—Two hundred… Mr. Five hundred told me he heard a shot, and he sent me to check on you… —Richarzon jokingly entered the office, until his gaze fell on the bullet hole in the wall.
"Nothing important... I freed Gorgo," replied Do'cientos, without looking up from the monitor.
—Gorgo? Great! Where is he?... I want to welcome him with a beer... —Richarzon said, excited.
—Oh, right… they took it to the engineering workshop —he commented with the same terrifying peace.
Richarzon stopped dead in his tracks. He frowned at him, his smile frozen on his face.
"They took him?" he repeated, not understanding. "Why would they take him to engineering? Did something happen to him in prison?"
—They're going to clean his body and connect it to the Handling suit …
Richarzon blinked. He felt a knot form in his stomach.
Handling Suit …? Wasn't that the one developed to manipulate a person's mind and body movements?
"Correct," Two Hundred agreed, without emotion.
Silence.
An artificial chill swept through the room, as if the fluorescent lights knew what was coming.
Richarzon swallowed uncomfortably. He loosened his shirt collar with a nervous gesture, revealing the faint gleam of a gold chain with a small medallion.
"Ah... you're wearing the necklace I gave you... How kind of you!" Do'cientos commented with false enthusiasm.
Richarzon's eyes widened. Without thinking, he tried to tear the collar off his neck, but the chain was stronger than it looked. Then, as if responding to his panic, the chain tightened itself. It didn't strangle him, but it was tight enough to remind him who was in charge.
"What the hell is wrong with you?!" he roared, struggling unsuccessfully.
"If I were you... I wouldn't pull on the necklace," warned Do'cientos, without taking his eyes off the monitor. "There's an explosive inside the medallion. Powerful enough to burn a hole through your neck."
"You think that's going to stop me from killing you right here?!" Richarzon shouted, taking an attack stance.
But Two Hundred raised his right arm, revealing a metal bracelet on his wrist.
"One more step… and your throat is scattered across my office," he said in an icy voice. "And if you kill me before I detonate it… it doesn't matter. If this bracelet stops feeling my pulse, the necklace explodes anyway."
Richarzon froze. Fury vibrated in his fists. Only his jaw trembled, as if holding back the words he wanted to shout at the monster before him.
"Explain yourself! What the hell is wrong with you?!" Richarzon bellowed, his voice brimming with fury. "Since when do you betray your own men?!"
Two Hundred slowly lowered his eyes to him, his expression almost compassionate.
—Forgive me, Richard… I never planned to subdue you like this. But you planted the seed of my doubts… ever since the day you said, "If Gorgo rebels, I would fight by his side."
"You son of a bitch!" Richarzon spat, his eyes wide. "That doesn't justify anything! You gave me this necklace two years before I met Gorgo! Did I carry an explosive around my neck for twelve years... without knowing it?!"
The silence was thick as lead.
Two Hundred didn't respond. He just looked at him, with that look that was somewhere between guilt and surgical coldness.
"Damn you!" Richarzon growled through gritted teeth, his voice cracking between anger and disappointment. "That's why I always struggled to see you as a friend!
" "You never considered me a companion, did you? You bastard..."
Two Hundred stood up calmly, smoothing his shirt as if he were an infomercial host.
"You're just a product acquired by the Money Corporation," he said with a fake smile. "And like any ambitious company, we protect our assets. We avoid losses… at all costs."
Richarzon clenched his fists, the collar weighing on him like an invisible yoke.
"From now on, your contract will be modified," Do'cientos continued, as if he were already reading clauses. "Twelve hours of operational work, three hours of support, and five as my personal bodyguard. You'll have… four hours of sleep left. If you're lucky."
—Is this a fucking joke…?!
Two hundred turned around, with a grimace that wasn't a smile, but it looked like one.
—That's what you're looking forward to, aren't you?...
Richarzon stands up straight, looking at Do'cientos now with disdain.
"What's your next shitty job? Knowing you, your plans only start to come together when you know how to use resources..." he murmurs with a grimace of annoyance. "Tell me what to do, or I'll shoot myself..."
Two Hundred just smiles pleased, turning his back on Richarzon only to see through the window behind him.
…
<< 2 hours ago >>
Oliver and Gouten were lying on the couch.
Oliver opened his eyes with a sharp pain in his neck. He sat up with difficulty, turning his head to look at his cousin.
Gouten groaned and put a hand to the back of his neck.
"Damn you, Max," he complained. "Why the hell did he hit us?"
"Maybe it's because of the TV," Oliver replied, rubbing his neck. "But it's weird that he knocked us out."
"Maybe he just wanted us to stay out of the way," Gouten suggested. "Although I don't understand why he wrapped his tail around my pants... it all got cramped."
Oliver looked at him, raising an eyebrow.
—Do you realize how weird that sounds?
"I'm talking about my Senkayne tail," Gouten clarified seriously.
Oliver looked over the back of the sofa, searching for Max, but he wasn't in the living room.
Gouten, for his part, turned on the television and looked for the channel where Dragon Ball usually aired , but it was already over. An hour and a half had passed since the episode ended.
"He went too far!" he complained. "He knocked us out for two hours!"
"Let's go find Max," Oliver suggested, standing up and walking toward the front door.
As he put on his shoes and poked his head around the door, Oliver saw Baldur in the garden, accompanied by a little girl. The old man was pointing out the place while explaining things to him. Without hesitation, Oliver approached to say hello.
The crunch of footsteps on the grass was enough to make Baldur turn around and, recognizing Oliver, smile warmly.
—You're finally waking up… —the teacher told him.
"Hello!" the little girl interrupted excitedly, letting go of her grandfather's hand to raise her own. "Nice to meet you! My name is Hanabi Brauner!"
"Hello," Oliver replied with a smile. "My name is Oliver Songoku. It's a pleasure to meet you," he added, bowing slightly in a sign of respect.
"Brauner? Master... are you related to him?" he asked curiously.
"She's my granddaughter," Baldur replied, gesturing to her. "She's the fourth member of the dojo. I hope the four of you can get along."
—Yes… —the children said in unison.
Suddenly, the three of them turned their heads when they heard a loud bang to their left. Gouten was running along the side of the house at full speed, as if trying to go unnoticed. Max was nearby, crouching by a tree, fixing a shovel with a broken handle.
Without warning, Gouten leaped up and kicked Max in the back.
"How dare you knock us out?!" he yelled, clinging to Max's neck like an angry monkey.
"Let me go, you damn dwarf! I'll turn you into mush!" Max growled, trying to shake him off. "How dare you hit me from behind?!"
"This is my revenge, you shameless bastard!" Gouten shouted, as Max grabbed him by the dogi's neck and held him tightly in his arms.
"Listen to me carefully..." Max whispered, changing his tone to a more restrained and serious one.
—What do you want!?
"Don't shout," he ordered, lowering his voice even further. "Hide your tail... so Hanabi doesn't see it. She doesn't know our secret, and she doesn't have to."
Max's grip became suffocating, as if he wanted to make it clear that it wasn't a suggestion.
"If he finds out and starts looking at us strangely," he continued, bringing his lips close to the boy's ear, "I'll give you and Oliver a hard time. Just like he'll give Baldur and me a hard time if we have to explain everything to him."
—Why so much secrecy!?
—This world has never had alien contact… or at least, not yet…
"Well... I'll tell Oliver then..." Gouten said, calming down. He paused briefly, then asked, "One last thing... who is Hanabi?"
Before he could get an answer, his face hit the floor with a sharp shove. "The first thing you do when you wake up is hit me and not greet the guest!? How rude!"
- I'm sorry!