Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction ❯ YGO Blade Runner ❯ Chapter 1
[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]
By: Lsama-no-miko 
Anime/Manga: Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Cyberpunk / Drama / Post-apocalyptic / Sci-fi | Type: Crossover | Uploaded On: 02.26.2008 | Pages: 3 | Words: 3.9K | Visits: 173 | Status: Work In Progress
Anime/Manga: Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Cyberpunk / Drama / Post-apocalyptic / Sci-fi | Type: Crossover | Uploaded On: 02.26.2008 | Pages: 3 | Words: 3.9K | Visits: 173 | Status: Work In Progress
YGO Blade Runner
by Sakura (aka L-sama no Miko)
This chappie’s dedicated to my dearest sister of my heart, Sherabo who not only guessed right, but whose advice – which was a huuuuuuuuuge help for this part BTW – and kind words I could never live without. Many, many, many thanks sis!!!
Chapter 1
Domino, November 2019
The brown haired man fiddled with the Voight-Kampff machine as he waited for the ‘suspect’ to come. He’d administered the test dozens of times before and knew the machine was in tip-top order, but he didn’t believe taking chances. There was still the chance of the detector breaking down. He was about to go over the machine once again when the door to the small office opened and a blond boy wearing a green jumpsuit entered. A small name tag on the suit read ‘Jounouchi’.
The blond stared a few moments at the man’s odd single spiked hairdo before sitting across from the man. The two exchanged a few words of small talk as the brunet adjusted the machine so that the scanners would line up with the boy’s hazel eyes correctly.
“So what’s this test fer again?” Jou asked nervously, fidgeting in his seat. “I don’t do well with tests, ya know. I get kinda nervous.”
“Could you sit still?” the man asked, slightly annoyed that he had to adjust the machine again.
“Oops sorry,” Jou said sheepishly. “So is this an I.Q. test or somethin’? I already had one of ‘em though.”
The brunet ignored the boy and sat down once the machine had been correctly aligned. “It’s really important that you answer as quick as you can,” he said, pulling out a folder.
“Uh… okay.”
“One one eight seven at Hunterwasser…” the brunet mumbled as he glanced over the boy’s files.
“’Ey… that’s the hotel,” the blond said, recognizing his address.
“Huh?” the brunet asked.
“That’s where I live,” replied the boy.
“Oh. Nice place?”
“’S alright I guess. I-Is that part of the test?”
“No. Just checking some facts.”
“Oh.”
“You’re in the desert. You’re walking along when…”
“Is that the test?” Jou interrupted.
“Yes. You’re in the desert. You’re walking along when you see a…”
“Which one?” the blond asked, interrupting again.
“What?” asked the man, getting a bit annoyed at the constant interruptions.
“Which desert?” the boy asked again.
“Doesn’t matter. It’s just a test,” the brunet replied.
“Yeah, but how come I’m there?”
“I don’t know. Maybe you got fed up or something.” He could feel a few veins starting to bulge from his forehead. He really hated the stupid ones. They always asked way too many questions. “So anyway, you’re in the desert walking along and you see a tortoise coming toward you…”
“What’s a tortoise?” the blond asked again.
The man let out an annoyed sigh. “You know what a turtle is?”
“Yeah. Ain’t never seen one though.”
“Same thing.”
“Oh.”
“You go over and flip the tortoise over on its back…”
“So do they make these questions fer ya or do ya write them down?” the blond asked, interrupting for the umpteenth time.
The man was sore pressed to ‘retire’ the boy right there and then, but then the captain would have his head for lunch if he’d make a mistake and retire a human instead of a replicant. Sighing again, he ignored the boy’s question and went on to the next part. “The tortoise is lying on its back, its belly cooking in the sun. It’s trying to get back on its feet, but can’t. It needs help, but you’re not helping.”
“Whadda ya mean I ain’t helpin’?!” snapped the blond, shooting up from his seat.
“You’re not helping the tortoise, why Jounouchi?” The boy glared at him dangerously, sensing it could get ugly, he held up his hands in a gesture of peace. “Look, they’re just questions Jounouchi. See?” he asked, holding up a few sheets of neatly typed lines. “This is a test that checks your feelings. That’s all.” The boy continued to glare at him, but sat back down, his anger cooled a bit. The brunet readjusted the machine again before asking. “Can we go on?” Jou nodded, not liking the test one bit.
“Describe the good things that come into your mind about your mother,” the man said again, peering at the readouts on the machine’s screens. The machine starts to beep ominously.
“My mother?” Jou asked.
“Yeah.”
“I’ll tell ya about my mother,” the blond says coolly. There was a sudden pop and the man went flying into the wall, chair and all, his coffee thermos shooting several feet into the air before raining down onto the desk, machine and floor.
Jou stood up calmly and raised the tiny gun he’d smuggled into the building. Without a single blink, he shot the man yet again, sending him through the wall into another office.
**************************************************
“A new life awaits you on the off world colonies!” proclaimed the advertising blimp hovering above, a holographic screen projecting the words Off World, Adventure, and New Life in brilliant neon green. “The chance to begin in a golden land of opportunity and adventure!”
The spiky haired man shook his head as he read his newspaper. He’d heard that same drivel over and over, day in and day out. He was really tired of it, in fact he was practically tired of everything. Domino never changed. It was always raining, the few remaining people of Japan had decided to live there all at the same time so it was a constant sea of umbrella bearing people every single day and night. Just like tonight and every other night since he and his wife Anzu had divorced.
She just up and left for the country, saying that she was annoyed with the noise and filth of the city. The truth was she couldn’t stand his work. Couldn’t live with the constant worry of having him coming home in a body bag. So she dumped a stack of divorce papers and a rather dingy apartment on him while she was probably having the time of her life.
He sighed, putting down the newspaper. He was about to walk away, head for home when one of the many noodle bar owners started shouting and waving him over, hoping to get another customer and hence more money. Deciding he had nothing better to do – not to mention he was kind of hungry – he strode over to the White Dragon and squeezed himself in between the other customers already eating. He took the blue jacket off his shoulders and shook off the rain before putting it back on and sitting down. He really should get himself a new umbrella, he had chided himself.
The old man smiled warmly at him, eager to make another sale. After glancing at the rain soaked and grimy menu that had been placed in front of him, the spiky haired man pointed to a particular item and held up four fingers. The old man nodded, still grinning while holding up two fingers.
“No,” the man said, “Four.” He held up two fingers on each hand. “Two, two. Four.” The old man made an ‘ahh’ sound then rushed to get the man’s order ready.
Within moments a nice steaming bowl of noodles was placed before him. Nodding appreciatively at the old man, he slid a few bills over the counter which the old man gleefully took. However, his meal was not to be enjoyed in peace. As soon as he was about to start digging in, two men came up behind him, one in a cop uniform while the other was dressed in tight black leather pants, a black tank top and red vest. A red headband held back his hair, which had been pulled back into a high ponytail. A dice earring hung from one ear.
The cop tapped him on the shoulder while the other leaned over. “It would be best if you’d follow me,” he said in a mixture of Japanese, Hungarian, German and various other languages which had become to be known as ‘city speak’.
The spiky haired man was fluent in ‘city speak’ as well, but wasn’t in the mood to let them know that. He waved the shop owner over to act as an interpreter.
“If you don’t comply,” the fancy dressed man said again, “I’ll be forced to arrest you.”
“He say you under arrest, if you no go with him,” the old man replied.
“Tell him he’s got the wrong guy,” the spiky haired man said before stuffing noodles into his mouth.
The black haired man frowned, knowing full well what he was up to. He’s played these games before. “Wrong guy my ass, Atem,” he said, “Everyone knows about the boogeyman of Domino.”
The spiky haired man, Atem, flinched at the word ‘boogeyman’. Gods he hated that nickname. Many of those who had seen him work back then used to call him that, especially when he was chasing down a rather difficult target.
“There’s only one Blade Runner I know who goes by that nickname,” the taller raven haired man said again.
“Hey say you Blade Runner,” the old man interpreted.
“Tell him I’m eating,” spat Atem, refusing to budge.
The taller man then turned to the old man, seeing that Atem wasn’t about to give him the time of day. “Would you please tell this baka here that I’m here on Captain Ishtar’s orders and that he didn’t care what condition I brought him in.”
Atem continued to eat, though he did flinch slightly at the mention of the name Ishtar. It couldn’t be good if his old boss was involved.
“Hey say you idiot,” the old man spoke up, “He say boss Ishtar tell him bring you. He say boss man no care how you look.”
Sighing and putting down his chopsticks, Atem turned to the raven haired man. “Marik huh?” he asked. The man nodded. Resigning himself to a possible nasty fate, which he’d so desperately hoped he’d finally gotten away from, the spiky haired man rose from his seat and followed the two to a nearby waiting hover car known as a spinner, but not before quickly grabbing his dinner.
“You know,” began the raven haired man, still using city speak, as the cop started the spinner’s ascent, “I told the captain I could handle things on my own. Give me the job and I’ll take those phonies down real good.” He mimed shooting a gun. “But noooooo Ishtar kept on insisting I’d go and get you. He thinks you’re hot stuff, the most badass Blade Runner around. Hmph! You don’t look like much to me. Just look at those clothes, when was the last time you washed them. And what’s with that hair? It’s a good thing you’re not with the department anymore or we’d have our reputation ruined.”
Atem just ignored him, continuing to eat his noodles.
*****************************************************
A tall man with tan skin and spiky platinum blond hair sat at a paper littered desk, going over that day’s reports when the door to his office burst open. He looked up at the rather annoyed, if not irate, spiky haired man at the doorway, a taller raven haired man just behind him.
“Hi ya, Atem!” he greeted, smugly smirking.
“If you weren’t such a stubborn jackass, I wouldn’t have to resort to such measures,” the blond said, “Have a seat ‘pharaoh’.” Atem continued to frown and glare at his former boss, especially since he kept insisting on using his old codename in spite of his current status.
The raven haired man glared at the shorter brunet briefly, but said nothing before pushing past him and sat on a chair in one of the corners. He wanted to be close by, just in case the former cop did anything rash.
“Oh come on!” Marik whined, “Don’t be like that I’ve got four skin jobs running loose in my city.”
The spiky haired man reluctantly sat down and waited for the police captain to explain further. The blond pulled out a bottle of beer and two glasses. He poured himself a drink then one for his former lieutenant.
“Like I said, there’s a group of skin jobs running around. They somehow managed to hijack a shuttle, killed the crew and passengers. Now they’re here. The wrecked shuttle was found floating not too far from here that’s how we know they’re in the city.”
“Kind of embarrassing don’t you think?” Atem said, reaching for the drink, giving Marik a nod of thanks.
“Only if someone finds out,” the captain said, glaring slightly at him, “which by the way won’t happen ‘cause you’re going to find them and take care of them.”
“The hell I will,” spat Atem after taking a long swig of his beer, “You forgot. I don’t work here anymore. Tell Honda to do it, he’s good at this.”
“Actually I did,” Marik said, frowning at his untouched glass.
The spiky haired man grasped his glass tightly, not liking the sudden sinking feeling he got from his friend’s response. “So?”
“He’s still breathing.” Marik took a swig from his glass. “That is unless someone unplugs him.” Atem’s crimson eyes widened in shock. He remembered the tough as nails brunet and how good he was at fighting. These rouge replicants had to have been extremely powerful to have rendered one of Domino’s finest Blade Runners virtually useless. Either that or Honda had gotten sloppy, which was highly unlikely given the man’s no nonsense way of handling things.
“He was good,” the blond said taking another drink, “But not good enough. You’re better, that’s why I need you pal. I need that old Blade Runner magic of yours.”
Atem stared at the blond for a few moments, as if considering his request. “I was quit when I came in here, I’m twice as quit now. See you around Marik. Thanks for the beer by the way,” he said getting up to leave.
“Stop right there, pharaoh!” yelled the blond, making the shorter man pause as he reached for the doorknob. “You know the score as well as I do, if you’re not a cop, you’re nobody!”
The raven haired cop stared at the spiky haired man coolly as he placed the tiny origami bird he’d been working on onto the table next to the chair. Curious as to what Atem’s response would be, he remained silent, continuing to watch the scene with keen interest.
Said Blade Runner turned around and walked back to the desk. “No choice huh?” he asked.
“’Fraid not my friend,” the blond replied.
Once again resigning himself, Atem allowed the taller blond to lead him and the still shadowing brunet to the resource room. Marik then sat at one of the computers and began typing. Within a few seconds, a video of Honda’s V-K test of a blond boy began playing. The blond glanced over at his shorter friend and inwardly sighed at his apparent bored expression.
“We got a report of an escape from several of the off world colonies a couple weeks ago,” he said, ignoring the video for the moment, “Seven replicants. Five male, two female. They massacred twenty-three people then hijacked a shuttle.” That got the shorter man interested for he quickly turned from the video, curious, “Air patrol spotted the ship in the sea. Well, three nights ago, they were spotted trying to break into the Kaiba Corp. building. Two got cooked trying to get through the electro-field, we lost the others.”
Atem went back to watching the video, but gave a curt nod for the captain to go on.
“We thought they might try to sneak in again as new employees so I had Honda run V-K tests on all the new employees. Looks like he got a live one.”
The video continued playing while Marik began typing again. The video paused then shrunk and moved to one of the corners on the screen, freezing on a close up of the boy. At the bottom of the screen, it read:
Replicant (M) Des: Jounouchi, Katsuya
Nexus 6 N6MAC41717
Incept Date: 25 January 2017
Func: Combat/Loader (Nuc. Fiss.)
Phys: Lev. A Ment: Lev. C
“That’s Jounouchi,” Marik said, “Heavy ammo loader on one of the military’s off world bases. He can lift four atomic loads all day and night. The only way he can get hurt, is if you kill him.”
“What I don’t get is,” Atem said, taking in the info on the screen, “why did they even bother come here? They should know they’re not exactly legal down here. It’s weird for them to do that. And why Kaiba Corp.?”
“You tell me, pal,” Marik said turning to him, “That’s what you’re here for.” He went back to typing and the screen changed to a rotating picture of the head a young man around his twenties or so with long white hair and sharp piercing chocolate eyes.
“Who’s that?” the spiky haired man asked.
“Nexus 6, Bakura Touzoukou, incept date 2016,” replied the blond as he continued to type. The picture, like the video shrunk and the info on the man appeared below.
Replicant (M) Des: Touzoukuou, Bakura
Nexus 6 N6MAA10816
Incept Date: 2 September 2016
Func: Combat, Colonization Defense Prog.
Phys: Lev. A Ment: Lev. A
“He’s a combat model,” the blond said not bothering to wait for him to take in the info and continued to type. “Optimum self sufficiency, he’s probably the leader.”
The picture changed again to a blond boy around eighteen or so. Atem’s eyes widened when he noticed his resemblance to his friend, however the hair was less spiky and much longer and his lilac eyes were a shade or two lighter.
The blond beside him let out a slight chuckle at Atem’s surprise. He too was surprised, but not by much since he knew Kaiba had their way of acquiring one’s DNA without them knowing it. The information changed as well as the blond typed.
Replicant (M) Des: Ishtar, Malik
Atem’s eyes bulged again, but said nothing as the rest of the info on the current model came up to read:
Nexus 6 N6MAB61216
Incept Date: 23 December 2016
Func: Retrained (9 Feb., 2018) Polit. Homicide
Phys: Lev. A Ment: Lev. B
“That’s Malik,” Marik said with just a hint of pride and jealousy, the ladies always thought him to be rather handsome and the blond knew it. Having a copy of himself running around, no matter how good looking, was a serious threat to his masculinity. “He’s been trained for off world assassination. You’ve heard of ‘Beauty and the Beast’ right, well he’s both. I’d watch myself around him if I were you.” He went back to typing, not bothering to warn his former co-worker.
A picture of a spiky haired boy about sixteen or so – though he looked much younger due to the huge violet eyes – appeared on the screen, earning a gasp from the spiky haired man. If he didn’t know better, Atem would have sworn he was looking at a mirror image of himself.
“The fourth skin job is Yugi,” Marik said, ignoring the heated glare Atem had been giving him the past few seconds. It was obvious the shorter man didn’t appreciate a look alike of himself being referred to as a ‘skin job’.
Just as with the others, information appeared at the bottom of the screen.
Replicant (M) Des: Yugi
Nexus 5 N5MAB21416
Incept Date: 4 June 2016
Func: Leisure
Phys: Lev. A Ment: Lev. B
“A basic Nexus 5 pleasure model, a standard item these days for the idle rich and military on the off world colonies.” The blond stopped typing and turned to his friend who hadn’t taken his eyes off the boy’s picture. Marik allowed himself a few seconds of amusement before going on. “Kaiba designed them to copy us humans in everyway, except emotions. They thought if let alone long enough, a replicant could develop emotions on their own so Kaiba had a kind of failsafe added to the Nexus models.”
“Which is?”
“A four year life span,” was Marik’s matter-of-fact reply.
“So that’s why…” Atem murmured.
“Well,” Marik said pouring himself a beer, which he had brought with him. “it appears that Honda found out that the V-K machine doesn’t work too great on a Nexus 6. Kaiba has volunteered to allow us to test it again on their demo model. I just hope it was a glitch because if V-K doesn’t work, we’re up the creek without a paddle.”
Atem said nothing as he took the beer the blond was offering him and downed it in one shot. He rose from his seat, leaving the blond and his raven haired shadow.
~TBC~
Sakura: Yahoo!!! Got this party started!!!
Yami: What is it with you and turning my aibou into a slave all the time onna?!
Sakura: Oh come on, pharaoh! He’s got uke written all over him!
Bakura: She’s got a point, you know.
Malik: At least I’m not the sex toy this time. I’m sick and tired of all those fics where I’m some kind of slut.
Marik: But hikari dear, you do tend to dress like one, and quite often I may add.
Malik: Hmph!
Sakura: Now, now, play nice Mal-chan. Anyhoo, as I was saying, I finally got around to getting this baby going. Now that you’ve met our dear replicants and their, ahem, hunter, I’ve got another guessing game for you minna. Guess who I cast as Rachael, Tyrell’s ‘daughter’. And no, I’m not telling either. 8P Sorry sis. The one with the correct answer gets another chapter dedication. Good luck!!
Naruto: Hey! Aren’t ya forgetting something?
Sakura: Oh yeah! Thanks Naru-chan! I liiiiiiiive for feedback so tell me whatcha think, especially of my choice for Gaff’s part. Thanks to infinity to you Sherabo for your suggestion. Love ya!
by Sakura (aka L-sama no Miko)
This chappie’s dedicated to my dearest sister of my heart, Sherabo who not only guessed right, but whose advice – which was a huuuuuuuuuge help for this part BTW – and kind words I could never live without. Many, many, many thanks sis!!!
Chapter 1
Domino, November 2019
The brown haired man fiddled with the Voight-Kampff machine as he waited for the ‘suspect’ to come. He’d administered the test dozens of times before and knew the machine was in tip-top order, but he didn’t believe taking chances. There was still the chance of the detector breaking down. He was about to go over the machine once again when the door to the small office opened and a blond boy wearing a green jumpsuit entered. A small name tag on the suit read ‘Jounouchi’.
The blond stared a few moments at the man’s odd single spiked hairdo before sitting across from the man. The two exchanged a few words of small talk as the brunet adjusted the machine so that the scanners would line up with the boy’s hazel eyes correctly.
“So what’s this test fer again?” Jou asked nervously, fidgeting in his seat. “I don’t do well with tests, ya know. I get kinda nervous.”
“Could you sit still?” the man asked, slightly annoyed that he had to adjust the machine again.
“Oops sorry,” Jou said sheepishly. “So is this an I.Q. test or somethin’? I already had one of ‘em though.”
The brunet ignored the boy and sat down once the machine had been correctly aligned. “It’s really important that you answer as quick as you can,” he said, pulling out a folder.
“Uh… okay.”
“One one eight seven at Hunterwasser…” the brunet mumbled as he glanced over the boy’s files.
“’Ey… that’s the hotel,” the blond said, recognizing his address.
“Huh?” the brunet asked.
“That’s where I live,” replied the boy.
“Oh. Nice place?”
“’S alright I guess. I-Is that part of the test?”
“No. Just checking some facts.”
“Oh.”
“You’re in the desert. You’re walking along when…”
“Is that the test?” Jou interrupted.
“Yes. You’re in the desert. You’re walking along when you see a…”
“Which one?” the blond asked, interrupting again.
“What?” asked the man, getting a bit annoyed at the constant interruptions.
“Which desert?” the boy asked again.
“Doesn’t matter. It’s just a test,” the brunet replied.
“Yeah, but how come I’m there?”
“I don’t know. Maybe you got fed up or something.” He could feel a few veins starting to bulge from his forehead. He really hated the stupid ones. They always asked way too many questions. “So anyway, you’re in the desert walking along and you see a tortoise coming toward you…”
“What’s a tortoise?” the blond asked again.
The man let out an annoyed sigh. “You know what a turtle is?”
“Yeah. Ain’t never seen one though.”
“Same thing.”
“Oh.”
“You go over and flip the tortoise over on its back…”
“So do they make these questions fer ya or do ya write them down?” the blond asked, interrupting for the umpteenth time.
The man was sore pressed to ‘retire’ the boy right there and then, but then the captain would have his head for lunch if he’d make a mistake and retire a human instead of a replicant. Sighing again, he ignored the boy’s question and went on to the next part. “The tortoise is lying on its back, its belly cooking in the sun. It’s trying to get back on its feet, but can’t. It needs help, but you’re not helping.”
“Whadda ya mean I ain’t helpin’?!” snapped the blond, shooting up from his seat.
“You’re not helping the tortoise, why Jounouchi?” The boy glared at him dangerously, sensing it could get ugly, he held up his hands in a gesture of peace. “Look, they’re just questions Jounouchi. See?” he asked, holding up a few sheets of neatly typed lines. “This is a test that checks your feelings. That’s all.” The boy continued to glare at him, but sat back down, his anger cooled a bit. The brunet readjusted the machine again before asking. “Can we go on?” Jou nodded, not liking the test one bit.
“Describe the good things that come into your mind about your mother,” the man said again, peering at the readouts on the machine’s screens. The machine starts to beep ominously.
“My mother?” Jou asked.
“Yeah.”
“I’ll tell ya about my mother,” the blond says coolly. There was a sudden pop and the man went flying into the wall, chair and all, his coffee thermos shooting several feet into the air before raining down onto the desk, machine and floor.
Jou stood up calmly and raised the tiny gun he’d smuggled into the building. Without a single blink, he shot the man yet again, sending him through the wall into another office.
**************************************************
“A new life awaits you on the off world colonies!” proclaimed the advertising blimp hovering above, a holographic screen projecting the words Off World, Adventure, and New Life in brilliant neon green. “The chance to begin in a golden land of opportunity and adventure!”
The spiky haired man shook his head as he read his newspaper. He’d heard that same drivel over and over, day in and day out. He was really tired of it, in fact he was practically tired of everything. Domino never changed. It was always raining, the few remaining people of Japan had decided to live there all at the same time so it was a constant sea of umbrella bearing people every single day and night. Just like tonight and every other night since he and his wife Anzu had divorced.
She just up and left for the country, saying that she was annoyed with the noise and filth of the city. The truth was she couldn’t stand his work. Couldn’t live with the constant worry of having him coming home in a body bag. So she dumped a stack of divorce papers and a rather dingy apartment on him while she was probably having the time of her life.
He sighed, putting down the newspaper. He was about to walk away, head for home when one of the many noodle bar owners started shouting and waving him over, hoping to get another customer and hence more money. Deciding he had nothing better to do – not to mention he was kind of hungry – he strode over to the White Dragon and squeezed himself in between the other customers already eating. He took the blue jacket off his shoulders and shook off the rain before putting it back on and sitting down. He really should get himself a new umbrella, he had chided himself.
The old man smiled warmly at him, eager to make another sale. After glancing at the rain soaked and grimy menu that had been placed in front of him, the spiky haired man pointed to a particular item and held up four fingers. The old man nodded, still grinning while holding up two fingers.
“No,” the man said, “Four.” He held up two fingers on each hand. “Two, two. Four.” The old man made an ‘ahh’ sound then rushed to get the man’s order ready.
Within moments a nice steaming bowl of noodles was placed before him. Nodding appreciatively at the old man, he slid a few bills over the counter which the old man gleefully took. However, his meal was not to be enjoyed in peace. As soon as he was about to start digging in, two men came up behind him, one in a cop uniform while the other was dressed in tight black leather pants, a black tank top and red vest. A red headband held back his hair, which had been pulled back into a high ponytail. A dice earring hung from one ear.
The cop tapped him on the shoulder while the other leaned over. “It would be best if you’d follow me,” he said in a mixture of Japanese, Hungarian, German and various other languages which had become to be known as ‘city speak’.
The spiky haired man was fluent in ‘city speak’ as well, but wasn’t in the mood to let them know that. He waved the shop owner over to act as an interpreter.
“If you don’t comply,” the fancy dressed man said again, “I’ll be forced to arrest you.”
“He say you under arrest, if you no go with him,” the old man replied.
“Tell him he’s got the wrong guy,” the spiky haired man said before stuffing noodles into his mouth.
The black haired man frowned, knowing full well what he was up to. He’s played these games before. “Wrong guy my ass, Atem,” he said, “Everyone knows about the boogeyman of Domino.”
The spiky haired man, Atem, flinched at the word ‘boogeyman’. Gods he hated that nickname. Many of those who had seen him work back then used to call him that, especially when he was chasing down a rather difficult target.
“There’s only one Blade Runner I know who goes by that nickname,” the taller raven haired man said again.
“Hey say you Blade Runner,” the old man interpreted.
“Tell him I’m eating,” spat Atem, refusing to budge.
The taller man then turned to the old man, seeing that Atem wasn’t about to give him the time of day. “Would you please tell this baka here that I’m here on Captain Ishtar’s orders and that he didn’t care what condition I brought him in.”
Atem continued to eat, though he did flinch slightly at the mention of the name Ishtar. It couldn’t be good if his old boss was involved.
“Hey say you idiot,” the old man spoke up, “He say boss Ishtar tell him bring you. He say boss man no care how you look.”
Sighing and putting down his chopsticks, Atem turned to the raven haired man. “Marik huh?” he asked. The man nodded. Resigning himself to a possible nasty fate, which he’d so desperately hoped he’d finally gotten away from, the spiky haired man rose from his seat and followed the two to a nearby waiting hover car known as a spinner, but not before quickly grabbing his dinner.
“You know,” began the raven haired man, still using city speak, as the cop started the spinner’s ascent, “I told the captain I could handle things on my own. Give me the job and I’ll take those phonies down real good.” He mimed shooting a gun. “But noooooo Ishtar kept on insisting I’d go and get you. He thinks you’re hot stuff, the most badass Blade Runner around. Hmph! You don’t look like much to me. Just look at those clothes, when was the last time you washed them. And what’s with that hair? It’s a good thing you’re not with the department anymore or we’d have our reputation ruined.”
Atem just ignored him, continuing to eat his noodles.
*****************************************************
A tall man with tan skin and spiky platinum blond hair sat at a paper littered desk, going over that day’s reports when the door to his office burst open. He looked up at the rather annoyed, if not irate, spiky haired man at the doorway, a taller raven haired man just behind him.
“Hi ya, Atem!” he greeted, smugly smirking.
“If you weren’t such a stubborn jackass, I wouldn’t have to resort to such measures,” the blond said, “Have a seat ‘pharaoh’.” Atem continued to frown and glare at his former boss, especially since he kept insisting on using his old codename in spite of his current status.
The raven haired man glared at the shorter brunet briefly, but said nothing before pushing past him and sat on a chair in one of the corners. He wanted to be close by, just in case the former cop did anything rash.
“Oh come on!” Marik whined, “Don’t be like that I’ve got four skin jobs running loose in my city.”
The spiky haired man reluctantly sat down and waited for the police captain to explain further. The blond pulled out a bottle of beer and two glasses. He poured himself a drink then one for his former lieutenant.
“Like I said, there’s a group of skin jobs running around. They somehow managed to hijack a shuttle, killed the crew and passengers. Now they’re here. The wrecked shuttle was found floating not too far from here that’s how we know they’re in the city.”
“Kind of embarrassing don’t you think?” Atem said, reaching for the drink, giving Marik a nod of thanks.
“Only if someone finds out,” the captain said, glaring slightly at him, “which by the way won’t happen ‘cause you’re going to find them and take care of them.”
“The hell I will,” spat Atem after taking a long swig of his beer, “You forgot. I don’t work here anymore. Tell Honda to do it, he’s good at this.”
“Actually I did,” Marik said, frowning at his untouched glass.
The spiky haired man grasped his glass tightly, not liking the sudden sinking feeling he got from his friend’s response. “So?”
“He’s still breathing.” Marik took a swig from his glass. “That is unless someone unplugs him.” Atem’s crimson eyes widened in shock. He remembered the tough as nails brunet and how good he was at fighting. These rouge replicants had to have been extremely powerful to have rendered one of Domino’s finest Blade Runners virtually useless. Either that or Honda had gotten sloppy, which was highly unlikely given the man’s no nonsense way of handling things.
“He was good,” the blond said taking another drink, “But not good enough. You’re better, that’s why I need you pal. I need that old Blade Runner magic of yours.”
Atem stared at the blond for a few moments, as if considering his request. “I was quit when I came in here, I’m twice as quit now. See you around Marik. Thanks for the beer by the way,” he said getting up to leave.
“Stop right there, pharaoh!” yelled the blond, making the shorter man pause as he reached for the doorknob. “You know the score as well as I do, if you’re not a cop, you’re nobody!”
The raven haired cop stared at the spiky haired man coolly as he placed the tiny origami bird he’d been working on onto the table next to the chair. Curious as to what Atem’s response would be, he remained silent, continuing to watch the scene with keen interest.
Said Blade Runner turned around and walked back to the desk. “No choice huh?” he asked.
“’Fraid not my friend,” the blond replied.
Once again resigning himself, Atem allowed the taller blond to lead him and the still shadowing brunet to the resource room. Marik then sat at one of the computers and began typing. Within a few seconds, a video of Honda’s V-K test of a blond boy began playing. The blond glanced over at his shorter friend and inwardly sighed at his apparent bored expression.
“We got a report of an escape from several of the off world colonies a couple weeks ago,” he said, ignoring the video for the moment, “Seven replicants. Five male, two female. They massacred twenty-three people then hijacked a shuttle.” That got the shorter man interested for he quickly turned from the video, curious, “Air patrol spotted the ship in the sea. Well, three nights ago, they were spotted trying to break into the Kaiba Corp. building. Two got cooked trying to get through the electro-field, we lost the others.”
Atem went back to watching the video, but gave a curt nod for the captain to go on.
“We thought they might try to sneak in again as new employees so I had Honda run V-K tests on all the new employees. Looks like he got a live one.”
The video continued playing while Marik began typing again. The video paused then shrunk and moved to one of the corners on the screen, freezing on a close up of the boy. At the bottom of the screen, it read:
Replicant (M) Des: Jounouchi, Katsuya
Nexus 6 N6MAC41717
Incept Date: 25 January 2017
Func: Combat/Loader (Nuc. Fiss.)
Phys: Lev. A Ment: Lev. C
“That’s Jounouchi,” Marik said, “Heavy ammo loader on one of the military’s off world bases. He can lift four atomic loads all day and night. The only way he can get hurt, is if you kill him.”
“What I don’t get is,” Atem said, taking in the info on the screen, “why did they even bother come here? They should know they’re not exactly legal down here. It’s weird for them to do that. And why Kaiba Corp.?”
“You tell me, pal,” Marik said turning to him, “That’s what you’re here for.” He went back to typing and the screen changed to a rotating picture of the head a young man around his twenties or so with long white hair and sharp piercing chocolate eyes.
“Who’s that?” the spiky haired man asked.
“Nexus 6, Bakura Touzoukou, incept date 2016,” replied the blond as he continued to type. The picture, like the video shrunk and the info on the man appeared below.
Replicant (M) Des: Touzoukuou, Bakura
Nexus 6 N6MAA10816
Incept Date: 2 September 2016
Func: Combat, Colonization Defense Prog.
Phys: Lev. A Ment: Lev. A
“He’s a combat model,” the blond said not bothering to wait for him to take in the info and continued to type. “Optimum self sufficiency, he’s probably the leader.”
The picture changed again to a blond boy around eighteen or so. Atem’s eyes widened when he noticed his resemblance to his friend, however the hair was less spiky and much longer and his lilac eyes were a shade or two lighter.
The blond beside him let out a slight chuckle at Atem’s surprise. He too was surprised, but not by much since he knew Kaiba had their way of acquiring one’s DNA without them knowing it. The information changed as well as the blond typed.
Replicant (M) Des: Ishtar, Malik
Atem’s eyes bulged again, but said nothing as the rest of the info on the current model came up to read:
Nexus 6 N6MAB61216
Incept Date: 23 December 2016
Func: Retrained (9 Feb., 2018) Polit. Homicide
Phys: Lev. A Ment: Lev. B
“That’s Malik,” Marik said with just a hint of pride and jealousy, the ladies always thought him to be rather handsome and the blond knew it. Having a copy of himself running around, no matter how good looking, was a serious threat to his masculinity. “He’s been trained for off world assassination. You’ve heard of ‘Beauty and the Beast’ right, well he’s both. I’d watch myself around him if I were you.” He went back to typing, not bothering to warn his former co-worker.
A picture of a spiky haired boy about sixteen or so – though he looked much younger due to the huge violet eyes – appeared on the screen, earning a gasp from the spiky haired man. If he didn’t know better, Atem would have sworn he was looking at a mirror image of himself.
“The fourth skin job is Yugi,” Marik said, ignoring the heated glare Atem had been giving him the past few seconds. It was obvious the shorter man didn’t appreciate a look alike of himself being referred to as a ‘skin job’.
Just as with the others, information appeared at the bottom of the screen.
Replicant (M) Des: Yugi
Nexus 5 N5MAB21416
Incept Date: 4 June 2016
Func: Leisure
Phys: Lev. A Ment: Lev. B
“A basic Nexus 5 pleasure model, a standard item these days for the idle rich and military on the off world colonies.” The blond stopped typing and turned to his friend who hadn’t taken his eyes off the boy’s picture. Marik allowed himself a few seconds of amusement before going on. “Kaiba designed them to copy us humans in everyway, except emotions. They thought if let alone long enough, a replicant could develop emotions on their own so Kaiba had a kind of failsafe added to the Nexus models.”
“Which is?”
“A four year life span,” was Marik’s matter-of-fact reply.
“So that’s why…” Atem murmured.
“Well,” Marik said pouring himself a beer, which he had brought with him. “it appears that Honda found out that the V-K machine doesn’t work too great on a Nexus 6. Kaiba has volunteered to allow us to test it again on their demo model. I just hope it was a glitch because if V-K doesn’t work, we’re up the creek without a paddle.”
Atem said nothing as he took the beer the blond was offering him and downed it in one shot. He rose from his seat, leaving the blond and his raven haired shadow.
~TBC~
Sakura: Yahoo!!! Got this party started!!!
Yami: What is it with you and turning my aibou into a slave all the time onna?!
Sakura: Oh come on, pharaoh! He’s got uke written all over him!
Bakura: She’s got a point, you know.
Malik: At least I’m not the sex toy this time. I’m sick and tired of all those fics where I’m some kind of slut.
Marik: But hikari dear, you do tend to dress like one, and quite often I may add.
Malik: Hmph!
Sakura: Now, now, play nice Mal-chan. Anyhoo, as I was saying, I finally got around to getting this baby going. Now that you’ve met our dear replicants and their, ahem, hunter, I’ve got another guessing game for you minna. Guess who I cast as Rachael, Tyrell’s ‘daughter’. And no, I’m not telling either. 8P Sorry sis. The one with the correct answer gets another chapter dedication. Good luck!!
Naruto: Hey! Aren’t ya forgetting something?
Sakura: Oh yeah! Thanks Naru-chan! I liiiiiiiive for feedback so tell me whatcha think, especially of my choice for Gaff’s part. Thanks to infinity to you Sherabo for your suggestion. Love ya!