The first thing he noticed about Leanbox was its jarring similarity to rural-urban England. The buildings seemed to be made in the same style as Victorian-era British homes, with the cobbled roads only furthering the effect. Plus, the architecture only held this style for a short distance until it turned into a grey, urban jungle with ridiculous buildings covered in glass with incredibly boring company names. Naturally, his presence in the car with Lady Noire would have been awkward due to his size, so he had been told to walk the rest of the way to the basilicom, meaning he was facing a large number of people that were amazed by his height and, from what he gathered, the fact he was male: Everyone he had met up to that point was a woman, besides the receptionist at the Lastation basilicom. He wasn't certain if this was due to gender inequality, or the fact that Gamindustri was a strongly feminist world, or whatever. But as far as he was concerned, he had a fuckload of women following him around through curiosity, and he could probably boast about it to his friends...if he ever met them again, that is.

Frowning, and squinting slightly under the unsubtle flash of a camera in his face, he continued his trek to the large building in the distance. It looked like a mansion, with gates and such like, and from where he was (not even having to bother asking people to move so he could see) he could identify Lady Noire's assigned car parked outside the entrance to the building, so he was on the right track. He grimaced as he felt another intrigued hand unbutton the holster on his belt and reach for his Skorpion, so he instinctively batted the hand away and clipped it shut again.

He was so tempted to do what they do in the movies and shoot a shitload of rounds into the air. But what if they came down and killed someone?

Pah, bollocks. He'd just have to deal with the crowds. Wasn't like they were obscuring his vision or anything: He was a whole head taller than most of them, with all the others barely reaching his nose. Plus, a few of them seemed mostly interested in his biceps, for some reason: He definitely wasn't imagining that someone was squeezing his arm muscle repeatedly, presumably in absolute glee that they were touching a man's arm. Like, holy fuck, it was a man's arm. An arm. Of a man. Not man with a wo in front of it. A man.

Frowning, and continuing to idly thumb at the strap on his Mossberg that was slung over his right shoulder, he managed to get to the Basilicom gate. The (obviously) female guard seemed no less amazed by him than any of the dozens that were following him. He stopped at the metal gate, the guard staring at him in seeming disbelief of his height, and looked to be contemplating using the TAR-21 clone that she had dangling in front of her torso over a WW1-era British military-looking uniform. "You as well?" Jack grunted. The woman was slightly taken aback. "You should know why I'm here." No answer. "Lady Noire should've bloody said I'd be arriving on foot." No answer. "Goddamn, that bitch." No answer. "...are you gonna make a fuckin' response, miss?" The woman shook her head clear and removed her gaze from his bicep. He resisted every urge to punch her through the iron bars right then and there, because then she wouldn't have opened the gate. It was almost the size of a driveway gate to Jack; To everyone else it was a huge, looming black grid of steel. "There. Wasn't so bloody hard, was it?" he grumbled, before slipping his way through the gap that the soldier had presented him with. Behind him, the metal gates closed in the faces of the hundred or so women that had followed him down the street, and he was able to get a look at the Basilicom.

It was a large building, not too far off a mansion or summer villa. In front, there was a massive fountain, plus a long pair of driveways that extended from both gates at the front of the basilicom courtyard. On top, there was a large flag with what he assumed was Leanbox's national flag. Jack stood and looked over all of this for a few moments, hand on his hip.

"'s alright, I suppose." He sniffed. "Smells a bit like gun oil."

Beginning to trudge up to the front of the building, a group of previously unseen women with rifles patrolled the stairs in front of the building. Jack was pleased to note that they were all from different countries: He recognised the Leanbox guard uniform from the woman at the gate, and the Lastation uniform from when he was being taken to the plane over to Leanbox, but the other two he assumed were the uniforms of Lowee and Planeptune. None of the soldiers were being hostile to each other: Most of them were actually enjoying cheerful conversations.

That is, until they caught sight of Jack. Instantly, they all formed up into a firing squad and steadied their aims on him. Groaning, he stood at the foot of the steps and paced side to side with his face in his hands, head tilted back. "You've gotta be fuckin' kiddin' me."

"Uh, h-halt!" one of the armed women ordered. "O-Or...w-we'll shoot!"

"I'm not even fuckin' doin' anythin'," grunted Jack. "And if I wasn't supposed to fuckin' be here, then the guard wouldn't have opened the soddin' gate, would she?" There was a pause.

"I'll need to see some credentials, sir."

"You're kiddin' me with this bullshit, right?"

"You don't have credentials?"

"I was supposed to be here with Lady Noire, but I was too big for the fuckin' car we were goin' in. So I walked through a town full of people that have never seen a fuckin' bloke before, and then have to put up with a guard tryin' to look me up and down to check me out. And now you're tellin' me I need fuckin' credentials? You're pushin' a fuckin' boundary, lady." The weapons remained raised, but some of the expressions were visibly shaken by the tirade. One of the women, from Lowee, looked to be on the brink of tears. Jack jabbed a finger forwards. "Yeah, you lot better be fuckin' sorry. Put up with too much shite to be fuckin' rejected. I can't be doin' with this." Just then, a window opened on the floor above, revealing a green haired woman with striking red eyes and a black bow.

"What's going on down there?" she yelled, sounding angry. "Shut the hell up! I'm trying to listen out for that new guy Lady Vert called in!"

"New guy?" Jack called back up, causing her to look at him. "Might be me you're lookin' for."

"So you're Mr...ah...gimme a second..." Briefly, the rather chipper woman disappeared from the window, then reappeared with a notepad. She narrowed her eyes. "Are you...Mr. Jack Loandone?"

"It's pronounced London!" he called back up. "And yes, I'd bloody well hope I am, or my parents lied to me!" The woman smiled.

"Alright, if you're the guy, then fine, let him in!" The green-haired woman nodded to the armed guards, who lowered their weapons and gestured to the door. "Meet me inside the lobby."

"Bloody well hope you'd have the decency to come down and meet me personally..." Jack muttered as he strode inside. The lobby honestly didn't look that different from a normal hotel foyer: A few couches to one side, a desk with a receptionist behind, plus wooden furnishings and a few other people walking around. Yet not one of them didn't cast a glance over to the behemoth of a man that had walked in. Again, they were all women. Back on Earth he'd be dying for this kind of attention. Now he had it, it was shit. He supposed that was just how the world worked as he leaned against a wall and nonchalantly withdrew his knife from his belt, twirling it through his fingers. It was a fun way to pass the time. Plus, considering the knife was from an SA80 assault rifle, it looked quite menacing: Nobody'd be fucking with him.

Unless they bought him dinner first.

Just then, the elevator (yes, elevator) to his left made a ding noise, and the woman from the window stepped out. Jack was amazed at her: She was wearing a long, flowing black dress that suited her green hair and red eyes, plus a few things here and there, but what amazed him was that the only thing covering her privates was a small, black sheet of cloth. And as he moved up her bodyholy shit she had big boobs. He avoided looking at them, and slipped the knife back into its sheath as the woman smiled almost sinfully, eyes closed as she approached. "So you're the guy I heard so much a...bout...wow." She paused, and let her arms hang limply by her sides as she looked up at him in bewilderment. "You're a big guy." Jack sighed.

"Yes, I'm aware, many people have Baneposted that about me before," he replied flatly, extending a hand. "Jack London, Englishman, trained through the combined efforts of the SASGIGNNATOSWATPOLIZEIRANGERSUSMCSBSSPEHSSMEHRINES for some shitty, overblown portal gum, and also on loan to Leanbox for the foreseeable future." The woman accepted he handshake, showing the same uncomfortable expression as Noire had when he engulfed her hand.

'How did he pronounce that acronym?'

"Good to meet you," she almost purred in response, flashing a grin. "My name is Chika Hakozaki. I'm the Oracle of Leanbox, and Lady Vert's right hand when it comes to matters of urgency."

"So who's her left hand?" Jack asked, pulling away the handshake. She had soft skin. She was kinda hot.

"Me." Chika announced proudly. "I'm also the feet, voice, conscience, and spleen of her government. Don't you forget it."

"No worries, I never forget a face."

"Good. Then I think we'll get along just fine. Follow me." Chika turned, and began walking back towards the elevator, and Jack followed. It looked almost amusing to see Chika, who was only five foot three, being followed by Jack, who was five foot ten. She was a good seventeen centimeters shorter than him. He was tall enough to pick her up and carry her the rest of the way. But he didn't, because she'd probably take it further: Instead, he followed along behind her, and stepped inside the elevator. Chika elegantly extended a hand, and pressed one of the buttons, the door sliding gently closed and muffling all outside sounds. The pair dropped into silence, and Chika stood, looking to her left at the taller man and assessing him with partially narrowed eyes. 'Is he taller than Lady Vert? Lady Green Heart? He couldn't be. Lady Green Heart is the tallest out of anyone in Gamindustri. If he is taller, he'd better not do anything he's gonna regret.'

"Nice rack," Jack said calmly, scratching his chin. Instantly, his female companion's cheeks flushed red.

"W-What?!" she gasped.

"I complimented your rack," he repeated. Chika was taken aback, and looked down. Well...she was...proud of them. They were E's, and the clothes store had to make her tailored outfits, but she...what...what? "Those're point fifty rifles, ain't they?"

...what?

Oh.

She turned to the pair of large sniper rifles hung up in the glass case behind them, and rested an elbow on her hand. "Yes, indeed," she said, her calm voice betraying her sudden awareness of her breasts. "They were given to us by the Avenir corporation as thanks for allowing them to trade with Leanbox."

"They do a lot of damage, I suppose."

"Lady Vert fired one in the courtyard when we received them; Smashed every window in the basilicom, I was knocked out, and when I came to, Lady Vert was passionately kissing the weapon on the left."

"You were knocked out?" Jack raised a brow. "Were you alright?"

"Well, yes, I was fine, but I do get headaches every so often as a result, so I often feel faint, specifically around men." She flashed a smile up to him. "Always be on your guard, for I could fall at any moment." Jack wasn't sure if he could make any terrorist jokes or jokes about the British economy without utterly confusing the woman next to him, so he opted to nod.

"I'll, uh, keep that in mind. You don't look like you weigh much."

"You think I have a good figure?" Chika smirked. 'I wanna see how far I can push him.'

"You're probably what people'd call a supermodel back where I'm from, and they apparently don't weigh much. Plus, considerin' the fact that you and everyone else I've met thus far are small as fuck compared to me, it just makes me feel like I'm actually tall."

"I'm considered tall for Leanbox."

"I'm average height in Britain."

"What'd be considered tall in...Britton, or however you say it?"

"Got a friend who's about six foot four. You'd barely reach his chest," Jack replied as the door slid open and the two stepped out into a nice, bright hallway. "Anyway, so there's a diplomatic meetin' goin' on here?"

"Indeed," Chika nodded quietly. "I believe it's finishing in a few minutes. From then, you'll be able to speak with Lady Vert." Just then, the door opened a crack, and the face of a woman (duh) peeped out.

"Oracle Hakozaki?" asked the woman. Chika stepped forward and raised a hand.

"Present. What is it?"

"Lady Green Heart requests the presence of Mr. Loondumb."

"This is a piss take, it's pronounced sodding London..." Jack muttered, scratching his stubble idly and shaking his head, stepping forward. "My cue?" he asked Chika.

"Yes," she replied calmly, before narrowing her eyes. "If anything is to happen to Lady Vert..." she trailed off. "...let's just say, you and your friend don't want anything to happen to Lady Vert." Jack nodded, but as he headed in, paused.

"...friend?" he asked back through the door. Chika was standing with her arms folded, and a brow raised, and that was all Jack saw of her before he was dragged inside by an unknown force. "WHO THE FUCK?!" he yelled. He was just about to reach for his knife when he was stood up firmly and a pair of arms gripped his biceps.

"It's me, you asshole!" James said suddenly. Jack looked back at the face of his friend, and grinned.

"JAMES, YOU FANTASTIC BASTARD!" he cried, before immediately throwing himself into a bro-hug with one of the people he'd spent a year training with and years on British streets with. He was just shorter than Jack, clocking in at about five foot seven, and had greasier brown hair. Plus, he carried the same, dark sense of humour as his close friend, which made interactions between him (a Welsh person with a penchant for crude humour and dark jokes) and Jack (a part-Scottish Northerner that lived in Southern England, who took pleasure in finding ways to take the piss out of people) that much more entertaining. He was wearing his usual get-up that he had been wearing since he graduated training; black tactical gear, heavier body armour, and a black baseball cap with a headset. Slung over his back was what looked to be an Arctic Warfare sniper rifle, folded up for easier carriage. On his lower back was an Uzi, and in his other holster on his leg was yet another Uzi. Regardless, Jack patted his long-time bro on the back. "Where the fuck were you, you wanker?"

"I was goin' around, doin' the do," James replied, patting Jack on the back as they pulled apart from their bro-hug. The four women in the room looked at them like being bros was a weird thing. "Hope you haven't been keepin' all the ladies to yourself."

"Nah, I'm a proper bloke, you of all people should know I think of my lads before the lasses." Jack turned to the goddesses. "Where was he?"

"I found him in Lowee," Blanc proclaimed in a rather calm voice that betrayed her pride. She looked fairly average in her non-HDD form: Not regarding her clothes and absolutely adorable little hat, she had short brown hair and calm blue eyes. She also looked fairly young, considering both her face and...assets. "He was trying to kill an Ancient Dragon using his rifle when I stepped in and saved him. He owes me a favour." James scratched the back of his head and nodded.

"Ah, yeah, I do..." he muttered, looking back up at the smaller of the women in front of them at the table. "How'd you want that paid back, again?"

"I'll think of something," Blanc said calmly, before looking to Jack. "Remember: After your stay here in Leanbox, you'll be travelling home with me." Jack raised a brow in response, hands in his pockets.

"Fuckin' hell, you lot plan quick," he whistled. "Say, then what's James doin' while I go with you?"

"Coming with me," Blanc said flatly. Neptune sat up.

"Hey!" cried the small girl with purple hair. She couldn't have been older than twelve. "You can't just have both of them!"

"I did find him, and he does owe me a favour," replied the brown-haired girl in her eerily calm voice. She was absolutely nothing like her loud, foul-mouthed HDD form, and that slightly disappointed Jack. She was fun when she was always in a bad mood. "Plus, I believe that my sisters have taken a liking to him."

"She has sisters?" Jack asked James. James grinned, and held a hand up to his waist height.

"Yeah, two: Rom, and Ram. They're fuckin'...like, small as fuck, and they're really fuckin' adorable."

"Huh. Well, I was mostly surprised when it turned out that Noir-"

"Ahem."

"...fine, Lady-Mother-Fuckin'-Queen-Of-The-Constant-Menstruation-Cycle-Holy-Shit-Will-She-Ever-Not-Be-On-Her-Period Noire has a sister as well." The other goddesses stifled laughs as Noire grit her teeth. "She's called Uni, and she likes me enough."

"I assume she's not a grumpy bitch like her sister?"

"Oh, you're too fuckin' right, she's not: Practically bounded up to see me this mornin', and nearly started cryin' last night when I said I was stayin' in Leanbox. Noire just stared at me and thought angry thoughts."

"For your information, I'm fantasising about how to kill yo-"

"Yeah, sure, you have fun, go get some fuckin' friends." Jack offered a shit-eating grin, and the other CPUs couldn't help but struggle to conceal laughter. Noire was gripping the table hard enough that the wood was starting to crack. Blanc was certain that her fellow goddess' teeth might crack soon, considering how much she was clenching them. James threw back his head, put one hand in front of his mouth, and pointed to Noire as he leaned back slightly.

"OH. MUGGED OFF." he yelled. Noire was nearly breaking the table.

"It's not muggin' off, it's statin' solid facts," Jack said calmly, in a tone that almost would have been serious had he not have been using it to insult Noire. "I didn't see her talkin' to anybody but her sister when I was in Lastation. Go get some friends, Lady Noire."

Only Neptune survived the explosion of rage.

That evening...

When the sun had gone down, Jack decided he would head out into the town to see what the nightlife was like. Considering how he'd dragged a rather begrudging James along, he saw no reason why there'd end up being problems: All he really needed to be careful about was not losing James, because he was only a little bit taller than most of the people he'd seen. The pair walked back down the road that Jack had come in through, with the nearby shops still lit up. It was just like day-time, somehow, except the people were still wearing summery clothes. Ignoring their looks at James' 'tacticool' apparel and Jack's 'homicidal Vietnam veteran that raided an army barracks ' clothing, the two were speaking, just like old times. "I mean, let's be honest, we're two of the few men in this world, right?" James continued.

Jack scratched his chin in response. "Ah, yeah, you're right with that, what about it?"

"Well, y'know. Two blokes. Loads of women."

"Can't see where you're goin' with this."

"Jesus Christ, did you ever watch porn?"

"...hentai, or normal porn?"

"Fuckin' hell. Anyway, I'm just pointin' out that we can get a harem if we keep goin' like this." Jack grimaced, as he felt yet another camera flash go over them.

"Ain't a harem that thing where there's a shit load of girls goin' for one guy?"

"Yeah."

"Eh. Dunno. Some of these people hardly look like they've hit puberty, I'll be honest."

"What about Chika Kamikaze?"

"Hakozaki," Jack corrected. "And yeah, she's alright. Keeps faintin', though, and normally into my arms."

"How heavy is she?"

"Eh...think, like, medium sized dog. Golden Retriever. She has a nice face, she's quirky, and she has soft skin as well. Plus, have you seen her goddamn dress?"

"The only thing covering her undies is a small piece of fabric..." James mused. "Why don't you ask if she wants to go out on a date somewhere? See if you can get some action."

Jack winced at the comment and moved his free hand side to side. "Well, y'see, the thing is..."

"You don't like her?"

"No, no, I like her...I just...look at her. Have you noticed somethin' about the way she strides about the basilicom? With that foxy smirk, nearly twenty-four-seven?"

"Nah, I don't normally look at her eyes."

"You perverted wanker. Anyway, my point is...she...looks like she's up to something. Constantly."

"Like what?"

"That's the problem: I don't know, and it's fuckin' creepy. She flashes this weird smile as she goes past me. And she's seriously obsessed with Vert."

"Who wouldn't be? Vert's a genuinely nice person."

"Indeed she is, but Chika's obsessed on a whole different level," Jack replied. The two entered a main town square, with a few restaurants open around the place and some shops still available. They paused as they felt hundreds of eyes glancing curiously to them from eating at restaurants, shopping, and generally enjoying their evenings. "How much've you got to spend?" James quickly slipped out his wallet and thumbed through a few pieces of paper.

"Eh...not much. Like, a hundred credits. You?"

"Did some side jobs in Lastation, so I've got upwards of ten thousand."

"Ten soddin' thousand?!" James gasped as Jack led the way to a nearby restaurant with outdoor seating. "Fuckin' hell, what were you doin'?"

"Ech..." Jack scratched the back of his head, thinking. "About...two counts of pest control, a few points where I helped the feds..."

"You backstabbin' arse'ole," James interrupted.

"Sod off, I didn't sell you out."

"Good."

"What else was there...? Oh, yeah, I saved a woman from a mugger. She paid me, and turned a blind eye when I started riflin' through the bloke's pockets and jacked about five grand."

"He had five grand in his pocket? Greedy cunt." The waiter (another fucking woman, goddamn) approached the two armed men cautiously, menus in hand. "Oh, hi!" James beamed. She swallowed hard.

"H-Hello..." she nearly whispered. "Uh...are you looking for an o-outside table?" Jack looked at James.

"Shall we?" James nodded in response. "Yeah, we'll go for it, outside's good." The woman in front of them paused in fear, before rapidly nodding her head.

"R-Right this way, s-sirs!" she whimpered, before quickly scampering over to a metal table with a pair of seats under an umbrella. It didn't exactly seem too foreign. Jack liked it. Thus, he offered a smile to the woman.

"Cheers, lass," he grinned. The woman paused, nodded, and quickly moved away, dropping the menus onto the table as quickly as she could. Both men looked at this for a moment in confusion. "You think this lot are scared of us?"

"Well, we're the only lads for...well, miles," James shrugged, browsing through the paper in front of him. Holy shit, there was a section labelled 'Western Food', and that's where the normal meals were. "Fuckin' hell, are we in Japan now?" Jack was squinting at the menu.

"Eh." He scanned the menu. "Fuck me sideways. They do some nice lookin' fish and chips. That's me set. You?"

"Well, shit, I dunno. Sausage and chips?"

"You go for whatever the hell you want."

"You can afford this, obviously. Don't think I can."

"No worries, I'm payin'."

"Really? You sure?"

"Yeah, why not? First meal out we've had since that one trip to the cinema a year and a bit ago. What film was it?"

"Uh...The Avengers, wasn't it? The one with the robot?"

"Yeah, that was it. Wasn't too bad of a film. But let's be honest: Compared to the shit they taught us to do, Black Widow and Hawkeye are some tame motherfuckers."

"Yeah, I guess." James smiled, reclining and taking a breath in as he closed his eyes. "Christ. Haven't been for a nice day out for a long time."

"It was always us two, guaranteed, every day out," Jack noted, leaning forward onto the table. He didn't notice the two noticeably eccentric women approaching them. "Then we had Josh runnin' around, tryin' to organise days out, we had Luke being awkward and not replyin' to texts, there was always some teenage drama shite goin' on...bloody hell, I miss it."

"Same here, I guess," James nodded, leaning forward again and swiping his hair out of his eyes. "But I wouldn't go back."

"Oh, hell no, neither'd I," Jack laughed. "All we'd be doin' back in England would be sittin' and watchin' telly and bein' dragged out by Josh to play hockey. Fuckin' girl's game, that is." He paused. Then, he looked over the decorative metal railings to his right to look at the two girls that had been standing there for about a minute. "Evenin', ladies. Can we help you?" They were certainly an interesting duo: The one in front, likely the more leader-like of the two with the same blue hair as the other, was dressed like some kind of metal-related magician. She had a black wizard hat with metal cogs looped around it, with a white coat, grey shirt, and red tie. On her feet were a pair of simple black shoes with a pair of long grey tights, and in her hand was a long staff with an assortment of gears on the end. She had blue eyes that seemed to be constantly assessing him.

And...she was assessing him.

"Lady, can I help you?" Jack repeated. The woman said nothing for a moment, and finally spoke, looking him in the eyes.

"Hmm." The woman finally stood up straight, left arm finally sweeping down to her side as her other hand stayed on her staff. She carried a slightly alarming smell of chemicals and burned things, and Jack could detect a strong aroma jasmine that emanated from her, noticeable even from where he was sitting. He wasn't certain if he should be concerned about the woman's smile, but she seemed alright. "You must be the Armed Psychopath I have heard about," she said flatly, before looking to James. "And you must be the Dragon Hunter." Jack frowned.

"...we have nicknames?" he asked. "And why's James got one that makes him sound like a folk story bloke?" The woman raised a brow.

"Are you not officially called the Armed Psychopath?" she replied. Jack stared at her in disbelief.

"Jesus Christ, no, I'm obviously not called fuckin' Armed Psychopath!" he groaned. James rubbed his chin.

"Dragon Hunter..." he smirked, testing out the title for himself. "Niiiiice..."

"Then what are your true titles?" the woman asked.

"Well, considerin' that neither I nor James know who the hell you are, it'd be better for you to answer that for us, first." The girl smiled again.

"You address the glaring issues first. I can respect that in a person, in spite of your obvious shortcomings in terms of scientific knowledge." She straightened up. "My name is MAGES., but some call me the Mad Magician." Jack raised a brow.

"I guess MAGES. isn't the weirdest name I've heard thus far," he said calmly. The woman smiled.

"At least you can pronounce my name correctly."

"What, there's people who can't say MAGES.?"

"Indeed. It is a common error made by new acquaintances. You are one of the few who has correctly said my name on the first try."

"Some people just have no respect for periods. My name's Jack London." He extended a hand to shake, which MAGES. firmly shook.

"Mr. London, I am pleased to finally meet you in the flesh." Jack smiled, leaning back in his chair.

"Well, you returned the respect for my name. First time anyone here's said it first try." MAGES. frowned slightly.

"I find distress in the knowledge that people cannot pronounce the word London," she replied.

"Indeed. So, if you don't mind my askin': What brings you here?"

"I was on an evening out with my sister, Lyrica," MAGES. explained, gesturing to the shy-looking girl behind her. She was noticeably different to her sister, with a black sports bra, black skirt with a pink-buckled belt, long tights, and an assortment of bangles. In comparison to MAGES.' non-styled hair, Lyrica had hers set into a dual parting at the front, with a long blue ponytail beneath a pair of headphones. Her magenta irises were noticeably darting around: It was clear she didn't like talking to people. MAGES. looked back, looking slightly troubled. "It is not often we get to see each other, as she's normally on tour."

"On tour?" James interjected, raising a brow. "What, she's a band member or somethin'?"

MAGES. nodded. "She's a singer. Her stage name is-"

"5-5pb.," Lyrica said quietly, rubbing her arm and looking down slightly. The six eyes that suddenly turned to look at her clearly alarmed the frightened girl, who shrank slightly under the gazes of two armed men and her sister. "Oh...um...s-sorry for interrupting you, sis..." MAGES. offered a gentle smile, clearly practiced over years of having 5pb for a sister.

"Don't worry, Lyrica," she replied calmly. "I'm glad you're starting to speak up." James smiled.

"Now I'm interested;" he said, leaning forward. "How many showed to your last gig?" 5pb. winced under the gaze, and rubbed her arm nervously.

"Oh, o-only seven hundred thousand..." she sighed. Jack sat up immediately.

"Holy hell!" he spurted. "Seven hundred fuckin' thousand?! You must be bloody good at singin'!" 5pb. broke into a fluster, scratching the back of her head.

"Um. I guess...heh...thank you...?"

"Now may I ask what you two outlanders are doing in Leanbox at this time?" MAGES. asked Jack.

"Eh," he shrugged. "I'm on loan to all the goddesses. The diplomatic meetin' today was the changeover from me bein' in Lastation to me bein' in Leanbox, and then I found out that James was here as well."

James raised a hand. "'Sup."

"So now we're gettin' food so we can catch up. Haven't had a proper day out into a town for over a year."

"A year?" MAGES. raised a brow.

"Yup. A year's worth of SASGIGNNATOSWATPOLIZEIRANGERSUSMCSBSSPEHSSMEHRINES trainin' with no freedom in the middle of a desert surrounded by criminals, ex-police, army guys, and people that'd blindly follow the criminals. Pretty sure if we went anywhere, someone'd try and kill us." Jack explained. MAGES. nodded thoughtfully, leaning on her staff.

"That does not seem as if it would be good for your health." Jack smirked at the comment, and stood up, MAGES. looking no less emotional than she did a moment before. 5pb. looked more alarmed, shrinking slightly at the massive and imposing figure of Jack.

"You kiddin'?" he laughed, flexing his muscles and patting his torso. "Got enough firepower here to stop a fuckin' tank." MAGES. and 5pb. grew noticeably flustered, with a few women around the town square stopping to look, and grow flustered as well. James rolled his eyes.

"Twat..." he muttered, rubbing his forehead.

"I-I must say, y-you have impressive physique," MAGES. stuttered. "But regardless, such an environment couldn't possibly...have helped...uh..." She paused, and coughed. "Oculd you please stop flexing?"

"What?" Jack grinned. "I'm bein' distractin'?"

"Yes. Wait, no. Um. Please stop." Shrugging, Jack sat himself down, and town square life returned to normal, but with a new topic of conversation.

"You overly-muscular prick..." James muttered. "Why'd you spend time at the gym as much as you did? Were you fuckin' expectin' to show off in front of a wizard and a pop star?"

"Depends," Jack replied flatly, checking his watch. "Did my showin' off work?" MAGES. glared at him.

"I don't want to answer."

Just before James could make a snide remark, there was the sudden sound of tyres screeching across the town square, as well as people screaming. A black van had pulled up outside the bank just over the square, and as the doors slid open, Jack and James already knew what the hell was going on. A group of white-suited and blue-shirted men leapt from the back of the van, clutching a variety of weapons and equipment ranging from AK-47 rifles to M249 machine guns, and all of them were wearing the same look of determination. A loud burst of gunfire rang out from one of the two men that had split off from the main group, prompting many of the women in the area to scream in terror. A second later, the second man had fired his AK at the police officer that was running towards them, arcs of blood trailing from ragged holes in her body as she slammed into the ground. "All of you, down! NOW!" yelled the man with the smoking gunbarrel as he aimed his weapon all around. Jack leaned forwards and grabbed 5pb. and MAGES. by their collars, pulling them over the railings to take cover behind a large plant pot.

That's when it clicked.

Jack knew those guys.

"James," Jack said quickly, grabbing his shotgun from its leaning position on the rail. "You remember all those Russians in the training camp?"

"Yeah, those mobsters that were on death row or somethin', right?" James replied sharply, unfolding his AW rifle's stock and chambering a round, before putting an Uzi in his hand.

"And now they've been sent to another civilization, armed with whatever weapons they want. Nothin's stoppin' them."

"Except us?" James asked.

"Except us." Jack grinned back, climbing into a crouch and slinging his shotgun. He unbuttoned his holster, and withdrew his Skorpion. "You ready for a little police brutality, mate?"

James racked the bolt on his Uzi, slinging his prepared AW over his back and grinning in a way that'd get him sectioned back on Earth. "Let's get some homicide done."

Before MAGES. or 5pb. could say anything, James and Jack vaulted the rail, weapons forward towards the Russian mobsters.