I need to satisfy my fans

Kenji

We were carried to a large, forty-story building near the edge of the city. When we entered, the lobby was almost completely empty, except for a single blonde girl who was facing away from us. She strangely had a gravity effect on Mitchell, because he started walking in her direction. I had to hold him by the arm, and whispered in his ear, "Don't."

She turned her head to where I could see her head and not just her hair, and I saw that she wasn't as human as I assumed. She was a Ninetales girl aged about sixteen, which means she was approximately two years older than I was. Her nine tails were probably hidden behind the other seats.

I released my grasp on Mitchell and watched him fall on his face, making sure I didn't arise suspicions. I didn't want anybody thinking I'd just hurt the innocent for no good reason.

Ehh, I think I should stop caring about what others say.

She rose. I saw she had on a white sweater and a purple skirt that went to her knees, attached to a black leather belt. Then I looked at Patrick's basic black t-shirt and shorts, then to Diana's loose-fitting long sleeved shirt and her silver-colored pants. She started for the elevator, which was the same place we were headed for.

Well, that's about five minutes of small talk and Mitchell's babbling as we climbed up on the elevator, watching the skyline sink. Oh - and some familiar-looking shadowy guy in the elevator who got on at about floor five, accompanied by a Charizard. I recall seeing him on TV some time ago, once two years back, watching the Kanto League Championships, the next being only ten days ago, on the news. He had survived a massacre started by a man named Kendall Klein, as they said, but I believed it was really James Moldox's psychotic son Joseph Moldox, who was like his father, but thirty years younger(that being age nineteen), ten times crazier, and about as well-liked to the general public. He probably bribed the media to not tarnish his name.

Red was his name. We didn't check which floor he left at, but I still felt a presence unknown.

The top floor didn't have anything but some kind of boardroom and a few offices, so we were to go to floor thirty-nine. I showed Ryaku the room number, but I'm pretty sure he misread it, because I could clearly hear battle screams coming from the door.

No, that's 3900. We need 3910.

3910 was right across the hall. Great, I had to put up with those insane cries while we were here.

Ehh, maybe it's just a couple of pubescent teenage boys playing Halo or something.

We were told to be careful, because floors one through thirty-nine were completely public and rooms were available to anyone. So we expected about one-tenth of the people there to be with the Moldox ideology, who our "friend" called "pokehaters." Unfortunately, we were instructed not to kill anyone while we were there, except in a drastic measure of self-defense. Like that's going to happen, I thought to myself. But I kept my mouth shut and held my hatred down.

The Ninetales girl said her name was Irene, and was currently staying at room 3927. Mitchell babbled something along the lines of "Aseh kebai." I twisted his ear to try to get him into line. He quickly responded by trying to karate-chop my arm.

I grabbed that arm with my other arm. "What's up with you, Mitch?"

He sighed. "Irene just gives me that twisty feeling in my stomach."

"You mean… you like her?"

"I dunno…"

"Why don't you go talk with her. You know, friendly banter? I hear that's the first step to romance."

"I… just don't think she'd be interested in a guy like me."

"Aw, don't be so hard on yourself. What could possibly go wrong?"

"Well, seeing she's a morph, and I'm full-blown human… She could have some kind of… discomfort around people like me."

"She seemed friendly enough."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, man. Just… wait till tomorrow. It's 9 PM."

When we woke up the next day, I smelt something burning.

Something was burning.

It was the room. Someone else at our doorstep trying an attempt on our life.

I woke up the others and informed them of the smoke I detected, and looked through the window. I saw a guy holding a flamethrower, bathing the place in flames. About seventy people were behind him. I opened the window, and heard shouting. All of them were cheering the guy on.

What's he up to?

I hopped out of the window, into a blitz of heat from the fire, and then onto the ground. The pyro started trying to burn me down to an ash, but I was too quick for that sorry bastard.

I managed to get a safe distance away from the fire trail, and lunged. He blocked with a red-hot knife. I tried spitting on it in the midst of the struggle, to cool it down a bit, rendering it a bit less lethal. I saw the fluid boil on the surface of the steel.

He tried stabbing at me, but I ducked. I could smell my own burning hair as it went right above my cranium. I tripped him, then swiftly moved to the left. I saw the crowd scatter, as a few small pillars of fire erupt a few feet away. Must be a busted gas pipe or something.

I decided to use them to an advantage. I kicked the guy, causing him to fall backward.

His posterior landed right on top of the newest flame, causing to run home yelping to Mommy.

I picked up the knife he had dropped. I assumed it was made from iron, but then it got its heat from a coal fire… that makes steel.

I dumped "Promise" somewhere inconspicuous, and saw people pour out of the building, as a fire department tried to extinguish the fire.

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