> Mr. Habishi stood in the rain, his umbrella creating a circle
>of dryness for him to stand in. A single light pierced the night sky.
>Mr. Habishi watched as the light came closer. The motorcycle
>screeched to a stop. The man on it wore a black leather jacket and
>blue jeans tucked into knee high black boots. A brown leather glove,
>tucked into the sleeve of his jacket covered his right hand. On his
>left hand he wore a black cloth glove with metal covering the back of
>his hand and his first knuckles. Immediately below the knuckles where
>four gems, two yellow, one blue, and one green, with a small trench
>running from the blue to the green. A motorcycle helmet hid his face
>from view. He had a sword strapped to his side and an elaborate
>dagger with a wolf's head carved into the hilt in his belt.
> "Nice of you to come, Mr. Gabriev."
> "Pleasure's all mine," he said in faulty Japanese with a rich
>English accent.
> "Care to remove your helmet. I like to look people in the eye
>when I talk to them."
> "Then let's take this inside. I don't like the rain."
> The two made their way inside, and Gordon removed his helmet.
> "Now why did you want to see me?"
> "Take a look at this man." Mr. Habishi held out a picture to
>Gordon. Gordon examined it and gave it back.
> "Who's this."
> "This man is a world renown terrorist. He has blown up many of
>our factories and labs. His work has taken our research back years.
>Research that could benefit mankind."
> "And you want me to take him out."
> "You have mastered an art lost long ago. It is my belief that
>you may be one of the only people in this world who can possibly beat
>him."
> "And payment? I'd love to help make the world a better place,
>but I've got a busy agenda. Let me see it."
> "Take a look." he said gesturing towards a video display. The
>black and white screen showed a glass display case with a stone tablet
>resting inside it.
> "A manuscript of the Claire Bible." Gordon gasped.
> "And it's yours if you can bring me proof of this man's death."
> "This guys a goner. What's his name?"
> "That's the thing. He has no name."
> "What! How the hell am I supposed to find him if I don't know
>his name?"
> "It's not like you'd find him in the yellow pages."
> "Couldn't hurt to check. This is going to make things harder.
>Where do I begin searching?"
> "Try Nerima. Reports saw him there last."
> "Fine. Don't worry, I'll deal Justice to that fiend. Oh, and by
>the way. Have you ever seen one of these?" Gordon held out a small
>orange ball with three stars on it.
> "Hmm, I think I've seen one of those somewhere in Nerima. Maybe
>you'll find it on your mission. Why? What is it?"
> "Nothing." Gordon said, pocketing the Dragonball. "Just an old
>relic. There are seven of them, and I'd like to get them all."
> "Well, I hope you find them, and I hope you find that man."
> "Thanks. Farewell."
> Gordon slid his helmet back on before stepping out into the rain.
>He revved up his bike and zipped down the wet streets.
> "Ivy?" The Ivysaur said from the harness on the back of the bike.
> "I know, Zelgadis. I've got a bad feeling about this too."
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