"GOOD MORNING, JOBEN. SLEEP WELL?" the text-to-speech inquired in its creepy perfect monotone. Accompanied by the first sickeningly sweet smile of the day.
He only barely suppressed the shudder.
"Uh… Yes, Knight, thank you for asking," he nodded, taking place to the side of the Pokemon.
It was almost sunrise. The Gallade always emerged out of his abode just before sunrise, and went to sleep soon after sunset, which probably made sense from a diurnal non-human's perspective. Either way, it was up to Joben to accompany it- damn, accompany HIM through the entire time. Some sort of a screwed up secretary butler, listening, explaining anything Knight did not understand, holding a conversation if required, doing whatever the he asked, and making damn sure not to piss him off. It would've been a perfectly cushy job, if it did not come with tremendous stress, and a likely lethal severance package.
They were at the entrance to the little village Team Brute was occupying, overlooking the contingent of a dozen grunts arriving all the way from Satsuma. All were currently bunched together in an uneven, disorganised crowd around one of the Team officers, listening to essential info. Hardly more than a mob of, well, brutes.
"IS THIS THE LAST OF THEM?"
"Yeah. The rest went to the ground"
"THEY'LL COME AROUND SOON ENOUGH" the Knight shrugged, clearly not caring for the fact they only had around 300 muscleheads who spent too much time training themselves and their Pokemon, and not enough time learning tactics and strategy, "WE WILL BE ABLE TO EXPEDITE OUR EFFORTS FROM NOW ON"
Yeah, their efforts of getting themselves killed.
The Knight had this bright idea of using his army to conquer first the islands, and then the world. To literally supplant the League all over the globe in a couple of months. And sure, he did have an army - that prissy prick Suwa Shiro was little more than a figurehead, and Gallade effectively commanded Team Brute as he saw fit. Except, this army had no coordination, no intelligence to speak of, and was outnumbered ten to one by similarly powered League trainers on the North on the Honshu island alone.
Even sending them all to take control of Nagoya was bound to lose them one third of their people in the best case scenario, and Joben did not believe in best case scenarios.
"Uhh… I've been thinking…"
"YES, WHAT IS IT, JOBEN?" the Knight turned to him, smiling. Damn, he was getting cold feet, "I ALREADY TOLD YOU, IF SOMETHING BOTHERS YOU, TO SPEAK UP FREELY"
Yeah, he did. And Joben did not believe for a second that he would not be disposed of if he angered his 'employer' somehow. Still, with the way things were going, they were bound to die in a couple of weeks at best. If he could prolong it even by a little bit, it might've been worth the risk.
"Some of our guys are ex-military. Maybe-," damn, he could not read what this blasted smile could possibly mean, "Maybe we could have them run our troops through some drills? Prepare them for battle, so when we storm the HQ in Nagoya-"
He was interrupted by a clawed finger gently pressing against his lips. Joben shuddered, looking at that sweet bloody smile with ever growing trepidation. Then, the Knight typed into his text-to-speech again, without taking his eyes off him.
"IT WON'T BE JUST NAGOYA, JOBEN. WE WILL ATTACK LEAGUE BUILDINGS ALL OVER THE ISLANDS SIMULTANEOUSLY. LESS CHANCE FOR THEM TO WISE UP TO WHAT WE ARE DOING. AND WHILE DRILLS MIGHT BE FUN ENOUGH TO GO THROUGH, WE DON'T HAVE MUCH TIME FOR THEM"
With 300 fighters? Yeah, sure, each of them carried a team of powerful, highly trained Pokemon, but so did the League! And once Enforcers were deployed-
"OH, I SEE YOU DON'T HAVE MUCH FAITH IN ME AND MY ARMY. A SHAME, TRULY," at this, the Knight looked to the side, and beckoned one of the guards. As the man approached, Joben could barely hear anything aside from his own heartbeat, drumming frantically into his ears. Then, that creepy monotone said the one thing he hoped it wouldn't, "YOU. TAKE YOUR GUN, AND SHOOT JOBEN IN THE HEAD"
No.
Please, no.
He was just- He was just trying to save their asses!
Why?!
He tried to move - but his legs refused to work. His arms refused to work either. Joben could only watch in sheer terror, as the man raised his assault rifle, aimed at him, and pulled the trigger.
Something poked him in the forehead, then he heard a loud snap. Then twice more. Then, his legs decided to stop supporting his weight for some reason, and he fell into the snow, eyes bleary.
Damn it all.
Damn.
At least…
At least it did not hurt much. He thought it'd be much more painful. Or maybe it was only going to be. Any moment, before the final curtain.
"HOW DO YOU FEEL, JOBEN?"
How did he feel?! HOW DID HE FEEL?! He was dying, you bloody monster! But hey, at least he knew to save a seat for the rest of these assholes in Hell, since they were going to be there in a couple of-
Wait.
This did not make any sense.
He tried to raise an arm. Huh. That's weird, he actually managed to do so. And not in slow motion either.
Confused, he gingerly brought his fingers to his forehead, to check one of the entry wounds - except, his fingers nudged at some protruding piece of metal in the exact place he felt the first poke. Grabbing at it, he brought the thing to his eyes, and-
A bullet. It was a bullet. A crumpled bullet. Some sort of a dud?
He pushed his body into a sitting position, two more pieces of metal popping out of his cheek and temple. In front of him, stood the smiling Knight, and the guard. The latter's eyes were nearly wide enough to pop out of his sockets.
"YOU SEEM TO BE ALRIGHT"
"How-"
"COME ON, JOBEN, NO NEED TO SIT ON THE GROUND," Gallade smiled. He shakily nodded and stood up, noting that his 'employer's' arm was now resting on the guard's shoulder, "NOW, LET'S KEEP THINGS FAIR. HE SHOT YOU, AFTER ALL. PUNCH THIS GUARD"
The command startled Joben, as well as the guard in question. The man eyed the Knight, but stood in place, hands off the assault rifle. He likely knew better. Was probably there when Gallade took over the Team.
"PUNCH HIM IN THE FACE"
Not exactly sure what was his 'employer's' play here, Joben approached the man, and swung at his nose.
Now, let it not be said that Joben did not know how to throw a punch. If you spent enough time among people who loved to brawl almost as much as they loved free booze and going to the gym, you probably threw enough punches to be able to knock an average John Doe on his ass. This guard was not an average John Doe, but if the Knight was going to allow Joben to vent his frustrations through breaking someone's nose, he was not going to say 'no'. Even if the guard was little more than an accessory to these frustrations. Mostly because you did not say 'no' to the Gallade.
Except, Joben did not break a nose.
The moment his fist connected with guard's face, the man was sent back into an unlit, concrete lamp post ten meters away, broke THROUGH it - sending chunks of reinforced concrete in three different directions, one barely avoiding clipping one of the Satsuma grunts - and then skidded across the ground for twenty more meters, before crashing into a supply crate and coming to a halt.
What.
WHAT.
How did-
what.
"GOOD," Knight commented, looking at the guard, who instead of lying in a heap of broken bones, slowly stood up from the remains of the crate, looking about as confused as Joben felt.
"What just-" he looked at the guard, then at his fist, "Did I do that?.."
"THAT, YOU DID," the knight smiled, "NOW, HERE'S A PURELY THEORETICAL QUESTION FOR YOU, JOBEN. IMAGINE IF WE HAD 300 WARRIORS. AND BY PURE CHANCE, EACH OF THEM WAS BULLETPROOF, ABLE TO LEAP OVER A TALL BUILDING, AND MORE POWERFUL THAN A LOCOMOTIVE. IN THIS COMPLETELY THEORETICAL SITUATION, WOULD WE STAND A CHANCE AGAINST THE LEAGUE?"
Joben looked down on his own fist, and then back at the guard, who was already making his way back to them, only looking slightly pissed, and little worse for wear.
"You know… We just might"