Causing Trouble In Tokyo (Katrina)

Ah, yeah... Tokyo. The perfect place to make you wish everything around you were animated. Sure, the place was still loaded with a lot of superpowered humans and criminals, but it wasn't actually an anime. Malik wasn't very sure why he was so mad about that when he'd been here ay least a hundred times, but today he was a little upset about that... Or more like he was upset that he was here under business, so he couldn't wear his Natsuki t-shirt... Well, of course he was wearing it under his black shirt and leather jacket, but he wasn't going to tell anyone that.
Japan was always an experience. Nothing against the people there, they were all wonderfully nice people, but a lot of them asked if he played basketball... He wouldn't be lying if he said that he didn't play every once in a while, but not professionally. He was more apt for the esports teams than the basketball team! It made him feel famous when they wanted pictures with him anyways, despite him not being some famous sports player.


All of that was irrelevant. He was here to meet a client who wants him to take down some underground crime boss... Nothing to out of the ordinary for him. Probably a few thugs that he could rough up without even using any powers and then just waltz in and do bad stabby kill things to the crime boss inside, getting his money. The only thing that set him off a bit was the high ticket on this guy. Had no one taken it? Maybe they were scared the guy would take their families out or something.


He would walk into a nightclub in the middle of the day, which was like... Super off-putting. It was even more off-putting that the lights and music were still playing despite it being closed. The dancers were there, but they were not dancing, they were just mingling about, all eyeing him curiously...
Asian girls, tied with Russian girls... he would think to himself, hopping up on the stage and spinning around on the pole in a playing manner, pulling some cheers from the crowd of girls.


">Ahem...<" A man in a black suit would be looking at him spinning on the pole with a raised eyebrow, ">You must be The Demonic Dire. I've heard you make yourself at home wherever you are, but I would appreciate that you don't tamper with my employees' equipment.<"


">Oh, yes... Right... My apologies...<" He would hop down and offer a hand to shake, "Yes, but a check on the demonic part. Just Dire will be fine, if you so desire.<"


The man wouldn't accept the hand and instead walk to his office, ">Dire it is, then.<"


This place was just a house of enigmas... Now he was in a well lit room that looked more like a cubicle than an office... Where in the hell was he right now??? So much clutter. He almost asked the man if he could clean his office for him, but that was rude and...


"What a mess..."


The man would give him a rather annoyed look and say "I can understand English, you imbecile..."


"Oh, well my statement still stnads..." He would lean up against the doorframe letting the man speak.


">The man you are going after is named Fukase Yoshiki, a prominent businessman. He puts on a nice face for the cameras, but on the inside... He's one of the biggest drug ring leaders in the city... Your job is to take him out after his affairs of the day are taken care of. He can be killed anywhere or at any time of the day, but I need his head. Any questions?<"


">What if was planning on blowing his head off his shoulders?<" He said with a shrug.


">Ah, makes sense. Just be sure he is dead. The last thing I need is him coming back to life.<"


">Oh, trust me... That's my super power. Everything that gets near me, I kill. You didn't make the wrong choice... With me... With the mess of your office, you f*cked up so hard...<"


Later That Evening:

The Demonic Dire stood on the roof of the building the man worked at. What a dumbass, honestly. Dude is an underground crime boss and he doesn't even have snipers on the roof. Leaving easy access to the office through the normal window...
He would hook a... Hook... to the ledge and swung in Rainbow Six style straight into the... Not broken window?
A loud "thud" could be heard and the man would jump, turning around in his swivel chair.


"Hey, you're a little bitch, you know that?" He would say.


The man would turn around and run for the door, but Dire would teleport in his way, grinning.


"I don't think you heard me..."


He would stomp the man's foot, "You..."


He would slash the man in the hand that was reaching for a gun, "Are..."


He would elbow the man in the diaphragm, "A..."


He would chop the man in the throat, "Little..."


He would punch the man square in the face, "Bitch."


As the man hit the ground, struggling to breathe, Dire would pull out a pistol. He would crouch beside the man who was still clutching at him, trying to inflict some damage.


"I mean you can try... But supposedly people can't hurt me like that. Judging from my surveying, your guards will be here in about five minutes... That gives me five minutes to talk to you..."


He would flop down in a criss-cross applesauce way, still pointing the gun at the man's temple.


"Can we just talk about how Fate Zero is the best Fate and that Stay Night sucked ass??? I mean like, how do you expect me to watch Zero first and then watch all the others??? Literally I'm trying to be a good guy, but I would torture Shirou but then let him live so he had to readjust to society... And don't get me STARTED on my current dating situation. There aren't very many girls out here who appreciate a superhero as a boyfriend..."


And the droning continues.

It would happen in an instance.

One moment, the hired assassin was talking about an overrated anime, the next the window he was next to shattered. There was no warning, no possible way to avoid the shower of glass that was all that remained of the reinforced windows. The man on the floor shrieked, but not for long, as the sheer force of the glass cut him to ribbons; he wasn’t dead, not quite, but he wasn’t conscious anymore. The glass was shattered with enough force to impale on the opposite wall, shearing clean through any physical objects in the way.

And then suddenly, Dire wasn’t alone. Three men were standing over them in a strict triangle formation, wearing an insignia the lone assassin would frankly have no clue about; a skeletal hand traced in silver clutching a sword. This symbol was plain to see, emblazoned on the body armor of what could only be professional soldiers. Their armor was high-quality, and of a type unseen nearly anywhere, with an octagonal design across the chest, transitioning into a triangular one on the arms and legs. The helmet was full-face, masking the features of these intruders, though it was obviously high-tech. Each of the soldiers carried an unfamiliar rifle clutched in their hands, a pistol sheathed on their hip and, curiously, swords on the other hip.

”Raptor Squad to Siren. Infiltration complete. Moving to sweep.”

The three soldiers began to sweep the room, caring little for possessions, kicking them over or knocking them to the ground, like they were looking for something. One of the soldiers dropped his gun, on purpose it seemed; but instead of falling to the floor, it snapped to his back, like there was an invisible rubber hand. He replaced this with the sword; the blade was fine and dull-black, but as he pulled it out of the sheath, it began to glow with energy on the edge. A single swipe of his blade and he tore through the reinforced walls, pulling out the insulation, cutting through support beams in a fruitless effort to find … something.

As this was going on, faint screams from the lower floors were distinctly heard, as if this was a process repeating itself on all the floors below them. Unlike what Dire was witnessing, from what could be heard, they weren’t looking for anything per se, but rather slaughtering the whole building, innocent or not.

Dire would turn his head away from the glass and pull out his swords. As soon as the impact was gone, he would stand to see the soldier lookin' guys standing over him menacingly. They already knocked his take out... Which sucked, but it was fine. He could just figure out who these guys were without losing his take. He realized that... He didn't need this guy alive. In fact, it didn't seem like these guys did either. So he would just spin his blade and slice the man's head off.


As they continued to ravage the office, Dire couldn't help but grimace. These guys just... Interrupted his take. Sure, they were probably looking for some kind of dirt on the guy to make this a worthy death or... Something?
Wow, that logic was even starting to make no sense to even him... Maybe he WAS changing!


Then he heard it. The massacre downstairs. At first he thought there were others on this job, as this was quite the simple job with very little blowback and decent pay... Then they just... Kept going. No way those were all mercs.
Those were people.
Wait, no... Civies. Same thing, but mercs were people too.
Most of the time...


He would then see this group in an entirely new light. These people didn't NEED to kill those civies. While sometimes, idiot civies get in the way... No way they were even given a chance. These people didn't want to find the dirt to expose this guy, they wanted the dirt to hide it from everyone. Well that just wouldn't stand. Not on his watch.


He would teleport behind one of the guys and go to stab him in the head and... Wait... What?
"Nani????" He would say as he realized the sword only cracked the helmet.


"Wait... My sword's supposed t-" Was all he could get out before being elbowed in the mouth.


Not only would that shut him up for the moment, it would also send him into the defensive, dodging and slicing the bullets coming his direction. He'd notice these were MUCH faster than regular guns, so he could only block the ones that would kill him... The others would graze him, going into skin...
Damn magic users...