Jinchuu - [R4] [Cut] Most Dangerous Game

Description: Badly injured by Hiretsu, Soma emerges from the belly of the Suiryuu with a plan. Fighting down blood loss and fatigue, he steals onto the adjacent Black Noah with one purpose: to ask Rugal Bernstein what the hell the Ryouhara have that's worth stealing. Although he doesn't get the answers he expected, the detective does manage to learn some very interesting tidbits... and even escapes with his life. For now.



This has not been Soma's night.

His confrontation with the Suiryuu Director of Operations did not go well, and that much is an understatement of the year. The front of the ICPO agent's jacket is slashed pretty heavily, so much that he gave up on keeping it buttoned; the midriff-height coat flaps open in the sea breeze, revealing the shoulder holster and gun underneath it... as well as the tight grey shirt underneath, stained dark red with Soma's blood. The ninja totally outclassed his opponent, leaving him to recover in the depths of the ship... and to think about his next step.

A step which became painfully obvious as he worked his way up the decks. Ryouhara crew and R soldiers alike gave him no berth, and if they did a quick and brutal reprisal from the injured and angry Soma was enough to leave them behind. Yes... Rugal Bernstein. A seeker of power with a very specific interest in the Suiryuu. If he's going to unlock the secrets of the tournament, then it's past time to find out why the 'R' Organization's leader was *so* interested he dusted off the Black Noah and laid siege to the People's Ship.

But how to get there...

A splashing in the sea below off the Suiryuu's hull is the opportunity. Looking down, Soma notices a boat that must have just delivered a crew of invading soldiers... and with only one pilot remaining to drag it back to the Black Noah. Seizing the opportunity (and risking further injury), the Detective in Black leaps from the side of the Suiryuu, landing in the boat by quite handily bouncing OFF the soldier's head, a sudden acrobatic midair kick sending the R soldier into the drink. The poor man surfaces to find Soma's Beretta M92FS pointed right at his head. "If you're nice, you can tread water there until someone comes to get you. If you're not I can just shoot you can get it over with. Your choice."

The poor man is still dog-paddling as Soma speeds his boat back toward the Black Noah's lower launch bay. Time to get some answers.

The boats carrying the soldiers over to assault the Suiryuu are coming out of a sea level built in harbor in the Black Noah's hull. There are actually multiple such bays up and down the length of the massive ship, and where Rugal planning an invasion of a small country and had the man power to do so, they might all be operational this night. But 'R' doesn't have /that/ kind of manpower any more, and the Suiryuu is far from being a small country even if it is packing enough energy to /power/ one at this point.

Thus it is that only one such bay is actually in use at this time, its massive, steel doors in an open position. Two small docks line the sides of the harbor. Perfect for piling into the motor boats that have been moving back and forth from the boat of the Ryouhara. With /most/ of the men being sent over already aboard the Suiryuu, the flow of traffic to and from the Black Noah has slowed down some. Typically there's just a few boats coming back with injured men who are too out of comission to be of any further use in the assault.

There is a light troop presence within the bay itself, but the only real threat to Soma getting further into the guts of the carrier is a tough guy standing guard at a hatch a little ways further in. Compared to the men helping man/load/unload the boats, he's a real beast. One of Rugal's elites. Like many of those aboard the boat, he hasn't used his real name in years but the boys call him Shreader. Equipped with the standard issue 'R' soldier load out, he's bearing weapons of all kinds. Rifle, shotgun, pistols, knives, grenades... Add to that he's a tough fighter in his own right. And presently, he's guarding the hatch out of the bay into the rest of the aging carrier.

Considering the degree to which the ICPO considers Rugal and his organization a threat to human liberty and decency, the Black Noah's relative dearth of people and somewhat lacking upkeep comes as a surprise to Soma, who stays armed as he slips through the hallways and byways. It's remarkable how an individual who's supposed to be a servant of the law is so very expert at the ways in which people break it; so far during the Jinchuu experience, he's broken security equipment, neutralized guards, picked locks, and done a HALO drop onto a moving sea vessel.

It really is true what they say: the first time you kill is momentous, but after that it gets unnervingly easy.

However, stealth only gets you so far. In a way sneaking is the art of using people's blind spots... but this isn't Metal Gear, and some thrown porn or a knock on a distant door aren't going to get Soma past this particular guard, who is simply too alert and, if his empathy is right, aggressive and maybe even angry. There is something about his bearing that suggests to the ICPO agent that there's two ways through that door, and a dead body is involved in both. The question simply becomes whose body it is.

So while he doesn't want to do it -- and the aching pain in his still-recovering chest from Hiretsu's direct and brutal show of force contributes quite powerfully to that -- the detective has no choice but to step out into the open and face the guard. There doesn't seem to be a lot of time left... and getting answers out of Rugal Bernstein is going to be hard enough as-is.

The Fighting Novelist keeps his gun trained on the guard as he approaches slowly, though this is mostly for show; the human arsenal facing him most certainly is better armed, and it's unlikely Soma could take a trained fighter in one shot, even in perfect health. "I'm going to dispense with the pleasantries and just tell you to get the hell out of my way. You're going to ignore me, I'm sure, but I figured I'd give you the one shot to actually show some sense and do what I ask."

The Black Noah harkens back to a time when bigger was better. Bigger planes, bigger tanks, bigger bombs, and yes, bigger ships. But those decades are gone. Information is power now. Hard drives, networks, knowledge. That's how the types of wars Rugal is interested are run this day and age. While most of the old carrier has not kept up with the changing times, the parts that matter to Bernstein have. The bridge of this ship is packed with the latest in technology. Literally tapping into nearly every data stream in existence, it's from there that modern 'warfare' is fought. The rest of the vessel is mostly for show. Except when it comes to times like these... Sometimes old fashion show of force is what it takes to get the job done.

The hatch barring entry to the rest of the boat has been approached by a variety of people throughout the night. Most of them part of 'R' but a few who aren't. There's a couple refuges from the Suiryuu that belong to groups other than 'R' that have also been allowed through that door. Unfortunately, Soma isn't one of them. As the agent approaches, gun drawn, the 6'8" tall man standing guard simply glares back. The M-16 knockoff multi-purposed assault rifle in his hands doesn't lift to point at Soma at first. The agent already has a gun trained on him after all. "Well, you sure picked the wrong ship to get on," the man grunts back, looking unimpressed. The body armor over his chest is probably going to take a lot of the sting out of any bullets but there's always the head shot approach, perhaps. "Unfortunately, we're not taking on passangers right now."

Only then does he raise that rifle and three shots fire off from the muzzle of the gun, one after the other. His accuracy is top notch, targeting exposed skin rather than taking a chance that Soma is likewise wearing a bullet proof vest.

COMBATSYS: Invader has started a fight here.

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Invader          0/-------/-------|


COMBATSYS: Soma has joined the fight here.

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Invader          0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0             Soma


COMBATSYS: Invader successfully hits Soma with Strong Shot.

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Invader          0/-------/-------|=------\-------\0             Soma


Amazingly... bullets aren't half as bad as Hiretsu's kodachi at point-blank range. That doesn't mean they don't still hurt like a bitch, however. Soma attempts to twist out of the way, but at the same time... it is an assault rifle, and even a fighter's greater than average speed isn't 100% reliable in dodging bullets. Two sink into Soma's side as he attempts to twist out of the way; a third strikes him between his left shoulder and his chest, and *that* draws a sharp hiss of inhaled air.

Soma... is not in the mood for playing with underlings right now.

He reholsters his gun and throws out his arm with a speed that belies his failure to duck out of the way of those bullets, and his normally sardonic but amused expression has become very angry; in fact, a certain degree of the Indian-British accent of his childhood sneaks in past his typical Americanized speaking voice as he moves. "Too damn bad," the detective snarls, a wire-dagger slipping into his hand and the whip-like blade cutting a silver arc through the air as he seeks to at least get that assault rifle out of the man's hands.

COMBATSYS: Invader blocks Soma's Saturnalia.

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Invader          0/-------/------=|=------\-------\0             Soma


The dagger that comes flying in actually does its job in knocking the rifle out of the hands of this road block in the agent's path, but he was actually releasing his hold on it at the same time, so the actual recoil from the strike doesn't affect the man much at all. But he had a shoulder strap on with that rifle, so even when free of his grip, it just goes back to hanging against his side. He leaves it there for now.

"What do you think you're going to accomplish here?" the grunt laughs with a shake of his head. The idea that the smaller man might pose a threat to him doesn't seem to have registered quite yet. "You can't just march on board and take over a boat like this, you know."

When he comes at Soma next it's without any great fanfare or weapons at all. Rather, he basically tries to tackle the agent with a grunt of "Dumb bastard," just before the lunge meant to take the pest down to the floor so that he can start beating the hell out of him.

COMBATSYS: Soma endures Invader's Brutal Takedown.

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Invader          0/-------/------=|===----\-------\0             Soma


It all goes off without a hitch. In fact it almost goes down *too well*. It's not like Soma bothered to get out of the way, after all... he just sort of stands there and gets tackled, going down under the man's tackle and taking that savage beating. Why? Because this is an opponent with the barest of training. He knows how to hit but not where... and Soma is a practitioner of a fighting style that emphasizes both to the nth degree.

Case in point: the Indian's dusky-skinned face looks up at 'Shreader' with a wide grin even as he's getting punched, a silver-black glow forming around his hands as he summons his Psycho Power-formed daggers. "The hell I can't," he says, in an almost singsong lilt, before bringing his arms up and attempting to drive those knives right into the man's *head*. Obviously, as non-physical forms they're not about to carve his brains out... but you'd be amazed how useful a psychological tactic aiming an attack for someone's eyes can be.

COMBATSYS: Soma successfully hits Invader with Gemini.

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Invader          0/-------/---====|===----\-------\0             Soma


Getting Soma down to the floor of the hall was easy. Dealing with what comes next, on the other hand, not so much. For the man, this is a first. He's been chi blasted before. These days, who hasn't? But what Soma strikes with... no, this has definitely not happened before. The pain that courses through him gets him to back off, falling over backward into a roll and coming up in a crouch, both of his large hands pressing against the sides of his head, his eyes squinted shut.

Teeth gritted, he wastes no time speaking now. His hands reach to two sheathes in his belt, one on each side. If Soma wants to play with daggers, this guy has a few of his own and he's pretty profficient with them too. When he comes tearing toward the intruder this time it's with two swift swings, aiming to stick Soma in his side and stomach. "Looks like you know something about pain - time to show you my own brand!"

COMBATSYS: Soma dodges Invader's Random Weapon.

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Invader          0/-------/---====|===----\-------\0             Soma


Soma may not look fast, but he has impressive foot speed when it counts. As the guard lunges at him with each blade, he ducks quickly from side to side... but his defensive moves keep him *inside* the other man's guard, which is a much more difficult feat than it sounds, since rather than simply backing out of range, you need to keep two sets of footwork in your perception. Of course, it doesn't hurt that the disorienting aftereffects of psychic energy may be affecting the other man's reaction time.

As he swings around from the second of the strikes aimed for his already-battered body, the ICPO agent makes a motion with his right hand, curling in his ring and pinky fingers, leaving his index and middle extended... and with unnerving swiftness, he strikes forward at the guard's neck, aiming for one of the lesser pressure points on the human body. There's no lasting physical mark if it connects, but there IS a nice, sharp burst of pain as a result. "If you're interested in pain, I know a few unconventional methods you can try... but you might not like them."

COMBATSYS: Invader interrupts Medium Throw from Soma with Break The Rules.

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Invader          0/-------/---====|=====--\-------\0             Soma


Unfortunately for Soma, the larger man is counting on him staying in tight. That's just where he likes people. He's not as much a gun fanatic as most of his peers. Shooting someone... that's so detatched. So distant. He likes to get right in there and feel the encounter up close, and with Soma aiming to strike a pressure point with pin-point accuracy, Shreader has his chance.

The problem with pressure points is that if the strike is even slightly off the result can be quite disappointing. The 'R' guard's head lowers, leaving Soma simply pointing his fingers against his forehead for a brief instant before the man really tears into him. Those twin knives are brought forward again with a crossing slash across the agent's chest before they're reversed and brought back the way they came in a stabbing motion rather than slashing.

Finally, the man applies a palm strike against Soma's chest, intentding to send him sliding right back down the hall away from the very hatch he's trying to get passage through. "You're one of those kinds that has a hard time learning that No Trespassing means No Trespassing, aren't you. You got ten seconds go jump back in the ocean before I'll be forced to break you."

There is an actual, perhaps satisfying (for the guard) streak of red as the knives open barely-closed wounds and the ICPO agent is forced back a number of steps, clutching a dark hand to his bleeding chest with a hiss of pain. Of course he's going to aim for already-injured areas. It's a tactically sound maneuver, and the amount of pain Soma appears to be in is a testament to that.

This approach has its flaws, however.

His violet eyes narrow, and the detective fixes that gaze on the guard, reaching out with senses both mundane and supernatural, trying to find what makes him tick. He fights a certain way, and that fighting style is in the man's mindset. If Soma can find it, emulate it, understand it... well, then victory is a much closer thing that you might think. There is even, for a brief second, a flicker of silver-black in the depths of the purple irises for a fraction of a second.

In a blur of movement, Soma's own daggers, with their bizarre custom shape, drop out of his sleeves and into his hands, held blade backwards. The man's entire *stance* changes, and his voice is low and terrible as he growls out his response. "Greater men than you have tried and failed. And I'm through playing. Get the hell out of my way!"

COMBATSYS: Soma focuses on his next action.

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Invader          0/-------/---====|=====--\-------\0             Soma


The brute blocking Soma's path merely chuckles. Oblivious to exactly what it is that courses through the agent. The blades that slip into Soma's hands are observed and Shreader's mouth curls into a confident smirk. "You say you're done playing, but right now it looks like you want to play my game. Well, suit yourself. You had your chance to leave on your own... When I'm done with you, the only way you'll be leaving now is out with the rest of the garbage when they're done scraping you off the walls!"

Another reckless charge, the man bearing in on Soma with lethal intent. Those two knives are still tightly gripped in his hands, now slick with a little of the agent's own blood. But when he gets in close, he releases one of them, allowing it to drop to the floor so that he can reach out and try to grab hold of that torn shirt of Soma's and hold him in place... If he pulls it off, what will come next would be a flurry of slashes, stabs, gashes, intermixed with punches, backfists, and other painful strikes.

COMBATSYS: Invader successfully hits Soma with Savage Beatdown.

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Invader          0/-------/--=====|=======\-------\0             Soma


Soma had *hoped* to get out of the way, but his fatigue and injuries are slowing him down, bravado or no. He tries to quickstep out of the way but it's not far enough to prevent the grab, and his already-tattered shirt is pretty close to a writeoff now... never mind the man's wounds just getting more and more serious. If he wants to get to Rugal, the ICPO agent had better produce a miracle turnaround... and do it pretty damned soon.

However, the guard didn't try to put the man *out* in one shot... and that, perhaps, is a mistake. Taking a cue from the mindset he's so recently 'borrowed' from the Shreader, Soma pivots on his heel and, at point blank range, thrusts forward with one dagger, the point glowing with a nimbus of silver-black. He's not looking to stab any deeper than the surface of a nerve cluster somewhere around the torso... but if the finger-delivered nerve strike could have been bad, one delivered with a *knife* -- an an accompanying burst of Psycho Power -- is going to be a hell of a lot worse.

COMBATSYS: Soma successfully hits Invader with Sagittarius.
- Power hit! -

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Invader          1/-----==/=======|=======\-------\1             Soma


It's to be expected that the victim would strike back during the assault. Shreader can handle that. He's not afraid of a single stab wound from a man who hasn't long to live. His own body is riddled with scars from such triffling injuries incurred in the past. So when Soma strikes out he does nothing to avoid it, thinking it irrelevant...

And that's where he would be wrong. The single shallow stab and accompanying blast of power sends the 'R' guard flying back, crashing against the very sealed hatch he's supposed to protect, before he slumps down to the floor, writhing from the after effects of such a powered hit. Teeth clench tightly and sweat pours over his face as one hand presses tightly against the point of impact. There is the faintest sign of fear in his eyes now. That cold realization that Soma might just be packing enough power to do him in... /Maybe/.

When he pushes himself back up slowly against the metal hatch, the man shakes his head slowly, his eyes becoming suddenly very cold. Very dead. His right hand reaches over and squeezes his left sleeve, somewhere near the wrist. There is a soft hiss of an injection being given. A drug, a chemical best described as concentrated, raw adrenaline... And with that, he's back on the offense, this time faster, meaner, and more brutal than moments ago. His body driven beyond the point that it should have gone by that drug Rugal has trained all of his men to use when mortal confidence wanes. Liquid courage of a sorts.

The assault is a rapid combination of random kicks and punches. The second knife was discarded somewhere in the hall during his tumble a moment ago. No, these attacks are pure flesh to flesh, bone to bone, as he tries to break the agent down before his own body will feel the after affects of that chemical compound coursing through his blood.

COMBATSYS: Soma blocks Invader's Dogs Of War.

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Invader          0/-------/-----==|=======\=------\1             Soma


He senses it, a moment after the chemical really starts to act; the guard's aura changes, his thought patterns adjust, and Soma's eyebrows furrow. He has no idea what the Shreader just did, only that it's awakened something... perhaps a little scary in him. A primal feeling. Liquid courage indeed... but it's a foolhardy courage. Of course, Soma's handled enough criminals at the point of nothing-to-lose that he also knows not to do something incredibly stupid like go on the offensive now.

Instead he hunkers down and this proves without a doubt to be the right plan. The strikes are too fast and too *random* to all be caught, but putting himself on the defensive lets the detective parry enough blows with the flat of either dagger so that their impact is turned from devastating to merely bruising... and it also has the nice side effect of pushing the guard's strikes AWAY from his vulnerable wounded areas. When he finally backs off, the violet eyes are actually wide in surprise... and maybe even a little bit of pity.

The ICPO agent doesn't attack; he's too exhausted and injured to strike back immediately, but a moment to collect himself might make a huge difference in the long run. "Why does it always have to go down like this?" he asks, mostly rhetorically, as he gets back into stance, preparing for the other man's followup. "At least you're not babbling on and on like that nutjob on the Suiryuu did..."

COMBATSYS: Soma gains composure.

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Invader          0/-------/-----==|=======\-------\1             Soma


All attacks have to end eventually. Energy has its limits. The body has its limits, even when being influenced by substances unnatural to its normal functioning. Shreader slows down finally, his breaths coming in labored gasps as Soma gets his chance to back off and collect himself. His defenses held admireably against the assault.

Cognizance of his surroundings slowly bleed back into Shreader's visage, the crazed, reckless onslaught having come to an end and consumed the small dosage of the drug he had injected himself with. "Heh," he grunts as he steps back himself at first, his own foot steps less steady now after what he did. "It comes down like this because people like you are always getting in the way. Don't know when you're out-gunned, out-maneuvered... even if you get past me somehow, then what? You're on unfriendly territory here, whoever you are... Beyond me are halls filled with others... Or if one of R's secretaries find you... well, heh, there's going to be problems identifying the body."

His hand slips over his shoulder, pulling out the shotgun holstered at his back. Pumping the sleek, black combat shotgun once, he levels the barrel toward Soma and fills the hall with buckshot.

COMBATSYS: Soma dodges Invader's Medium Shot.

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Invader          0/-------/-----==|=======\-------\1             Soma


What follows is actually quite amazing.

Soma vanishes.

Or at least, for those without the visual acuity to follow it, this is indeed what goes down. The shotgun fires, the burst of fire moves across the intervening space, and for some reason the ICPO agent just *isn't there* when it reaches the destination. Why? Because he reached into a deep well of his own power that is rarely accessible... augmenting his own muscles with Psycho Power. It's a rare trick, and it doesn't last long... but when it does, Soma's already prodigious speed becomes phenomenally fast, like teleportation.

"You assume I'm here to avoid Rugal Bernstein," the man says dispassionately, from approximately 2 feet in front of the guard, right before driving forward with one sharp, clean dagger strike right toward the man's chest. Let someone else's sternum bleed for a while. "There's your problem right there."

COMBATSYS: Soma successfully hits Invader with Fierce Strike.

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Invader          0/-------/---====|=======\=------\1             Soma


"What the-" comes the utterance as Soma goes from being a little ways down the hall... to being /right/ in front of him. Eyes widen with some surprise at the burst of speed as Soma steps quickly inside the shotgun range, rendering the brutal weapon ineffective as a stopping device. The stab into his chest strikes true and Shreader gets a taste of his own medicine when it comes to slashing and stabbing folks...

He loses only one step backward, however, pulling himself back so that Soma would have to withdraw the knife if he wants to keep it on hand, or risk losing it all together. "If that's the case, then your problem is that you're bloody crazy, boy," he retorts with a gasp of some pain. He only has probably ten years on Soma in age, but that seems sufficient to treat him as a kid in his mind.

That shotgun is raised again, now that he has half a foot of space to work with, and his finger slips forward over the second trigger and with a light press, a blast fires out of the second barrel of the shotgun. This time the buckshot is explosive, the pellets sparking and igniting wherever they land. If enough land it would be enough to start a fire on cloth, let alone the damage they'll do to flesh.

COMBATSYS: Soma dodges Invader's Point-Blank Fire.

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Invader          0/-------/--=====|=======\=------\1             Soma


It's not going to last long, but as long as he's got the power coursing through his veins -- perhaps much like the wardrug that not that long ago was injected into the Shreader's -- Soma's going to take advantage of it. His body blurs as he leaps into the air, up and away from the shotgun-toting guard, and for a second he seems to actually latch onto the wall for a moment, though perhaps it's no more than an optical illusion. Either way, the fiery burst evaporates harmlessly in thin air.

The ICPO agent's sarcastic tone rings out from above and to the right, though he probably ruins the moment (and his advantage) by speaking. "No kidding?" And then he pushes off the wall, sailing *above* his opponent upside down, immediately drawing his M9 and peppering the ground beneath him with a hail of suppressive fire. If a bullet actually hits the bastard, well, that's wonderful... or maybe he'll waste some ammo firing back. "What was your first clue? The multiple stab wounds?"

COMBATSYS: Soma successfully hits Invader with Large Thrown Object.

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Invader          0/-------/=======|=======\=------\1             Soma


The flaming pellets go flying down the length of the hall, sparking against the metal walls of the corridor but not against flesh or cloth as Soma takes to the air. The surge of speed is impossible to follow for the 'R' soldier and the bullets fired as he passes over him strike pretty solidly. His body armor absorbs some of the shots, reducing the lethality of the weapon being emptied into him, but a few get through and the damage adds up pretty painfully.

Shreader staggers forward then, allowing Soma to land behind him, putting the agent between the guard and the hatch he was trying to keep secure. It's not quite a victory yet, as there's no way he's getting that heavy door open with the man still on his feet like he is now. The shotgun is tossed aside now. Buckshot doesn't seem to work on this man who has become a veritable ghost with the kind of speed he's exhibiting now. Time to get back down to the basics. Savage, brutal strikes seemed to be doing the trick earlier.

A charge forward as he draws back his fist, and then that strike plows in toward Soma, aiming to smash into that bloodied torso of his.

COMBATSYS: Soma interrupts Fierce Punch from Invader with Sapta Rishis.

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Invader          1/----===/=======|=------\-------\0             Soma


It never meets its destination. The fist lands instead on Soma's outstretched arm as the agent simply reaches out and basically plucks the attack from the air, as it were, choosing when and where to take the hit rather than letting his opponent make the decision. The gun is mysteriously holstered again, too; apparently Soma had a childhood of card tricks and pulling quarters out from behind peoples' ears too. His face contorts for a moment in a rictus of pain, since that punch still landed with no small amount of force.

It just isn't enough.

He only says one word: "Goodnight." Then his other arm blurs out, dagger in hand, and strikes seven critical points on his opponent's body in quick succession. The blade doesn't sink in far, but when you're striking both the nervous system and what kundalini yoga experts would consider the 'chakra network' at the same time, it doesn't need to, either. The entire affair takes less than 2 seconds before the silver blade flashes back into Soma's sleeve, the agent looking on dispassionately. He'd really hoped this wouldn't have been necessary even though his cop's instincts told him from the get go that it would.

The man staggers back slowly. He's a tough brute as far as 'R' soldiers go. Not Rugal's best, but definitely no slouch either. But when Soma takes off the proverbial gloves and dishes out the kind of pain he's truly capable of, even seasoned fighters would be hard pressed to keep going at that point.

"You're a crazy bastard," comes the man's final words to the intruder as he realizes he's been bested completely. Compliment? Insult? Simple statement of the honest to goodness /truth/? That's up to someone else to decide, because Shreader is going down for the count. But not with one final present.

His arms both each to his sides, pulling up belts of grenades. With his last gesture he pulls the string that connects the pins on all of them at once then chucks them down the hall toward Soma before falling face floor to the ground.

The grenades are varied and dangerous. Napalm, shrapnel, tear gas, other scalding chemicals, and even an EMP pulse are in the mix. But there are a few precious seconds to spare... maybe the agent can get beyond that hatch in time to slip through unscathed.

COMBATSYS: Invader can no longer fight.

[                   \\\\\\\\\\\  <
Soma             0/-------/------=|


COMBATSYS: Soma blocks Invader's Dead On Arrival.

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Soma             0/-------/-----==|


Now how do you defend against that. The bonanza of grenades gets a critical look from the ICPO agent. There's no way he's going to actually escape them all, but he can perhaps minimize the damage if he gets creative. What actually happens would be fascinating if there were anybody left to watch it. As they head toward him he actually goes on the offensive... with kicks and punches, literally knocking some grenades in the swarm right out of the air, where they explode against walls and even the ceiling, forcing him backwards... but toward a hatch he plans to go through anyway.

Unfortunately, one last grenade -- an incendiary -- gets through and the agent of both Jinchuu and the ICPO lacks any free hand or available foot except his dagger-bearing right hand... so he compromises and, lashing out, cuts the damn thing in half. The explosive charge is cut down, but that doesn't mean that the grenade doesn't have some kick left, and an exhausted and beaten but unbroken Soma is sent stumbling back toward the doorway, singed but otherwise okay.

Stowing the dagger back in its quick-release harness up the sleeve of his jacket, Soma tugs on the bottom of it, brushing crusted blood from the front of his grey shirt and addressing the prone, unconscious form of the Shreader with... if not disdain, then perhaps boredom? He's at least glad the man is not dead; Soma's *capable* of taking lives, but he doesn't exactly like doing it unless he has to.

"You're welcome," is the only response he throws out, unheard, before turning and walking into the hatch. The night's not over just yet.

The sound of shotguns being fired, grenades exploding, and just the general commotion of the fight doesn't go completely missed. The boat may be mostly empty with much of the normal manpower of 'R' over battling it out on the Suiryuu, but that doesn't mean it's an utter ghost ship. Reports of trouble down on deck six - gunshots heard, all signs that point to an intrusion of teh Black Noah. Normally Rugal would delegate dealing with such matters to one of his various lieutenants as he couldn't be troubled to handle every triffling issue.

But matters are critical presently. Everything must go according to plan. And if there is trouble on his boat, he is going to look into it directly. After all, most of the plans have been going fine, but a critical portion of his machinations failed. He and his son were repelled just shy of taking the bridge of the Suiryuu and that has resulted in a set back that he hasn't quite yet resolved how to handle. Soma's disruption has forced the man to pull away from his careful planning on the bridge. "I'll take care of it," he had told the man who reported indications of the agent's intrusion. While his time was valuable, his men didn't need to be distracted. And besides, if he had gotten past Shreader then he's no slouch either.

When the young man passes through the hatch that leads further into the boat he is just in time to see an elevator from above 'ding', its metal doors sliding open as none other than the man he seeks steps out, expression set in a dark scowl. His first desire is to walk right over to the already battered man and shatter his skull against the thick, steel wall of the corridor. But Rugal holds his ground, studying Soma from a distance at first. Perhaps he suspects an assassination attempt? Maybe Soma is laden with explosives and his final order is to charge the tyrant of 'R' before blowing himself into a bloody mess. The thought that the Ryouhara ninjas might retaliate in such a way isn't beyond his expectations of them.

"Well, well, what do we have here." the man mutters. Having had time to recover from his defeat aboard the Suiryuu, he is back in his signiture red, almost garish suit. A thin, black scarf hangs open around his neck and his right hand folds and unfolds one end of that scarf as if some kind of idle twitch.

Be careful what you wish for...

Soma does not exactly present an imposing sight. A full head shorter than Rugal and considerably more slightly built, even if he weren't covered in blood stains and ragged clothing the best he could hope for is 'impressively suave'. That the 'R' head would consider the man something akin to a suicide bomber probably isn't that far from the mark either. Soma's entrance onto the Black Noah was far from quiet, much to his chagrin.

And against all expectation, Rugal Bernstein himself actually appeared to take care of the situation.

For a moment, the detective can only lock gazes with Rugal as best can, admittedly impressed, if not cowed, by the one-eyed man's penetrating gaze. Interestingly, it's the man's presence that Soma seems to note... something he noticed about Chun-li, as well. Powerful, experienced fighters seem to radiate an aura that fills the room, to a psychic... perhaps it is merely force of personality and confidence manifesting themselves.

Eventually he finds his voice, and when he does, it is actually in the tones of someone who knows he's dancing on the knife's edge of his own demise and has thus abandoned anything approaching propriety. "It got noisy," he says evenly, mimicking his statement to Hiretsu not too long ago. "And I thought I'd drop by."

"You aren't of the Ryouhara," comes the statement after a moment. When he spoke the words he was across the room, just barely a foot past the entrance of the elevator. By the time Soma hears those that declaration, however, he is already being lifted up by a hand around his neck that is so powerful as to defy comprehension except by the small handful of people in the world that could truly match Rugal Bernstein's strength. Soma's back is thrust against the wall with a slam but the act isn't done with the full force that his attacker can muster. He's simply being moved into a position Rugal perfers for the purposes of the next moments of discourse. The moments that may very well be the younger man's last.

Up close and personal. Perhaps Rugal concluded that Soma wasn't bearing a suicide belt in that split instant before acting. Maybe he saw some trace remnant of sanity in the agent that told him at a glance that he wasn't quite ready to throw his life away like a crazed fanatic. Gutsy as hell, yes. Through with life? Not yet. Not willingly. He fought too hard to get past the guard at the hatch to be ready to throw life away.

The vice grip around his neck shifts to clasp his thrashed shirt, twisting the cloth and holding him up by simply applying pressure against his chest, pinning him to the wall like a curious child might do a moth to corkboard. "Which begs the question... Who are you?" There's few things that can sate the monster's savage nature quite like curiosity. Tamer of beasts and men alike, that desire to know that which is not yet known affects even the likes of him.

Even if he had the energy to fight back, it's highly unlikely that Soma could have escape Rugal's grip. As he is now -- beaten, bleeding, and only conscious by force of will alone -- there isn't even a distant prayer. There's a strangled sound, involuntary, as the head of 'R' wraps his hand around the ICPO agent's throat, but once the grip shifts to his shirt he's oddly silent as the crime boss delivers his question. After all, he DID come here to talk, didn't he?

"Nobody of any consequence," Soma says carefully, but he doesn't throw it off as a little one liner. In the grand scheme of things, his wounded ego reminds him, it's even the truth. "I believe my official title is 'agent of Jinchuu', though I never asked for the honor. I'm one of the Ryouhara's 'guests' on board the Suiryuu." Of course, none of this explains the military-issue handgun in the clearly visible shoulder holster... or the man's ability to sneak onto the Black Noah. Fighters or no, not everybody is skilled in the arts of stealth.

A ragged grin actually spreads across Soma's face, however, once he finishes his introduction. "What's the military term? Parley, I think... that damned pirate movie ruined the idea, but I'm not here to fight, to steal anything, or to blow up your battleship. I'm here to talk."

Inches from his face, Soma gets a nice, close up look at the two eyes of Rugal Bernstein. His left eye is human. Brown iris, natural shape and size for a German male in his forties. It burns with intensity, resonating with power only barely restrained - as if behind that human mask was a monster ready to rend Soma to ribbons of meat worthy only of being fed to the tyrant's large black panther. His right eye just the opposite. Unliving, cool, mechanical. A cybernetic replacement for that which was stolen years ago when the man took one step too close to securing a godhood another was determined he wasn't to have. It is calculating, devoid of emotion, analytical. And in those two eyes Soma sees the man he has come to speak with. The combination of those two halves.

When he speaks, Rugal merely continues to hold him there. The crushing pressure against his chest no doubt making it extremely difficult to engage in dialog for long. It wouldn't be long before his lungs would have to just give up the fight of drawing breath due to the weight bearing down on his chest now. But he gets his request out in the open before that happens and that struggle to speak might have just saved him for now.

"A guest from the Suiryuu... now this is interesting..." Slowly he retracts that right hand of his, releasing his grip on Soma's shirt and allowing the man to slide down the wall to resume standing on his own two feet - if he still possesses the strength to do so, that is. "And what, pray tell, would you have to speak to me about that I should be more interested in hearing it instead of dashing your brains out just to see if that power I sense in you is truly what I think it is?" The man sounds very curious about that latter prospect. The pitch better be a good one if it is to change his mind.

It's difficult to catch Soma off guard, thanks to a dogged combination of self-possession and good old fashioned hard boiled detectiveness. But somehow Rugal has managed it. There's very little energy left in his body, but even as he bends one knee and throws his back at the wall to stay standing, his head snaps up and *his* eyes -- a penetrating, unnatural shade of violet -- widen, boring into Rugal's face, trying to find the answer. And the man's psyche is like an iron wall, much like Chun-li's... if he had more training, perhaps, he could crack it. But ever since he was young, Soma's trained harder to keep the voices *out*.

There is indeed a series of wet coughs as the Fighting Novelist coughs up a small amount of blood. Apparently the guard at the gate took more than his fair pound of flesh after all. "Curiosity," he eventually says. When all else fails, you can usually fall back on the truth. After all, what's the worst that can happen... they don't believe you? And a pair of Soma's brain -- likely the part wired to handle pain reception -- is beginning to argue that having his skull cracked open might not be a problem right now. "I've been doing my own examination of... what exactly it is the Ryouhara are planning over there. I have some theories. Your arrival is the missing link... well, that and the ship's Director of Operations."

A faint smile crosses Soma's lips in spite of himself. If he has to deliver a party favor to keep Rugal mollified, well... so be it. "I don't know what, exactly, 'that power' would be... but I can tell you that whoever the 'Director of Operations' is, he doesn't have..." And here words fail Soma. What would you call it? 'Mind' is clearly not right, as the man spoke to him, moved with him... stabbed him, for one. 'Soul' is too esoteric, even for Soma. He settles on, "...presence. Like he's not even in the room."

Soma buys himself some more time. Precious moments of life to wrestle out the answers he seeks or perish trying. For right now he has Rugal's ear and the man seems willing to lend it for a little bit longer. Curiosity? It must be powerful curiosity indeed to send him into the heart of the Black Noah. A more hostile place for an Interpol agent to tread would be hard to find.

"Hiretsu," Rugal growls. Apparently he knows perfectly well who that Director of Operations is. He takes a step forward, his left hand slamming out hard, palm first, against the metal wall right next to Soma's head with enough force to dent the thick steel and send a reveberation throughout the vicinity. His right hand comes forward next to grab the agent's shirt and with a twist and pull, literally tear the irrelevant piece of clothing to shreads as if to expose his torso and all the injuries he's incurred.

The taller German lurks over the younger man. In spite the violence of his actions, he actually seems calm, composed. Forcefully removing Soma's shirt is done with the same indifference a practiced surgeon might slice open the chest cavity of a corpse. There is simply something Rugal wishes to get a closer look at and he couldn't care less about Soma's feelings on the matter. "These injuries," he remarks as he takes a step back from Soma, inspecting the myriad wounds the author has picked up in the last short while. "Not all of them came from my man. He believes himself to be an expert with knives but..."

Bernstein's human eye narrows slightly, "Some of those slashes were delivered with a precision that is decades more advanced than anything he could inflict." Pressure points targetted by something sharp, the wounds happening nearly at the same time as if Soma had been attacked by multiple foes rather than one. All this and more Rugal can discern with his analytical eye. If he felt it remotely useful to do so, he could probably point to each injury Soma bears and indicate the precise order it was received. "Who did this?"

"Who," Soma says with impressive sangfroid, "do you think?"

It's amazing how much calm he's managed, and it may in fact be the ease with which he knows Rugal could as soon kill him as look at him that makes him bold. And the detective is not afraid of death, that's for sure. He's touched worse than death even as a child, and he's lived what he feels is a just life. There's nothing to be afraid of, really. But still, even though he's mastered it, his body is whip tense underneath. Whether Rugal -- who can certainly perceive it -- feels this is foolhardiness or a commendable act of will is for him to decide.

The battered body of the ICPO agent takes on an entirely different cast with the light grey of his shirt gone; the midriff-high black jacket hangs loosely over blood-spattered flesh. And indeed, there are four very specific, very precise cuts on his chest. In fact, it may only be Soma's own knowledge of vital points that's keeping him upright at all, at this point. "I should probably be thanking you. You arrived just in the nick of time... and your men attacking the Suiryuu was a convenient distraction for me to slip into the belly of the 'water dragon'." There's a pause. Soma in fact did *not* know Hiretsu's name, but now that he does, it's useful to call him by it. "Hiretsu objected to my unscheduled tour and decided to make his point in a literal way."

"Heh." Rugal grunts as he stands back now, arms hanging against his sides. Deadly weapons 'holstered' for the moment. It sounds like Soma just has a way of ending up where he isn't supposed to be. The Black Noah isn't the only boat he's been caught where he isn't welcome, apparently. "Then you've seen him for yourself." There's a certain weight to those words, as if the fact that Soma has encountered Hiretsu is important to Rugal. It may be the only thing saving him right now.

"You of all people can best tell," he continues, his right hand coming up to tap the side of his head as if implying something about Soma's 'gift'. Rugal has seen plenty of PSI users in his day. While those far more advanced than Soma might be able to hide it from his impressive ability to discern such things, the young man is practically an open book to his cybernetic eye. One might begin to question which of the two here is the mind reader.

"... he is unlike any other you've met. Alive far longer than he should be." The man chuckles, lowering his arm so that he can fold both of them over his chest. "Well then, what madness brought you here? What is it you thought to find out by this intrusion?" He's not a mind reader. Just really good at picking up details. But certain things he /really/ wants to know he can only find out by asking. And so he does.

He'd love to cross his arms over his chest, but that's just not in Soma's best interest right now; instead he taps the fingers of his right hand absently on one thigh, while the other just sort of hangs there... the one that 'the Shreader' decided to put some bullets into, in fact. It's going to take an awful lot of Bactine to make this night disappear. "The first and only time, yes... I've been doing my best to stay under the Ryouhara radar. My assumption is that if I'm going to be a rat in their maze, I can make them have to look especially hard to see what cheese I'm chasing." This is actually delivered in a tone of vehement bitterness, though that might not come as a surprise to someone who understands the nature of the People's Ship at the level Rugal might.

He doesn't comment on Hiretsu's strange nature, though his brow does furrow at the concept of 'alive longer than he should be'. The man is not a ghost, even if Soma believed in such things. The fact that he stabbed the ICPO detective in the chest four times certainly means he has a corporeal enough existence. But something is certainly missing about this... and Rugal's statement, in a weird way, drops it into place. "No 'energy'. Not even once did he use something of the sort. Especially not... 'my' type," he adds, raising an eyebrow at Rugal. "I'd have noticed that. Ha, maybe he really is one of the undead," the detective jokes... somewhat.

But back to the 'madness' at hand. Apparently, referring to Soma as insane is the new black, so he doesn't think too much of Rugal's somewhat baroque way of phrasing his query. "I don't exactly have much hope you'll tell me," the Fighting Novelist begins, raising an eyebrow. "But I thought you might tell me what it is, exactly, you're here to take from the Suiryuu. The ship's crew have, as you might imagine, a certain reluctance to sharing that information... and frankly, I feel like the puppets should still get to see the shape of the audience."

Rugal is perfectly still as Soma discusses what he observed about Hiretsu. It's confirming things he had picked up from other directions. Pieces of intel, attention to details, historical footnotes... He's been putting it all together. "From the boat? Oh, no." Rugal chuckles. "I want /the/ boat itself. It is a modern marvel. A real piece of work. More than simple money resulted in the construction of such a craft. The world will probably never see another of its kind. A wonder to behold, wouldn't you agree?"

The man maintains his posture, arms still folded over his chest as he looks down on Soma. "But it isn't just for show. The Suiryuu is a means to an end. And if it is meant to be a tool for them it can just as well serve my purposes I'm quite sure." There is a slow smirk that crosses his lips, "But in looking into the boat itself I discovered its Director of Operations and... Well, let's just say his lack of presence is of a more personal interest to me."

Rugal shakes his head finally. "It isn't complicated, really. I see something I want and..." He raises his right arm, bent at the elbow, hand held forward before clenching it tightly in a fist. Yeah. He takes it. That's pretty much megalomaniac think.

Now that's interesting, because it almost contradicts Soma's own beliefs about the future of that particular boat directly. Naturally, any crimelord might be interested in the ninja technology of the Suiryuu, or perhaps even the *conventional* technology; it's certainly a fact that the world will never see its like again, although with grim amusement he keeps *off* his face with concerted effort, Soma wonders if Rugal is looking to trade in his lemon flying battleship for a newer model. Even cartel lords need a sweet ride.

"The damn thing certainly would have a longer lifespan if you took it," Soma agrees. He called it the 'egg of the phoenix', and Hiretsu didn't exactly contradict him. Quite the opposite; the Director of Operations appeared to actually *agree* with that assessment. But the truth is that the 'egg of the phoenix' isn't an actual egg. It's *the previous phoenix*, a bird of which there is ever only one... because the new one arises from the smoldering dust of the old. "I don't think the Suiryuu is long for this world otherwise."

However, at this point Soma's wounds catch up with him and he falls silent, putting a hand to his chest and wincing... and, in fact, shaking out his right hand and then jabbing two of his own fingers into a point just below his right armpit. This causes a sharp intake of breath, but afterwards he actually seems a little more at peace. Knowledge of vital points isn't always used solely to injure or disable, after all. "You seem fairly confident that you can use their technology without them, however. When I ran into the Director, it was at a... well. It was a 'door' in the sense that it was a large object occupying a border between spaces, but it's likely only Seishirou can open it, to hear Hiretsu tell it. Down at the locus of those energy-stealing sigils on the walls, no less."

"If I can't have it then it isn't long for this world either way," Rugal replies, his expression a calm menace. The implications are fairly obvious. If taking the boat by force doesn't work he would rather sink it than see it get away. Something for those hapless people fighting to fend off his men might want to keep in mind...

"Ah, a door. What does a sealed door matter if you simply make your own? When I have that boat of theirs it will be picked apart. Doors, barriers, and the sort won't matter when it is mounted in a dry dock while my scientists figure out what makes it tick." The man sounds fairly unconcerned about that aspect. Snagging the prey is a lot more interesting challenge than the post-hunt cleanup process.

"But what is it to you? Your only concern should be figuring out how you are going to get out of this alive... What do you think is going to happen when we sieze that boat? The Black Noah isn't a cruise ship. We're not in the business of taking on passangers..." The tyrant chuckles. Soma is here trying to solve mysteries while the rest stay behind fighting for survival. The difference in priorities seems to amuse the man.

"You've clearly never read one of my books," the detective-slash-novelist says with a ragged chuckle. The fact that he's an ICPO officer... well, that certainly does factor in. As he told Hiretsu, he's no servant of something so flimsy and easily-twisted as the law... what he pursues is justice, for people without the power to protect themselves. But the truth of the matter is that even had the Special Crimes Directorate not snapped him up from UCLA's graduating sociology class, there's something in Soma's personality that compels him to find out the answers to things like Jinchuu. Mysteries so deep it seems as if even the creators don't know the full depth of what's going on.

But in a weird way, his trip to the Black Noah is ultimately disappointing. Rugal is clearly after the power stored on the Suiryuu, and perhaps the technology that makes it possible... but it appears as if the chief of 'R' doesn't know any more about what the Ryouhara plan to DO with it than Soma himself does, much to the detective's chagrin. But he didn't come out 100% empty-handed. Rugal did say he was more interested in Hiretsu himself than necessarily in the energy-absorbing People's Ship. That in and of itself is pretty useful information.

Now, how to get out of here alive...

When in doubt, try the truth. "I'm interested because the damned ninja sent me an invitation to Jinchuu as a get well card while I was laid up in a hospital in Metro City. They want me, and all the other people they call 'agents of Jinchuu', here for a reason and I don't know what that reason is yet. I intend to find out." All of that is absoultely true, and is Soma's personal stake in all this. "As for getting out alive, well... if you're interested in killing me for trespassing, you should hurry..." He holds up one hand, covered in a mixture of dark red dried blood and slick red fresh blood. "Time may beat you to it."

Of course Rugal has his theories. But the ninja have been nigh inscrutable enough for the people /aboard/ the boat, and all he has to work with is the information passed along to him. He can use that to synthesize facts into ideas, but in the end, it is somewhat irrelevant. He isn't here to thwart the Ryouhara's grand scheme so much as he is to further his own. That they have a plan at all is really tangental at best.

The crimelord stares at Soma for a long, silent moment. Having extracted what information he found to be of interest from the younger man, his existence has become far less important at first glance. He has been useful in confirming Rugal's interests in Hirestu but other than that...

"Get out of here," comes the grunt of dismissal from the tyrant of 'R'. He has other things slipping back into the forefront of his mind that far outweigh Soma's intrusion onto his boat. Crushing the man that looks like he's already nearly dead anyway is of little interest and the initial vehemence at the trespassing has bleed out of him as the minutes ticked past. Soma isn't the one he wants to crush right now. The man has bigger fish to fry, as the saying goes.

Log created on 23:51:01 10/06/2007 by Soma, and last modified on 04:10:20 10/08/2007.