Evolution Leaps into the Stream of Life

by Shadow Master

(BtVS/FF7 Universe/Elements of Marvel Comics/Elements of DC Comics) You ever have a plan to turn the tables on someone you hate? A way to turn a sucky night into something fun? Xander does but then 'good intentions' comes into play.

3. Life has its ups and downs

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the copyrighted materials contained herein. They are the rightful property of their respective creators and/or associated companies. I make no profit from this whatsoever and I have no intention of changing this in the future. I write because it's fun and because there are those who enjoy reading my stories. Therefore it would be greatly appreciated if no legal action were taken against me.

PS-Positive reviews will be appreciated. Constructive criticism will be considered but not necessarily acted upon. People looking to write vile things and generally call my works trash will be at the very least ignored and at the very most review blocked.

One Month Later, The Princess Bar, Late Evening

Xander's POV

"See you tomorrow, Sayuri." he said as he continued to wipe down the bar.

"See ya, boss!" Sayuri said, half turning around in order to wave goodbye.

Not bad for the first month in business, he thought as he watched the last of the customers stumble their way towards the door. Only a few complaints and no trouble from that prick of an Advisor.

He was glad that the fool had taken his warning all those months ago seriously because it would've really soured the mood for him if he had to deal with trumped up charges or harassment. According to Sadao, the Turtle's Paradise was trouble free as well, aside from the few loud drunks that were regulars, so it looked like that agent of the R.I.B. had a good memory.

A pity since he wouldn't have minded giving the idiot a refresher course on what happens to guys who try to rape women.

As the last person left he went about cleaning the bar from one side to another, then taking stock of what booze he was short on and how soon he'd have to put in an order for a fresh shipment. The next bit was rather unique since he'd put a small kitchen into the plans to be placed to the rear of the building so he could serve a few meals. By meals he wasn't talking about just the usual assortment of side dishes or snacks that were common to bars, but rather real breakfast, lunch and dinner meals as well. It was a hard at times since not every ingredient he was familiar with existed in this dimension but, with some trial and error, along with some help from Sadao, he managed to find substitutes.

One of the few times where a healing factor was useful was that it helped overcome getting sick because of whatever you ate.

He still puked once or twice when tasting his 'culinary creations', though.

He was about to move into the kitchen to clean up there when he heard the front door open and he realized that he probably should've put out the closed sign before starting clean up. Turning around to tell whoever had entered that he was closing down for the night, he stopped when he beheld a hooded man wearing clothes that looked like hand me downs from the royal servant's closet. He couldn't see the man's face but whoever it was obviously didn't want people to get a good look at his face, so that meant he was either a criminal or on the run from one. The former he didn't have any trouble serving so long as they didn't cause him any trouble and didn't forget to pay their bill before they left. As for the latter, he had no issue with serving them either and, if he could somehow be of help in dealing with the pursuing criminals, he'd do what he could.

First things first though: get more info.

"We're closing up for the night so unless this is an emergency, I'm afraid you're going to have to come back tomorrow," he said walking casually towards the newcomer.

"I wouldn't call it an emergency but it is important to me," declared a familiar voice before the young man pulled back the hood obscuring his face. "After all, I've wanted to see how well my investment turned out for a while now but tonight was the soonest I could come."

Surprise swam through his mind for a moment as he recognized the voice and soon after did the same to the face that was revealed.

Godo Kisaragi.

Now the outfit made sense since he doubted it was permissible for the prince of Wutai to go off on his own without an armed escort, much less pay a visit to a middle class bar.

"Well, I'm glad you could make it," he said with his lopsided smile. "Food and drinks on me. What'll you have?"

"I'm not sure. I've never had food or drink that wasn't already chosen for me," Godo said as he sat down next to the bar. "Everything has to be tested for poisons, everything has to be 'fit for a prince' and no one cares if I actually like what they put in front of me. What do you recommend?"

"Sounds rough. Well, there are a few dishes and bottles that sell pretty good, so you'll probably like them," he replied as he looked through his bottles of booze before selecting a frequently requested liquor. "Have a glass of this and I'll see if there's enough for a plate in the kitchen."

Pouring only half a glass just in case Godo didn't like it, he then journeyed to the kitchen to put together a meal. It was yet another thing that he'd had to get used to while running a bar in the Final Fantasy universe: no modern appliances. There was no Mako reactor in the country and that meant no electricity and that meant no refrigerators, modern ovens or things like blenders. Therefore he had to cut a fair amount of firewood to get a fire going so he could cook things, forcing him to judge how hot it was by what he could feel rather than notches surrounding a dial. He needed an ice box to keep certain foods and ingredients from going bad too quickly but thankfully there was a vendor nearby who used ice materia that he could buy it off of. As for stirring things, he had to do it all by hand, making preparing a meal a time consuming affair like never before. Fortunately in this case he'd learned to make a lot of meals that could be cooked in bulk and, unless he was mistaken, there should be just enough for one plate still on the stove.

A few scoops here, a little pouring there and top it all off with a sprinkle of herbs on top and the meal was ready to eat with no need to heat it up any further.

Carrying the plate back into the main area of the bar he found Godo sipping on the drink, looking intrigued and but not happy in a 'I just found my new favorite drink' sort of way. Still, there were a few others he could try based on the young man's opinion of his current drink but he'd have to make sure to cut him off before he got too sloshed. Not only would being drunk make things a bit harder for the young prince to sneak back into his room but hangovers were no fun if you didn't have a healing factor to make quick work of them. Setting the plate down on the bar, he leaned back against the shelf behind him waiting to see what Godo's opinion of the drink was.

"Not entirely unpleasant but not something one gulps." Godo declared, cluing into what was expected.

"True. Most people who order it take it in sips," he said, recalling what he'd observed in the past. "There are a couple of others you can try if you want."

"Maybe later," Godo said before taking his first mouthful of the meal.

From the way the man's face lit up with surprise and pleasure, he knew he'd chosen the right meal to be the prince's first taste of Princess Bar food.

"This is delicious! What is it?" Godo asked before putting another mouthful in his mouth.

"Well, I'd based it on a meal I had a while back but I couldn't get the same ingredients so I improvised in more than a few spots," he replied trying to keep things obscure. "It's technically not even the same meal anymore. I just call it the sensation special… at least until I can come up with a better name for it."

"Well it certainly is sensational!" Godo said on his third spoonful. "I don't suppose I could get the recipe? For my cook?"

"As long as you make him promise not to tell a soul how to make it," he replied, glad that his meal was liked so much. "I spent a good couple of hours putting it together but it won't do me a lot of good if every business in Wutai has their own version by the end of the year."

"I shall make certain that none of the specifics are allowed to spread," Godo said with surprising seriousness, making him believe that the prince could be trusted.

Taking out a piece of paper from beneath the bar he quickly jotted down the steps to make the meal, the ingredients required and even where those items could be purchased. Once he was done he passed the paper to Godo, who promptly folded it up with signs of many years of practice before tucking it away.

"So, what's new and interesting up in the royal palace?" he asked, deciding to take control of the conversation for the time being.

"Nothing particularly interesting. Just the day to day decisions that need to be made in order to keep a country running smoothly," Godo replied, sounding like he was positively bored by it all before a grin appeared on his face. "Still, it has been fun making Chi-ryu jump at shadows the last couple of months. He seems to be under the impression that an intruder could come for his life at any time."

"Oh? What could've made him think that?" he asked, doing his best to sound innocent.

"About five months or so ago someone managed to get into the royal grounds undetected and threatened my advisor's life. Left some nasty looking cuts on his upper arm," Godo replied with a look that he already had a pretty good idea of what happened. "The palace guards did everything they could to find the intruder but he managed to slip away without a trace. Chi-ryu was quite upset by this but, when asked for details, he wouldn't say and merely stressed the need to increase security."

"Sounds like a good idea," he said with a smirk. "You can't be too careful these days. Still, as long as he's on his best behavior, I don't think Chi-ryu has anything to worry about. People generally only try to kill others if they're given a good reason to."

"My thoughts exactly," Godo stated with a matching grin.

"Speaking of people trying to kill someone, I don't suppose you could tell me who hired those assassins to kill you the first time we met?" he asked as a moment of curiosity overtook him.

"Since the matter is settled I suppose I can tell you," Godo replied after taking in another mouthful. "Not every noble family in Wutai is on good terms with the Kisaragi clan. My father is rather inflexible when it comes to living one's life according to a warrior's code of honor and defending our culture from outside influences. As a result he expects those below him to do the same and this has limited the… opportunities the nobles can take advantage of. Many of them would be much happier if a new and more 'open minded' ruler would replace my father and so they targeted me. As the only son of the Emperor of Wutai, if I died there would be no one to carry on my father's way of life as he is too old to father another son to take my place.

"The shooter you rendered unconscious was quite stubborn at first but eventually our interrogators managed to trick him into giving us a valuable clue about his master's identity. From there the investigation went quickly and the noble who masterminded the affair has been imprisoned for the rest of his life." Godo sounded maliciously satisfied. "My father wanted to have him executed but I managed to convince him that a living prisoner would serve as a better example to the others than a dead one. Let the fool live out his entire life watching my family prosper and grow!"

"I like the way you think, Godo," he said, nodding with approval at the punishment.

While there were situations where only death was an acceptable punishment for a crime, there were times when something worse than death was the better way to go.

From there the two of them talked about the things they'd heard, seen and done since that fateful day when they'd first met. Godo was only able to stick around for two hours before he had to leave to get back to his room, explaining any longer and his father might send out the palace guard looking for him. That was not something either of them wanted due to the hassles that'd stick around long after the prince was escorted back to the palace. In his case he'd probably come under extra scrutiny for a couple of weeks and that'd affect his overall customer flow and that would affect his profits. It'd be temporary, probably, but it'd still reduce profits and, while he wasn't lacking for customers or money at the moment, no businessman liked losing money or the customers that gave them money.

Still, it was nice to know that he now had an ally of sorts in the royal palace.

It was good having a prince for a friend.

One Year Later, Unknown Location

"The time has come, my brothers!" the Chief Assassin declared from atop the stage. "Tonight we will exact our revenge on the outsider who killed so many of our kin and aided the foul Kisaragi clan in their foul imprisonment of our Lord and Master! We have watched! We have studied! Tonight Alexander Howlett DIES!"

A roar of agreement and revenge fueled fury filled the air as over thirty assassins raised either a fist or a weapon into the air in a show of solidarity.

This had been a long time in coming and for some it had been TOO long, but it would be well worth the effort. Ever since their Lord had been arrested for his attempt to overthrow the tyrannical Kisaragi clan, they had been working towards this day. In civilian clothes they'd watched the person most responsible for their Lord's incarceration both from the streets as well as in the outsider's bar. They almost exhaustively studied his every movement, looking for clues to his abilities, his skills and the tactics he would employ if engaged in battle. The last had proven difficult to acquire until it was found that Alexander occasionally played games with a local elderly man and the games in question required the use of strategy. Once they knew which games would be played it was a simple matter of observing every game closely and then analyzing it all after the fact for patterns.

One of the first things they learned was that their target had amazingly sharp senses, forcing them to monitor the direction the wind was blowing at all times in order to ensure that they remained downwind of him. After a few close calls they also employed oils and other substances to further mask their presence and make them seem to belong to whatever location they were watching him from. They did not know if his senses of sight and hearing were equally as sharp as his sense of smell but there were strong indicators that this might be the case. As a result they all went through exhaustive training to become as silent and stealthy as they possibly could in order to minimize the chances of being detected.

They had also thoroughly questioned the R.I.B. agent that had, according to various sources, gotten into an altercation with the target at the Turtle's Paradise. They had been somewhat surprised to learn that the bladed weapons they had evidence for were actually implanted into Alexander's fists and could be extended or retracted at will. Such implants had been considered by various members of their group but were deemed too impractical in the end due to the dependency on healing potions and materia. Whether the man used materia or potions somehow to heal the damage caused by his implements they could deal with them well enough. All they needed to do was act before he could heal himself and keep him from using either option or materia during the battle. If they did so he would bleed, greatly weakening him all the quicker, allowing them to deliver the killing blow.

Finally, in case of an emergency, the leader of their group had fire and lightning materia on his person that was two thirds mastered. It was a last resort option that would only be employed if it became clear that their standard weapons would not be enough to slay the target. They had their honor, after all, and up until the attempted assassination of Godo Kisaragi they had every reason to believe that their standard weapons would be enough to slay any target. However, thanks to Alexander Howlett, a black mark had been put on their reputation, making a few faithless fools question the effectiveness of their group.

Such doubters had been given one chance to redeem themselves and, for those that'd failed, they would at least find honor in death.

Soon, though… soon the cause of their problems and shame would be dead and they would wipe the stain from their honor once and for all.

Or die trying.

One Week Later, Sunset, Streets of Wutai Village, Xander's POV

Of all the time for Shusuke's cart to bust a wheel... he thought as he carried the crate of wine bottles down the street. Hopefully things won't get too busy for Sayuri.

Business had picked up the last couple of days thanks to the monthly fighting tournament and while it was keeping everyone at the Princess Bar busy it was also quite profitable. In the beginning it'd taken while for tourists and locals to work up the courage to try the new bar instead of going to the old familiar one but fortunately, once they got past that hurdle, everything was fine. Now, just like he'd originally intended, the Turtle's Paradise Bar referred business to him and he in turn referred business back to them. They'd even worked up a system where he'd mostly have just the more potent liquors, with only a small selection of the tamer ones, while Sadao would have the opposite. This way they'd still be able to cater to the desires of their customers and, if they didn't have the right booze, they could refer the person to the other bar. It benefited them both but, because he stocked mostly the strong stuff, it required that half of it be shipped in from other places on the planet by boat. Normally Shusuke would load it into his cart and drop it off in front of the bar but, with the busted wheel, he'd been forced to go pick it up.

Stupid dock paperwork! he thought with some irritation at the requirement that he sign it himself since he was the owner of the bar and the receiver.

Walking down the dirt road, he took in things that had become familiar to him since he'd first come to the village and decided that, even if he never found a way to return home, this wouldn't be such a bad place to live out his days. Here no one knew of Tony and Jessica Harris. They only knew him as Alexander Howlett, or Xander as he let his friends call him. He was not judged by his parents' mistakes and poor personalities but rather by his own behavior and choices. It was a clean slate. Add to that the fact that he had the powers of a seriously badass character from Marvel Comics and he could definitely say he'd upgraded to a better life.

Now if only the other Scoobies had been dragged along for the ride... he thought as he turned a corner. Then everything would be-

His mind froze as he took in the street before him and instantly noticed that something was not right, enough to set him on edge. It was a street that he frequently went down so he knew how it looked at just about any time of day but what he saw was not its typical sunset position. Usually around this time an elderly couple from two buildings down would be sitting outside enjoying a drink while they took in the beautiful sunset. They were nowhere to be seen. There was also some scattered clutter that he didn't recall being there on his way down to the docks. Two carts and a sizeable stack of boxes were set out in suspicious places to be precise. These things immediately caused him to be wary so he took three deep sniffs of the air that, thanks to months of practice, he was getting better at deciphering what his nose was telling him.

There was nothing immediately alarming, like the smell of gunpowder or blood, but the sheer difference from what he was used to convinced him to carry the crate entirely in his left arm while keeping his right arm free. Resuming his walk down the unnatural street, he kept his eyes open for any sign of trouble while listening for anything suspicious. He knew this wasn't the Hellmouth and that in the Final Fantasy universe, if a monster or a group of monsters decided to cause trouble, they tended to be noticed fairly quickly, but he just couldn't shake the feeling of unease inside him. The longer he was without an answer to the cause, the more uneasy he felt so, when his instincts suddenly roared within, he reacted without thinking.

Spinning around he lashed out, executing a roundhouse kick, but then three things happened that he had not anticipated. First his eyes registered a man wearing the same gear as the assassins that'd tried to kill Godo his first day in Wutai Village. The second was that, even though he had acted spontaneously, the assassin had been quick enough to evade his kick. The third thing was that, before his leg could get out of reach the killer lashed out with his ninjato sword, slicing through the back of the lower part. It wasn't just a paper cut either but rather a good inch and a half deep, causing him to grunt in pain and, when he tried to put weight on it a second later, he almost went down to one knee.

Not good! I haven't had a chance to raise my fighting game since I fought them last and the only reason I won last time was because of my claws, he thought as he threw the crate of wine at the assassin to buy himself some time. With only one of their guys surviving I have no way of knowing how much intel about the fight got back to the main group. Probably mostly rumors and speculation, but even with that there's a good chance they've upped their game since then. Not good.

Feeling the wound in his leg heal up in seconds, he strengthened his stance and immediately brought out his claws since he wasn't in the mood to get unnecessarily cut up in this fight.

"If you're looking for payback, bub, then I hope you've got your affairs in order," he said even as his attacker moved to attack him once more.

Deciding to go with a move filled with shock value, he executed a slash with his right hand, targeting not his enemy but rather the weapon that'd cut him. It was his belief that, if the guy saw his trusted blade cut through like it was paper, the asshole might rethink his plan of revenge since what could be done to tempered metal could also be done to flesh and bone. However things didn't go according to plan since, instead of trying to overpower his slash, the killer skillfully parried it aside, losing only about a quarter of an inch of his blade's width in the process. Then the assassin executed a thrust kick aimed at his jaw that he reflexively avoided even though he'd have suffered no permanent damage if he'd been hit and his opponent might have injured his foot. Expecting that the guy would retract his foot before attacking again he figured he had a good chance to end the fight immediately. Bringing his left fist up, he prepared to plunge the claws into the killer's side, thus dealing a wound that would kill the guy in seconds. However before he could, his adversary did something straight out of a martial arts film by hooking his extended foot behind his head and used it to back flip out of the way. To say that he was impressed would be quite accurate but he still didn't think he'd lose this fight since, according to the comic books, Wolverine could come back from just about anything shy of decapitation.

He may go through a butt load of pain but, as long as he kept his head, both figuratively as well as literally, he'd come out on top.

Seeing the assassin lunge forward for another strike, he made it look like he was going to try to cut the blade again but at the last second he sheathed his blades. Surprise blossomed in his enemy's eyes as he over swung his blade and an opening appeared that he did not hesitate to pounce on. With superhuman reflexes he grabbed the wrist of the man's extended arm and lashed out with the still-extended claws from his other hand, severing the limb just below the elbow.

"AAAHHHH!" the assassin screamed out in pain as he instinctively backed away from the source of the threat.

It didn't do him much good.

With a mind still awash with the shock and pain of having part of his arm cut off, the killer couldn't think clearly and therefore did not react quickly enough to the follow up attack. Pushing off the ground with all the strength his legs possessed he lunged forward and rammed the newly redeployed blades from his right fist right into the stomach of his opponent. Knowing that there was a chance the man could use materia to heal or use a potion, he decided to maximize the damage by savagely pushing his right hand upwards, causing his blades to cut their way free. With such damage there was no way a potion or a spell could save the assassin's life, thus ensuring that the threat was over. Looking at the bloody body on the ground, he couldn't help but wonder what this lone assassin had hoped to accomplish by attacking him alone. Even with only sketchy details of the attempt on Godo being available, this guy must've known that he was capable of taking him on and likely winning. Was it some kind of honor in death thing?

Whatever it was, it's over now. He sheathed the blades in both his arms.

A faint whiff of something foul and the twang of taut string being released was the only warning he got that someone was going to prove him wrong. The sound came from behind him so he dove to the side since there were bad odds when he considered just standing and evading it or trying to deflect it with his claws. However whoever the archer was they were good and, despite his actions, the arrow succeeded in piercing his upper leg but it must've hit his bones since it didn't come through the other side. Hitting the ground, he grimaced at the pain he was feeling but that didn't stop him from ripping out the arrow so that his healing factor could patch up the wound.

Throwing the projectile away, he looked back in the direction of where the arrow had come from and spotted another two assassins, both with bows and quivers full of arrows at their disposal. Getting to his feet as quickly as he could, he knew he had to get out of the archers line of sight unless he wanted them to pepper him with arrows. Sure, he could've charged their position since ranged warriors tended to be weak in close quarters combat, but he wasn't going to dance to that tune. If there were three assassins after him then there were probably more and, without knowing just how many were in the area, it'd be stupid to just try to cut his way through. Even with a healing factor there'd been times in the comics where the enemy succeeded in wearing the man down enough to render Logan unconscious by piling on the damage. They'd need a helluva lot of bullets or a lot of men willing to throw their lives away just to do him serious damage but it was a possibility worth considering.

If I'm going to come out on top, I need to get to a place where they won't be able to hide their numbers so well, he thought as he prepared to run for a nearby alley. The open area around the well nearby should fit the bill nicely.

However, as he took his step, a feeling of numbness began to manifest within his body, making his legs harder to move than they should have been. It got so bad that by the time he took ten steps, it was all he could do to keep himself standing and when he wondered what the cause could have been his mind immediately latched onto one thing: poison. The arrow that'd pierced his leg must've been dipped in a poison of some kind and now that poison was robbing him of his ability to move properly. Two more spikes of pain blossomed in his back as the archers sunk more arrows into him and he knew that, if they were laced with poison as well, he was running out of time. Given enough time he was sure his healing factor would flush the poison from his body, getting it back to normal, but there was no telling when that would be. It could take one minute or it could take five but with fresh poison being introduced by the archers, it'd only be after they used up their ammunition that his body would have a chance to do its work.

He wasn't willing to remain vulnerable for that long.

So it was with a look of resolve and anger that he turned to face the archers and, with a roar worthy of Wolverine, he charged towards their position with every ounce of speed he could muster. Seeing a cart coming up on his right he decided he'd use it as a springboard to get to the rooftops but, when he leapt up on the cart, he heard something click.

An explosion launched him into the air even as the bits of frag from the bomb tore into the leg that'd triggered it. Fortunately for him the assassins misjudged his weight and so, instead of sailing over the archers, as had no doubt been the plan, he went flying right at them. Claws leading the way he pierced both through their throats, taking them down to the surface of the roof, killing them both. Rolling away from the street that'd likely been chosen to be the sight of his death, he let himself fall to the ground of the next street over before looking down at his wounds. His jeans were pretty torn up but thankfully there wasn't a lot of shrapnel to pick out of his legs, so he was able to remove all of them, allowing them to heal before his eyes. Reaching back with both hands he pulled out the arrows from his back, or rather what was left of them after he'd rolled off the rooftop, but once they were thrown away he renewed his efforts to get to the open area around the nearby well.

It was a tough couple of minutes getting there but by the time he did he could feel the numbing effects of the poison beginning to wear off. It'd still be another few minutes before he'd be completely back to normal but, so long as he was careful not to get hit with any more of those special arrows, he'd be fine. Keeping his back to the wooden post that was built into the side of the well, he looked about with his eyes waiting for the next assassin to appear. He was sure there'd be at least three more and, if he wanted to avoid any unnecessary pain, he needed to see them coming as soon as possible.

They appeared a minute later but, instead of thinking 'exactly what I wanted', he instantly began to regret bringing this fight into such an open area. Coming at him from every street, alley and rooftop were what looked to be thirty assassins, give or take a few, and they each wielded a different weapon associated with pre-modern martial arts movies. Swords, those naginata rifle weapons, bows and arrows, kusarigama and many other weapons were seen in the hands of people he had a feeling knew how to use them with deadly proficiency. It occurred to him at that moment that the three earlier attackers must've been a probing assault meant to show them firsthand how he fought as well as how effective their weapons would be against him. The odds were definitely against him but, when he considered fleeing, he realized that that could wind up endangering innocent people since he doubted if this many assassins were dead set on revenge that they'd give up easily.

FINE! If it's a fight they want then it's a fight they'll get. His resolve become like a solid iron bar within him. Now's as good a time as any to see just how far I can go.

SNIKT! SNIKT!

"Well? Are you going to get this little match started or what?" he asked, trying to sound like he saw this as just a sparring match.

They charged.

Hidden in Shadows Close By

Well now! Isn't this unexpected, he thought as he took in the scene before him. This is certainly more than I'd expected when I was ordered to infiltrate Wutai.

When he'd been told that he would be sent out to investigate an area to see if it was potentially rich with Mako, he'd been convinced that he'd done something wrong. After all he was a Turk, not some Shinra science geek, but it'd been explained to him that the feelings in Wutai towards Shinra were not positive enough to make sending a scientist practical. Apparently these people felt rather highly about themselves and preferred to live in the past than ride the wave into the future. It was made a side mission of his that, if it turned out that Wutai was prime for a Mako reactor, to begin evaluating all the strengths and weaknesses of the nation. This would give the future negotiators, both 'aggressive' and not so, information to work with so that they could persuade the ruler of Wutai of the wisdom of becoming an ally of Shinra.

He'd only been in the country for about a month posing as a travelling salesman but from what he'd seen the locals would be fools not to take what his bosses had to offer. So many of their ways were needlessly difficult and could be facilitated so much by even the most basic of Shinra appliances that rejecting the advanced technology would be akin to rejecting good medicine. Plus there was also the compassionate route to take in that, with Shinra science, many of the diseases and medical issues that brought about the deaths of many Wutai citizens could be remedied through modern advances. Indeed, there were only two things that stood as obstacles to Shinra coming to Wutai: their ruler and their code of honor.

Thankfully, if his bosses got rid of one thing, the other would take care of itself.

If they got rid of the current ruler of Wutai and secretly backed a more flexible replacement, then that newbie could begin introducing changes in what was considered 'acceptable'. Naturally it'd have to be gradual since coming on too strong from the very beginning would provoke resistance from those citizens who'd lived the old ways for so long. Fortunately there were people in the Urban Development Department who'd become more than adept to subtly changing the opinions of the masses so it wouldn't take much to draw up some propaganda for Wutai. Within a decade they could have the locals here practically holding a parade in Shinra's honor and the local military throwing away their old weapons for the latest in company armaments.

However, if the ruler of Wutai couldn't be removed, then they would simply have to orchestrate scenarios that would specifically exploit the weaknesses of their code of honor. Oh, they would have to be careful in order to ensure that no one ever made a connection between the 'completely unconnected series of phenomena' and Shinra, but he didn't think there'd be much of a problem with that. The people of Wutai were so obsessed with their honor that the very idea of being sneaky and underhanded was no more familiar than words on a piece of paper. Not that they couldn't be stealthy, of course, but there was a difference between stealthy and sneaky that most people didn't get. Being stealthy meant operating by a set of routines and letting the environment dictate your actions whereas being sneaky meant influencing your environment to facilitate your actions.

All in all he'd been about ready to head down to the docks and book passage out of the country so he could report to his superiors when he stumbled upon this little fight, one that had grown interesting enough to make him risk taking out his spy camera and begin recording.

At first the only thing that'd interested him was that so many assassins looked to be determined to kill a single man who didn't match any of the pictures in the VIP folder he'd been handed. The guy looked like he'd been cut up pretty badly already but must've had some 'do not show pain to the enemy' mentality going on because he was standing firm at the moment. However it'd been then that he'd been given a second reason to be interested when two sets of three parallel blades popped out of the man's fists. With his camera he used the zoom function to focus on the blades and, surprisingly, he saw that they hadn't come from some hidden apparatus or weapon sheathe but rather from the man's very own flesh and blood fists. Intriguing enough on its own but, coupled with the fact that there was no bleeding occurring like there should have been, and it'd been enough for him to begin recording.

From there a fight had started unlike any he'd seen before.

If he told some of his co-workers back home about the numbers involved, they'd have assumed that the single man would've perished in the first few seconds. However assume anything and you make an ass out of yourself as well as others because the fight most certainly did NOT end in the first few seconds. The only people that perished within the first few seconds were the assassins that'd been closest to the lone guy since they failed to react quickly enough to his charge. It amazed him that the blades were so sharp that there was practically no resistance from the armor the trained killers wore as it was cut through. Blood was launched into the air from the speed and force of the slash but the single stranger didn't stop to admire his work, but rather moved onto the next target.

This proved to be the right move.

While fighting in an open area did give the archers and riflemen clear lines of sight to their target, the number of assassins present meant that moving quickly among them forced those that wished the sole opponent dead to use precise timing with their shots. One mistake, one screw up, and they'd wind up injuring or killing one of their own, only increasing the odds of their target surviving their assault. He managed to keep the camera focused on the clawed stranger without too much trouble so he was able to see when an arrow and a bullet hit their mark but strangely enough this only staggered the stranger a bit. He knew from past experience that if a Shinra trooper got hit with one or both of those shots, they'd have been on the ground in pain and bleeding out but that wasn't what was happening. Did the guy have some kind of body armor on he couldn't see?

C'mon, c'mon! Give me a clear look! he thought as he tried to zoom in to his camera's maximum level on the bullet and arrow wounds.

It was a moment later that the stranger stopped for a moment but that was all he needed to get as good a look through his camera as he was going to get without getting any closer. Watching as the arrow was ripped out of flesh, he'd expected to see blood begin to pour out of the wound but instead he saw something he would never forget. The wound actually healed on its own! In SECONDS! In less time than it took for the tossed arrow to hit the ground the wound closed up, HEALED, leaving not even a scar behind! Adjusting the aim of his camera to where the bullet wound had been, he watched as miraculously the bullet was literally PUSHED OUT of the wound before it healed itself up just like the arrow wound had once the projectile was removed.

How the hell is he doing this!?

He knew the man didn't have any potions on him because he'd kept the camera on the guy the entire time and the clothes the guy had weren't made to hold anything but change or the smallest of bottles. Definitely nothing big enough to hold the fist-sized potion bottles that were used to heal wounds in the middle of a fight. He considered one of the various materia that could heal wounds but, after looking in all the usual places, he couldn't see a single accessory where a sphere of Mako could be seen. When added to the fact that there was usually a glow effect that accompanied the use of materia of any kind and those sources of magic couldn't possibly be the source of the man's regeneration.

THIS WAS AMAZING!

He was definitely going to get a BIG raise, maybe even a PROMOTION, for bringing back this video alone, never mind the rest of the stuff about Wutai!

Knowing that the more footage he could bring back the better, he kept the camera trained on the deadly stranger, making sure to capture everything he could without zooming back too far. The assassins were definitely not amateurs from the way they wielded their weapons but he knew they wouldn't win. After all how could you kill someone that could recover from wounds almost as quickly as you could inflict them? The only option was to overwhelm whatever ability was allowing the stranger to recover but, without pinning down your target with firepower and making dodging impossible, that wouldn't happen. Also, in a move that struck him with awe, he actually saw the stranger's claws slice THROUGH the blade of an assassin's sword with even more ease than the earlier slice through armor. What metal were the metal claws made of? Could they cut through anything or was there a metal out there that it wouldn't be able to even scratch?

He almost wished that one of the assassins would cut off even a sliver of the metal the claws were made of so he could recover it after the fight to bring back to Shinra. After all, video footage was all well and good, but having something tangible to hand over to the Science Department would definitely secure him a promotion. Sadly, no matter how hard or from what angle the assassins struck, all they got for their efforts were sparks or destroyed weaponry. It was only slightly disappointing to him since the footage he was getting would at least make sure he got a fat bonus on his next paycheck.

A little over fifteen minutes rolled by and the number of assassins had been reduced to less than half of what they'd started out with and it didn't look like they'd be turning things around anytime soon. As for the source of his future monetary bonus or promotion, the young man's clothes were in even worse shape than before, with the shirt hanging off him by a thread and the pants almost looking more like shorts at the moment. As for the man's physical state, he looked a little wobbly but was recovering since his stance was becoming firmer by the minute, making him think that whatever was causing the guy to heal so fast was also revitalizing him.

AMAZING!

It was at this time though that the assassins changed their demeanor from killers determined to bring down their prey to something else entirely. Without warning all but one of the remaining assassins charged the stranger as quickly as possible while reaching underneath their armor with one hand. It mystified him for a moment but then a shocking possibility blossomed in his mind, almost causing him to cry out 'BOMB', but he was too slow. The second they were within range of their target all of the assassins yanked back the hands they'd put beneath their armor and in a blink of an eye the suicide bombers exploded. Hit with fire, shrapnel and concussive force from all sides the stranger's body was torn up as though being cut by a thousand blades. Under such an onslaught it was no wonder that the victim dropped to the ground less than a minute later because there was no way whatever healing ability he possessed could stand up to that much punishment.

Ah well! Guess I'll have to stick around here a little longer and find out what they plan to do with the body, he thought with a bit of disappointment. If I have to dig it up and steal it so I can get it back to Shinra, so be it. They'll just have to be satisfied with a corpse.

Watching as the assassin walked up to the likely dying young man, he wondered if the interesting fellow would be put out of his misery or left to die slowly.

"Now, at the end, you see the price for tarnishing the honor of my brothers and sisters, outsider," the Leader of the Assassins declared, sounding confident in his victory. "You put up a valiant struggle and what I have learned here tonight will be put to use to train the future members of our group so that we may become even deadlier and unstoppable. As you die know that Godo Kisaragi will follow you into death, slain by my own hand, removing the sole failure from our history forever. FAREWELL!"

With a single downward thrust the leader of the assassins moved to kill his prey with a single move but it soon became clear that the loudmouth had taken too much time with his little speech.

The young man moved to the side and, with a bit of weakness, managed to roll to his feet.

This shocked both him and the lead assassin as both of them had presumed that the teenager had been defeated and was only awaiting death, but clearly that was not the case. Looking through his camera lens, he watched as the damage from the multiple close proximity explosions healed up until only blood remained to hint at what had been there previously. INCREDIBLE! He had been so sure that the young man had been killed or mortally wounded by the suicidal assault but the regenerative powers he possessed were truly amazing. Explosions such as the ones the teenager had suffered would have been enough to do serious damage to all but armored vehicles and all they had done was temporarily immobilize the one they'd been used against. Had the damage actually been what had kept the young man down or had the wind simply been knocked from his lungs?

Either way he was now more than certain that his superiors would be thrilled when he showed them the footage.

"You're not going to hurt ANYONE, bub!" the young man snarled. "In fact, I hope you said your prayers before coming out tonight, 'cause you're going to need'em!"

The young man charged the lead assassin, claws ready to strike, and the assassin reacted moments later by executing a potent fire spell. A pillar of fire erupted beneath the charging teenager but any damage it did was only temporary since the healing ability the young man had quickly repaired the damage. It didn't stop the charge and only barely managed to slow it down, so the assassin fired off another spell, no doubt hoping that it'd fare better. A lightning bolt appeared out of nowhere from above, striking its target enough to stagger the teen but, even as electricity bounced around the immediate area for a bit, the effects were only temporary. In the end the assassin looked about ready to withdraw and plan his kill anew but by then it was too late for, with a savage roar, the young man finally reached the killer.

"RRAAAGGGHHHH!"

The young man yelled as he plunged both sets of claws into the assassin's body.

However this was not the end but rather the beginning because, with an impressive show of strength, the teen pulled his arms away from each other, cutting further the killer's body and the one who'd looked victorious a few minutes ago had been sliced in half. With that done the confrontation was over and somehow this wondrous being had managed to survive a battle against thirty assassins dedicated to his demise. True, the clothes the young man had been wearing were now barely enough to keep from violating certain public nudity laws but that was hardly relevant as far as he was concerned.

Turning off his camera and returning it to the bag he'd been carrying it in, he carefully made his way away from the blood-peppered battlefield towards the docks where his ship would be waiting for him. He had much to report and his superiors would not look kindly on any kind of delay, especially with intel THIS valuable.

True, he hadn't quite gotten ALL the information that usually was put into an undercover report, but he doubted his boss would mind.

NO ONE would mind!

Of this he was certain.

The Princess Bar, Hours Later, Xander's POV

Damn asshole assassins! he growled as he prepared to close up for the night. Not only do they cost me a crate of wine but they also ruined the clothes I was wearing when I got dropped into this dimension! The only good thing is that I didn't wear my biker jacket to get the wine!

He'd managed to get back to the bar easily enough after the fight but he'd had to sneak into his upstairs apartment since he didn't feel like walking through the front door and going up the stairs. It would've raised way too many eyebrows and had people asking questions for weeks that would get annoying really quick. Once he was in his room he quickly disposed of what was left of the clothes on him, thanking whatever deity was listening that they'd stayed on long enough for him to get home. The idea of sneaking back while naked did not appeal to him in the least.

Thankfully he'd seen the wisdom of buying a few extra sets of clothes after arriving in Wutai Village but then it'd only been common sense. The ones he'd worn as a Halloween costume would've gotten old and stinky eventually so, unless he wanted to maintain a fifteen foot buffer zone around himself, it made sense to have something else to change into. Naturally it wasn't anything like typical California clothes or even things he recalled Logan regularly wearing, but rather local fashion that he'd found himself liking. He slipped on a fresh set of pants and a shirt before heading back downstairs to see how the bar had done in his absence while mentally making a note to order another crate of the wine that he'd lost fighting the assassins. Thankfully it wasn't expensive so he wouldn't lose too much money with a repeat order.

"When'd you get back, boss?" Sayuri asked, looking minimally surprised to see him come down the stairs. "And why'd you change clothes?"

"Ran into some trouble getting the wine and it trashed the clothes I used to have on," he replied as he went behind the bar where Daisuke had been subbing for him. "Trashed the bottles, too, so we're going to need to put in another order."

"Is it something we're going to have to worry about?" she asked, sounding a little concerned.

Reasonable.

He'd told both Daisuke and Sayuri that he had a habit of getting into trouble when he'd hired them on and told them that he couldn't guarantee some of it wouldn't come knocking on the bar's front door. He'd do his damndest to get to them if they were in trouble and, if things got really bad, he would do whatever he had to in order to draw as much danger away from them as possible. If it wound up pushing his healing factor to its limits and made him actually BEG for death, he'd bear with it if it kept the people he cared about in this dimension safe. So long as they didn't go for decapitation there was a good chance that he'd physically recover but he couldn't be so sure of his mind. Even if he'd somehow received Logan's memories along with his powers, he doubted it be much help in actually dealing with and recovering from torture.

"No, I think I made it pretty clear that bothering us again would not be conducive to a long and happy future," he replied firmly enough to let her know he'd done so seriously enough to get through even the thickest of skulls. "If they have any sense of self-preservation they'll stay FAR away from me and my friends."

To this Daisuke and Sayuri just looked at each other like they were pondering asking for details before finally deciding that they could do without knowing.

The next few hours went by without any real difficulty, though every other customer came in talking about the devastation and bodies that'd been left behind by his battle. Apparently word was spreading quickly and the entire area was swarming with soldiers as well as Wutai's equivalent to modern crime scene investigators. If scuttlebutt could be trusted no one had been named as responsible for the bloody incident and without an eyewitness it was unlikely that he'd have to worry about it any further. Sure, there were a handful of people who could probably recognize the marks left behind by his claws but, since all of them were subordinate to Godo, he was pretty sure he didn't have to worry. The prince might come to get the details of what happened but, aside from that, he doubted he'd get any prison time for what he'd done.

As it turned out it wasn't until the next day that his friend came calling and, while he looked concerned, he was not upset about what'd happened the previous night.

"So… do you want to tell me why I have bodies and pieces of bodies scattered about the village?" Godo asked, trying to sound conversational but with concern seeping through.

"Just a bunch of unemployed assassins looking to erase the one black mark on their record, aka ME," he replied with equal casualness in his voice. "It was self-defense, plain and simple."

"Self-defense usually only works so long as your life is in real danger of ending," Godo said, pointing out the guideline that most lawyers argued over. "I somehow doubt that was the case with you."

"Self-defense, in my opinion, also extends to friends and family," he said, reaching for a glass before pouring Godo's preferred drink. "Once they'd finished with me or, presuming they gave up on me, they would have come after you and, with thirty of them, your guards would've had a hard time, especially since some of them were suicide bombers. By ending them last night I kept them from coming after you."

"You don't think much of the palace guards, do you?" Godo asked, neither angry nor curious.

"Considering I managed to get in to have a 'talk' with Chi-ryu and escape without being seen, I can't say that they're the best of the best. Besides, with thirty of those lethal specialists coming at you, all it'd have taken was one of them getting through and you'd have been in a serious pinch," he replied, trying to be honest yet polite. "If more than one of them made it to you… no offense but there's no real way to defend against a bomb, especially if you don't know it's coming."

"I guess you're right," Godo conceded reluctantly as he accepted his drink. "Chi-ryu, on the other hand, is doing everything he can to have you arrested since he recognizes your handiwork. Fortunately that's all he has since someone drugged the well water with a sleeping potion putting everyone in the area out for hours. Unless someone thirsty comes forward, I doubt he'll have any justification to bring you in."

"Good. I'd hate to have to rough up whoever got sent," he said, grabbing a bottle of booze, uncorking it and taking a swig.

One of the nice benefits of having a healing factor was that made it hard as hell for him to get drunk and, even if he did get drunk, he'd need to keep drinking in order to stay intoxicated. As such he could enjoy the taste of the various beverages he had to offer his customers without having to worry about turning into Tony.

"And I'd hate to have to come up with reasons to keep father from dropping the entire Wutai army down on you," Godo said with a roll of his eyes. "Still, there shouldn't be too many more of those assassins wandering about. I'll see if I can persuade father to increase the number of troops looking for them so that they don't have time to come after you again."

"Good idea. Seeing as how thirty of them couldn't kill me, any who're left are liable to do something really nuts next time if they're given the chance," he said with a nod of agreement before he took another sip from his bottle.

From there the two of them just discussed the usual things two friends talked about when they got together, from daily events that stood out in their memory to any pretty girls that caught their eye. Granted, he wasn't looking for a girlfriend or anything but that didn't stop him from admiring the beauty of a young lady walking down the street or coming into his bar. A few had even made polite moves on him but he declined with equal politeness, saying things like he was much too busy for a relationship at the moment. Some accepted his rejection gracefully while others gave him the stink eye as he walked away, but nothing major had happened that made him think that he had to rethink his strategy towards women.

Maybe sometime down the line he might think of reentering the dating scene but for now he'd run his business, hang out with Godo when the prince could slip out of the palace and, if he ever got the itch for some action, he'd go out into the wilds to take down some monsters. There was always something to kill out there and parts of them could be sold for quite a bit of money, so it was a win-win situation.

All the while he'd keep an eye out for any sign that Shinra was about to declare war on the place because, as much as he liked Godo, Sayuri, Daisuke, Sadao and Lijuan, he didn't want to get involved in such a bloody affair. Especially since it wouldn't change the outcome of the war, so there really wouldn't be any point to him fighting or even being present. Add to that the horrors his imagination had come up with should Hojo find out about him and it'd be best for everyone if he stayed under Shinra's radar.

He'd enjoy the time he had in Wutai to the fullest and then journey to find some other place that felt like home.

Midgar, The Under Construction Shinra Tower, Board Room, Professor Isaac Hojo's POV

One Week Later

"This had better be worth my time, President Shinra," he said as he took his seat amongst the dullards that ran the other company departments. "I have important work to do at the Nibelheim labs."

"I assure you, Professor, that I would not have summoned you back here unless something had come up that required your specific expertise," President Shinra said reassuringly from his position at the head of the table.

Hmph. Whatever the fool considers important will be a mere nuisance to me. He held his tongue for the time being, though. Still, I suppose Crescent will be able to handle matters until my return.

Project S was still in the early stages, after all, requiring more tedious lab work than anything truly of interest, but he was loathe to leave even such menial tests in the hands of lesser minds. With such average skills they were barely competent enough to be called assistants and Crescent was only marginally better than them with her delusions that morality had anything to do with science. Still, there was SOME hope that she'd mature into a proper disciple of science and, if she didn't, he was sure he could find some use for her.

"As you all know we have been considering establishing Mako reactors elsewhere in the world and have been sending agents to evaluate certain potential locations. Soldiers were sent to locations in the wilds and covert agents would infiltrate other nations where the possibility of opposition existed," President Shinra explained in his boring manner. "Yesterday the covert agent we sent to the island nation of Wutai returned with some interesting information. Aside from data confirming that the land was rich with both life as well as Mako, he encountered an altercation between a young man and thirty professional assassins."

"What is so interesting about that, President?" Scarlet asked, sounding barely interested in what she'd just heard. "That a single person was slaughtered at the hands of so many trained killers is hardly unexpected."

Even though nothing but feces ever poured from the woman's mouth, he had to agree, just this once, that she had a point. Even the best and brightest among the Shinra troopers would fall when faced with such overwhelming odds, so no random human would fare any better.

"What is interesting about it is that not only did the young man survive the battle but he succeeded in killing every last one of his opponents without a single scratch to show for it afterwards," President Shinra replied, looking quite pleased with what he knew.

"Ridiculous! Even if by some astronomically great odds one man could defeat so many, it would be impossible to emerge completely unharmed," he said, dismissing the C.E.O. of Shinra's words.

The others about the table echoed his position but nothing they said affected the mustached man's grin in the least.

"I honestly didn't think you'd take my word for it. Fortunately the agent who reported this had the presence of mind to record the entire encounter on video." President Shinra pressed a button built into the section of table in front of him. "Watch and draw your own conclusions."

As a section of the wall slid up to reveal a large video screen a recording began to play almost immediately, revealing an open area in some Wutai town. In that open area were thirty armored warriors with faces concealed and wielding various weapons all of which were designed with the intent of killing whatever they were used against. Their target was a young man in his late teens or early twenties clad in a white shirt and pants of some unknown material with not a single sign of fear.

It was fairly unremarkable and certainly not worth being smug about in his opinion.

An eyebrow raised when he saw a trio of blades extend from each of the young man's fists, mildly interesting him but only just. If he was a mind to he could easily design superior implants that served a similar function but such things were so… beneath him. He was a genius, after all, and therefore it only made sense for his achievements to surpass all others, to make all other scientists seem wholly incompetent in comparison, and establish himself as the model all scientists should strive to imitate. Nevertheless, should the young man be captured by Shinra, it could be worth killing some time to inspect his arms to see if he could discern something inspirational from someone else's work.

When the fight began he almost snorted in contempt at the young man's brutish skills and lack of efficiency but he was somewhat interested in the blades themselves. His discerning eyes could see that they were capable of cutting through everything the assassins brought against them with virtually no perceivable resistance. While metal was more Scarlet's field of expertise, he was learned enough in such matters that he could immediately conclude that none of the more common ones had been used in the construction of them. Should the young man be taken into custody he would have to ensure a metallurgical analysis was done on the blades to learn what they were made of. Such metal would prove quite useful once Project S neared its logical conclusion when it came to fashioning a weapon suitable for his masterpiece.

When the recording showed the young man shot with a bullet and an arrow he thought that this would be where it would all end but, in a moment of miracles, he found himself as shocked as the rest of the people in the room, save President Shinra. The wounds actually HEALED! They healed at such an accelerated rate that in seconds there were no visible signs of injury whatsoever. The fact that the young man's movements did not appear to have been impeded either, so it was more than skin deep. This was ASTONISHING! With rapt attention he watched the video footage, scrutinizing every factor, deducing every detail, he could without any additional sources of information.

After a group of assassins blew themselves up in order to slay their target he could hear the others begin asking questions about where the body was but he knew better. Seeing the wounds that had been inflicted on the young man up until then, mentally timing how long it took for each to fully heal, he estimated that such an ability would be up to the task set before it. He was proven correct when, to the shock of everyone else in the room, the young man rose from the ground, the wounds gained from the multiple explosions healing rapidly as he did so, until only his clothes showed signs of damage.

From there the one who was rapidly gaining his interest charged the sole remaining assassin, shrugging off multiple potent magical attacks as he went, impaling the man once he got within range. When his future specimen then used his claws to tear the final assassin in half, it only further intrigued him and cemented what he would insist be done.

"What is he?" Reeve asked, sounding like he was still recovering from what he'd just seen.

"Unknown. He's obviously not a native of Wutai based on his physical characteristics and our analysts have tried to pin down a region based on what could be deduced from the footage without success," President Shinra replied with a bit of consternation in his voice. "I have made it a priority among the Turks to find out more but it will take time for them to find anything of value."

"Hmph. The answer is simple: acquire the specimen and apply the usual interrogation tactics," he said, not understanding why the President was being so roundabout the situation. "Its regenerative capabilities will ensure that it will not perish like lesser ones would and it would allow us to employ more aggressive methods."

"It would be risky. It might also interfere with our future plans for Wutai," Scarlet said, sounding a bit opposed to the idea of capturing the specimen.

"I would think the possibility of endowing our own forces with such formidable regenerative abilities would be worth any risk," he pointed out in a 'you are an idiot' tone. "It would also prove to be quite helpful with my own Project S in the future."

"Hojo has a point, Scarlet. If conflict does occur between Shinra and Wutai, initial projections show us suffering significant losses before achieving victory," President Shinra said, stroking his mustache in thought. "That would lead to a significant reduction in power as well as cost a small fortune to replace. Neither are things I would approve of. The question then becomes how to acquire this young man at minimal risk to us."

"Gya haa haa! I can have a team of specialists prepped within the next forty-eight hours," Heidegger stated with his annoying laugh. "We can arm them for stealth and the strongest tranquilizers we have will be available for their use. Stick the punk with enough of those and he'll drop like a puppet with its strings cut."

"You'll pardon me for being skeptical but the specimen's regenerative abilities likely also afford it a considerable defense against toxins and sedatives," he pointed out like the superior man he was. "It would be unconscious for at best a few hours before shaking off the effects. However I believe I can devise a new tranquilizer within the two days you specified that will keep it unconscious for at least eight hours before the drug will need to be administered again."

"If we acquire this young man, it may spark pursuit by the Wutai military," Scarlet said, still not willing to approve the mission just yet. "It is unlikely that someone so 'remarkable' could live in the capitol city and not be noticed by them. While they are fools not to secure the teenager for themselves, they will not stand by and allow anyone to make off with him to possible be turned against them."

"Shinra has ways of ensuring that pursuit becomes futile, Scarlet," President Shinra said with a smile of decisiveness. "Prepare your operatives, Heidegger. Choose the best and make them understand the importance of this mission. Ensure that a type F load out is sent with them. As for you, Hojo, the labs are at your disposal. Have your new tranquilizer ready by the time the operatives are ready for departure."

"Of course, President Shinra," he said with a smile that never failed to invoke fear in others.

Already his mind was aflutter with the tests he'd perform on the new specimen and how he could apply what he would discover to his other projects. As he left to prepare a suitably potent tranquilizer, he suspected that there might be even more amazing things to be learned from his future specimen than was made evident in the video footage. He couldn't help but chuckle at what awaited him and so he would do his part, hoping that the laughing horse's men wouldn't bungle things up.

He would be most put out if they did manage to fail in their assigned task.

The Princess Bar in Wutai

Three Days Later

Xander's POV

I hope Sayuri and Daisuke are enjoying their all-expenses paid 'vacation', he thought as he watched the evening crowd of bar patrons finish up their last round of the night. 'Cause I don't know if I can handle this for too much longer.

Indeed, while he had managed on his own in the beginning, the flow of customers had been relatively low then. Now, though, the total number of people that dropped coin at his bar had more than quadrupled so at the moment he was VERY busy, with less than a minute at a time to take a breath. Still, he'd managed to keep the orders straight and served them with polite professionalism, so things were going reasonably well. None of the troublemakers had shown up in the last three days and he'd received his latest shipment of alcohol without incident.

He wanted to take things at face value.

He wanted to believe that he could let his guard down.

But his trained instincts told him that at best he was experiencing the calm before the storm so he had to keep an eye out for any portents or signs of what'd come gunning for him next. The sooner he got an idea of what'd be coming his way, the quicker he could prepare to overcome whatever tried to gut him next.

He just hoped that whatever the new crisis was he wouldn't have to face it solo, 'cause while he'd managed against thirty assassins, it hadn't been fun.

It'd been terrible trying to keep going despite all the bombs, lightning and fire they'd sent his way in an effort to kill him, but he'd known that if he didn't keep moving it'd only get worse. Wolverine wasn't invulnerable and, even if killing him was beyond the ability of the assassins, the pain he'd be put through as a result of their attempts was not something a sane person volunteered for. If something or someone stronger than the assassins came gunning for him, he had little doubt that he would fall. Assassins, by trade, preferred to kill their targets in as few moves as possible, ideally in one stroke, so they weren't suitable for long-term battles or conflicts where the element of surprise had been lost. His fights back in Sunnydale had always been more direct in nature but no less reliant on finishing the job as quickly as possible. It'd been made clear to him with the first few vamp fights he'd had that if he didn't plunge the wooden stake in quickly, he'd wind up getting his ass kicked.

If someone more adept at direct assaults and combat came for him, he'd be completely at their mercy with only their own complacency to give him any hope.

That was why foreknowledge of what might be coming for him was so valuable: if he had info far enough in advance, he could either set up a plan to maximize his odds of victory or flee before trouble arrived.

Given the fact that he hadn't known how much time he'd have he had come up with an excuse to get his two employees out of the capitol for a period of two weeks. He'd wanted to do more, to make their vacation last a month or more, so that they'd be safe from danger, but he'd known that they'd clue into what he was trying if he stated he'd spend that much money on them. The bar might be doing well but they had a good grasp of how well off it was financially, so they'd only have gotten suspicious if he'd committed a considerable amount of gil to their vacation. Thus he would have to accept the two week limit on the vacation and hope that the trouble with his name on it didn't waste any time rearing its ugly head.

If it showed up after their return… he would do whatever he had to in order to make sure that he was the only one to deal with the danger. Whether that meant surrendering to whoever had a bone to pick with him or committing suicide to eliminate the need for violence he didn't know but he'd cross that bridge when he came to it.

Hearing the bell he'd hung over the door ring announcing new arrivals, he looked up to watch a man and woman enter. They were dressed in casual clothes but not local ones and they definitely weren't of the Asian persuasion like the people of Wutai. However this wasn't what had his attention because, while not common, the island nation did occasionally have visitors from overseas, ranging from tourists to merchants. No, what had him keeping an eye on the duo was the way they carried themselves and how physically fit they appeared to be from what he could see.

They'd been in combat and they didn't consider Wutai to be friendly territory at the moment.

This didn't bode well because Wutai pretty much kept to itself and, in all the time he'd lived there, he'd never heard of them creating bad blood with a foreign power. To consider it enemy territory could only mean that the duo were planning on causing some trouble that'd potentially bring much of the nation down on their heads.

Wait a minute! Maybe I'm overthinking things, he thought, not wanting to believe the worst case scenario. Maybe it's not all of Wutai they're planning on mixing it up with. Maybe it's just me. This is my bar, after all.

While this wasn't necessarily a good thing, it did downgrade the threat from national to just personal, making it decidedly easier to deal with.

Nevertheless, he needed to find out what they had in mind and where the action was going to happen so, picking up two bottles of the most popular booze he had, he trotted over to the table the duo had claimed.

"Welcome to The Princess Bar. My name's Xander, I'm the owner and manager of the place, and since you don't seem to be locals I suggest you start off your night with something like this," he said as he set a bottle in front of each of them. "It's one of my top sellers and bar policy says for first timers everything's thirty percent off. Just for the first night, of course. I'd go bankrupt if I let it go any longer."

"Thanks," the man said with a nod of acknowledgment.

The guy had about as much personality as a brick wall.

Hopefully he wouldn't hit as hard as one.

Taking a brief sniff, he could he immediately picked up on gunpowder and an oil used for the upkeep of firearms, likely meaning either one of them had a gun on them or had recently handled one. His mind could come up with a few innocent possible reasons for the strangers to have handled a gun but they were outnumbered by the shady reasons popping like popcorn in his brain. A firefight would put the rest of the bar patrons in harm's way, which meant he needed to get them out of the bar but in a way that wouldn't raise any alarms with the two newcomers.

"No problem! Now take a look through the menu to see if you'd like anything to eat with your drinks," he said, doing a decent job at making it look like he suspected nothing. "I'll be back in five minutes to take your orders if you find something you like."

With that he trotted behind the bar and then passed through the door to the kitchen, leaving the line of sight of anyone in the main area of the bar. Once he was sure he was far enough away that even his footsteps couldn't be heard he began to put together the ingredients of his off the cuff plan to remove civilians from the line of fire. He couldn't just go to every table but the one the newcomers were sitting at and quietly whisper 'leave' since that'd be a little too suspicious if the man and woman really were up to no good. Leaving the bar wouldn't work out too well either since they'd either wait for him to return or seize everything he owned, leaving him with nothing to work with and likely catch up to him later.

Instead he'd try something a little more theatrical.

Gotta make sure this'll be all smoke and no fire, he thought as he poured the ingredients into the sturdiest pot he owned. Be a real pain in the ass if I accidentally burned my own bar down.

When he was finished he lit a match and tossed it into the pot and, after a momentary flare of flame, smoke began to billow out, spreading further with every passing second. Knocking over some pots to support the deception he ran out of the kitchen into the main area a few minutes later, a look of controlled panic on his face.

"EVERYONE OUT NOW!" he exclaimed to get everyone's attention. "The kitchen's caught on fire and spreading fast! I'm gonna try to get it under control but for your own safety please exit the building in a calm but quick manner."

He was relieved to see the people following his instructions, including the newcomers, but as he'd anticipated they were sending looks of consideration his way. No doubt they were trying to determine whether or not there really was a fire or not, as well as if they should remain behind just in case it turned out to be the latter. Not feeling particularly like sticking around to find out what the man and woman determined he went back into the kitchen, trying not to let his enhanced senses get overwhelmed by the smoke. He made some more noise to make it sound like he was doing everything he could to put out the 'fire' but, when he judged the theatrics to be enough, he put a lid on the pot to deprive the contents of oxygen. Then, in order to get things happening on HIS timetable, he moved over to the kitchen window, opening it quietly until it was wide enough for him to slip through. If things went according to plan the dumb duo would catch on that the fire was a fraud and likely do a quick search of the building as well as the immediate area for him.

THAT would be when he'd turn the hunters into the hunted, trailing behind them wherever they went until they reached their base of operations.

Once there he'd either confront them directly in order to find out who they really were and what they wanted or he'd just stake the place out keeping an eye on them from a distance. Depending on what he found he might decide to go to ground until they lost interest in him or go in claws a slashing to put an end to their threat once and for all.

Slipping through the window, he made it all of three steps before his senses picked up something that had him freezing in his tracks.

The duo hadn't come alone.

Taking deep sniffs this time he managed to pierce through the stink of the smoke he'd just been submerged in and detected tools of war. Guns, grenades and other things that he knew didn't belong on any civilian. To make it worse he was smelling it coming from multiple sources, six to be precise, and they had him surrounded in a crescent moon wall going from left to right. Had the two in the bar just been meant to herd him in this direction? Had this group just been covering its bases by guarding the rear of his bar in case he tried to make a run for it? Either way it looked like he had to make a decision because they were beginning to move in and, if he waited too long, the only way he'd get away from them would be if he fought his way through them.

Going with his instincts he charged forward like a football player, determined to deke and dodge past the opposition to run all the way to the end zone for a touchdown. The enemy line was still spread thin enough that, if he was quick enough, he could make it through the gap in between escaping both capture as well as a way to avoid fighting. Just because he could fight and stood a chance of winning didn't mean he was some fight fanatic who loved mixing it up with whoever gave him an excuse to throw down. Until he knew what he was dealing with it'd be better to escape so he could come back and deal with them on his terms rather than the enemy's.

He got down his first length or so of alley before he saw the first of them and, despite the concealing coat the man wore, he could see the military gear beneath it as well as the odd looking gun that was beginning to be directed towards him. The clothes, the weapon, it all made him draw one very undesirable conclusion: Shinra. The outfit and the weapon weren't anything like those worn by the warriors of Wutai, whether they were soldiers or bandits, so they weren't local. That meant that they came from someplace else and he didn't know of any other power on the planet he was on that had its own military.

For some reason they'd singled him out.

Depending on how much they'd learned about him, things could be VERY bad.

Looks like going to ground it is, he thought as he picked up the pace, determined to get to the enemy before a shot could be fired.

As he closed to within ten feet he brought a fist back and prepared to deliver it to the jaw of his foe.

As he got to within five feet he felt confident that his blow would land before the barrel of the gun could be positioned properly to get a shot off at him.

Too bad when he got to within three feet someone intervened.

One prick.

Then two more pricks.

Then before he could even think to wonder about the cause the world seemed to fall away from him, casting him into a black abyss, until he could only barely perceive a light. The light was all he could perceive of the outside world, none of his other senses could reach that far, but it was enough to see one dark shape appear at the edges of the light after another.

"Amateur," a distant voice spoke as though it was at the edge of his hearing range and thus barely perceivable. "Only thought about the threats he could sense instead of the one he couldn't."

"Maybe but you heard Gya haa haa," another voice said with a tone of authority. "He's a top priority target to be treated as extremely dangerous. Get the restraints on him and put him in the van. Our window of escape is a narrow one, even with the help of our mysterious benefactor."

"Understood, sir," the first voice said before the group of shapes began to move some towards him and others out of the light.

He fought, tried to will himself back to the light where he could do something, but whatever had cast him into the deep pit he was now in it was DAMN potent stuff. Willpower had no effect over it and that meant he had no choice but to wait until it wore off before he could take action.

"Lights out, buddy," one of shapes said before a jarring shock caused the light to disperse like smoke in the wind.

Then he knew nothing.