It was a strange feeling, hopping through the sky. If the situation wasn't so dire, and their mission less critical, Josuke might have been better able to enjoy the new experience of semi-flight. As it was, however, they were quickly gaining on the great white yacht where Coco and the kids were being held, the Zan-Mari, if he was reading the name on the stern correctly. There was only one problem.

"Coco's cloth is pointing toward the other boat," Josuke called out. "What do you make of that?"

"I don't like it," Sen replied. "This whole thing feels fishy. There's no way he chose to put sis in that rusty-looking dump when he could have her all to himself in that floating palace. Something else is at play. My gut says she's in the Mari."

Josuke mulled over her words. Abelnite ladies were known for their accurate hunches, and it was a well-thought-out observation. "We don't have time to waste choosing. If you think she's in the yacht, then that's-"

"Let's split up," Sen yelled through the wind.

"…WHAT?!"

"This whole thing makes me feel itchy. Put me on the yacht, and I'll figure out where she's being held."

"The last thing I'm going to do is split us up!"

"We don't have a choice. The cloth says she's on the junker. My gut says she's in the Mari. Jojo, what if they were split up?"

Josuke's heart dropped. "God damn it."

"We don't have the luxury of playing detectives, Josuke. Put me on the Mari, and you check out that hunk of rusted metal."

"There's no way that fancy boat is less guarded than the other. Maybe we should stick together until-"

"They what? See us on one, then kill their hostages on the other? Don't be a dumbass, Nest-for-brains. They have walkie-talkies."

"But-"

"Splitting up is the best plan and you know it. I'm small and they won't notice me. If they do,"

Josuke heard a crackle of electricity above his shoulders.

"they'll wish they hadn't." Sen finished. "Besides," Josuke felt something wrap around his neck. "with this, you'll be able to find me as soon as you're done."

It was a necklace made of a leather strap and a pink rabbit's foot, hastily put together. No, not a rabbit's foot Josuke thought, but a thick lock of Sen's dark azalea hair. "Sen, when did you-"

"When we were in the car, stupid! Someone has to do the thinking for you! Now, let's go save my sister!"

She was right. Josuke had to stop underestimating her. As much as he wanted to see her as the tomboyish scamp he had always known, he had to admit she was far more resilient, and dependable than he gave her credit for.

"Fine," he said resigned. "But you be careful. I'll be in and out as soon as I get to the bottom of whatever is going on with the cargo ship. Until then…survive."

"Right!"

Josuke slowly hopped down from the sky, C.D's invisible palms acting as solid platforms for his steady descent toward the back of the yacht's port side. At the same time, he also cleared his mind, trying to recreate that same sensation of non-existence that had allowed him to sneak up on the gangsters at Junkanyon. The technique called Zetsu.

When they were close enough to the side of the vessel he felt Sen's body shuffle on his back before she unceremoniously jumped the ten feet necessary to touch the white steel hide of the pleasure cruiser. Normally, this might have panicked him, but even she wasn't foolish enough to throw herself to her death.

*Thunk!*

Josuke raised an eyebrow at Sen as he watched her splayed body stick to the side of the ship's hull. With some effort, she regained her bearings before turning toward him.

x.X.x

Sen gave Josuke a thumbs up, before mouthing the words "electromagnetism," to the dufus. It wouldn't do to alert anyone onboard after all. He returned her gesture with a firm nod before hopping off toward the smaller ship. Now it was time for her to do her job.

It was a small switch in both boots and gloves that magnetized her [Wundergear], a set of experimental tools she had created long ago comprised of said boots, gloves, a satchel, and the goggled headphones she now wore. Adjusting a hidden dial, the magnetism weakened enough that she was able to ascend the side of the yacht with relatively little effort.

Having scoped the ship while flying on Josuke's back (Sen was still processing that), she had noticed no less than three guards, all heavily armed, walking the deck. It was pathetic security for a ship of this size, meaning they had likely split the guards between their vessels. If one considered all the Staymos men that had been beaten at Junkanyon, it wouldn't have been a stretch to think both ships were likely being manned by skeleton crews. Not that that was a reason for her to let down her guard. They still had guns after all.

Luckily the deck was large and as Sen brought herself over the gunwale, she observed that there were no gangsters in her immediate vicinity.

But where do I find you, sis? She thought to herself. Spotting a door, in dawned on Sen that inside would probably be the best start. Slowly, cautiously, she made her way to the hatch. Was mere inches from its latch when…it swung open.

"You hear something, Brass?" a bald-headed man said exiting the door. By sheer luck, Sen made it next to the entrance as it opened, its front stopping mere inches from her face as she held herself against the wall.

"Pfff. You going stir crazy or what?" his scar-faced comrade said following him out the door. "Think this guy's just gonna fall out of the sky or what?"

"You weren't there when the call came in, Brass. We could hear Quill spitting up blood from the other end of the phone. Said they'd all been taken out to a man. Over twenty of our guys, gone. Said they blew him off the Canyon and he was just…Swoosh! Back up. Didn't even notice when he appeared, like some kind of goddamn ghost. Fucking freak."

"I hear ya. I swear every time we sail back to that shithole there are more and more these weirdos…"

Sen stood stone-still as they closed the hatch and continued to talk facing away from her. Goddamnit Goddamit Goddamit!

"Wonder how the boss is gonna explain this to the Don though? Losing thirty men just to get his dick wet, sheesh!" Brass said with a laugh.

"I know," the bald one added. "But I doubt he'll be replaced. The Don knows tha-, oh shit! You got a light on you?" He said pulling a cigarette from his suit pocket. "Think I forgot mine in the rec room."

"Fraid not,"

"Fucking-A. Wait here while I-," but Baldy didn't finish his sentence as he turned around. He was too stunned by the sight of the stowaway in from of his eyes.

He stared at her as she returned his disbelieving gaze. He blinked like he couldn't believe some chibi welder was in front of his eyes. But it didn't change the fact that she was right there, right now.

"Who-," he tried to say but failed as Sen raised both gloves bending her ring fingers in a fraction of a second. The switches in those sections of her gloves launched hidden hooked wires into Baldy's chest, and Scarface's back, sending 2,500 volts of electrical current into Muska's henchmen. Barely below a lethal dose, but more than enough to knock both out.

"God-," dammit, Sen thinks, barely restraining herself from giving away her position. Why why why! Fully alert, she activates another switch to retract her wires.

Were the bodies falling prone on the deck too loud? Were there guards coming toward her that instant?

Sen readied herself for a fight, but thankfully that became unnecessary as no one came toward her. Her heart calmed, but only just. Now she had to deal with the liabilities that were the two bodies in front of her.

She could bring them inside, but she wasn't confident they wouldn't be found and didn't have any notion of a safe place to store them. If she simply left, one of the guards would find them sooner or later, alerting the ship to the fact that someone had infiltrated the yacht.

Or, Sen thought looking out to the great blue sea. They can take their chances with the fishes. While Sen didn't know the two personally, they gave off the vibe that they likely had done more than enough in their depraved lives to deserve it. Plus, it wasn't like she was killing them. They might float.

As Sen grabbed onto Baldy's arm and began to drag him toward the rails, she took special care to be aware of any armed guards that might have been close. Coast clear, she began her grim work, shoving the man under the stainless steel bars, then watching as his body plopped into the water. She was lucky this ship was so damn big as the splash was barely audible, the ripple hardly visible.

One down, one more to go, she thought darkly. I hope your job is going smoother than mine, Cabbage-head…

x.X.x

It wasn't terrible, though the situation certainly wasn't good. Using Zetsu allowed Josuke to go about the disheveled storage vessel relatively unnoticed, but what was striking was how minimally staffed the ship was, almost like they didn't want people on the boat.

He had noticed a few suited men with automatic rifles, perhaps two on deck, but had slipped by them with no effort. The only thing keeping him from laying them out was the threat that if someone did see him, or if their presence was noticed missing, it could spell disaster for either Coco or the children.

It was that same fear that kept him from using Crazy Diamond to punch through several layers of rusted steel that blocked off the direction Coco's skirt-cloth was pulling toward. Down.

It was a funny thing, C.D's restoration. At times under the open sky, such as when he had gone off to rescue Sen, the material he was using to follow a trail would optimize a route best used to get from point A to point B, zigzagging through heaps of junk or whatever obstacle hindered his path.

Here, in a closed ship with likely no open path toward his goal, his power seemed to be telling him that the best path forward was to brute force his way to the hostages, almost like it had a mind of its own. Recalling Crazy Diamond's episode of autonomy at the pier, Josuke realized such a theory might not have been far off.

Tsk! I don't have time for this. This place ain't that big, he thought to himself. If I look around, I should find something that'll point me down.

Josuke wasted no time running from one hall to the next, left, then right, but there were no obvious stairs, no signage or schematics that pointed him in a downward direction. He was so enraptured in his goal, that he forgot to mask his presence, not caring at all that his steps became louder as a result of his negligence.

"Oi, Kam, is'at you running?" A voice said stopping Josuke in his tracks.

It came from a metal hatch that had just opened in front of him, the sound of flushing mixing with the rusty squeak of the door's hinges. From the apparent bathroom stepped a portly fellow with curly hair, hands still in the process of zipping his fly, automatic rife strapped to his chest.

"S'there a fire? Or did the….." The man's words trailed off as his eyes met Josuke's. One second passing, then another. "H-HELMmmmmmm-Mmmm-Mmmm!" The man tried to scream, but was two seconds too late as Crazy Diamond's enormous hand wrapped around his chubby mouth and cheeks, lifting him 6 feet into the air.

For half a minute, Josuke considered simply ending the man, then realized that that would be a waste considering his immediate predicament. "Hey you," he began with faux calm. "You must know the way down. Is Coco here, are the kids?"

"Mmm-mmm," Curly said in muffled screams before Josuke adjusted C.D's hold on the man's mouth. "Y-Y-Your O-One of those f-freaks, aren't you?"

"What?"

"T-They say people in t-that God-forsaken city can do crazy shit. Make people explode, or stick them to poles so they have to cut off their own arms and shit. Y-Your one of them aren't you? The one who killed Tom and the others!"

"Maybe I am," Josuke replied dryly, "but that's neither here nor there. Now, I asked you a question didn't I?" To emphasize his point, C.D. placed its free hand around the man's neck and slowly began to squeeze. Invisible fingers slowly but surely digging into the prisoner's throat.

"Yesth! Yeth!" the bloated man tried to call out, "The thildren. They'a down bewo!"

"Coco, what about Coco?!" Josuke snapped.

"W-With da…boff. Pleath…I…I can't…"

As per its master's will, Crazy Diamond loosened its vice grip on the man's windpipe.

"*Huff* *Huff*, I-I can help you," the man says, now able to stretch his lungs.

"Just tell me where the children are or so help me I'll-"

"I-In the engine room, with two others," the man quickly replied, panicked. "L-Let me help you. Y-you n-need me!"

"Just point me down and I promise I'll knock you out fast, you piece of-,"

"NO!" The man screamed in horror. "You'll kill us all!"

"Come again?"

"The kids are down in the engine room, surrounded by a shit-ton of C4!"

Josuke's body and soul went frigid at the revelation. Why? Why on God's green Earth would they do something like this to children? Harmless students no less.

Perhaps sensing Josuke's incoming anger, the chubby gangster continued to talk. "I-It was the dame, you see! She was getting all uppity, and the boss wanted to teach her a lesson. Said if she acted out of line, he'd blow this ship up with the kids in it and make her watch. That's why there's so few of us manning it. We're all expendable! But if you just go in swinging willy-nilly, someone stupid is bound to com the wrong guy without thinking, and boom…you, me, the kids…we're all dead.

But…but I can help you." The man continued, almost crazed. "I-I know where they are, a-and can help you take out the guards! Yeah! A-And the lifeboat! I know where it is! If we go now, we can take it and leave these idiots behinAkkkk-"

The man began to gasp as Crazy Diamond's chiseled blue fingers began to once again constrict his neck. He had almost said too much. Josuke sent an icy look into his eyes, words unspoken, but message clear; Be quiet.

The gangster visibly began to sweat, his body understanding on a primal level that there was no way he could survive the young man or the invisible force that held him. And so, he stayed still, hoping beyond hope that Josuke would prove merciful, or at least give him time to jump ship.

x.X.x

Coco held her arms around Leez as the two sat on the satin couch, her student between her legs as if to shield the small girl from the dangers around her. They had long been ushered into Muska's private cabin, a room in the middle of the yacht that was well-decorated and cold. Air conditioning was a luxury neither she nor most Meteorites, from any district, often enjoyed. The furnishings were grandiose, and the paintings, books, and screens that adorned each wall spoke to Muska's taste for expensive luxuries, as well as the need for control.

His need to manipulate his surroundings, the things he saw from afar, and now, her. Especially her.

"You seem down, are you feeling all right?" The green-haired man said, his foxing grin, again, not quite touching his eyes.

She wanted to spit in his face, and declare that his time would soon be numbered, then thought better of it. Her children, those whose lives depended on her, those who weren't in her arms…they had to come before her pride.

"I'm feeling fine, Muska." She had no pleasantries to add, no compliments to feign.

He scowled at her, angry, but was unwilling to punish, at least not for her minimalist answer.

"You know," he continued, "I've won. We're more than forty miles from the shore, look out from the top deck and you'd barely even see that dump. Your boyfriend isn't coming for you…no one is coming for you."

Coco remained silent. Only staring at him with a gaze full of pity, disappointment, and perhaps more than a little disgust.

"Tsk! Hansome guy like that'll forget you in a week, don't you think?" he said, pouring himself a small glass of auburn liquid. He took a sip, then another…then threw the fragile cup at her, the glass exploding next to her head. "Say something!" he screamed, breaking the poise he tried so hard to maintain.

Coco didn't give him the satisfaction of an answer. Instead choosing to cradle Leez as the terrified girl buried herself into her bosom.

He stomped over to his desk, taking out a small red box. As he opened it, he made no effort to hide what was inside the container, long ornate golden bullets.

Using a white latex glove, he took each piece of ammunition and carefully placed six pieces into the six slots in the cylinder of his revolver. The same one he had used to terrorize the children and nearly kill Moss not even an hour ago.

Wordlessly, Coco began to squeeze Leez into her chest, as if the act could prevent Muska from actually following through with his lethal intentions. It was a hollow gesture, but one that brought both she and Leez some small measure of comfort.

"Blue-35," he said low and sinister. "Sweet-Dream. A poison derived from cyanide and White Powder. Messes with your mind while it slowly kills you. They say it puts you into the best sleep of your life, but who can say? No one ever wakes up."

He rose from his desk and slowly walked to stand in front of Coco before pointing his revolver at her temple, his thumb resting on but not quite pulling back on the hammer.

"Why Coco! You've lost, damnit! You'll never have to live in that filth place again! Why are you…why are you still against me? I've loved you. Since we were children, I've loved you, yearned for you. I went out into the world to make something of myself, with what little I had…all for you. And yet you…yet you spit on me! What do you see in that boy? What…What did they have that I don't !" Muska yelled, heart and anger diffusing through his voice.

It was his final sentence that Coco noticed and focused on. What didtheyhave…, not just Josuke, but…Mikkelo. A dark suspicion she might have had long ago, but buried deep in her heart resurfaced. The thought, the idea that it was Muska that had…

"Was it you?" Coco said, attempting to keep her voice calm.

The question seemed to come out of left field for Muska, who stared at her confused.

"Was it you…who killed Mikkelo?" Yet even as she asked the question, Coco couldn't help but feel she already knew the answer as she watched Muska stumble back as if struck.

"You…," He said, voice almost crazed, "You yoU YoU you yOu YOu YOU! This is all…because of YOU! Wiskey, Scotch, get in here!"

Coco immediately brought Leez into her body, wrapping her hands around the girl, placing her chin on her student's small head, wishing she could shield her from all that was about to happen.

But as she watched Muska's right and left-hand man enter the cabin, weapons drawn, she knew deep down how things would end. She fought them though, kicking and screaming. Coco had no intention of letting them take the Leez easily.

*Blam!*

And just like that, all of Coco's confidence dissipated as Musk's pistol fired next to her head, leaving a reverberating ringing in her right ear.

"Let her go, Coco," Muska said seething, " Or so help me I'll shoot the girl, and store you in a room with only her corpse for company." "Now!" he added as she hesitated.

Wiskey and Scotch, his henchmen, were far from gentle with Leez as they ripped her from Coco's arms.

"Ms. A! Ms. A! Don't let them take me!" Leez cried out, with tear-filled eyes. Arms outstretched toward her teacher as the huge men walked toward the door, snickering.

"Leez! I'll come for you!" Coco cried out with all her soul. "J-Just wait for me Leez, I'll figure something out! Just wait for me!"

As she attempted to run after her student, Muska pushed her down. She was powerless to do anything but watch as Leez disappeared behind the hatch. The young girl's faint screams from behind the white walls were the last thing Coco heard of her ward before she slumped to her knees, defeated.

"Yes…"Muska finally said, his voice filled with hatred as he stared down at her, "...I did kill Mikkelo…and it's all your fault."

x.X.x

Sen crawled through the air duct, silently praying that she had not memorized the complicated schematics of the yacht's ventilation system incorrectly in her earlier haste. She had lucked out when she found a touch screen built into the hallway that mapped out general directions throughout the ship and had quickly figured out how to use the technology to display a complete outline of the air filtration system. The perfect way to move without being seen.

Sen had what the parish priest of the local church called a photographic memory, or something very close to it. She had never needed much more than a few glances at something to be able to memorize the things she read or saw with almost picture-perfect accuracy. It was part of the reason she was such a savant for repairing and building things.

Of the dozens of display maps that outlined the Yacht's different systems, nothing had actually been labeled 'Bosse's Room' but there had been hints. One blueprint of the ship displayed a prominent room, larger than the rest, with an emergency exit, and power supply, near a kitchen and armory. It was a hunch, but one Sen was willing to stake her life on. That was where Coco was. Coco…and Muska.

Sen's magnetic gloves helped her climb and maneuver herself around some of the more obtusely angled ventways. As she spent the better part of the next twenty minutes climbing through one stainless steel path into another, she could tell she was getting close.

The smell of beef and broccoli wafted into her nose, causing her stomach to rumble. Her internal mapping had been correct, she was in the private kitchen now, something she quietly confirmed as she crawled over a grate.

A tall man, in a stark white cook outfit, was stirring a large pot of brownish stew, the source of the delicious smell. Shamefully, Sen daydreamed about quickly dropping from the vent, knocking the man out, and serving herself a hearty bowl. By now it would have been close to dinner, and Sen was beginning to feel the effects of the lunch her earlier kidnapping had caused her to miss.

Bah! Now isn't the time, Sen berated herself, slapping her cheeks.

If she was right, and Sen was sure she was, Muska and Coco were only a few hallways separated from the kitchen. She was so so close. Slowly, Sen began to crawl away from the aroma making sure to be especially quiet so as not to tip off the man below, when a frightful noise caused her to remain still.

It was a loud cry, one Sen could tell came from a child despite how muffled it was. Clearly, the cook had also heard the racket as he hurried toward the door, only to have it burst open and flood the kitchen with the cries of a familiar little girl.

x.X.x

A'toni Reynardo had been a simple man with a simple life. That was until he had made the mistake of serving the wrong man at the wrong time. The owner of this ship, a scoundrel by the name of Muska had taken a liking to his cooking when he had been on business in A'toni's homeland, the Napolini Republic. So much so that he had kidnapped A'toni from his small family-owned corner restaurant, forcing him into indentured servitude as his personal chef.

It was humiliating, being made to serve at the beck and call of these hooligans. A'toni was only given monetary rewards when he made dishes that were outstanding, jenni he promptly wired to his sister who was now the sole caretaker of their sickly mother. It rankled him to no end, having to serve these…

…These dogs! He thought angrily.

As he stared at the Beef Broccoli he stirred, he couldn't help but angrily wish he could spit in the stew he was preparing. Something his dignity as a chef simply would not allow.

Mother was sick, and likely getting worse. Massima, his sister, was a recovering drug addict he could no longer watch. And he was…here…powerless.

*clink…* *clinkclink* *...clink*

A'toni eyes immediately shot up toward the air duct.

"And no we av zi rats. Ovviamente!"

A few more moments passed as he continued to stir and think about how best to deal with the new rodent problem. His day was going from bad to worse.

First, he had had to take charge of the mess kitchen, forced to cook on a moment's notice for what he would later find out was kidnapped children! Now he had rats. The heavens were punishing him for tolerating this…barbarity.

He was suddenly interrupted of his angered musings by the mixed sounds of rough stomping and a child's wailing. A ruckus that was quickly drawing closer and closer.

A'toni made his way toward the door, only to have the steel hatch unceremoniously burst open, nearly knocking him on his arse.

"Shut yer trap, you little crap!" Wiskey screamed as he stomped into the kitchen, shadowed by Scotch.

They were brutally large men, each easily seven feet of equal parts stupid and muscle.

Acting as Muska's enforcers, the only man they had listened to besides their Primo had been Big Tom, Muska's former right-hand man.

A'toni was low on the pecking order of the ship, but even he had heard that the depraved adjutant had met his end in that city, with dozens more in tow.

"Ms.A! Ms.A! Ms.A!" A little girl screamed with a horse throat and red face. She was draped over Wiskey's shoulder, and he was not at all gentle with her as he flung her to the tiled floor of the kitchen.

"Che pelle!" A'toni exclaimed. "What iz ze meaning of zis!"

"Shet yer mouf!" Wiskey shot back, "Ima gill her! Gut her good! Fuckin kid, yellin in ma ear!"

The Crewcut giant made as if to stomp on the helpless girl before A'toni quickly placed himself between them.

"You bastardo! She iz a piccola, you animal!" A'toni scolded, anger overcoming reason.

Unfortunately, he didn't get to say more as Scotch sidestepped his friend to backhand the enslaved chef, sending the man sprawling to the floor next to the child.

The Napolinian man was dazed but quickly regained his bearings as he attempted to stand back up, ears still ringing. Then he felt the large meaty hands of Wiskey wrap around his head and neck, a dozen warped images of the man blurring in and out of focus as his shaken head fought to restore order.

*Crack!*

A'toni almost blacked out as Wiskey's hard forehead met his own, driving the chef back onto the floor amidst the wails of the terrified girl. If A'toni hadn't been a fairly tall and well-built man himself, the blow might have killed him.

He felt like he was going to die, yet oddly enough, also felt at peace. He was standing up for himself here, and not just himself, but the child as well. He wished he could see his mother again, show her that he had not gone down as a coward bemoaning his fate. Then he felt himself being lifted up again by the collar of his uniform.

"Kill you! I'll fucking kill you!" Wiskey hissed through cartoonishly large teeth.

Not yet, A'toni thought. Si! I can still…save her. Weak as he was, he felt around with what strength he had with his left hand which could still touch his prep table.

Then, he felt it. The familiar glass jar of his secret ingredient…Pearl Jam! A processed local jelly concentrate from his homeland used to add an umami flavor to Napolini dishes. Trattor, the red fruity mascot of the bitter fruit the jam was derived from was famous throughout his country.

A'toni smashed the glass jar against the thug's head.

Wiskey cried out in pain as bits of glass and salty goo cut into the skin of his face, his colleague too stupid to do more than stare at the events that quickly unfolded.

Unwilling to waste the advantage. A'toni quickly grabbed a carving knife, but wasted time by hesitating to attack his assailant. He had, after all, never killed a man.

"L-La Bambina!" A'toni cried out, "Behind me! Deitro!"

Despite the language barrier, the little girl understood the intent of his words and placed herself behind his body.

"Kill you! Kill you! Gill You!" Wiskey cried out.

"Yer dead!" Scotch added. "Who cares if'n the boss gets angry. Yer food tastes like shit anyway!"

Simultaneously they brought out pistols. A'toni was only just able to turn and duck, bringing the child with him behind the table as the gangsters began to unload bullet after bullet.

He had done it…he had killed them. It was only a matter of time now. His only regret was that he hadn't saved the child, and he wasn't able to say farewell.

We'll meet again mama…in ze next life.

*Clinkclinkscreeech*

A'toni looked up at the familiar noise. Its source, again, is the air vent. More specifically the grills which were even now being wedged open by large brown gloves.

A blue ball fell out of the opening. Spinning as it spewed a blueish-white smoke that smelt like…well it smelt terrible.

As the fog overtook the kitchen and A'toni heard the gunfire become more erratic, he could have sworn he also saw the form of another little girl fall from the vent. An observation that was proven true as he heard her slam onto the stove and proceed to kick his boiling Beef Broccoli onto the villains.

A single thought described the situation perfectly, …Merda.

x.X.x

Sen had watched with apprehension as the two thugs manhandled and almost killed Leez, one of her sister's students. Had it not been for the timely intervention of the chef, Sen had no doubt the little girl would have been squashed under the foot of the hulking man.

It all happened so fast after that. Words were said, the goons assaulted the cook with the funny words, a jar was broken, and a knife and guns were drawn. All while Sen hesitated.

What could she do? If she revealed herself, could she stand against two such large armed men? If she died, how would Josuke find her? Find Coco?

What would you do sis? Jojo?! She screamed in her mind. But it was a question she already had the answer to in her inner heart. She knew what the right thing to do was. What they would want her to do was.

Sen wasted no more time as she used her gloves and screwdriver to pry open the vent's blowhole. As gunfire rang out below her, she took a skunk bomb from her satchel, lit it with her finger, and dropped it down toward the stove.

As havoc ensued below, confusion springing from her actions, Sen placed her back onto the upper vent, feet atop the grills, then jumped down. Hard.

She fell down thirty feet to the stove but was athletic enough to catch herself amidst the smoke and chaos. Immediately Sen kicked the boiling pot of stew she had earlier salivated over, watching as the scalding liquid splashed upon Leez's assailants.

Now what, Sen thought not having planned further beyond this point.

The two large men fell to the kitchen floor and grasped at their faces, howling in pain as they tried to wipe away the simmering brown liquid and bits of beef.

Quickly deciding it wouldn't be wise to allow these killers the time to regain themselves, Sen stretched out her arms and launched the hidden hooks of her gloves into the gangsters, one into each. Then she flipped the switch that sent 2,500 volts of pure pain into bastards that had dared lay their hands on one of Daggertown's own.

Once. Twice. Thrice she sent currents into the men to make sure they would stay down.

Unfortunately, the gloves' power supply was running short, and these men had the physiques necessary to take the damage they were being dealt, even as they were badly hurt.

Sen suddenly found herself flying through the air toward the one with purple hair as he fought through his pain to yank the cord feeding electricity into his unwilling body.

No! That should have kil-, but she didn't have time to finish the thought as she found herself picked up and placed into a chokehold by the other man, whose short hair was now bald on spots where the scalding stew had fell, which was most of his face.

"I don't know who you are! But m'gonna pop yer head like a waterm-YEOWWW!" he screamed, dropping Sen to the floor.

She almost made the mistake of reaching for her neck as she regained her breath. It would have been a bad idea considering she had just used the sodering irons hidden in the fingers of her gloves to bore holes into Burn-face's arms.

Suddenly she felt the hard kick of Purple-hair but was able to use the momentum of the strike to roll away and put distance between them and herself despite the pain. Not willing to waste their advantage, Purple dashed toward her.

In response, Sen clicked the heels of her boots. The action sprang out two sets of hidden motorized wheels in the soles of her boots, which immediately began to rev.

As Purple hair drew close, Sen began to spin familiarly on her new skates to build momentum, using skills she had developed in her free time to keep balance. When he was within a few feet, Sen used the speed she had generated to ride the wall.

Whether it was the smoke, or the simply seeing a pre-teen child pull off such an unexpected trick, Scotch made the mistake of standing still in awe, because Sen wasn't done.

Launching off the wall toward her pursuer, Sen began to quickly spin in the air, with the intent of striking back. The inertia she had generated made her look not unlike a large spinning pink top.

"Galaaaaxy! SMASH!" she cried out, aiming a well-placed kick at Purple's knee, right between the collateral meniscus and ligament.

There was a sickening cruch as the man's face ate tile, made all the more horrid as he howled out in pain, his lower left leg now jutting out at an abnormal angle.

"I-I did that…" Sen told herself, feelings of pride and pity filling her even as she fought down the nausea she now felt.

But the distraction cost her.

The other one, Short hair, used that moment to lung himself at Sen, his huge frame pinning her down. Immediately she felt his huge meaty thumbs go for her eyes, his giant hands wrapping around the entirety of her small head.

Just as she began to feel the pressure of his squeeze, she heard the loud crack of iron striking something solid, before the entirety of Short hair's body fell atop her.

It took several seconds before she was able to get out from beneath the now unconscious gangster, aided by the cook who was able to lift off some of the girth.

The chef had a solid-looking cast iron pan in his right hand, one that was dripping blood. A look at the head of the man who had nearly strangled her, as well as his comrade whose leg she had broken told Sen all she needed to know.

"You saved me," she said.

"No, ci hai slavaaaaa- I mean, you save us. Grazie." He seemed to realize something as he finished. "Quickly, we musta la fuga, or ah…scappare, um how you say….Escape, yes. We must being the escape."

"I can't go," Sen replied, "I'm here to save my- OOF!" She was interrupted by a tackle from Leeze.

"*sniff* Ms. Sen! You have to save Ms. A! Please please!" the young girl sobbed into her shirt.

"Calmati, ragazzina," the chef cood, placing a comforting hand on Leez's shoulder. "What we must do now, is away ourself. This floor is, how you say, vuoto. Zi Primo, he like'a the private. Many banda have disappeared. If we are to vamos, we must do so on ze pronto. Si?"

"I can't leave," Sen said resolved. "The entire reason we came here was to save my sister and the missing kids. Can you get Leez out of here while I go save the others?"

The cook's eyes met her own as he seemed to ponder her words. His stare, analyzing, like he was trying to come to some sort of inner decision, while also taking her measure.

"My name," he began, voice serious, "Is A'toni Vultore Miguelo Zeppeli-Reynardo…And I will help you save this Lady Aye, o morire provandoci."

"...WHAT?"

x.X.x

Hello everyone. Long time no update, huh? I'd give excuses, but I'm sure none would be particularly good. I started some other stories, dropped some other stories. Life happened. I'm sure you all can relate. In any case, the next chapter is already done and posted on Spacebattles, if you've a mind to read ahead. I'll be posting chapter 8 in the next day or so once I've given one or two more proofreads.

Chapter 8 will mark the end of the rescue. While I plan to finish out this arc in Chapter 9.

Ciao!