At eleven o'clock that night, Isaac double-checked to make sure his parents were out cold before sneaking out of the house. A quick trip to the alley later, and Kamen Rider Gotchard was on the scene, ready to keep National City safe.
Tonight's mission? A string of disappearances that had been hitting the news lately. The victims were mostly kids and teens, and Isaac wasn't about to let that slide.
With next to no leads, Isaac figured he'd start the old-fashioned way, channeling his inner Batman. He planned to hit up every gang hangout in National City, figuring someone in the criminal underworld had to know something.
Man, wish I had some little helper bots like Eiji from OOO or a familiar like Haruto from Wizard, Isaac thought, zipping through the streets on Golddash. It'd sure beat driving around all night, and he'd get way more done.
Then, BAM! Inspiration struck.
He pulled out his phone and fired off a text to his alchemist buddy. "Hey, Wizard, got a favor to ask. Think you could whip up some gadgets for me? Something like little helper drones, you know? Like the familiars the senior Riders have."
He kept typing, laying out his vision. "Basic AI, scouting abilities, intel gathering. And if they could have some extra tricks up their sleeves, even better!"
Message sent, Isaac didn't hang around waiting for a reply. He stashed his phone, cranked the throttle on Golddash, and headed for a bar he'd scoped out a couple of nights ago.
The reason this place was top of the list? Isaac had overheard some gang members talking about a private meeting, no outsiders allowed. That meant he wouldn't have to stress about accidentally clobbering any innocent bystanders.
Now, Isaac wasn't exactly Mr. Stealth like Batman. So, he was going with Plan B: crash the party, beat up the bad guys, and grab the boss for a little Q&A. Direct, maybe a bit ham-fisted, but hey, it was a start.
Standing at the entrance of the bar, a new thought bubbled in Isaac's head. Wait a sec, I've been Gotchard for, like, over half a month now, and I'm still rocking only Steamhopper?
According to the wisdom of senior Kamen Riders, a Rider's base form always gets a power boost early on, but that grace period doesn't last forever. After a while, it's power creeps, and they get left in the dust. Better switch it up before Steamhopper gets nerfed into the ground.
Right now, Isaac had twelve Rider Chemy Cards in his card case, which meant he could pull off five Level 10 forms. Decisions, decisions...
After a moment, he decided on a combo: Level 3 Gengenchoucho and Level 7 Bulletbaang. Gengenchoucho had the power to hypnotize and induce dreams, while Bulletbaang was a crack shot. Isaac figured that if he combined them, he might be able to fire hypnotic bullets, which would knock out the bad guys without any fatal damage.
After all, for Isaac, there was a huge difference between offing a monster and killing a person. Back during that last sweep, even though he was super ticked off, he didn't kill those gang members. He just made sure they ended up in the hospital.
Alright, here we go! Henshin!
Isaac slotted the Gengenchoucho and Bulletbaang Rider Chemy Cards into the Gotchard Driver and yanked the lever.
[GENGENCHOUCHO!]
[BULLETBAANG!]
[GOTCHANKO!]
[BULLETCHOUCHO!]
As the alchemical light faded, Isaac stood there as Kamen Rider Gotchard · Bullet Butterfly Form. The black alchemic undersuit was now decked out in orange and blue armor plating.
Instead of the Steamhopper's utilitarian, train-inspired design, Bullet Butterfly was all about flash and style. The shoulder armor flared out like butterfly wings, catching the dim light of the street. Instead of gauntlets, his forearms were encased in two huge, ornate revolvers that looked straight out of a steampunk western. And the helmet? The goggles had morphed into a pair of cool sunglasses, and the top of the helmet curved into something that resembled a cowboy hat.
He decided to address the gatekeepers first, to ensure unimpeded entry later.
"Bang! Bang!"
Twin reports cracked in the night. From the revolvers, two glowing rounds sped, trailing motes of sparkling dust. They struck home, leaving the bouncers standing for a heartbeat. Then, eyes glazed, they crumpled. One face-planted into a trashcan, the other sprawled across the doorway. Both were lost in dreamland, defenseless, as Isaac stepped over them into the bar.
Isaac surveyed the scene. A low-key, smoky atmosphere filled with the murmur of illicit deals and the clinking of glasses. He steps into the room, and all eyes turned to him.
"Hey, kid, who are you? This place ain't open to guests tonight!" the burly gang member slurred, blocking his path. "And dressed like that, are you going to a costume party?"
Isaac stares at the gang member. "Costume party? I'm rocking a super-limited edition Rider fit, my dude!" Isaac thought. "No respect, I swear."
The gang member grinned, revealing a row of crooked teeth. "Well, whatever you're doing here, you better turn around and leave. This ain't a playground for kids."
Isaac paused for a moment and then suddenly strikes. The gang member barely blinks before Isaac appears behind him, patting him on the shoulder.
"Sweet dreams," Isaac says.
The burly man falls forward like a puppet with cut strings, snoring softly on the dirty floor. The other gang members stare, their eyes wide with a mix of confusion and alarm. Isaac grins beneath his sunglasses and strikes a pose, revolvers gleaming in the dim light. Time to stir things up.
"This guy, he looks a bit familiar…"
Another tough at a table near the entrance gawked at Isaac, his forehead creased. He had a feeling that the intruder seemed somewhat recognizable.
Without answering, Isaac just raised his arm a bit, the revolver aimed at the guy blocking his way.
With a faint "BANG," the hypnotic projectile instantly smacked into the man's chest. Before he could even blink, he softly went down, lost in dreamland.
"Attack! It's the Goggles Armored Man!"
The shout tore through the room like a bomb. The remaining thugs scattered. Some lunged for cover behind tables, others reached for weapons stashed under their coats.
Isaac wasn't worried, though. He might as well have [Target Acquired] stamped on his forehead. Now it was time for the real show to begin.
Hearing that unwelcome moniker, a grimace briefly flickered across Isaac's face. Goggles Armored Man? Seriously? I need a better PR team. He definitely preferred "Goggles Armored Hero."
But as the goons surged forward, any complaints were shoved aside. Alright, time to work. He raised his arms, the six-shooters on his arms aligning with practiced ease. The revolvers thrummed with a faint energy, and then, it began.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
Hypnotic bullets flew from the muzzles, tracing lazy arcs through the smoky air. Each round was a pinpoint strike, a gentle tap that sent the toughs into the Land of Nod. One by one, they stumbled, their eyes fluttering closed as they slumped to the floor, lost in peaceful slumber.
The tide turned quickly. What started as a chaotic rush became a silent tumble of bodies. The sounds of struggle faded, replaced by soft snores and the occasional thud of a falling weapon. Within moments, the bar was a tableau of unconsciousness, save for a lone, trembling figure near the back.
Isaac advanced, one revolver still trained on the last gangster. "Don't move! Tell me, where is your boss!" His voice was sharp, devoid of any trace of his usual joking tone. This wasn't playtime anymore.
The last man standing blanched, fear etched on his face. His weapon clattered uselessly to the ground. "Bo…Boss is upstairs!" he stammered, pointing a shaking finger toward the second level.
Isaac inclined his head slightly, accepting the intel. With a flick of his wrist, he fired, sending the man to join his companions in dreamland. Then, he turned and headed for the stairs, each step deliberate and sure.