Pol Stictid

---

As the light of dawn began to shine on Pol Topelia's capitol, cries of gulls and crows began to echo down from above. Birds laden with precious news began to filter across the city, making their deliveries. But while the News Coos delivered stories from other islands, the crows were garnering more buzz as they delivered their own papers: the local rag, 'Topelia Times'.

At the highest point of the city, in one of several turrets reaching towards the sky in a fortress-like castle, man sat at his desk in a clean office, window open, letting light pour on to the large potted plant flanking an organized desk. Silently dropping the paper, the man, his well built figure fitting into a dark brown military uniform, a blonde goatee around his mouth under a bald head, rubbed his forehead for a moment. The headline read 'Revolutionaries Attack Boat Carrying Medical Supplies for Epidemic! Dozens Endangered!'

Gritting his teeth, Dario Capper's sigh transformed into a snarl as he slammed his fist on his desk, snapping, "Damn them! They don't even know what they want anymore!" Ever since he'd first gotten the report, it was all that was on his mind: this was sheer terrorism! He couldn't just say nothing.

The door cracking open, a voice called, "You rang, sir?"

Dario blinked, before taking a breath, replying, "Well, I was...come in." Door opening, a man with short red hair, glasses, and a brown suit walked in. Dario said, "Nopalé, I want to give a statement to the public regarding the incident yesterday."

Nopalé confirmed, "I'll send for preparations at once."

Dario nodded, "Very good. And the Marines?"

"They're not pleased, but they've agreed not to land until we give the order," Nopalé explained.

Dario huffed, "Well, they'll just have to deal with it: we can handle this ourselves!" Bringing a hand to his beard thoughtfully, he suggested, "Have the speechwriter put in something along those lines."

"As you wish," Nopalé stated, before being waved away.

Now alone again, Dario stood, moving towards the wide window, looking out and over the city, streets only just beginning to move. As he imagined it devastated by the Revolutionary Army, he could only slam his fist into the frame, gritting his teeth.

"Not my country you animals..."

---

Ostropa

---

"Commander? Sir? Are you awake?"

There was a snort, then a grunt, before the answer came, "I am now..."

Throwing his legs off the edge of his bunk and sitting up with a groan, Alzac rubbed his head, scratching at his curly, pale brown hair. Stopping, he looked at his hand, which still had faint stains of blood. Cringing, he stood, stretching his sore limbs, before moving from his bunk, grabbing a black coat and throwing it over his bare torso. Finishing up with a hat fanged to look like a wolf, he asked, "What's the damage?"

The junior Revolutionary with short dark hair and glasses began, "Er, well, most everyone who was injured's been stabilized, but there's this..."

The younger girl held up a newspaper, Alzac taking it, his face contorting to anger at the headline. Throwing it aside, he grumbled, "Medical supplies!? My ass!"

That ship had been loaded with weapons, and far too many of them were primed and ready by the time the Revolutionaries had gotten there. The battle was devastating on both sides, but at the very least what weapons the Revolutionaries hadn't recovered were resting on the bottom of the ocean. The aftermath though...

Even aside from the battle, things hadn't been going well: while elsewhere, underworlds were well aware of the strange and shifty trades going down on Pol Topelia, but here? No one seemed the wiser. And since the island appeared squeaky clean, approval of Dario Capper was at a high. As far as the public knew, the only major threat was the 'evil, monstrous, Revolutionaries', while the average criminal was just waiting to be busted.

Alzac didn't want that to stand, but as things were...

Shaking his head, he pushed that thought from his mind before moving from his cabin, taking to the common area of their rather large boat, currently moored in a hidden spot on the rocky coastline nearby Ostropa. Weaving his way through the resting and wound men, he called, "Vice! Fukubei! Where..." Turning to his junior, he asked, "Livian, send someone to get them." With a nod, she headed off, Alzac continuing on, heading to the deck of the ship to await them.

---

As the morning went on, the docks of Ostropa continued to buzz with activity, ships leaving with the island's quality ore and minerals while more came in with a variety of goods from all over the South Blue and beyond.

Bumming around the alleyways a ways away from the docks, however, was a lone girl. Her shoulders were slumped, pink hair flowing over them. Her purple eyes were lidded, her face sunken as she shambled. She wore a light white coat with red trim and cuffs over a short-sleeved white shirt and blue shorts, while an iron rod was kept across her back.

Looking to the sky, she took a breath, before grumbling, "What did I do earlier today again..?"

Letting out a cry of frustration, Claribel Donner moaned, "I don't remember anything! Have I even eaten yet!? Today is so boring!" Poking at her stomach, it didn't answer her back, so apparently she had indeed eaten.

Then maybe...it was her that was boring? As if to try and answer her own question, she suggested, "Maybe I should punch the next person I see." She then mumbled, "No, that wouldn't work..." Letting out a sigh, she continued on her aimless path.

As she moved on, a watching eye peered from beyond a cracked open door...

Ostropa

"I don't understand. Perhaps Alzac will know what to do. I should ask him to get high." Vice whispered to herself as she stood on a roof, overlooking the whole of Ostropa with her mind searching for answers to her questions.

-Few minutes earlier-

"Hey miss, wanna get high?"

Vice had been walking around the slums in Ostropa and what still piqued her curiosity was the fact that compared to every city she had visited, criminal activity in Pol Topelia was in one word, irregular. Constantly shifting with no apparent reason. From practically non-existent to frighteningly high yet the tyrant didn't do a thing about it. His propaganda focused on the evil revolutionaries.

She turned towards the man addressing her, he was dressed well enough for those parts.

"Why?" she asked with her cold, emotionless voice and her hand resting on her katana, hidden beneath her kimono.

"Well, you know, you see the world differently when high. You learn stuff that you'd never even imagine otherwise." His smile wasn't warm or kind but full of confidence, as if he had complete control over their encounter.

And Vice noticed that. Easy to miss but not for her eyes. A sword demands attention to detail, one miscalculation, a simple unnoticed detail and you lose a hand.

"I see. Then, if I get high, I'll learn something, isn't that what you're saying?"
"Definitely, let me hit you u-"
"And what am gonna learn, will help me in... you know what?.." she added with a conspiratory look on her face.
"Yes! I'll hit you up wit-!"

She patted him on the shoulder, her heart moved by his act.

"Thank you very much. I'll get high now. And don't worry young lad, your deeds might have changed the fate of this country."

By the time his jaw hit the ground, she was already atop a roof and heading for the tallest one, tears glistening in her eyes for the love of the people of Ostropa for their country. Love strong enough to make them defy danger and freely give her, a revolutionary, a hint which could prove vital in their fight against the tyrant.

Present / Revolutionary HQ / Ostropa

The sight of her injured comrades fueled her hate towards the lord of Pol Topelia and by any Gods that could hear her, she would avenge both the dead and the living.

She quickly headed towards the ship's deck, where Alzac usually was and sure enough, she saw him, his fanged hat a pleasant sight in this tortured country.

"Commander Alzac. We should get high."

Ostropa
---
As a multitude of ships were going in and out of Ostropa, one merchant ship in particular had an unusual passenger aboard waiting impatiently to finally get to land. Alexander Storm stood at the front of the ship, eyeing the island they would reach soon as the workers on the ship began getting ready to land and unload their cargo. 'Pol Topelia, one of the numerous islands in the south blue without Marine control or protection. If I remember correctly, they're partaking in a civil war of sorts.' Alexander thought as he continued to look at the island. “Hey Doc.!” A voice behind him called out. Alex turned to see the Captain of the ship walking up to him, “The boats about to hit shore, get your things ready to leave.” He said.

Alex lifted his medical bag that contained much of his fist aid supplies as well as a couple of notebooks. The bag had a red cross on it and the word ‘DOCTOR’ written on it in all caps. “This is all I have sir. I’m ready to leave at any time.” Alex explained.

The Captain looked at the boy for a second before talking again, “I want to thank you again for using your doctor magic on my First Mate, without you, he’d probably be dead.” The Captain said with a toothy grin as he gestured towards said First Mate, who seemed to be working with the rest of the crew.

Alex smiled a bit before replying, “All I did was give him an antidote for sea urchin poison, I should be thanking you for letting me ride with you to Pol Topelia.” Alex then took out a notebook from his bag before opening it to a bookmarked page, “Tell me, do you know anything about a man named Dr. Simmons?”

The Captain stroked his beard for a minute in thought before answering, “I think I heard about him, he’s a well known doctor that found a cure for something right? I heard about him last time I visited Ostropa.” he explained

“Yes well, I was hoping you’d know where I can find him.” Alex asked

“Sorry kid, no idea. I’m sure if you ask around you can probably find the guy.” The Captain said and Alex nodded silently at that, pleased with the answer. “Well anything else I can help you with?”

Alex contemplated for a minute before putting away his notebook, then taking out what seemed to be a rolled up wanted poster, “I’m looking for this man, know anything about him?” Alex said as he unrolled the piece of paper to reveal the picture of a middle aged, green haired man holding a boomerang. Under the picture showed his name and bounty, Boomerang Ben. Dead or Alive. 50,000,000 Belly.

The old man looked at the bounty poster in shock before shaking his head, “F-f-f-fifty million belly!!! Sorry but I don’t know anything about a guy as dangerous as him. Why’re you looking for a filthy pirate like him anyways? You out for the bounty?” The Captain asked, a little stunned and confused by the fact that a doctor would be hunting down a dangerous pirate.

Alex twitched as the Captain said the words ‘filthy pirate’ but stopped himself from showing any emotions because of it. “No no no, I’m looking for him for more personal reasons.” Alex said to the Captain as he tried to assure him he wasn’t planning to fight him. After talking with the older man for a little while longer, the boat finally arrived at the dock. “Seems like I’ll be going now. Thank you for the ride.” He said as he began to walk off the boat.

“No problem kid, take care of yourself!!! I hope you find that Filthy pirate you’re looking for!!!” The Captain yelled out to the boy.

“Yeah ... ‘Filthy pirate’.” Alex mumbled to himself as he stepped off the boat and began walking away from the dock and towards the shopping area.

After asking random merchants and townspeople for around ten minutes, Alex was easily able to find the office of the famous Dr. Simmons. As he stood in front of the building, he looked down as a map that a person had drawn for him. “Well, this is it.” He said before opening the door. “Excuse me, is there a Dr. Simmons here?” He asked as he walked into the building.

Ostropa

The ship Kohl had been sailing on had been cramped wall to wall with smelly, drunk pirates. The pirates sailed on a small ship that went over the maximum capacity a while ago. Kohl usually stayed on the deck of the ship, avoiding the lower deck and being pushed along a wall where he could barely breathe. Kohl was at the front of the ship when he saw the docks of Ostropa come into view. Kohl breathed a silent sigh of relief, knowing the nightmare of this ship was coming to an end.

Kohl was the first person off the ship after it docked, Kohl was already packed up when the ship finally came to a halt. Only a couple changes of clothes, his tools and his lucky rock were in his bag that wrapped itself around Kohl's chest. Kohl looked around at all the ships that were docked. Most if not all looked to be in great shape, the demand for a repair man was low right now so Kohl would guess he would have to wait a couple days before he could get a job in from someone. Kohl looked into his coat pocket, having just enough money to get by those two days if he used the money wisely.

Kohl had been looking around the docks a little more when he was the man. The man was a tall, lanky man with a coat that was buttoned all the way up to his chin. At first Kohl gave him a glance and looked away, but Kohl couldn't shake the feeling that he was being watched. Kohl looked around more, and had eye contact with the man but this time the man beckoned Kohl over with his hand. Kohl slowly walked over to the man, wondering what he could want. When Kohl reached the mysterious man, he talked in a low serious tone. "I've seen you walk these docks back and forth many times.. A traveler looking for some work perhaps?" The man gave Kohl a little squint, looking him up and down waiting for a answer. Kohl stood there for a moment before silently answering. "Ye-Yeah you could say that." Kohl looked down at the ground for a bit, attempting to avoid eye contact with the man. The mysterious man replied in the same tone he had before, "Well, I heard of a man looking for someone with experience in the working field. I don't know what you would do, but he told me to get the word out to anyone willing to work."

Kohl's eyes lit up at the sound of a job, "I... I will do anything for a job right now. I'm kin- kinda broke right now." Kohl forced out, grabbing the strap of his bag and squeezing it. The man looked down at Kohl again before telling him the location of the man. "You will find him in the back alley of the local bar, find the bar and find the alley then you will find him." Kohl nodded his head at the directions, and thanked the man for the tip. Kohl started to walk away from the docks, trying to figure out the job he may receive the man.

Revolutionary Army Vessel

"Oh, Vice, you're...what?" Alzac blinked at her suggestion, eyes shrinking as he stared for a few moments. Brow furrowing under the lip of his cap, he shook his head before replying, "I'll ask about that later."

He began to open his mouth to speak again, but there were footsteps from behind Vice. Stepping forward was a man a good foot or so taller than Alzac, his pale blue hair and stubble scraggly, his white, sleeveless shirt and dull green shorts bridged by a red sash, a pistol held within. Fukubei asked, "Yo, what's happening?"

Taking a breath, Alzac began, "Morning to you two too. Anyway, let's get to the point: yesterday was a mess. I already sent a report to the top brass over in the East, so I should get word back later today. They might send reinforcements, but in the worst case we'll be pulling out of Topelia for now. With that in mind, we need to recover as fast as possible either way."

Pointing a finger at Fukubei, he said, "I found out the other day that there's a warehouse near here that has some extra supplies. As in, criminals hiding their crap with the help of some bribed officials." With a grin, he added, "Well, we can't stand for such blatant corruption, can we? Livian's sent someone to mark the crates we're taking, so round up anyone fit to do some lifting and get on that. Not all of it is useful to us, but we should be getting some stolen medications and substances that can be converted into something we can use. It should help us get back on our feet. It's not the most moral thing, but we're in no position to just return it..."

Fukubei nodded, rolling his shoulder as he said, "Alright, sounds like a plan."

Turning to Vice, Alzac began, "As for you, as much as I'd like to have you there in case there's trouble, I need your help with something else. Jolyne and Jakellian have been working their hearts out, but we're still critically understaffed as far as doctors go. And of course, between that newspaper article and the public's opinion on us, it's not going to be easy to just hire one. Still, could you give it a look? It's kind of a longshot, but you're really honest..." Edges of his mouth twitching, he repeated, "Really honest. Tricking a doctor into helping us won't do us any good Just be careful about what you tell people..." Suddenly having a couple doubts, Alzac reconsidered, but as it was out there, he felt it would be cheap to turn back now.

Clearing his throat, he finished, "Also, Vice, if Fukubei runs in to trouble, you'll be around as backup. You two have got your Baby Den Den Mushis, right? If anything's up, let each other know before giving me some word."

Adjusting the lip of his cap, he concluded, "Well, that should cover it. Good luck." With that, he allowed the two to leave, before glancing over the edge of the boat, anxiety rising as he considered the call he was going to get later...

---

Central District

Alexander entered the office, the waiting room clean and homey, but the benches and chairs rather empty. Behind the desk, a light haired woman in a white lab coat looked up, sitting up straighter before beginning, "Oh, greetings! This is where Doctor Simmons practices, however, he is not in at the moment." Shaking her head, she explained, "Er, well, he hasn't been in for a few months now." Gasping, she added, "I mean, he's fine! He's not hurt or in danger. He's just in Lillicoa." Hair starting to get frazzled, she stammered, "A-ah, y-you look new here, so you probably don't know where it is, but you can find a map at...city hall?"

After a moment of awkward silence, the woman, admitted, "S-sorry, we haven't gotten a lot of people here since Dr. Simmons left... I can send a letter to him if you'd like though. Unless you need medical attention, then we have someone here! Who...oh, wait, it's me!" At that, the woman tightly pursed her lips, as if trying to keep more words from escaping.

---

Front edge of the Back District

Once Kohl found his way, arriving at the designated alleyway in due time. It was on the dingier side, but otherwise quiet, with no supposed 'employer' in sight. However, from back door of the bar came a noise, before it opened up, someone coming through, the large man squeezing through the opening with a bit of difficulty. Standing tall, he closed the door before looking over Kohl, scratching at his red beard. Cracking his neck, he began, "Alright, alright...ya looking for some work?"

"Ain't gonna be a walk in the park, you know. Yer gonna go with..." Stopping, he glanced around, before grumbling, "Huh!? Where the hell...what was his name. Cheese? Cheese! OI CHEESE! WHERE THE HELL DID YOU GO!?"

---

Back District

With no idea how long she'd been walking Claribel readily assumed she hadn't bumped in to anyone yet. But her walking had backfired, as now she had no idea where she was.

Finally, something caught her eye. Approaching, she saw a young boy, his eyes sternly locked on her. Not backing down, Claribel walked over, eyes locked. The green haired lad flinched as she reached him, stooping down so that they were at eye level. Raising her fist, Claribel held true to her promise, shooting it out. She bopped him in the forehead lightly, proclaiming, "Boop."

The child continued to stare. Claribel frowned, "That usually gets a laugh. What's up?" On a closer look, while his hair was a bit unkempt and his clothes slightly ratty, he wasn't filthy like some sort of street urchin.

Finally, the child spoke, wondering aloud, "Why...why are you walking in circles?"

Bowing her head, Claribel let out a short groan, before admitting, "Oh, I just...forgot where I was going, maybe?" The child was silent, which Claribel took to mean he wasn't interested. Raising her hands, she grabbed his face, squashing his cheeks as she wondered, "But what're you doing in this scummy looking place? There could be criminals doing shady stuff, like, right over there, you know?"

Getting a little frustrated, the child managed to mutter, "Then what are you doing here?"

"Oh, I'm a pirate! Yup, even a cute girl like me can be a scummy pirate!"

The boy's face tightened before he wrested Claribel's hands away from his face, before crying, "But they aren't scummy! In my house! They...they're in my house and acting like they own the place." Looking aside, he admitted, "Not that we do own it, but..."

"Oh, that's parents for you."

"No! They're a bunch of guys who keep stomping around and bragging to each other!"

Thinking back to the sailors she grew up alongside, Claribel laughed, "Still sounds like home to me." Standing straight, she stretched before saying, "Tell someone in a uniform about it, like a cop or a Marine."

"They're soldiers! No one can do anything about it...."

Claribel stopped blinking for a moment. Putting a finger to her lip, she had to think. Soldiers shacking up in the house of a quasi-street urchin in the worst part of town...

Claribel grinned, giggling, "Now that is in-ter-es-ting~"

Alexander had looked at the woman standing in front of him in silence as said woman shifted uncomfortably. The situation had changed, Dr. Simmons was no where in sight and now, he had spent a good three week boat ride for nothing. Alex sighed in frustration at the situation he was in, “No I don’t need any professional help, however I did need to speak with Dr. Simmons. If he is not here then I will be taking my leave. I'm sorry to bother you.” He said with a bow as he turned to leave the homely office but noticed a newspaper on the coffee table. He quickly picked it up before leaving the office, disappointed that the doctor was not ‘in the house’, so to speak.

As he walked the empty streets of Ostropa, he read the front article of the newspaper, 'Revolutionaries Attack Boat Carrying Medical Supplies for Epidemic! Dozens Endangered!' it read. Alex raised an eyebrow at this, ‘Terrorists attack ships with medicine, not revolutionaries. Revolutionaries fight FOR the people, it doesn't make sense to do something like this. This has to be propaganda, someone just wants to rile up the public in order to sell more papers or a really unorganized rebellion group.’ Alex thought in disgust as all three scenarios, he then threw the newspaper into a nearby trash can, feeling a bit angry. Alex started walking aimlessly as he lifted his medical bag over his shoulder, the red cross and the equally large word ‘doctor’ becoming more visible and to eye level as to advertise the fact that he was a doctor and looking for work. "Lets try to find some work." He mumbled to himself.

Inside of the bar, Chester stood leaning over the counter, flirting with the bar maiden while he was holding a bottle of grog in his hand. The woman and him were talking for a while, untill Chester realized something, glancing at the clock. He was supposed to meet Venture: a henchman of Don Calliote, who had a job for him. With a slight sigh he bid the wench farewell, till they would see each other again, as he headed out of the bar and towards the alley.

Arriving as he heard the shouting of dairy products he let out a yawn. "Sup." He let out.

Venture turned to Chester, gritting his teeth before muttering, "Oh, you were in there, huh? Slipped by me you..." Stepping away, he snorted, before turning back to both Chester and the other, beginning, "So: here's what's what. Further back in the Back District, there's gonna be a meet. First, you have to find Mott." Turning the the younger one, Venture continued, "You already met 'em. Thin dude, long coat." Chuckling, he continued, "But that's not the meet: yer gonna be going with him to meet some other guys. Mostly you'll just need to look tough. Easier said then done, but if you do well, yer money problems are going to go, you hear me?"

Jabbing a finger at Chester, he added, "And if you try to slip it's gonna hurt, got it?"

Chester listened to the man's rambling, swigging from his drink while he was at it, the guy was going on forever. The gist of it all, as far as he understood it was to find some schmuk and then play muscle. Venture decided to make a point, Chester looked at his finger for a second, before letting out a burp. "And besides, like you could hit me." As if he was closing an argument. Turning to the other guy, he smirked. "Off we go then. Ladies first."

Revolutionary Army Vessel

"As for you, as much as I'd like to have you there in case there's trouble, I need your help with something else. Jolyne and Jakellian have been working their hearts out, but we're still critically understaffed as far as doctors go. And of course, between that newspaper article and the public's opinion on us, it's not going to be easy to just hire one. Still, could you give it a look? It's kind of a longshot, but you're really honest... Really honest. Tricking a doctor into helping us won't do us any good. Just be careful about what you tell people..."

Vice had her orders. Finally! she thought as she simply nodded towards Alzac and winked at Fukubei. Moments later, she was on her way, a plan already formed in her head.

Ostropa

She had been watching the two men for quite some time now and she was certain that they would be able to help her.

"Excuse me, would you know where to find a doctor?" she asked as she wore her best smile and tried her best to appear as fragile as she could.

"A doctor? You aren't hurt, are you? Someone like you should be careful...-"

They know! she thought and her hand moved to her blade at once.

"...around these parts, lots of shady guys and with the revolutionaries making their move on Pol Topelia, things could get dangerous."

"Is that a threat, little man?" she whispered with a raspy voice. Once more, she had completely missed the point.

"Huh? How?... What am saying is that we, as soldiers, will fight for your safe-"

"For my head?! Aha, it seems like I fell right into your ambush. But don't you think that you have me now! This revolutionary will definitely return to the base with a doctor! Just you watch!

"A revolutionary! Impossible!"

As both parties drew their weapons, Vice only then noticed a piece of paper on a nearby board, where big red letters had the name 'Doctor Simmons' and an address below them.

She grinned and sheathed her blade.

"It seems like I won't be kicking your asses today. So long, soldiers of the tyrant!"

She ran off and soon was on the street where supposedly Simmons was located.

She entered the building as if she owned it, looking as feminine and cute as she could, she had to get him to follow her without any violence.

Alexander had only walked a good three feet before he saw Vice as a blur run past him. "The hell?!" he yelled as the she ran into the office he was in not to long ago. He ran back to the office to see what the blur was, only to see a orientally dressed women looking around the room desperately. 'Beautiful,' he thought as he got a good look at the women in front of him, but quickly erased the train of thought from his mind as he noticed was the blade at her side, 'This is a dangerous woman.' he thought

"DOCTOR SIMMONS!" she yelled.

"If you're looking for doctor Simmons, he's gone. If you're looking for a doctor, I can help if it's an emergency." Alex explained from behind her as he lifted his bag to show the doctor sign on his bag. "My name is Doctor Storm. I'm a travelling doctor." he said.

For a long moment, Vice stared at the man claiming to be a doctor and she could see that he was very young yet his black eyes had a certain confidence in them.

"You don't even know who I am and what I want. I could be a revolutionary and you wouldn't have a clue. Even a travelling doctor, as you claim to be, should be on his toes in Ostropa."

She took a step closer and clearly put her hand on her katana.

"Thing is, in these parts, no one offers help without wanting something in return. What do you want, Dr. Storm, in exchange for your help?"

Vice was serious this time, there was no room for even the slightest mistake, the lives of many of her comrades rested on her shoulders.

Alex very subtly put his hand closer to his own concealed weapons, ready to defend himeself against the katana wielder if the need be. He thought about her words for a minute before responding, "I'm the kind of guy who will work for three things, Money, Information, and Honesty." he responded with a stern look. "The first two can wait for later but I want you to be honest with me now if you want my help, ARE you a revolutionary?" he asked blatantly, as he was trying not to beat around the bush. "And if you are, tell me the truth of what happened." He began as he held up a newspaper showing the headline 'Revolutionaries Attack Boat Carrying Medical Supplies for Epidemic! Dozens Endangered!' "I know that this is a lie, but I want to know what realy happened."

"Yes, I am a revolutionary." she whispered as she leaned closer.

"But don't even think about using that against me. Now, if you follow me, I'll get you to a man who will explain everything. It's not too far."

Vice didn't know this guy well enough to trust him around her comrades but she didn't have any other options with Dr. Simmons gone. She would take him to Alzac and he would decide what would follow.

Alex watched her eyes very carefully. They were unwavering and determined, passion that only someone who was telling the truth could show. "Patient confidentiality, as long as I'm working for you, you don't have to worry about me telling anybody anything." He said with a smirk.

She started walking towards the exit, stopping only for a brief moment.

"Well, are you coming?" she said once more, wearing her warmest smile.

Alex nodded before beginning to step out the building, "Lead the way, the faster we go the sooner I can get to work."

Central District

As Alex and Vice crossed words, the lady doctor on the other side of the room simply sat at her seat in awkward silence, until the two left. Breathing a sigh of relief, she wondered, "What was that all about?"

Glancing towards the nearby window, she realized, "Oh, that's right: the Supreme Chancellor has his speech soon...but sh-should I close up?"

---

Back District

"So it was this way?"

"No, I said left!"

"Thiiiiis left?"

"You're just messing with me!"

"Heeheehee," Claribel giggled.

The young boy at her heels, Claribel made her way through the narrow roads of the Back District, passing the occasional sweat-stink beggar or salty hooligan.

Taking a turn, the boy said, "We're almost there...but..."

Claribel waited for a moment, before asking, "What's that about butts?"

The boy admitted, "It's...quiet. It's normally busier around here."

Claribel said, "It's plenty busy, just not on the road. I hear voices coming from over there."

The boy gawked, "Huh, where? I don't hear anything." As Claribel moved towards a splintery door, slightly askew on its hinges, the boy said, "Hey, that's where I live!" As Claribel's hand moved towards the door, the boy watched anxiously.

---

Back District Warehouse

"Ah, shit, shit!"

Breathing heavily, Fukubei sat against a crate in a dim warehouse. His pistol had fallen to the ground amidst a steadily growing mess of blood, dripping from his forearm.

"S-sir!?" cried on of his men, ducking as bullets whizzed by from the soldiers on the catwalks above.

Fukubei growled, "How the hell did they know we were coming!? Or were they here for something else? If someone snitched I'm gonna poke them in the eyes."

"Th-that's it?"

Fukubei blinked, before suggesting, "Uh...punch them?" The man shook his head, before Fukubei cried, "Kill their family!"

"That's too much!"

"Whatever," Fukubei grumbled, much to his ally's displeasure. Reaching into his sash with his good hand, he pulled out a blue baby Den Den Mushi, dialing a number, praying, "Vice you better be nearby or I'm gonna..."

"Die."

Vice took long, confident strides on the busy street with the doctor at her side. She had completed her mission without any trouble for once and it felt surprisingly good.

"You aren't just a doctor, are you? When I touched my sword back in Simmons's house, you put your hand on your bag and I doubt it was because you were afraid I'd steal it. You were pretty subtle, I'll give you that, but my eyes aren't so easily tricked you know. she told Alexander, with a soft smile on her face. She felt relaxed for the first time in weeks.

Alex smiled back and nodded a bit, "I would be lying if I said I wasn't able to defend myself. Just a few things I picked up here and there from around the South Blue." He said casually as he looked around the streets at the people and shops.

Only now did she notice how worn out she was from the lack of sleep and the extremes she had put her body throught these last few weeks in this city. She barely remembered the last time she had slept for more than an hour without having to run somewhere, fight someone or simply take care of an injured comrade. As soon as they reached the ship, she'd take a long, hot bath and then sleep until the end of the world if that's what her body wanted and not even Alzac would dare stop her.

The sound of her Den Den Mushi broke her dreams of baths and naps although at the time she only expected Fukubei to inform her of his success.

"You're late, you bas-"

"Hey Vice, I'd really like to see you. Like right now."

She froze in place, her eyes wide. Fukubei was a skilled fighter and now she could feel the tension in his voice. This was no ordinary call.

"Look up."

That's all she wanted to say and she knew that it was all he needed to hear. They didn't need any more words to say what they had in both their minds and hearts, after all the countless battles they've fought together, they've grown to understand each other without words.

Vice hid the Mushi in her pocket and glanced towards Alexander, her face now cold, barely capable of hiding her murderous intent.

"You can come with me and fight against odds no ordinary man would want to face or head towards the port."

Her voice was barely audible as she had already started running towards the warehouse.

Alex smirked before quickly running after her, surprisingly catching up to the very fast women. "Odds no ordinary man would want to face? I am a doctors. It is a job that requires you to beat the odds on a regular basis in order to save lives." He said, "What I am trying to say is that the 'odds' have never deterred me before, and if people are in danger then they definitely won't stop me now."

Alex took a strap out of his doctors bag and tied it to said bag, turning it into a satchel for easier mobility. Alexander took a moment to think about what he was getting himself into. On one hand this girl was probably a criminal, and going with her would mean he would be getting into trouble. However on the other hand Alexander was a doctor, which means that if someone was hurt then its his job to help them out.

"What's the situation?"

"Fukubei, my comrade, is in trouble and thing is, he is skilled enough that he should have no trouble against the guys the ruler of Pol Topelia, Dario Capper, has. So, we're up against both those grunts and someone new, someone strong enough to beat Fukubei." Vice replied, skeptical.

Warehouse

"You've got me, l-let them go you bastard." Fukubei hissed as he laid on the cold floor of that old warehouse. Not a nice place to die... he thought. This time his luck had abandoned him, this guy was at an entirely different level than him.

Hell, even Alzac would have a problem with this guy, no way Vice can beat him and the soldiers.

He pushed his fist against the ground and stood, his fellow soldiers against a nearby wall with guns aiming at them. They had lost this battle and maybe, just maybe, it was their last.

"Come on-"

Fukubei froze in place. A sense of impending doom filled him as he looked around him, no one having noticed that it was as if the whole world was holding its breath for a moment, the calm before the storm.

"Look up." her message had been. He had no clue what she meant with that obviously coded transmission and he had absolutely thought of every possible explanation yet nothing really made sense. And then it dawned on him.

She can't be... She can't be that literal! he thought, shocked, as for the second time this day, he was scared.

But he did follow her command. Fukubei looked up, earning a few confused looks just before all hell broke loose.

-Moments earlier, outside of warehouse-

"So, obviously, am gonna cut the roof in half, jump into the warehouse and kick everyone's ass. Simple."

Alex looked at her as if she had grown a second head, "Cut the roof ... in half? With your sword?" he asked in disbelief. "Like ... horizontally?"

"It's simple, you take a katana, breathe in and then you simply cut. I was planning vertically but yeah, sure, horizontally is fine too." Vice said as she looked at her sword with a loving look in her eyes.

He had heard of crazier things happening when out at sea, hell he's SEEN crazier things, but to cut a roof in half with a katana? "Well whatever, once you make your entrance I'm gonna throw a couple smoke bombs so your people can escape, sound like a plan?" he said as he took out two metallic cylinders.

"Sounds great, you're awfully skilled for just a doctor though, aren't ya? she replied, eyeing those cylinders in Alexander's hands.

Then, Vice of the Revolutionaries stood across the warehouse and raised her beloved blade, Izanami, with the sun's rays reflecting on the cold metal.

"Awfully nice day to die, Doc!" she yelled as she jumped towards the roof, a devilish smile on her face. Nothing surpassed the thrill of a battle against the odds.

"Cleave!.. Izanami!"

Vice's blade separated the roof apart from the building with her blade as if it were like butter, the roof sliding off the building and falling to the floor. Many of the guards in the building yelled and screamed in shock, not knowing what was going on.

Alex chuckled a bit, "Well, no turning back now," He said as he ran forward "Hidden Gadgets:" He yelled as he tackle himself through the door, "Smoke Bomb Times 2!!!" He threw the two cylinders in his hands in a straight line, with them timed to go off right in the center of the crowd of enemies.

As the other rebels took this opportunity to escape, Alex proceeded to run up to the injured rebel Fukubei, "Are you ok? How's your condition?"

"W-who are you?" he asked

"I'm just a doctor." Alex said with a smirk as he looked up,"Well Vice, you're up!!!"

Vice didn't need her eyes to find her opponents, their yelling did the trick for her. In a single moment, she jumped right in the middle of a group of them holding her sword in one hand and its scabbard in the other, she was going for crowd control not a massacre.

"In 12 seconds you will all be down, in pain but alive. Even think about thinking of getting up and I will cut you in so many pieces even ants won't be able to find you."

Some of them cried, some raised their swords yet one thing they all had in common. Fear.

Vice felt respect for these soldiers, standing against the odds the same way she did before despite the fact that they had never trained in their lives as hard as she trained in a day.

The moment the last one touched the ground, Vice had already been sheathing her sword. She might have drawn blood but no one was dead or dying.

"These are not worthy foes."

As the smoke cleared, it showed Vice standing in the center of the floor surrounded by an assortment of unconscious or injured soldiers. "Didn't leave any for me?" Alex said before seeing what seemed to be an injured enemy soldier trying to escape. Alex took out of his bag was seemed to be some weird metal device which unfolded to reveal to be a small boomerang. "I'm sorry but I think you should get some rest." He said as he threw the boomerang, making it hit the soldier right in the back of the head, knocking him unconscious. "Doctors orders."

Alex looked back to the middle of the room to see Vice staring down the strong looking man, sword drawn. Alex then walked forward and stood behind Vice. "This guy seems a little tougher then those grunts. Need backup?"

Vice eyed the last man standing of her opponents and he looked way above the grunts they had just taken care of. She unsheathed her blade and stood between him and the escaping revolutionaries.

"Alexander?... This guy is way stronger than the rest. Perhaps stronger than me. I want you to think real hard about whether you want to stay or leave with the rest. Either way, I will cover the retreat." she whispered, dead serious. This guy beat Fukubei. He is no pushover she thought.

"And neither am I, I told you before that odds have never scared me before." Alex said as he reached behind his back and took out a strange looking boomerang. "My name is Alexander Storm, the Aboriginal." he told her as he got into a fighting stance.

"Feeling lucky today, punks?" the enemy said as he charged towards them.

CRASH

"Ah what the hell!"

As Claribel reached for the door, it burst open, losing a few splinters as it banged into the wall, hanging loose. A charge of brown uniformed men came to a halt, the lead gawking at Claribel and the boy before they poured out, their momentum disrupted.

Before she could get a word out, rifles were in hand, the lead man crying, "Who are you!? Why aren't you in Central for the speech!?" Eyes narrowing, he hissed, "You aren't a traitor or a rebel, are you?"

"H-huh? Speech? I don't care about any speech!"

"Don't just say it like that!" The green haired young boy at her side snarled.

"Seems like it," the lead soldier sighed, before a round of rifles were raised, muzzles jabbing out at Claribel and the boy, who shot her hands up. "It's be wise of you to come quietly."

Feeling the boy grab her leg, Claribel's shocked face became cocksure as she stated, "I'm not really good with 'quiet'." At that, he hand began to faintly glow white, pulsating.

Suddenly, there was another round of cocked rifles, echoing from the side. Jumping, the soldiers swung their rifles, aiming them at empty air. "Wh-what?"

Grabbing the boy by the collar, Claribel peeled out of there, the youngster crying out in shock as he was yanked along, unable to hear Claribel's light giggling.

The lead solider growled as she ran, ordering, "Any still in the Back District are to be considered traitors to the rule of Supreme Chancellor Dario Capper, and are to be arrest on sight! Move out!"

But as they did, a handful of other roads bustled with men, each with those same orders in their ears.

---

As the grunts lay defeated, Fukubei couldn't help but note, that after everything Vice had been doing the past few days...no, longer? Yet here she was, continuing her work. The drive in that girl was something else.

Not about to let himself get left completely in the dust, he looked to his men whom were in the process of escaping, looking back to see how he was doing. Fukubei cried, "The hell are you doing!? We've got a job here! If anyone leaves empty handed, I'm gonna...clip the tips your nails to the skin so they're really sensitive."

Determination rising, the men cried, "Yes sir!" Though some were carting wounded, those still in decent shape were able to grab some of the supplies they'd been sent to retrieve, Fukubei hoisting up one whole crate with his good arm. As he escaped, he wanted to look over his shoulder one more time at Vice and her new accomplice, but if he failed, her efforts would have been in vain. He continued to thunder forwards into the Back District, hoping for the best.

---

However, the Back District was now in chaos, with both soldiers and scummy types alike running every which way. The hapless homeless and wayward innocents were caught up as well, either being bowled over or outright arrested.

In one alley...

A man with reddish brown hair, wearing a white vest with a pair of long thin knives at his hip, chugged a bottle of booze, wiping his lip, before saying, "Hey, Hansky, doesn't spilling blood get the blood flowing?"

Kicking over a fallen soldier, a dirty blonde man with a white coat over a sleeveless shirt and shorts had his hands in his pockets, laughed, "You're a dummy, Dansky, who cares about that! We gotta find 'base'. You know where 'base' is?"

Dansky tossed his bottle aside, letting it shatter and foam as he realized, "Oh, like tag!"

Hansky nodded, "Oh yeah, tag! Keheh. I guess these chumps are 'it'."

"I like this kind of tag better! Whenever I got tagged I always wanted to kill the ass who did it!" Dansky sneered.

Hansky gasped, "Even me!?"

Dansky blinked, before claiming, "Uh, no." As Hansky sighed in relief, Dansky cried, "Let's just get going bro!"

Cackling, the two scoundrels made their way.

---

In another alley...

"What's even going on!?"

Stuck under Claribel's arm as she ran, the boy whined, but Claribel only seemed amused by something or other.

Suddenly, she stopped, turning to run down a side path just as a few soldiers began to come from where she was going. The boy cried, "What's wrong with you!?"

"It's too noisy! There's gotta be somewhere quiet though." Stopping, she glanced over at a warehouse with a broken roof, but there were a few men hoisting crates moving out. Shaking her head, Claribel said, "Nope" and continued to move along.

After crossing a few more paths, the boy stated firmly, "You're weird."

"You love it," Claribel grinned. Bolting down one alleyway, she kept going, moving towards two shamblers.

"Oh, what's this, Dansky?"

"Looks like a girl, Hansky..."

As the two stepped to intercept Claribel's path menacingly, she skidded to a stop. The boy moaned, "Now what?"

"Think she knows where base is?" the white coat wearing Hansky wondered.

Dansky replied, "We could ask nicely!"

"Aw that never works."

"Shush!" Turning to Claribel, Danksy asked, "You know where base is?"

Claribel shrugged. "See, told ya!" Hansky said.

Scratching his chin, Dansky began, "Hey, wait, what if this girl is trying to find base too?"

"Huh, I didn't see no girl back there..."

"Well, if she is, that means she's a rival! And we're supposed to use both our brains and brawns here, so, if we have less competition..."

"It'll be even easier! That's what I'm talkin' about!"

"Ugh, so annoying..."

The boy gulped, "Hey, you aren't gonna fight them, are you!?" Without answering, Claribel placed him down, before shoving him a bit, scooting him along, letting him take some refuge behind a low wall. Reaching to her back, she grabbed her iron rod, holding it to her side, the tip getting close to the ground.

Drawing his long, thin knives, Dansky shuffled forwards, laughing, "What're you gonna do with that stick of yours?"

Gravel shifting at her feet, Claribel moved her footing before thrusting her weapon out. Dansky intercepted, blocking it with each of his knives, but was pushed back a step. As Claribel reset her position, Dansky growled, before moving forwards again. Once more, Claribel shifted her footing, thrusting her weapon out again. Dansky tried to sidestep it, but there was a clang of metal against metal, and once more he was pushed back.

Hanksky laughed, "What're ya doing, idiot?"

Gritting his teeth, Dansky twitched forwards, and Claribel shifted her feet once more, followed by the sound of her rod thrusting forwards through the air. Dansky raised his weapons, and there was a sound of metal against metal.

"What're ya doing, idiot?" Hansky laughed, quieter this time.

Dansky snarled, "I'm...huh?"

Claribel finally shot her weapon forwards, jamming it past Dansky's weapons and into his chest. This time he flew backwards, rolling end over end before landing in a heap, coughing and hacking.

Hanksy blinked, looking between Claribel and his fallen brother before muttering, "Th-that sounded like me..."

"Heeheehee."

Watch the hand behind her black, pulsing faint white light, the boy noted, "It's happening again..."

Growling, Dansky charged again, stating, "She's doing something weird!" Stabbing both his knives out, Claribel stepped back, waving her rod, deflecting each stab. Arms wide, Dansky stabbed from both sides, so Claribel grabbed her rod with both hands, twirling it, each end smacking one of Dansky's wrists, blocking him once more. As he tried to recover, Claribel pulled back her rod, jabbing him in the stomach, making him squeal, hopping back.

Teeth bared, Dansky snarled, "Stop messing with me!" Swapping the grip on his knife, he swung it downwards, aiming to stab her foot. Claribel moved out of the way, but her focus was now towards the ground. A movement from above made her look up, but it was too late: a gray brick smashed into her face, shattering, Claribel being knocked to the ground.

As Dansky stood, grinning, Hansky flexed his fingers, before reaching to the wall of the run down building nearby, ripping off another brick and tossing it into the air, before catching it again. As the young boy looked on in horror, Hansky laughed, "Wanna off the brat too while we're at it?"

Twirling his knife, Dansky shrugged, "Eh, why not?"

The boy shuddered, looking to run away, but there was a shifting sound. He gasped, "Ah! You're alive!"

Claribel stood, her usual carefree expression gone, replaced with a displeased glower, a cut on her forehead leaking blood over part of her face. Calmly, she walked over to Dansky, who gritted his teeth before aiming to stab her.

Claribel's rod struck him across the face. Dansky crashed down into the pavement below, an indent visible on his face. Hansky gawked, before raising his arm, chucking yet another brick at her. With a swing of her arm, Claribel redirected it to the ground.

Stalking forwards menacingly, Claribel began, "I could have done that any time, but I wanted to have a little fun first. To be honest though, you guys are so blatantly evil with your threats to that kid that it's just boring." Hansky raised his arm to throw a brick, which was followed by the sound of one sailing threw the air. Then, there was a clatter as the brick in his hand hit the ground, Hanky looking between it and her in confusion.

"And being boring is even worse." Hansky quickly ripped two more bricks from the wall, raising them to block as Claribel brandished her rod.

Stopping suddenly, Claribel turned as Dansky ran into her. While she'd hopped away a bit, he still collided, the two smashing through the already shattered window to the broken down building, the pair vanishing into the darkness. There was the sound of metal clanging against metal as Hansky watched nervously. Then, the sound of a punch, and a bit of scuffling, before Dansky cried, "Throw! Throw! Throw!"

Using the sound as a guide, Hansky tossed a brick, hearing the thump against flesh. However, for the second one, he hesitated, until Dansky said once more, "Throw! Throw! Throw!"

Grinning, Hansky grabbed another brick as he threw his second one. In a flurry of clay dust, Hansky gradually dismantled the wall, tossing each brick, the echoes of clay against clay and clay against flesh sounding like music to his ears.

Finally, he calmed down, his fingers cut lightly and bleeding, most bricks within arm reach snatched up. As he caught his breath, he heard footsteps head to the nearby door. As Dansky came out, he grinned, "Showed that bitch what wa-"

Dansky collapsed to the ground. As Hansky looked on in horror, he noticed that among his wounds was a good amount of gray dust and bits of brick.

Twirling her rod casually, Claribel stepped out afterwords, giggling, "Overkill much?" Hansky's jaw reached for the ground, while his eyes bulged in horror, a strangled whimper squeaking out of his mouth.

A bit frustrated, the boy demanded, "What are you!?"

Claribel grinned, "Well, since it's over..." Raising her hand, it began to glow again as she explained, "I ate the Echo Echo Fruit, so I'm an Echo Human now. That means I'm made of Echoes! Just kidding~ But I can control sounds now. Like just now when I made it sound like Dansky was telling Hanksy to throw, even though he was hitting Dansky. Oh, but Dansky kept yelling for him to stop, at least at first, but I can also 'move' sound, so I moved his screaming and crying away from the window and wall so Hansky wouldn't hear as long as he was making noise too, like with all the bricks. I can also do both at the same time, like earlier with the soldiers!"

The boy stared, before claiming, "Weirdo."

"You love it." Turning to the speechless Hansky, she declared, "You don't."

As he let out a frightened squeal, Claribel charged. Hansky tried to run, feet getting tangled together, screams of fright escaping his mouth, but Claribel caught up easily, grabbing onto his collar.

A couple dozen strikes of an iron rod later, Hansky was bruised and bleeding on the ground while Claribel and the kid continued on their way.

The boy couldn't help but wonder, "But why didn't the brick hurt you that much? Did you block it with sound?"

"I just have a hard head."

"Is that why you're so dense..." the boy muttered under his breath. Claribel's fist bopped him on the head, prompting him to cry, "Ow, what did I do!?"

"Did I mention my hearing is hella good? Because it is, heeheehee."

As the boy grumbled, Claribel began to jog, leading the way as they tried to find safety.

A Collaberation between Hillan and Pacifista.

Back District, a short while ago

Pair going deeper into the district through its many alleys, things were rather quiet. Kohl in particular seemed to be trying to speak, fidgeting a bit, but saying nothing, before eventually seeming to give up, keeping single eyed gaze forwards.

Chester strolled along with Kohl, in one hand he carried the currently half-full bottle of rum, and the other was positioned on his shoulder, holding onto a strap that his backpack was attached to. Out of the pack one could see the cloth-covered form of his katana being janked down the bag. While obviously intoxicated, Chester's ability to walk seemed to be mostly unaffected, as he could walk straight and notice his surroundings with little problem as the duo strolled down the road.

After a short while, a figure appeared on the lip of a building, before dropping down. Standing tall at almost eight feet in his long, dark coat, Mott looked over the two and nodded, before greeting, "Well, I believe that's almost everyone." Pointing his finger at the path ahead, he said, "A right, then a left, if you would." With a hop, he returned to the rooftop, before slinking out of sight. Kohl watched him go, before letting out an impatient sigh.

"He said forward and then left, right?" Chester asked, taking a swig from his bottle, his question was drenched in alcohol induced sarcasm, as he headed towards the path that the guy in the coat had suggested, Kohl following along wordlessly. Chester was slightly curious to find out where the guy had gone, but that was a thought for another time.

Turns taken, the duo's destination was quite clear, as they lumped up with roughly a dozen men, mulling about a short, wide stretch of road, each of them somewhere on a sliding scale of shady to grimy and everywhere in between. At the head of the pack, Mott stood, nodding, before waving everyone forwards as he began to walk at the lead of the imposing group.

Mott began to speak, words carrying to the others, "So, you've made is this far, but we've yet to really begin. Your task will be quite simple: all you must do is reach 'base'. Be warned though, as it will take brains and brawn to manage."

Two of the others in the group spoke up: "Huh, what's he talkin' about, Dansky?" "Be quiet! We haven't started yet! I guess."

"Base? The heck's a base?" Chester spoke up, turning to Kohl for a moment. "You got any clue what he's on about?" Kohl shook his head, Chester chuckled. "Course you wouldn't. Stay here, I'mma try and find out." He said, walking straight forward, when the burly thugs ahead were blocking the way, Chester scoffed, swigging from his stiff drink as he walked straight through the crowd, making his way to Mott.

Just as Chester reached him, Mott came to a stop, not paying him any mind. From the path ahead came the sounds of footsteps as another group approached. At the front was a bulky man in a white suit, several scars on his person. As he came within a few meters of Mott, he and his band came to a stop. Looking over Mot's group, he sneered, "What, you bring all them to carry the stuff, right? 'Cause I'm not seeing any of that medicine."

We were supposed to bring medicine? Chester thought in response, he leaned backwards and dropped his bang down into his hand, for easy access to his weapon.

An eye on his wristwatch, Mott was quiet for a moment, before he began, "I'm afraid the deal has been called off. We're no longer interested in transaction with your people.

Eye twitching, the leader growled, "What was that!?"

"Our brief partnership has ended."

The was muttering from both sides. From a few men back, Kohl managed to say, "Th-then what are we doing here?" Another asked, "You didn't bring us here to fight, did you?"

Better not have. Chester thought.

As the other group shuffled, as if to prepare, Mott, eyes still on his wrist, chortled, "Oh, heavens no! I've already given you your instruction." With a brief salute, he bid, "Good luck." Striding away, eyes followed as he casually slipped in between two buildings, heading off.

The leader of the other side, blinked, before grumbling, "Shit, now someone's gonna have to die."

He took a step forwards, before there was a thundering of steps and the sound of doors bursting open. From in between the two groups and behind each of them came more than two dozens of men in brown, each brandishing rifles. There was a series of clicks as even more were pointed out of the windows from above.

"Halt!" ordered one of the island's soldiers, "You are all under arrest!"

The doors flung open, the island soldiers all came around, it was a sting. Was a Don really one to work with the law like that? Seemed unlikely. Mott must have done this against the Don's wishes, Chester figured. He had to respect that, after all. But instead of trying to fight, Chester did what he did best, he faded into one of the walls, and decided to head after Mott, he didn't appreciate being setup.

Tramping through the alleyways, Mott grinned, head swerving as he scanned for potential threats. All about the district, soldiers (and perhaps mercenaries, if Mott's intel was correct) were active, fighting anyone they laid eyes on. Turning, Mott hopped over a low fence, he continued to watch his surroundings, checking front, left, right and back, but as he turned his head back forward again, he thought he saw something in the corner of his eye, stopping, he turned full-body to the right, scratching his bald head, before turning around again, where he was met by the almost equally tall form of the young man who he had met before.

The sudden appearance of Chester scared the man senseless, as he let out a surprised high-pitched cry, as he fell backwards on his behind. Panting for a second he tried to catch his breath. Chester looked at him and calmly took a swig from his bottle that was now just about empty. "Sup." Was the only greeting Chester gave.

Mott climbed back onto his feet "Oh, you're the kid! What are you doing here?"

"Well.. I really wanted to ask you where the heck this 'base' place is. But now, I feel like you might've tried to set me and the other guys up." Chester said, taking another mouthful of alcohol, before giving out a sad sigh, turning the bottle upside down, showing there was nothing left.

Mott's face tightened in frustration for a moment, before he explained, "It's a test you nimrod!" The sounds of soldier's footesteps hustling on the other side of some wall went by, and once it faded, Mott hissed, "And don't follow me!"

Mott dashed away before Chester could completely register what he had said, but once he did, he soon caught back up with him, popping out of a wall next to Mott while the two were still running, he tapped the man on the shoulder. " I'm here to repay my debt, not do some stupid test, and besides. Don't proctors watch over the testee's, not running away like a snitch?"

Mott slid to a stop, glaring at Chester before sneering, "I don't care if you live or die! But if you say one more word, it'll be the latter."

Chester stopped in his tracks right behind Mott, the older man clearly annoyed. Yet, with his threat, it only brough up one emotion within Chester. Glee.. "Word." Was his comeback, as he hunched down and unveiled the cloth from the handle of the katana, drawing it in a exact motion towards Mott, slashing towards the taller man with a diagonal angle.

Eyes widening, Mott raised his arm, the blade clashing against it, a sound of metal against metal clanging out. Grimacing, he hopped back, wincing as he shook the struck arm, along with his other, before two rods slipped out. Slapping them together, he brandished a short spear, hissing, "Your debt be damned: you'll be paying it in your blood!" Pointing his spear to Chester he...bolted off once more.

Ready for Mott's attack, Chester was taken by surprise by Mott running off, in fact, so surprised that he didn't follow him this time, despite seeing where was heading. Instead, he sat down and began laughing, it started as a slight chuckle, but quickly errupted into a heartfelt abdominal muscle-training laughing season. "BWAHAHA, Guy's more of a chickenshit than I am!" Chester cried while holding his side laughing, tears forming in his eyes from the laughing.

Stopping a few meters away, Mott stopped, stamping his foot as he snarled, "You were supposed to follow me you..." Vein throbbing in his forehead, he raised his hand, before grabbing the collar of his coat, before running it down, releasing each of the buttons, unveiling an undershirt, black pants, and within the innards of his coat, a number of matching short spears. Reaching for another one, he held them at the ready, when from behind Chester, a troup of soldiers arrived, raising their rifles as they cried, "Stop right there!"

Still laughing and wiping tears out of his eyes, he barely even noticed the two front-war that was about to be launched on him. Well, untill the soldiers shouted. "Hehe.. Chickenshit.." He said, now with a tired grin on his face from all the laughing. "Is there a officer, problem?.. I mean- Screw it." He rambled to the officers, before the sunk into the building below them, down to the floor below the roof, someone's house. It was one heck of a mess. Grabbing a bottle of beer that they had on the counter, he opened it before he quickly dashed to the other side, and jumped up through the roof again, appearing just behind Mott, now with his sword resting on his shoulder, and the beer in his hand. "This is where I would ask what was up, doctor. But, I don't think you practice medicine."

Sweating a bit, Mott looked between Chester and the soldiers, frozen a bit in confusion at what they had witnessed. "You little-"

"Fire!"

As rifles were raised, Mott shot his two spears out, each of them embedding themselves into a solider. As the others shot, Mott rolled to the side, drawing another pair, before chucking one at Chester.

Chester turned the bottle upside down between his lips as the soldiers fired at Mott, whom seemingly rather easily could dodge. Before Chester could finish the bottle, Mott threw a spear at him, Chester dodged to the side, but upsetting for him, his beer wasn't so lucky. With the hobs flavored alcohol spilled on the rooftop, Chester got annoyed.

The spear was impaled in the wall behind Chester, and thus he turned around and grabbed the spear, chucking it back at Mott. With a wave of his other spear, it was knocked aside, clattering on the ground. Mott retrieved it, before charging at Chester, crying, "Run from this!"

Chester froze in place as Mott charged at him, the spear piercing his upper abdomen, and hitting the wall behind him. He made a shocked facial expression, and opened his eyes widely, before shutting them and having his head go limp on his shoulders. A second later, a grin crept up on his face, revealing that the spear had gone through him. Looking up at Mott, he smiled, his eyes sunken in from the booze and still slightly red from the previous laughter induced crying.

".. You really don't get what I can do.. Do you?" Chester asked Mott, as he took a big step forward, walking straight through Mott.

Head over his shoulder, glaring, Mott sputtered, drawing out his spear and stabbing the wall repeatedly, snarling in frustration as he ripped a section of it apart. Standing straight, he turned to face Chester, crying, "I'll stab you a million times if I have to! You can't stay...like...that, forever!"

Gawking, one of the remaining soldiers gestured incredulously, muttering, "Who the hell are these..."

A more senior one demanded, "Aim carefully..." They raised their rifles and waited while Mott continued to seeth at Chester, not making a move.

While Mott was waiting for Chester to do something, the man turned towards the soldiers for one second, "Oh shit. You guys are still here?" Chester asked, quickly turning his attention back to Mott, he had to make a move here, he couldn't stay like this forever, despite what he would like everyone else to believe. Becoming tangible again he drew his sword in a swift motion to lock the blade of the weapon with Mott. Not how he usually fought, but Chester used both hands on the katana to get a steadier hold and to be able to match the older man's grip.

He heard the bullets get fired from behind him, and instantly shifted, allowing the bullets to pass throug him, and hit Mott in the shoulder, sending the man down onto the floor. Chester looked at the soldiers, than at Mott, and then back again. "Dude. I swear, I didn't even dodge that time, they missed!"

Flailing on the ground, Mott roared, voice cracking, "I HATE YOU SO MUCH I'M GOING TO THROW UP!"

"Y-You want a drink to swallow all that anger?"

"AHHHHHHHHHHH!" Mott shrieked, eyes twitching and the vein in his forehead looking like it was about to burst. Mouth open, a glob of blood coughed out, landing on the roof, before his body went limp, eyes rolling up, pupils vanishing.

"I-I think he's knocked out cold." Chester remarked, turning to the soldiers. Yelling, "Hey, guys! I think he's out cold!" He continued "Why did you shoot him? He was clearly having a pretty rough day."

The younger soldier looked at his superior. "Uh.. Sir. What do we do?"

Eyes glazing over, his expression clearly tired, the older one said, voice hollow, "You get off this time."

The third one shrugged, "I don't think the cuffs would work anyway."

"Wait, really, you're not gonna chase me or nothing? Remind me to buy you lot a round at the pub later."

Laughter ceasing, pain erupting in Chester's side, another spatter of blood hit the ground.
Noticing the piece of metal poking out of his lower chest, right under his ribs, he looked down on the oddly pleased face of Mott. "That's not funny." Chester began, groaning. "That's not funny at all."

As Chester stumbled away, Mott let his fingers slip from his spear, clattering to the ground. Pointing a finger, eyes bloodshot, he laughed, "AAAH HAH! Gotchagotyagotagota! AHAHAHAHA! Gribuckedyoulil-EHEHEHEHEHEHE!" As the man gibbered, his breath came short, and his mouth began to foam, his face gleeful as he slipped back, bald head thumping onto the rooftop, laying still.

Chester pulled the spearhead out of his torso with a groan, tossing it on the ground. Looking at the head, he thought about it. "Motty, I don't think you got me more than a fleshwound. A stiff drink and I'll be good as new. It could do you some go-" He stopped himself, while looking at the passed out man. "Then again, maybe you'd prefer to rest a bit."

Digging into his bag, he found a rag to use to pressure the wound to stop the bleeding. "Wait, crap! I forgot to ask him where I was supposed to go."

Walking back over the Mott, he delivered a swift kick to his ribs, prompting the unconcious man to cough up more blood. "Shit, he's completely out." Turning to the guards, he whistled. "You guys don't happen to know anything about a.. Base?"

Staring, the older guard pointed off, blurting, "Er, there's an old base in the Back District, that way."

"Two rounds for you." Chester said, waving the guard off. "Oh yeah, and I think this guy is like super criminal. You might wanna arrest him, maybe." Finishing up with the soldiers he was heading off in the way the soldier had pointed to find the base.