over his shoulder into his "To Do" basket, which had plenty of things to do to cushion its fall.
"Yeah! Two points!"
Just as the Fire Blast Dragon turned around to leave to his clan's section of the building, a hand tugged at his shirt.
"By the by.... I recently got another letter from Mr. Tylon..."
What is he letting him do now, the old master moaned silently.
He proudly held up the letter so Bakuryu could read it as he summarized its contents for him.
"It says I can do whatever I please to perfect the heir without your consent, anytime, and I won't have to get separate letters of permission ever again for future projects of mine. Isn't that good news?"
He had to strain to control his anger. He could not make himself say anything. It was right there on the letter with what was the current leader of Tylon's signature.
"I thought you'd like it! Now, I'll take the boy and you'll take the girl, then?"
"You had better actually improve him this time, Doctor."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He stumbled down the stairs, one hand grasped at his chest. Pain was throbbing at his insides and he could feel the flames rise up around him. He was on fire. He would have gladly jumped into a vat of molten sodium to relieve himself of the unbearable heat, but he knew that was not necessary. The one who caused this would solve this, as little as he wanted to admit it.
He just caught himself before completely falling down and over the steps. With both hands, he latched onto the banister. Sweat poured off his face and onto the concrete. Panting, he strained to stand up despite the spasms taking over his muscles. Dazed green eyes tried to focus, but the whole world was spinning around him.
"ShitFuckGod I'm in Hell..."
He could make out the man he was seeking in the lab.
"Doctor Asshole!" he shouted. He could still express his feelings even in such a state.
"What is it?" the annoyed doctor answered. As soon as he saw his patient, his face lit up.
"My, my! Prince, you look rather feverish."
The silver haired youth's mind growled, This was what you wanted, isn't it?
"This shit you gave me, it's..."
The Doctor, with his trademark grin, approached him with a needle in hand. "This'll perk you right up!"
"It looks like the same shit from before."
"I can assure you it's not, now give me your arm."
He did not wait for a reply and merely grabbed the prince's arm and pierced his dark brown skin with the needle. As soon as all of the formula entered his body, he released his grip and allowed his subject to snatch his arm back.
He dropped down to his knees, trembling even more. "You made it worse!" he gasped. The heat was becoming even more unbearable and his muscles were out of control. He felt as if something was attempting to escape from inside of him, trying to destroy his body completely in order to do that. He could almost hear a strange kind of music unlike any kind he knew in the back of his head, its faint sound haunting his mind.
And then it stopped. The two were completely still for a few seconds. The youth pondered what had just happened and the other waited for some sort of response.
"HA!" He stood up triumphantly and pointed at the doctor with a menacing smile.
That was not the response the doctor wanted. He sighed and turned back to his work, muttering, "Damn.... he didn't explode."
"I heard that, Hajime BAKAZIMA!"
"I am Doctor Hajime Busuzima.... you good-for-nothing spoiled chicken."
"'Chicken?!' Hey. Don't you call me no goddam chicken, Doctor Freak-a-Nature!"
"Look, could you make like a good little bird and get out of my face? I'm busy." The strange man dismissed him with the wave of one hand. The younger would not be dismissed.
"And how are you playing God today?"
"The Young Dragon. He got into trouble again." He motioned towards one of the cells where the Clan of the Soil's heir was strapped into a seat and hooked up all sorts of devices. Speakers were set up around him, but only one on his side of the glass could hear it. He was breathing heavily and he looked very distressed. His mouth formed something, and then he looked like he was saying it again, calling it out.
Busuzima saw this and grabbed a microphone. He pressed a button to interrupt the recording. "He isn't coming. Nobody's coming."
A shiver ran down his spine at just thinking about the messages probably forced through the fellow teenager's head. "Daaamnnn... I didn't even realize Ryu was gone this time. How many times have you had to brainwash him?"
"I'd have to check the records. This method worked pretty well last time, though. I decided to replace one of the drugs with a new one I've made."
He sounded a small "tsk" and shook his head.
"I think Ryu's had it with your brain things. One of these days, he's gonna get brain cancer or some shit."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When she woke up, she found herself under warm sheets sleeping on a futon. She sat up in bed and looked around. Where was she? The small room looked like something traditional Japanese.
Then, she noticed something around her neck. It felt like the kind of plastic band she had to put around her wrist while on a group skiing tour, except it was thicker and the excess after the clasp had been trimmed. Now she started get nervous as reality returned after its flight during sleep. Uriko stood up, the white gown she was wearing fluttering around her.
She slid open the door and peeked around. There seemed to be nobody around. Suddenly, she heard a low voice from behind her.
"Good Afternoon."
"Kyaa!"
She turned around and found the man from the night before standing behind her as if he had been there the whole time. Uriko pointed, gasping, "Wh-where-"
"You'll find we do that a lot. I suggest you get used to it."
"How did you..."
"I am, after all, a ninja."
"Ninja?" Uriko echoed with a strange look on her face before remembering the previous night, "Ah! Kenji! What did you do with Kenji?"
He made a face and said with much dignity, "His title is 'Young Dragon.'" He was disgusted he would have to hear that name again.
"And it seems the doctor has someone else to erase from his mind," he continued, "But that is not the point right now. You fought me last night."
"What about it?"
"You attempted to attack me using a six level combination attack."
Uriko stared at him with confused eyes and a blank stare. "A what now?"
He glared back, annoyed.
"Oh, that!" she replied, "what's the big deal?"
"I want to know who taught you to use Kenpo like that. I could see the skill of one taught by an expert in your clumsy, amateur, careless..."
She also became annoyer and asked him why he would care about that. He merely replied that he used to work with a Kenpo master. Uriko did use what looked like an assassin's moves against him.
"Never mind that, where's Kenji?"
"'Young Dragon.'"
"What's with that stupid name?"
"Stupid...?"
He snatched her up by the throat.
"That is his title as my heir. Know this. I am to be called Master Bakuryu and that child is to be called Young Dragon. Do you understand this?"
He let her go by tossing her to the ground. He turned around and silently walked away, telling her, "You will see when he returns. He will not know you. Anger me and he will be the one to kill you. It is by my curiosity you live, so stay out of trouble before your privilege is taken away."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He sat at his desk and tapped a silver plated fountain pen into the inkwell. The episode from earlier was worse than previous times. Busuzima simply called it a fever or a minor side effect. The reactions were becoming stronger. What was he trying to do to him?
Whatever it was, the prince decided, that quack was getting closer to achieving his goal.
He put pen to paper and wrote:
Dearest Father,
My time in this country has been most interesting. Tylon Corporation holds a cornucopia of the most astounding facts. My education has been going along very well and I am sure you would be very proud of me could you see me now.
I am concerned, however, that staying here might not be good for me. I have been having severe allergic reactions recently and it makes life extremely hard for me. Perhaps it would be best if I returned home. My soul yearns for the beautiful land I shall someday call my own. My already vague memories grow more and more faint of that wonderful place. I mourn the fact that I must be raised here.
Father, hear my plea. Take me back home to you, to the golden sky, to my people. I want to go home.
Your son,
Cronos
His emerald eyes scanned over the letter and thought over what he had written and how he had worded his request. He began to take out an envelope and his wax seal, but then he twisted his face into a fierce and frustrated grimace. He snatched up his composition in one hand and crumpled it up.
"Melodramatic piece of shit!"
He knew King Orion would never listen to him. His proud kingdom was now tied up in the multinational Tylon Corporation. Their kingdom was created a refuge for his kind, and now it was sponsoring a major oppressor in secret. They were controlling his father with their deals and contracts, and Cronos would one day be controlled as well. What was there for him to do? Whether he was here or there, he was still in Tylon's grasp. He was trapped. In fact, why was he still thinking of doing something about it?
He looked at the ruined letter in his hand and reminded himself a silly request to his father would have changed nothing, even if he did not directly say anything about his "education" to be edited out so there would be no knowledge of his being an experiment in reality. He knew he was an experiment, even though nobody went to so far as to actually say that. Father probably knew that a well.
He guessed he would go right along just as his father was doing now when his time came. Besides, he was rather lucky. As a prince, he had luxurious quarters made just for him and he could freely walk around most of the building. He had access to his own impressive share of money free for him to use. He could even go outside if he wanted.
Perhaps the only thing to do was to make the best of it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Here he is, new and improved!" the doctor declared triumphantly. He led the dazed heir by the hand. His eyes were opened wide, but not focused and his face was rather blank. He took two steps into the Clan of the Soil's section of the building and stumbled slightly.
"And that's after only one session," he added, "Aren't I great? If you have problems, just bring him back to me."
Bakuryu grimly eyed the boy, who barely noticed he was there.
"He doesn't look much better to me."
"You know as well as I do he just needs a good night's sleep and then I dare say he'll be ready for another mission! Yup... I kick butt, don't I? Eh? EH?"
"Great job," the master lied and closed the door in the doctor's face. He then summoned someone to put his heir to bed.
The Clan of the Soil had been loyal to the family which ran Tylon for generations. Why was his valuable clan being taken for granted now? Now, they were being stashed with the rest of the assassins. That man now had the permission to do whatever he wanted to his heir without question.
All the brainwashing techniques were different from the ones Bakuryu knew. Also, all of them seemed to be experimental. How dare he experiment on his only heir? It was a little too late to get a new one should anything fatal happen to the current one.
None of the sessions were completely flawless. The boy seemed to go through a kind of deterioration afterwards. He would become less responsive and less aware. He would forget more than they wanted him to forget. He could barely remember anything sometimes! The future leader of his clan would become a drone. Sometimes, he would phase into a "dangerous" mode. His ability would become increased and he would become incredibly efficient... and then he would walk into a wall.
When he had gone to take him back, the situation had been a little different. Once that girl had hit the floor, that trembling boy stepped into a relaxed stance and charged towards him. His sightless eyes narrowed and his face showed unwavering concentration. Even without sight, he still had laser-like accuracy and the advantage in the fight. The ninjutsu master fought him off and waited patiently for him to slip up somewhere along the line. He made no mistakes and he managed to stay in that mode far longer than the few seconds he had been in such a state in the past. It was a miracle Bakuryu was able to knock him out in the end as well.
To add to that, it was all over that girl. He reasoned the Young Dragon merely had a hard lesson to learn about lust, but on the other hand... perhaps this could use some looking into, as he stayed in such a state for so long. Did he manage to keep his mind during that time? Bakuryu was intrigued.
Then again, he was just brainwashed and thus any hope of looking into this incident was lost... or was it? As risky as it was, perhaps keeping the girl around was not such a bad idea.
Okay finals are starting up soon. If I fail two subjects for the year, I get kicked out. If I get kicked out, it probably means no more computer which means no more fic.
Don't worry, the two finals tomorrow aren't in the subjects I fear I shall fail.
I trust you'll review, right? I need reviews to LIVE!!
;X; Don't make Yugo cry! Give me more reviews, for I am your GOD and I shall smite you pathetic little ants if you don-
Ummm... sorry. I'm kidding, of course.
Please enjoy. I've been wanting to do a certain introduction that occurs in this chapter for quite some time....
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
"Master..."
An older man stepped into clearer view. He was dressed in yellow and he wore sandals and metal guards like the ones Kenji had. His face was very serious and he had a large nose and lips. His eyes were a sickening pure white. He had very little white hair, which shot off at the sides of his head and on the top of his bald head was some kind of orange tattoo. Was it a Yin Yang?
While Kenji was still just standing there, Uriko demanded, "Who are you?"
He stood quite plainly, bringing up a hand with two raised fingers to make a calm stance.
"I am the master of Silent Death, which shall soon be yours to keep."
Uriko gulped. In a pleading voice she had never heard before, Kenji begged, "Master, please don't involve her! She had nothing to do with this!"
"I know you lie."
"You're here for Kenji, aren't you? I won't let you hurt him," the braided girl dared, "Umm, I'll fight you!"
She quickly spun around and stuck a shaky fighting stance on one foot. "Come on!"
The master silently nodded and shifted into a fighting position.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The door opened and in came the scarred man bearing food. "I'm home!" he called out to a silent house. He set the bag on the kitchen table and waited for the two youngsters to come running for their dinner.
"Er, Kenji?"
His apartment was completely still and devoid of movement and life. He did not even begin to look before his mind jumped to the correct conclusion.
"Oh, no."
In his desperation, he burst into the other rooms screaming his little brothers name. As he feared, there was no answer. They both were gone as if they had never been there.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"We're back," the master firmly stated upon entering the place his acolyte had known for years. It was the lab where the doctor worked and strange machines lined the walls. Everything was black and metallic grey. A casually dressed man was huddled at his desk. When he saw Bakuryu, he immediately jumped up to greet him, or rather his company.
"The Young Dragon is back, I see!"
He clapped his hands excitedly. He was a rather strange man to the eyes. He stood slumped over somewhat with bent knees, which made his arms and legs look unusually long, at the ends of which were rather large feet and hands. Behind his glasses were narrow eyes and underneath those was a mouth capable of one of the widest, toothiest grins. His green hair stood up, slicked into a high point atop his head. He wore very casual clothes: a brightly colored untucked shirt with large shorts and flip flops.
Bakuryu stepped back as soon as he reached out for the unconscious boy slung over his shoulder. "I think I will take care of my own heir," he explained. He then roughy placed a girl in the same condition onto the table next to him. "Perhaps she will keep you busy instead."
"I don't need another ordinary subject. I have bigger fish to fry, understand?"
The master knowingly narrowed his eyes. "I'm sure you do."
"I'll put a collar on her, but I don't really have anything to do with her, 'cause I am currently a tad on the busy side, see? And I really don't have the room for another subject, either." he told him in a bored voice as he reached into a drawer for an identification band.
"Fine then. I think I might have an experiment of my own."
"Thaaat's nice...," he dully teased. The green haired man decided he might as well take a blood sample as well. He lazily tossed the small container of the red fluid over his shoulder into his "To Do" basket, which had plenty of things to do to cushion its fall.
"Yeah! Two points!"
Just as the Fire Blast Dragon turned around to leave to his clan's section of the building, a hand tugged at his shirt.
"By the by.... I recently got another letter from Mr. Tylon..."
What is he letting him do now, the old master moaned silently.
He proudly held up the letter so Bakuryu could read it as he summarized its contents for him.
"It says I can do whatever I please to perfect the heir without your consent, anytime, and I won't have to get separate letters of permission ever again for future projects of mine. Isn't that good news?"
He had to strain to control his anger. He could not make himself say anything. It was right there on the letter with what was the current leader of Tylon's signature.
"I thought you'd like it! Now, I'll take the boy and you'll take the girl, then?"
"You had better actually improve him this time, Doctor."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He stumbled down the stairs, one hand grasped at his chest. Pain was throbbing at his insides and he could feel the flames rise up around him. He was on fire. He would have gladly jumped into a vat of molten sodium to relieve himself of the unbearable heat, but he knew that was not necessary. The one who caused this would solve this, as little as he wanted to admit it.
He just caught himself before completely falling down and over the steps. With both hands, he latched onto the banister. Sweat poured off his face and onto the concrete. Panting, he strained to stand up despite the spasms taking over his muscles. Dazed green eyes tried to focus, but the whole world was spinning around him.
"ShitFuckGod I'm in Hell..."
He could make out the man he was seeking in the lab.
"Doctor Asshole!" he shouted. He could still express his feelings even in such a state.
"What is it?" the annoyed doctor answered. As soon as he saw his patient, his face lit up.
"My, my! Prince, you look rather feverish."
The silver haired youth's mind growled, This was what you wanted, isn't it?
"This shit you gave me, it's..."
The Doctor, with his trademark grin, approached him with a needle in hand. "This'll perk you right up!"
"It looks like the same shit from before."
"I can assure you it's not, now give me your arm."
He did not wait for a reply and merely grabbed the prince's arm and pierced his dark brown skin with the needle. As soon as all of the formula entered his body, he released his grip and allowed his subject to snatch his arm back.
He dropped down to his knees, trembling even more. "You made it worse!" he gasped. The heat was becoming even more unbearable and his muscles were out of control. He felt as if something was attempting to escape from inside of him, trying to destroy his body completely in order to do that. He could almost hear a strange kind of music unlike any kind he knew in the back of his head, its faint sound haunting his mind.
And then it stopped. The two were completely still for a few seconds. The youth pondered what had just happened and the other waited for some sort of response.
"HA!" He stood up triumphantly and pointed at the doctor with a menacing smile.
That was not the response the doctor wanted. He sighed and turned back to his work, muttering, "Damn.... he didn't explode."
"I heard that, Hajime BAKAZIMA!"
"I am Doctor Hajime Busuzima.... you good-for-nothing spoiled chicken."
"'Chicken?!' Hey. Don't you call me no goddam chicken, Doctor Freak-a-Nature!"
"Look, could you make like a good little bird and get out of my face? I'm busy." The strange man dismissed him with the wave of one hand. The younger would not be dismissed.
"And how are you playing God today?"
"The Young Dragon. He got into trouble again." He motioned towards one of the cells where the Clan of the Soil's heir was strapped into a seat and hooked up all sorts of devices. Speakers were set up around him, but only one on his side of the glass could hear it. He was breathing heavily and he looked very distressed. His mouth formed something, and then he looked like he was saying it again, calling it out.
Busuzima saw this and grabbed a microphone. He pressed a button to interrupt the recording. "He isn't coming. Nobody's coming."
A shiver ran down his spine at just thinking about the messages probably forced through the fellow teenager's head. "Daaamnnn... I didn't even realize Ryu was gone this time. How many times have you had to brainwash him?"
"I'd have to check the records. This method worked pretty well last time, though. I decided to replace one of the drugs with a new one I've made."
He sounded a small "tsk" and shook his head.
"I think Ryu's had it with your brain things. One of these days, he's gonna get brain cancer or some shit."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When she woke up, she found herself under warm sheets sleeping on a futon. She sat up in bed and looked around. Where was she? The small room looked like something traditional Japanese.
Then, she noticed something around her neck. It felt like the kind of plastic band she had to put around her wrist while on a group skiing tour, except it was thicker and the excess after the clasp had been trimmed. Now she started get nervous as reality returned after its flight during sleep. Uriko stood up, the white gown she was wearing fluttering around her.
She slid open the door and peeked around. There seemed to be nobody around. Suddenly, she heard a low voice from behind her.
"Good Afternoon."
"Kyaa!"
She turned around and found the man from the night before standing behind her as if he had been there the whole time. Uriko pointed, gasping, "Wh-where-"
"You'll find we do that a lot. I suggest you get used to it."
"How did you..."
"I am, after all, a ninja."
"Ninja?" Uriko echoed with a strange look on her face before remembering the previous night, "Ah! Kenji! What did you do with Kenji?"
He made a face and said with much dignity, "His title is 'Young Dragon.'" He was disgusted he would have to hear that name again.
"And it seems the doctor has someone else to erase from his mind," he continued, "But that is not the point right now. You fought me last night."
"What about it?"
"You attempted to attack me using a six level combination attack."
Uriko stared at him with confused eyes and a blank stare. "A what now?"
He glared back, annoyed.
"Oh, that!" she replied, "what's the big deal?"
"I want to know who taught you to use Kenpo like that. I could see the skill of one taught by an expert in your clumsy, amateur, careless..."
She also became annoyer and asked him why he would care about that. He merely replied that he used to work with a Kenpo master. Uriko did use what looked like an assassin's moves against him.
"Never mind that, where's Kenji?"
"'Young Dragon.'"
"What's with that stupid name?"
"Stupid...?"
He snatched her up by the throat.
"That is his title as my heir. Know this. I am to be called Master Bakuryu and that child is to be called Young Dragon. Do you understand this?"
He let her go by tossing her to the ground. He turned around and silently walked away, telling her, "You will see when he returns. He will not know you. Anger me and he will be the one to kill you. It is by my curiosity you live, so stay out of trouble before your privilege is taken away."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He sat at his desk and tapped a silver plated fountain pen into the inkwell. The episode from earlier was worse than previous times. Busuzima simply called it a fever or a minor side effect. The reactions were becoming stronger. What was he trying to do to him?
Whatever it was, the prince decided, that quack was getting closer to achieving his goal.
He put pen to paper and wrote:
Dearest Father,
My time in this country has been most interesting. Tylon Corporation holds a cornucopia of the most astounding facts. My education has been going along very well and I am sure you would be very proud of me could you see me now.
I am concerned, however, that staying here might not be good for me. I have been having severe allergic reactions recently and it makes life extremely hard for me. Perhaps it would be best if I returned home. My soul yearns for the beautiful land I shall someday call my own. My already vague memories grow more and more faint of that wonderful place. I mourn the fact that I must be raised here.
Father, hear my plea. Take me back home to you, to the golden sky, to my people. I want to go home.
Your son,
Cronos
His emerald eyes scanned over the letter and thought over what he had written and how he had worded his request. He began to take out an envelope and his wax seal, but then he twisted his face into a fierce and frustrated grimace. He snatched up his composition in one hand and crumpled it up.
"Melodramatic piece of shit!"
He knew King Orion would never listen to him. His proud kingdom was now tied up in the multinational Tylon Corporation. Their kingdom was created a refuge for his kind, and now it was sponsoring a major oppressor in secret. They were controlling his father with their deals and contracts, and Cronos would one day be controlled as well. What was there for him to do? Whether he was here or there, he was still in Tylon's grasp. He was trapped. In fact, why was he still thinking of doing something about it?
He looked at the ruined letter in his hand and reminded himself a silly request to his father would have changed nothing, even if he did not directly say anything about his "education" to be edited out so there would be no knowledge of his being an experiment in reality. He knew he was an experiment, even though nobody went to so far as to actually say that. Father probably knew that a well.
He guessed he would go right along just as his father was doing now when his time came. Besides, he was rather lucky. As a prince, he had luxurious quarters made just for him and he could freely walk around most of the building. He had access to his own impressive share of money free for him to use. He could even go outside if he wanted.
Perhaps the only thing to do was to make the best of it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Here he is, new and improved!" the doctor declared triumphantly. He led the dazed heir by the hand. His eyes were opened wide, but not focused and his face was rather blank. He took two steps into the Clan of the Soil's section of the building and stumbled slightly.
"And that's after only one session," he added, "Aren't I great? If you have problems, just bring him back to me."
Bakuryu grimly eyed the boy, who barely noticed he was there.
"He doesn't look much better to me."
"You know as well as I do he just needs a good night's sleep and then I dare say he'll be ready for another mission! Yup... I kick butt, don't I? Eh? EH?"
"Great job," the master lied and closed the door in the doctor's face. He then summoned someone to put his heir to bed.
The Clan of the Soil had been loyal to the family which ran Tylon for generations. Why was his valuable clan being taken for granted now? Now, they were being stashed with the rest of the assassins. That man now had the permission to do whatever he wanted to his heir without question.
All the brainwashing techniques were different from the ones Bakuryu knew. Also, all of them seemed to be experimental. How dare he experiment on his only heir? It was a little too late to get a new one should anything fatal happen to the current one.
None of the sessions were completely flawless. The boy seemed to go through a kind of deterioration afterwards. He would become less responsive and less aware. He would forget more than they wanted him to forget. He could barely remember anything sometimes! The future leader of his clan would become a drone. Sometimes, he would phase into a "dangerous" mode. His ability would become increased and he would become incredibly efficient... and then he would walk into a wall.
When he had gone to take him back, the situation had been a little different. Once that girl had hit the floor, that trembling boy stepped into a relaxed stance and charged towards him. His sightless eyes narrowed and his face showed unwavering concentration. Even without sight, he still had laser-like accuracy and the advantage in the fight. The ninjutsu master fought him off and waited patiently for him to slip up somewhere along the line. He made no mistakes and he managed to stay in that mode far longer than the few seconds he had been in such a state in the past. It was a miracle Bakuryu was able to knock him out in the end as well.
To add to that, it was all over that girl. He reasoned the Young Dragon merely had a hard lesson to learn about lust, but on the other hand... perhaps this could use some looking into, as he stayed in such a state for so long. Did he manage to keep his mind during that time? Bakuryu was intrigued.
Then again, he was just brainwashed and thus any hope of looking into this incident was lost... or was it? As risky as it was, perhaps keeping the girl around was not such a bad idea.
