"Hello, Jenny?" Kenta said, using a hoarse voice of a person who had been drugged. "Help me. Someone poisoned the water I drank, and I hear him at the door! I don't know how long my pokémon can hold him off. I'm at the Mountain Shade Inn. Help me!"
Without waiting for a reply, Kenta hung up, and Hibiki heard him stomp over to where he supposed the assassin was lying.
"We have two minutes to talk. Who sent you?"
The man laughed weakly, half-coughing as he did. "You're a quick one to act. But you should know I can't divulge private client information."
"Why? Because it would be worse than the consequences of your failure?" Kenta's voice hardened. "You don't know what I'm ready to do to you for drugging my little brother."
"Perhaps not," said the man in a pained, yet calm voice. "But unless you're ready to kill me, I'll take my chances. And I don't think my death would look too good for your friend on the bed there, when the authorities arrive."
"Then how about I put you out of business?"
There were suddenly two screams: one of shock from Marina, and one of raw animal pain from the assassin. Still too weak to turn his head, Hibiki wondered in horror what Kenta had done to him. He didn't need to wonder long.
"I observed that you were right-handed while you were handling that choke wire," Kenta said, his voice cold and grim. "Well, you can never use your dominant hand for murder again. I'm letting you keep your fingers, but this thumb comes with me."
Oh God . . . he cut off that man's THUMB?!
"You knew my name," Kenta continued. "Now I have your thumbprint. I'm going to find out who you are, and eventually, who hired you. Or you could tell me yourself. Who knows? Maybe that wasn't your dominant hand, and you're still holding out some hope that you can be a useful hitman in the future."
Hibiki finally managed to turn his head, through sheer force of will. He could see Marina and Feraligator side by side- Marina still wearing just a towel- looking down at the man on the carpet who was half-buried under the door. There was a dark pool of blood staining the carpet below his right hand, and Kenta was kneeling beside him, holding him by the collar with one hand. His other hand held a wicked-looking combat knife, which was stained red. Kenta's face was a mask of white-hot fury: anger the like of which he had never seen, and might never see again to such a degree.
To his renewed astonishment, the man laughed again, though there was no mirth in it. "I'm normally a pretty good judge of character," he said thickly, pain lacing his voice. "But I misread you, Officer. You didn't seem the type. Very well . . ."
A police siren could be heard in the distance. The man licked his lips. "My name is irrelevant, and I have no political motivation. I did this entirely for the money. As for my employers, well . . . unless your Feraligator destroyed it, they're listening in on this conversation through the device I'm wearing. Wanna see?"
The sirens were closer now. Hibiki saw Kenta's grip tighten on the assassin's collar. "No, I believe you. The EMPLOYERS, Lefty. Now."
The man coughed and swallowed. "I don't have much on them myself. I work on a need-to-know basis, and they paid me in bitcoins through electronic transaction- never face to face. All I can give you are the instructions they gave me. They knew your name, that you weren't dead, and that they'd seen you last in Saffron City's Pokémon Fan Club. They wanted me to track you down and . . . neutralize you . . . and give detailed reports about my progress until it was done. I was to write to them on a random, abandoned message board they linked to me."
I can't believe it, Hibiki thought, horrified. We've been marked for death since our second rally! Was someone posted there to look out for people like us?
The police siren was very close now. Officer Jenny had to be only a block or two away. The assassin's speech was rushed. "They paid me generously- two hundred thousand yen per day- but you made me work for it. You always traveled so far and so fast on that Salamence of yours that it took a week for me to learn your pattern, and triangulate where you always went back to. I found your little base just two days ago, only to learn from one of my other contacts that you were staying at the Mahogany Rocket Hideout."
The siren was right outside the building. Hibiki heard the faint slam of the police car's door, as Officer Jenny had doubtless climbed out.
"By the time I got there, you were gone again. My contact could only tell me that you had left in someone's Range Rover. Still, that made it easier, because my employers could now help me track your progress every time you went through a town with on-duty police officers." The assassin smiled. "Kinda gives you an idea about the sort of powerful people you've pissed off, doesn't it?"
"Finish up," Kenta said flatly.
"Alright, so to wrap it up, the manager of this fine establishment recognized your face. Ever since you broke into Krane Laboratories, there's been a sketch artist depiction of you going around to . . . well . . . places like this. Hotels. Restaurants. Some gas stations. I was in the area when I received the alert, and, well . . ." The assassin shrugged. "Let's just say I won't be getting my bonus pay."
Mismagius burst through the wall with a ghostly wail. Kenta made an impatient noise through his teeth, then let go of the assassin, hurrying instead to Hibiki's side. "We need to go. Marina, did you find Eusine's pokeball belt?"
"Uh- yes!" She held it up, revealing two pokeballs in miniature form.
"Send out the first one." Hibiki felt himself being hauled up, and a second later, he was looking over the back of Kenta's shoulder. The room flashed for a moment with the light of a pokeball opening, and another ghost pokémon appeared, colored dark violet: a Haunter.
"Defend your master if this man tries to hurt him," Kenta ordered, apparently to the pokémon. He sprang to the window and lurched it open. "C'mon, Marina. We have to jump!"
Judging by Marina's facial expression, Hibiki guessed that she would have protested at any other time. But in this moment, Kenta had an air of authority about him of one who had long since earned eight gym badges: one who could make any pokémon obey his commands at will. Without another word, the three of them dropped from the tenth floor up, and Bolt's enormous blue body materialized beneath them.
"Hold on!" shouted Kenta, wrapping one arm around Hibiki and grasping the Salamence's scales with the other. There was a sudden sound of flapping in the wind, and Marina screamed, but Bolt shot skyward, spiriting them off into the clouds.
***
After they were well away from human settlements, Hibiki heard Marina's voice come from behind himself and Kenta. It was shaking badly.
"P-p-please take us down! It's freezing up h-here!"
Kenta glanced over the side, at the green expanse of pine trees below. "All right. Bolt, we should be safe here."
Once they had touched down, Marina spoke again, with a little less shaking in her voice.
"Don't t-turn around, Kenta."
"I wasn't planning on it," he muttered, and Hibiki felt his arm ease off his chest. "Eusine's going to hate us for this, but I know he can take care of himself."
"No, I mean . . ." Marina's voice lowered shyly. "Don't look at me. I had to grab on to you in midair, and my towel got blown off."
Immediately, Hibiki felt Kenta's arm tense on his chest again, causing him to grunt painfully.
"Oh. Sorry." Hibiki felt something move at his back, and there was a ruffling noise. "Here's my cloak. It's the best I can do for the moment."
"It's warm," she sighed. "Thanks."
Kenta patted Bolt's head, then Hibiki felt himself lifted and set on his feet. He found himself eye-to-eye with his brother. "How is it now?" he asked, concerned. "Can you stand on your own?"
Hibiki felt like he had woken up standing instead of lying down, but his muscles grudgingly responded to his nerves. He shifted his weight from side to side. "Yeah. Thanks, bro."
He and Kenta turned to Marina, who was hugging Kenta's brown traveler cloak tightly to her body. Her blue hair, which was normally tied in pigtails, hung loosely and was sticking out all over the place. That must have sucked, thought Hibiki, flying a hundred feet high in mid-March weather, totally nude. Must be similar to taking an ice bath.
A long silence dragged out. And dragged. And dragged. The three of them just stood together in the forest clearing, looking at each other while a swirl of thoughts caught up with them from the previous events. In a a lame attempt to break the ice, Hibiki finally coughed and spoke up.
"Y'know . . . some day we'll be able to look back on this and laugh."
Kenta turned and faced him. His face was pale as a sheet, and possibly not just because he had just endured some icy wind. "I cut a person's thumb off," he said in a distant voice. "It's still in my pocket. What kind of a sick animal does something like that?"
"Kenta . . . come on. He was going to kill us."
"He was subdued," Kenta replied, now averting his eyes.
"He might have come after us again," Hibiki argued back. "He still might, if his employers keep him out of jail. You saw what that guy was like, smiling and laughing even after you cut him. He was freaking crazy."
Without waiting for a reply, Kenta hung up, and Hibiki heard him stomp over to where he supposed the assassin was lying.
"We have two minutes to talk. Who sent you?"
The man laughed weakly, half-coughing as he did. "You're a quick one to act. But you should know I can't divulge private client information."
"Why? Because it would be worse than the consequences of your failure?" Kenta's voice hardened. "You don't know what I'm ready to do to you for drugging my little brother."
"Perhaps not," said the man in a pained, yet calm voice. "But unless you're ready to kill me, I'll take my chances. And I don't think my death would look too good for your friend on the bed there, when the authorities arrive."
"Then how about I put you out of business?"
There were suddenly two screams: one of shock from Marina, and one of raw animal pain from the assassin. Still too weak to turn his head, Hibiki wondered in horror what Kenta had done to him. He didn't need to wonder long.
"I observed that you were right-handed while you were handling that choke wire," Kenta said, his voice cold and grim. "Well, you can never use your dominant hand for murder again. I'm letting you keep your fingers, but this thumb comes with me."
Oh God . . . he cut off that man's THUMB?!
"You knew my name," Kenta continued. "Now I have your thumbprint. I'm going to find out who you are, and eventually, who hired you. Or you could tell me yourself. Who knows? Maybe that wasn't your dominant hand, and you're still holding out some hope that you can be a useful hitman in the future."
Hibiki finally managed to turn his head, through sheer force of will. He could see Marina and Feraligator side by side- Marina still wearing just a towel- looking down at the man on the carpet who was half-buried under the door. There was a dark pool of blood staining the carpet below his right hand, and Kenta was kneeling beside him, holding him by the collar with one hand. His other hand held a wicked-looking combat knife, which was stained red. Kenta's face was a mask of white-hot fury: anger the like of which he had never seen, and might never see again to such a degree.
To his renewed astonishment, the man laughed again, though there was no mirth in it. "I'm normally a pretty good judge of character," he said thickly, pain lacing his voice. "But I misread you, Officer. You didn't seem the type. Very well . . ."
A police siren could be heard in the distance. The man licked his lips. "My name is irrelevant, and I have no political motivation. I did this entirely for the money. As for my employers, well . . . unless your Feraligator destroyed it, they're listening in on this conversation through the device I'm wearing. Wanna see?"
The sirens were closer now. Hibiki saw Kenta's grip tighten on the assassin's collar. "No, I believe you. The EMPLOYERS, Lefty. Now."
The man coughed and swallowed. "I don't have much on them myself. I work on a need-to-know basis, and they paid me in bitcoins through electronic transaction- never face to face. All I can give you are the instructions they gave me. They knew your name, that you weren't dead, and that they'd seen you last in Saffron City's Pokémon Fan Club. They wanted me to track you down and . . . neutralize you . . . and give detailed reports about my progress until it was done. I was to write to them on a random, abandoned message board they linked to me."
I can't believe it, Hibiki thought, horrified. We've been marked for death since our second rally! Was someone posted there to look out for people like us?
The police siren was very close now. Officer Jenny had to be only a block or two away. The assassin's speech was rushed. "They paid me generously- two hundred thousand yen per day- but you made me work for it. You always traveled so far and so fast on that Salamence of yours that it took a week for me to learn your pattern, and triangulate where you always went back to. I found your little base just two days ago, only to learn from one of my other contacts that you were staying at the Mahogany Rocket Hideout."
The siren was right outside the building. Hibiki heard the faint slam of the police car's door, as Officer Jenny had doubtless climbed out.
"By the time I got there, you were gone again. My contact could only tell me that you had left in someone's Range Rover. Still, that made it easier, because my employers could now help me track your progress every time you went through a town with on-duty police officers." The assassin smiled. "Kinda gives you an idea about the sort of powerful people you've pissed off, doesn't it?"
"Finish up," Kenta said flatly.
"Alright, so to wrap it up, the manager of this fine establishment recognized your face. Ever since you broke into Krane Laboratories, there's been a sketch artist depiction of you going around to . . . well . . . places like this. Hotels. Restaurants. Some gas stations. I was in the area when I received the alert, and, well . . ." The assassin shrugged. "Let's just say I won't be getting my bonus pay."
Mismagius burst through the wall with a ghostly wail. Kenta made an impatient noise through his teeth, then let go of the assassin, hurrying instead to Hibiki's side. "We need to go. Marina, did you find Eusine's pokeball belt?"
"Uh- yes!" She held it up, revealing two pokeballs in miniature form.
"Send out the first one." Hibiki felt himself being hauled up, and a second later, he was looking over the back of Kenta's shoulder. The room flashed for a moment with the light of a pokeball opening, and another ghost pokémon appeared, colored dark violet: a Haunter.
"Defend your master if this man tries to hurt him," Kenta ordered, apparently to the pokémon. He sprang to the window and lurched it open. "C'mon, Marina. We have to jump!"
Judging by Marina's facial expression, Hibiki guessed that she would have protested at any other time. But in this moment, Kenta had an air of authority about him of one who had long since earned eight gym badges: one who could make any pokémon obey his commands at will. Without another word, the three of them dropped from the tenth floor up, and Bolt's enormous blue body materialized beneath them.
"Hold on!" shouted Kenta, wrapping one arm around Hibiki and grasping the Salamence's scales with the other. There was a sudden sound of flapping in the wind, and Marina screamed, but Bolt shot skyward, spiriting them off into the clouds.
***
After they were well away from human settlements, Hibiki heard Marina's voice come from behind himself and Kenta. It was shaking badly.
"P-p-please take us down! It's freezing up h-here!"
Kenta glanced over the side, at the green expanse of pine trees below. "All right. Bolt, we should be safe here."
Once they had touched down, Marina spoke again, with a little less shaking in her voice.
"Don't t-turn around, Kenta."
"I wasn't planning on it," he muttered, and Hibiki felt his arm ease off his chest. "Eusine's going to hate us for this, but I know he can take care of himself."
"No, I mean . . ." Marina's voice lowered shyly. "Don't look at me. I had to grab on to you in midair, and my towel got blown off."
Immediately, Hibiki felt Kenta's arm tense on his chest again, causing him to grunt painfully.
"Oh. Sorry." Hibiki felt something move at his back, and there was a ruffling noise. "Here's my cloak. It's the best I can do for the moment."
"It's warm," she sighed. "Thanks."
Kenta patted Bolt's head, then Hibiki felt himself lifted and set on his feet. He found himself eye-to-eye with his brother. "How is it now?" he asked, concerned. "Can you stand on your own?"
Hibiki felt like he had woken up standing instead of lying down, but his muscles grudgingly responded to his nerves. He shifted his weight from side to side. "Yeah. Thanks, bro."
He and Kenta turned to Marina, who was hugging Kenta's brown traveler cloak tightly to her body. Her blue hair, which was normally tied in pigtails, hung loosely and was sticking out all over the place. That must have sucked, thought Hibiki, flying a hundred feet high in mid-March weather, totally nude. Must be similar to taking an ice bath.
A long silence dragged out. And dragged. And dragged. The three of them just stood together in the forest clearing, looking at each other while a swirl of thoughts caught up with them from the previous events. In a a lame attempt to break the ice, Hibiki finally coughed and spoke up.
"Y'know . . . some day we'll be able to look back on this and laugh."
Kenta turned and faced him. His face was pale as a sheet, and possibly not just because he had just endured some icy wind. "I cut a person's thumb off," he said in a distant voice. "It's still in my pocket. What kind of a sick animal does something like that?"
"Kenta . . . come on. He was going to kill us."
"He was subdued," Kenta replied, now averting his eyes.
"He might have come after us again," Hibiki argued back. "He still might, if his employers keep him out of jail. You saw what that guy was like, smiling and laughing even after you cut him. He was freaking crazy."