One Punch Man (Razilin x Moose)

R

Razilin

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Original poster
@Moose

FIFTEEN YEARS AGO

Ragged gasps and pounding heartbeats echoed through the nighttime streets. Adrenaline surged through the fifteen-year-old boy's veins, fueled by ice-cold terror. Only minutes ago, his life was normal. His worries, mundane. Only minutes ago, it all changed. Only minutes ago, he watched as a monster gutted his parents.

He couldn't even describe it. It was all tentacles and pustules, boils, and rampaging mounds of flesh. It came out of nowhere, breaking through their apartment window and decimating everything in sight. Other families and other screamed echoed at its arrival. His mother was caught in its snakelike appendage first, crushed instantly. He and his father ran into the hallway, only for the latter to be caught.

Now the young teen was prey to a predator he could not begin to understand. Never had he experienced such terror. What hell had he stepped into? What hope did he have?

In retrospect, he should never have stumbled into the alleyway -- there was nothing at the other end but a high wooden fence. He turned and faced the oncoming doom.

"Oh God," he moaned, falling flat on his rump and crab-walking on his hands and feet in a vain attempt to escape. "Someone...someone help me!"

At his beleaguered cry, the rapport of gunfire and the eruption of a small explosion answered.

When he opened his eyes, he saw the monster shredded to pieces from both bullets and grenades, reduced to nothing more than quivering pieces of flesh.

Beyond that garish scene was his savior: a statuesque woman in a black coat. She was beautiful, with long blonde hair cascading around a heart-shaped face. She didn't seem young, but neither did she appear old. Something about her smooth skin and high cheekbones made her seem ageless. A smoking assault rifle was in her hands.

"You're lucky to have survived," she told him. "Everyone else in the neighborhood didn't."

He said nothing, only stared and marveled that he was yet alive. But there was a question, a need burning within his fear-filled eyes. And she noticed.

"You want more than to survive, don't you, young man?" She knelt before him. "You want to know what happened tonight. And you want to do something about it. I can see it in your eyes."

The teen wiped the tears growing in his eyes as the look in them hardened from fear into cold steel. "Yes," he said simply.

The woman smiled. It was not kind. Rather, it was pleased. Expectant.

"Good." She stood. "There are monsters in this world, boy. I hunt them for a living. Not all of them are inhuman, unfortunately. Some are very much human. And I hunt them, too. Do you want to make all of this worthwhile?"

"Yes."

Again, that pleased smile. "Then come with me. My name is Karin. I fight the monsters of this world. I hunt, I fight, I kill. My prey are the predators who consume the weak and the helpless. When things go bump in the night, I bump back....And I've been looking for someone with eyes like yours...."

She paused.

"What is your name, boy?"

"Sam. Sam Ebayan."

"If you come with me, Sam, you will leave your old life behind. All I can offer is a path of violence and hardship. At the end of the path, should you survive it, is the vengeance you seek."

Sam stood up, his eyes resolute.

"What are we waiting for?"

---

J CITY
THE HEROES' ASSOCIATION
TWO MONTHS AGO

This wasn't something he was expecting.

Sam Ebayan had almost nothing to do with the Heroes' Association. While it was a governing body for the various superpowered individuals that protected the cities on a daily basis, it had no bearing on him personally. His battles were not confined by city limits or national borders. He took a contract, ran down his target, and killed them. Not exactly the kind of thing the conventional "hero" dabbled in.

However, all that changed when he received a text message from his mentor, Karin.

Help me.

Calling her brought up a dead tone. Searching her apartment revealed that she had been out for over two weeks. Checking in with her usual contacts and business associates confirmed the same. That wasn't worrisome by itself -- Karin, like Sam, often went on missions that required complete radio silence over the course of days or weeks.

What was concerning was that she wasn't on a mission.

Her last contract was over a month ago and none of her business associates recruited her for an assignment since. For all intents and purposes, the woman he looked up to as a mother had simple vanished.

The only lead Sam had found in the last week of searching was that her last assignment -- the details fully sealed and encrypted -- was from Amai Mask, the Rank 1, Class A hero and the public face of the Heroes' Association.

Contacting Amai Mask was next to impossible. The man had enough money, power, and influence to have an array of bureaucratic red tape to screen emails, texts, phone calls, and other conventional means of direct communication. Even an appointment was going to put him on a six-month waiting list.

Sam had only one conceivable way to meet Amai Mask and interrogate him about the whereabouts of his mentor: join the Association.

He looked up at the great glass doors of the Association's recruitment office and stepped through....

---

J CITY
THE HEROES' ASSOCIATION, J-CITY BRANCH OFFICE
PRESENT DAY

"Your service record thus far has been exemplary," the young woman said from across her desk. The spartan room served its purpose as a hollow shell from which the Heroes' Association's ancillary staff could review, reward, and reassign its heroes. Now, it was Sam's turn. The woman in the smartly-cut suit continued as she flipped through his files on her tablet, "With all the successful missions and heroic acts you've underdone in the last two months, I'm happy to award you with your next rank up. Congratulations, you'll be entering B-rank, Mr. Ebayan." She quickly corrected, "I mean, Skullman."

Sam Ebayan sat across from her in his most professional attire, a black suit, gray button-down, and a black unmarked tie. He looked older than his thirty years, with premature wrinkles around his eyes and mouth and gray winging the temples of his close-cropped jet-colored hair. He made sure to keep completely dressed, even wearing a pair of leather gloves, all to hide the various scars and injuries he'd accumulated in his years of mercenary work prior to joining the Association.

"I'd prefer not to use my codename," he stated. "I've...never been much fond of it." The moniker was assigned to him by the Association, but he suspected someone in the ranks did a thorough background check on him. It was, after all, the same nickname he'd been given as a mercenary.

He leaned forward intently. "Though I am glad for the rank up, I must inquire: What of my request? I've made it twice, now...."

The woman shook her head. "I'm sorry, Mr. Ebayan, but Amai Mask is a very busy man."

He grit his teeth in frustration. His one solid lead, still so elusive. He'd kept looking for others, but Amai Mask was the only one that had the potential to pan out.

"I heard a rumor that there was going to be an investigation," Sam went on, banking on a hunch, "about the Seafolk returning to J City. No evidence yet, but the populace believes that the Association is doing nothing."

The woman guardedly admitted, "There is an assignment like that in the works..."

"I want in on it," he demanded with just the barest of edge. A more high profile mission would put him on Amai Mask's radar. Maybe it would be enough to allow for an audience.... At the woman's hesitation, the mercenary pressed, "You are holding my service record. I am more than qualified."

A pause. Then, "Very well. I will recommend you for the J-City Seafolk investigation." She turned her tablet toward him. On it was a dossier and a picture. "This is Christopher Reidinger. He works at a pharmaceutical company here in J-City."

"What does a lab geek have to do with the Seafolk?"

"An attack occurred near the company a few days ago. No fatalities, but a lot of property damage. Eyewitness reports suggest this man was one of the few at the scene."

"So he might have some idea of where the Seafolk inserted and extracted," Sam reasoned.

The woman blinked. "I'm sorry?"

In laymen's terms, he clarified, "Entry and retreat."

"Oh. So, when can you begin?"

Sam stood up. "As soon as I walk out the door."

---

"Right this way, sir."

One of the pharmaceutical company's technicians proved helpful enough to guide Sam to Reidinger's lab. As they walked the sterile-appearing halls, Sam took in the sights through the various laboratories' windows. Rooms full of lab-coated men and women working diligently at their craft. Beakers, distillers, and chemicals were all at hand. Some of the labs had delicate robotics performing some of the procedures to manufacture the company's laundry list of medications and mixtures.

"Here we are," the tech said, stopping at one lab.

"Thank you," Sam replied.

"Hey, anything for the Heroes' Association. You guys are great!"

"I'm sure they are," Sam murmured under his breath as the tech went about his business. Sam opened the door and let himself in.

"Christopher Reidinger?" he called out into the empty-appearing lab, "My name is Sam Ebayan, Heroes' Association. I have a few questions for you...."
 
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14 Years ago:

Chris extracted the little turtle from the claw of the crab, stomping on the crab in the process. Shell damaged and arm missing, the small ghost crab ran off to hide and recuperate. He looked the turtle in the eyes, feeling its mind rub up against his own, he went inside and asked how the turtle was. The turtle expressed both relief and pain. He looked at the turtle's injuries, he was only 13, but he knew enough that the turtle needed help. He walked home, injured turtle in hand, bringing the little one to his mother.

"Oh, what's this?" She asked, patting the turtle on the head, "A new pet?" She asked with a sly grin, remembering all the others that he had brought in, insisting that they wanted to be his pet. She picked up the injured fin, "Oh..." She pat Chris on the head, "What say you, we give this little guy a bandage and see how he is." She said with a broad grin.

She took Chris over to her home office and put the turtle on the stainless steel table, getting gauze and disinfectant. She carefully applied the disinfectant, the small turtle protesting mightily throughout. Once the disinfecting was over the turtle calmed down and she wrapped the fin in gauze, handing him over to Chris, "There you go." She said with a smile, "We can't let him out in the ocean until his fin is healed..." She hesitated a moment and gave a sigh, "What's his name?" She asked Chris.

He looked carefully at the turtle, and up to his mother, "Jameson." Jameson cooed softly at the announcement, rubbing his head against Chris's hand.

She grabbed a jar of green stuff and handed it to Chris, "Spirulina, it's what he'll have to eat for a while, if you want to keep him, I would suggest you clean out the pool, and refill it with salt water. I'll deal with your father when he gets back." She grinned widely, her son would be no salaryman.

*****

Jameson was full grown and Chris sat next to his pool, the glass roof over head allowing him to bathe in the sunlight while in the comfort of an armchair, in his pajamas. Jameson had a few friends now, turtles that swam with him, his little turtle rescue was working out. Jameson crawled out of the pool and waddled over to Chris, setting his head on his friend's legs. Chris looked down to his companion and smiled.

A few words managed to break through the usual train of though of images and sensory data, as they did on occassion, but this time was different.

"More.... Like... Chris..." Came the three words, Chris looked to Jameson, slightly worried at this set of words. He began to glow and Chris shot up in his chair, settling the recliner down as Jameson stood on his hand fins. They began to resolve into feet as he grew more and more.

He burst through the roof and Chris screamed, "Jameson!" Jameson looked down at him and grinned, now having lips that curled over his spiked beak.

"Chris!" He said happily, "We can go to the ocean now! We don't have to wait for people to be asleep so that they don't see you carry me!" He took a few steps and stumbled into the sushi shop across the street where the owner occassionally gave him a treat when he followed Chris in. He looked to the shop owner, "My friend!" He said, "Any sushi for me today?" He asked as the man screamed and visibly pissed himself. Chris paused everyone's perception of time for the next few blocks, making the drivers of cars all stomp on their breaks before the pause.

"Jameson." He said, walking over to his now 4 and a quarter meter tall friend, "You remember me, you're my friend, not a monster?"

"What makes you think I am a monster?" Jameson said sadly, before looking all around, "Oh..."

"These people all are going to think you're a seafolk, all right buddy? Let's get you back in the house and clean up, I can't completely wipe memories, there is physical evidence, but they won't remember it's you." He said.

Jameson nodded and crawled into the house, lying on the floor in the middle of Chris's living room. He released his hold on people making the memory adjustments and ran back to his house, cleaning up quickly.

****

Chris lay next to his pool, the contractors were quick, just like he had asked, and they even gave him a family and friends discount because he convinced the foreman they were old drinking buddies. He was still disappointed he could no longer have his glass roof. There were a few small paddling pools next to the normal pool now, each turtle of the rescue got their own pool, though they would occassionally crawl over to join a friend. A few of them were even with Jameson.

Chris felt his coworkers talking about him, and probed, someone at the office was asking questions about him. He looked for the mind of the man who was asking the questions but couldn't find it. He shot up in his lawn chair, looking down to his blue plaid pajamas, "Oh no..."

Jameson craned his head to look at him, "What is it?"

"Someone is immune to my psychic powers and they're asking questions, at work..." He tore off his shirt and ran to his room, putting on his jeans and t-shirt before putting on his lab coat. He grabbed his shoes at the door and slipped them on and ran to his office, making everyone ignore them along the way. He pulled his ID card out of his lab coat and swiped in, invading the mind of the head of security to change the record to state that he had actually arrived one hour before everyone else. He ran down the hall and saw the man standing in the doorway of his office.

He slowed to a walk, breathing heavily, "E-Excuse me." He stated breathlessly, clearing his throat, "Who are you?" He ascertained from his coworkers that the man was from the association, which explained his immunity, if anyone would be immune, it would be someone from their offices.
 
"E-excuse me, who are you?"

Sam was expecting a researcher in a dress shirt, tie, and coat. He supposed one out of three wasn't too far off. The first thing that struck him about Reidinger was his lacksidasical work attire of T-shirt and jeans. The second was his relative youth. Sam was expecting someone older, maybe a little on the graying side, not a young man about a decade his junior.

The mercenary extended a hand. "Mr. Reidinger? My name is Sam Ebayan, Heroes' Association. I understand that you are an eyewitness at a monster attack recently. The Association just has a few questions for you. We are concerned that the sighted monster was one of the Seafolk.

"Given their King's brief assault on the city in the past, you can understand how the return of the Seafolk would perturb the citizens of J-City. Since you were on-site, I'd like to know what the creature actually looked like and if he was indeed one of the Seafolk. Furthermore, the monster ended up disappearing shortly after its arrival. Did you see what happened to it?"
 
He ground his teeth as he wracked his brain for what to tell this man, a hero would probably be prepared for a mind invasion, even if they weren't completely immune. He took the hand of the mercenary shakily as his mind raced, searching for the right way to lie. He tried to figure out what everyone else would have perceived it as a month ago, "Yes, I am Christopher Reidinger, and I did see the creature..." He tried to remember the image that he implanted in the mind of the sushi man and even reached out for his mind, but he couldn't feel his presence, or the presence of anyone else. He began to visibly sweat as the realization struck him as to why he couldn't read this man's mind.

He remembered the Deep Sea King, and he had cloaked his house, keeping his parents asleep through the venture.

"I-I I saw... It was a..." He couldn't figure out a lie, "Large shelled... Beast..." He gulped, "It looked like a turtle... But it vanished, literally, didn't walk off, just... Poof. I thought the hero who destroyed the Sea King took care of it?" He asked, hoping that he would take this explanation.
 
Ebayan studied the young man intently. For a simple question-answer session, he seemed unduly perturbed, if the sweat on his brow were any indication. The stutter to his words, the pauses in his speech -- Christopher Reidinger knew more than he claimed. It seemed that the Heroes' Association's lead was going to bear fruit. Ebayan resolved to follow this one closely.

He gave his friendliest smile -- an admittedly rather cold and distant upturn of his lips -- and said, "There have been no confirmatory reports of Caped Baldy dealing with this new threat. However, it seems you were, fortunately, merely a bystander at the scene. Thank you for the details on the creature. Have a pleasant rest of your day, Mr. Reidinger." Ebayan shook his hand and showed himself out.

But he didn't leave. Not yet.

He went to his car parked out in the parking lot to grab a moderate-sized backpack, then went to the back of the pharmaceutical company where the loading docks for supplies and equipment was located. He kept his eye out for security cameras, keeping out of the field of view, and used a drain pipe running along the side of the building to climb up to the roof.

Having found his perch, Ebayan changed out of his business suit for the equipment within the backpack: black fatigues, heavy gloves, combat boots, and a duty belt of pouches, extra ammunition clips, and a holster for a sidearm. He retrieved a knife and handgun from the pack as well, tucking these into his belt after quickly inspecting the gun's clip and chamber. Finally, he took out a black helmet painted with a skull on the faceplate. Like the rest of his gear, the helmet showed signs of heavy use with scratches, dents, and nicks marring the paintjob. He slipped it over his head and secured the next strap.

He'd already noted the entrances and exits around the building. He could at least monitor them from up here on the roof. He drew a compact pair of binoculars from one of the pouches on his belt and settled in for a stake-out.

Christopher Reidinger wasn't telling him the truth. Ebayan planned on following him. If that didn't pan out, he could always check out the site of the monster attack itself, but he was betting that Reidinger knew more than he let on....
 
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Christopher pursed his lips as the man immediately stated that the legendary hero hadn't been spotted and immediately also absolved him of any possible guilt. He was terrible at lying, but he wasn't stupid.

Once the man was out of range and his powers became accessible again, he searched the minds all around to see if there was anyone who saw him truly leaving, and while he did leave the building, no one saw him walking down the street, no one saw him driving away. He huffed softly as he reached out for the minds of any birdwatchers available before walking into his lab. There were a few birdwatcher NEETs around and he prodded them to decide to go out birdwatching. Selectively going into the minds of each of them and making them think that a bird they were excited about made a call in the direction of his building.

He closed his eyes and saw through theirs. He held his breath while they looked around for any sign of the bird they thought they heard, and gritted his teeth when he saw brief glimpses of a man on the roof, changing into black fatigues. They all went back inside and went on the birdwatching forum they all occupied and all asked each other about the individual bird sounds they thought they heard and wondered on why they had all heard different ones.

Chris turned his attention away from them, tapping his fingers on the stainless steel counter, he stared at the experimental drugs, kept next to his prescription of Ritalin that had a valid signature by another doctor, and had been gotten from a pharmacy, but neither of them would remember him. He picked up his bottle and puled out two ritalin, taking them both. He reached out to Jameson, "Jameson, we have a problem, I have to pretend I'm at work for a while. I will be sending the fish seller into the house with your lunch, don't leave your pool when he comes in. I'm trying to figure out how to deal with this guy from the hero's association who is immune to my powers."

"Ok..." Jameson thought sadly, feelings of sadness and a mild bit of loneliness crossed his mind even as a few hawksbill turtles swam with him.

Chris steepled his fingers together, knowing that the man would be watching for him. He had to act like his coworkers had stated he acted, which was like a workaholic who only didn't dress nice because he often was the first one to arrive and the last one to go home. He spun on the stool which was one of two chairs in the office, changing the perception of the test subject volunteers to make sure they actually came to his office like they were supposed to. He changed the minds of them who could show up to have appointments at one hour intervals.

He went and sat in his comfy chair, staring at the stool and waiting. Each one came in and stared blankly at him for the hour they were there, calmly leaving and going about their business moments after the next one showed up. The ritalin began to kick in and his mind raced as the amphetamines worked their magic on his concentration, thereby temporarily honing his powers.

He focused his powers of awareness around him, looking for the one spot he couldn't look to get a good idea of where the thorn in his side was. He found that it wasn't a simple psychic resistance, simply a null zone, there wasn't a barrier, just emptiness. He gritted his teeth as he concentrated, trying to penetrate that null zone to no avail. He breathed heavily, it had been three hours since the man had met him.

He concentrated on a pebble in the gardens next to the company building, and lifted it up, throwing it up to the air and releasing his hold on it a few feet above the null zone, if nothing else, to annoy the man. He estimated the approximate center and hoped that's where the man was.
 
Ebayan blinked as he felt something small bounce off his helmet. He looked down and saw a pebble. However, he saw no one on the ground who could have thrown it.

Must be Reidinger, he thought. He's the only one who would suspect I'm here. So how did he toss a rock at me? There were any number of possibilities...all of them involving powers. Reidinger has abilities and isn't registered with the Association. So he's a freelancer at best and a loose thread at worst.

Perhaps that's why he was lying earlier? Maybe he has his own reasons to stay out off the Association's radar.

Ebayan reevaluated his plan to stake out the young man. He already knows I'm up here somehow. Stealth seems to be a moot point. Time for the direct approach.

He had a good idea of the arrangement of offices in the building with respect to the rooftop, so he set up some rappelling gear so he could drop down to the window of Reidinger's office. It seemed he was in luck, as the apparent influx of Reidinger's visitors had slowed.

As soon as he noticed that the other man was alone, Ebayan, in full gear, rapped his gloved knuckles on the window. "We need to talk, Reidinger." The mercenary wasn't terribly concerned about an altercation between them. Reidinger had powers, but Ebayan's immunity to most direct superpowered attacks meant he largely only had to worry about conventional methods of violence. And Ebayan had years of experience handling conventional violence.

Nevertheless, it would be better for everyone involved if this ended bloodlessly. There were civilians in the building, after all.

Ebayan continued, "No games this time. We talk."
 
Ebayan came down to his window and knocked on it and Christoper jumped, startled. His plan to distract the man had backfired.

Ebayan simply said they needed to talk and there was a momentary sigh of relief replaced by more panic, "Please don't report me to the association. I'm just a psychic with minor powers trying to run my turtle rescue, I don't want to hurt anyone, and Jameson doesn't want to hurt anyone either! It was an accident!" He said, panicking, his visible sweating returning as he had to resist from telling his whole life story. He knew by now that he had given away too much information.

"I... Uhh..." He thought about running for a moment and thought better of it, finding his home probably wouldn't be too difficult and if the man hadn't figured out he was directly related to the monster everyone was talking about by now, then seeing his house with Jameson inside would definitely give it away. His brain raced as he tried to think of a clever lie for what he meant about Jameson.
 
Ebayan used a folder knife to jimmy the window open so that he could step inside and unlatch himself from his rappelling gear. Reidinger's stammering was all he needed to hear to confirm that the younger man had been lying about the degree to which he knew about the monster attacks. That being said, his tangent about someone named Jameson wasn't terribly revealing...yet.

"Enough," he told the panicking young man sternly. "I'm not here to report you, arrest you, or hurt you. What I am here to do is figure out what happened during that monster attack." He slid a nearby chair over to the other man, indicating that he take a seat.

"Now, why don't you start from the beginning? The real beginning...."
 
He breathed a sigh of relief when the man said he wasn't there to arrest him or report him. He very much doubted the man could hurt him because he could simply keep his distance, and then with some very unheroic actions could escape.

He asked Chris to start from the beginning, "I... I got my psychic abilities from a young age. It was just telepathy at first, and I found that humans had some very unpleasant thoughts. I immediately became a recluse, but then I started talking to animals, my mother wouldn't let me keep one until I brought home an injured turtle... Jameson. We patched him up and he grew up fine... Until..." He gritted his teeth, "A month ago... He got... Bigger... And he decided to go over to the sushi shop. Crashed through it." He said with a gulp, "I got him back home and erased everyone's memories." He explained.

"He's harmless, really, he just looks like a monster..." He added softly.
 
Sam palmed that part of his helmet where his face would be.

Of all the -- the pet turtle is the cause of all this mess!? he mentally griped. I supposed we should be tankful there isn't another Sea Folk invasion, at least....

After composing himself, the mercenary went on, "So, your turtle -- Jameson, was it? -- has the ability to turn into a giant monster. You realize that such a thing should get registered with the Association? It might be the safest way to raise your friend." The logistics of controlling and taming a wild animal that could turn many times its size made his head hurt: feeding, damage control, stabling and waste disposal.... Those were definitely elements that the Heroes' Association had a better grasp of than he did.

"And you really should consider it." Sam knew he was being something of a hypocrite; he himself wasn't a big fan of the Association, save that connections to them made tracking down his mentor somewhat more manageable. However, the unwieldy organization did have resources that proved useful. "Jameson could become a target for hunters and heroes who perceive him as a threat. And already he's responsible for thousands in property damage. You're lucky he hasn't yet been responsible for fatalities...."
 
He shook his head when Sam recommended he register Jameson with the hero association, "No... I've... I haven't met Amai Mask, the way you would, but I've seen how he acts around anything that doesn't fit his idea of a perfect humanity. I felt the Z city disaster, I felt Boros, I felt caped baldy and the others so intensely. And then there was Amai Mask, who had captured, basically prisoners of war. They surrendered, allowed themselves to be chained together and he slaughtered them." He bared his teeth.

He mentioned how Jameson could become a target anyways, "It was only the one incident! He hasn't..." He trailed off before he could say that Jameson hadn't even left the home since the incident. He was a giant creature and would definitely be noticed outside. It had been over a month, and Jameson, being bigger, now had less room to get around, when normally he had the run of the city.

He put his hand on his mouth, "I haven't let him leave the house in a month." He said, tears in his eyes.
 
Ebayan frowned at the mention of Amai Mask. "You'd be surprised how few of us get to meet people like him," he muttered blandly. Thus far, this mission wasn't turning out as he had hoped. If the Sea Folk had indeed returned, a successful investigation would have surely put Sam Ebayan on Mask's radar. Then they could have met and, perhaps, Ebayan could have picked up a lead on his missing mentor.

Reidinger's words concerning the other events he 'felt' intrigued the mercenary. His psychic abilities must have been quite attuned to have sensed such things with intensity. There weren't any reports of psychics in the vicinity of those events outside of the Tornado herself, suggesting that Reidinger was sensitive indeed.

Then the lab tech started bemoaning the fate of his pet turtle. Ebayan sighed. It seemed the younger man was simply trying to do right by his friend. Then an idea sprung to mind. "Look, kiddo," the mercenary began, crossing his arms across his chest, "you seem like a good kid. I've made myself a base of operations of sorts while I'm here in town. Its big enough and discrete enough to hide a giant turtle. I do you a favor, you do me a solid -- how's that sound?"

A psychic might be able to help him track down Karin. It was worth a shot. And by providing a safe haven for Jameson, the turtle would be in an environment that kept him from causing too much trouble.

Two birds, one stone.
 
He chewed his lip, "I want Amai mask denied information on him. I don't need him seeking my turtle out because the association isn't hunting down and killing him themselves. S rank clearance or something." He said, remembering Amai's public refusals to move up to S rank despite being stronger than a few of the S ranks himself.

He released his lip when Sam offered to hide Jameson for him in a bigger facility, "He'll need a pool, given the supplies he can maintain it himself, but he will need a large thing of water." He explained, "But other than that, he should be fine. How can we transport him? He's over 4 meters tall, and I can't just keep wiping minds of people as we go along." He explained.

He said that he would do it in exchange for a favor and he immediately knew what the man wanted, "I will not... Steal information, nothing like gaining access to bank accounts or anything like that. I've decided to live legitimately...ish..." He said remembering the few times he convinced rich men he was their friends so that they would pay his bill, "And I want to know the favor before we do anything." He said firmly.
 
Ebayan reassured him, "I don't want anything of the sort. I'm looking for an old friend of mine, my mentor, Karin Krauser. She went missing. I joined the Heroes' Association in order to find her, ideally by doing missions like this one to get Amai Mask's attention. Mask was the one who sent Karin on her last mission before she vanished. Maybe with your powers, you can help me find her."

He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "As for transporting Jameson...this company needs a lot of industrial-grade supplies, does it not? You must use semi-trucks to haul freight. I can hijack one of your trucks and bring your turtle to my hideout. I can probably haul enough water in there as well to make a pool. It'll take me a day or two to get one built, but it shouldn't be that difficult."

He extended a gloved hand toward Reidinger. "So. What do you say?"
 
He lit up at the assurance that he was simply looking for his mentor, "Oh, that should be simple enough. I'll need something of hers or a picture, both would be better." He declined to mention that the simplest procedure would be to peer into Mask's mind, he didn't want to, the man's mind was crawling with simply horrid things.

"Oh, right, no need to just steal one of them, it will be simple enough to convince them that you're simply a freight driver for us, leaving to pick up more stuff, and then after, they will simply forget that the truck exists till we come back." He said waving it off, "Getting a pool will probably be the most difficult, we'll need to build it before we grab Jameson." He said, dreading what might happen to Jameson's health if he didn't have a proper place to stay.

"I'll do it." He said, taking the gloved hand and shaking it lightly, still a bit timid of this man dressed in black, immune to his powers.
 
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