The chase started a few seconds ago, but it REALLY starts the moment I collide into a food stall and get a bunch of kebabs all over me. Falling to my lesser nature, I do take some of that meat and shovel it into my mouth as I stand back up and hope the deliciousness of it can fuel me to catch back up.
I’m not sure how well it works, but I do sprint as fast as I can and reach back up to the front of the pack in this ridiculous foot chase.
Ohata King, screaming for his life, running past the Nebuta parade floats at top speed, with Mighty Slammer close behind, making rocket jumps to catch up. Nami not too far behind them either (she, of course, is the one who pushed me into the food stall in the first place). King’s mafia men some distance behind her, and Kusata and the Eastern Union agents running about even with them. Lamar’s way in the back, having beaten up enough mafia members back at the start
The main thing I’m impressed about is that Ohata King, for as pudgy as he looks, is actually an amazing runner. He probably thinks his entire life is on the line, and actually he’s sort of right.
I’m also impressed that people are generally staying out of this. No civilian heroes trying to take any of us down, because honestly I’m sort of expecting to see some attack come out of nowhere that messes everything up.
I’m trying to go as fast as I can, but this old criminal dude and the crazy cyber-armor lady are going so fast that my scrawny body can hardly keep up!
The droplets of rain have turned into a drizzle. My yukata is getting wet and now I completely regret having had put it all on. For the five minutes it kept me stealthy, now I gotta go home in this thing, and I didn’t even tie my hair back of anything. The festival’s ruined, or else it would be if it hadn’t already been ruined by the gunshots and huge chase.
I fight my way through the rain, though, so that I can reach the front of the pack. I’m not letting Mighty Slammer get away with the dude I was supposed to subdue!
Nami, seeing me catching up, seems quite determined to keep me back behind. She knocks over a recycling bin and all its empty plastic bottles go hurtling over the street (extremely rude!), and I just barely manage to jump over them all—
And then of course I land with my right foot directly on one of those one-liter water bottles that people apparently buy and carry with them all day to drink. My foot slips, my body shifts, and now my running speed is increased drastically, with deadly consequences.
I trip up all over myself and nearly fall to the ground, but my body keeps its focus. I stay steady as I can, running as well as I can, breathing as much as I can. If I fall over again, that’s probably it for me for the entire chase, and I’m not about to let that happen.
Nami pushes a bystander into my path, a middle-aged woman with a terrified expression on her face, but I manage to slip around and dodge her. We pass a parade float with a bunch of cowering festival dancers, and for a second I think Nami’s going to throw in a Molotov cocktail or something, but it seems she’s too merciful to be truly evil.
Finally, I’m about even with this annoying blue haired woman. She’s caused me an endless amount of pain these last few weeks, and I’m about to end this right here and now.
“You will die!” she shouts through the rain.
Apparently her killing move is to stick her leg out and try to trip me, because that’s exactly what she does next. But it also slows her down just enough that she’s defenseless for a second.
And in that second, I decide not to hold back anymore—
I punch Nami in the face as hard as I can and she goes reeling backwards until she falls into the middle of the quickly emptying street. K.O., flawless victory (besides the kebab stand and the plastic bottle I guess).
But I’m a little bit too late, because Mighty Slammer’s already grabbed Ohata King and taken him in her arms. He struggles against him, but it’s clear he’s way too tired to put up a fight at this point.
Mighty Slammer turns down an alleyway, this time at least not a dead end. I turn down and keep my pace up, but if I don’t hurry, she’s just going to rocket onto the roof and get away like before. That’s certainly what she’s preparing to do, by the looks of it.
But then something miraculous happens.
The drizzle picks up. The rain turns into a storm. Thunder booms in the distance, and my visibility shrinks to just barely past my line of sight. I really hope my cellular is as waterproof as the phone company claimed.
The rain pours so hard that Mighty Slammer isn’t able to use her rocket boots here; without the magnetic levitation of skate parks, the rockets are already too dangerous for normal use. Here, in the middle of a storm, it’s dangerous enough that even Mighty Slammer is taking it seriously.
So she stops and turns around. I’ve cornered her, for the third time in the past month for those of you keeping score at home.
Ohata King still struggles in her grasp, but he seems more miffed about the rain than anything else.
“Hand him over,” I say. “Nice and easy, and nobody has to get hurt. Except him, I guess.”
Mighty Slammer leans her head back and explodes into laughter.