Satoru was sitting with Mima and Sarah they were playing a racing game on one of Soshi’s fancy T.Vs the level of electronics that screamed money. If Satoru had to guess it was probably one of the newest models right off of the factory line for the holiday season, to go with the fancy little console they were playing on. Like most consoles it was developed on M-Chip technology so that the data was funneled straight to the user, meaning that even with three players playing they all still had a full screen rather than a split screen experience. Personally he preferred something a bit more to his speed: fighting games mostly. He found it a more honorable way of play to best one in single combat if it was just digitally, to analyze the opponent and pick apart their defense and watch their whole plan fall atop of them. He was pretty good at them back before he joined the correctors, for some reason he found peace in it to memorize the combos and different characters strengths and weaknesses. These days though he really didn't seem to have time for games as much as he did before, between everything. But occasionally he was able to pop in a round here and there, using it therapeutically to vent out any of his qualms on some poor unsuspecting opponent. But this was not a fighting game for some understandably beating up another digital person sometimes hits too close to home, especially after a mission.

But racing was okay. It was more than okay. Anything to get their minds onto something else, beside Gvn conspiracies against them, crazy hackers, or failed missions. And that was just what it did having fun was an easy way to get your mind off of the bad things. The music behind them thumped through the speakers hidden but seemingly everywhere in Soshi’s apartment. XYZ one of the techno-pop groups that were all the rage in the country right now. Somehow combining the technical world with the more human elements. Big with the kids at the moment as well as a surprising number of Salarymen. More recently they made the top of the charts in sales of their new album. The childish upbeat tempo went along in the back of Satoru’s head and sure he could see why. With uplifting lyrics about how “On the other side of invisible there are stars shining in the unchanging, wide universe.” It give the teens an anthem of sorts to not be sucked in the cynical nature of their ancestors no matter how futile things were. Satoru himself found his foot tapping along to the beat and he shook his head suppressing a smile. 

Later after some more drinks as they played on the night seemed almost like it was going back to what it was intended to be a break for them. To get out of the hole they had dug themselves into as they hunkered down in the trenches waiting for the next blow, the next wave of artillery to come. The idle conversation was going on as they continued to play the game or just sat about. What always impressed Satoru about correctors that he had noticed in his time working with them was their profound ability to rebound, to be able to come back from anything. He had seen people that he would have ventured as far to call friends killed trying to save the world that didn't even know what they were doing. And never had they staggered for a moment, after every loss they came back the next day ready to do it all over again. It took Satoru a long time to realize that, to realize that no matter what happened you couldn't let it drag you down. As messed up as it sounded to be effective you needed to find a way to desensitize yourself to be able to keep your feelings of remorse, regret and anger away from your job. You didn't have time to feel sad, you only had time to do your job. For you slip up because you are feeling sad about letting somebody go and then before you know it hundreds of others are dead. 

They were just getting into another race when Mima paused the game, it was only for a moment. But the jarring lack of stimulation brought his sense back and for a moment he could of swore he heard the soft thud of footsteps hidden behind the pop music and talking. But then the game turned back on and the sounds were muffled and Satoru soon forgot about it is they continued their race. Satoru himself managed a respectable second after managing to knock on the AI opponents off of the track and into the digital abyss below. Mima’s joy over her dead last managed to at least receive a small chuckle for the corrector. Who he himself was finishing the bottle of whiskey he had brought over, it have been sat next to him he was finally starting to feel the effects as his own movements seemed sluggish and the world moved at painfully sluggish speed. 

Moments later the doors swung open and suits came in. Which in Satoru’s line of work as it was he used to suits randomly barging into his abodes. They had no sense of privacy and where all business, not the kind of people Satoru appreciated at all. But these suits worried Satoru, for they were not Japanese suits, they were foreign. That usually only meant bad things. And Satoru had seen this scene in action movies several times before, when the mysterious men in black come storming into the room and kidnap the people and take them to some secret facility. He always thought that if he was presented in such a situation that he would be the one to take down three of them before getting tazed or something. Turns out in reality, he was more concerned about why his legs felt so heavy, and why everything was spinning, and why the floor was approaching so quickly....

~~~

“Toto.... I don’t think we are in Kansas anymore.” Satoru mumbled to himself as he awoke slowly in a bed, his head was pounding not the gentle kind either. It was the type of pounding that was well accustomed to black out drunks and those who awake in hotel rooms seemingly of someone's urine and regret. He turned and saw Yasukazu was put next to him in the bed. Sighing he shook his friend gently on the shoulder trying his best to rose him from his slumber. He got out of the bed a few moments later slowly as if he was unsure of his own feet and he looked around at the small posh room. [I]Where in the world are we? Rococo Europe?[/I] Satoru mused to himself as he looked around the room with seemingly no entrances and exits. It was basically a fancy cage, and if one had a cage... it would deem that one needed mice as well. And the fact their phones were gone as well.... that only complicated manners. 

His eyes were drawn to the pictures on the wall, one of them was a painting of Michael the Brave and his mind flashed back to when they were abducted. Little flags, little tiny flags that Gvn officers have pinned to their suits. Must of been so that the governments could tell who’s spoke was whose. The little flag it was a Romanian flag. [I]Romanina? What in the world would they want with us? To teach us the wonders of well thought out social welfare? I even liked Eminescu’s poems and this is what I get for it? You ungrateful little former soviet jerks![/I] Satoru shook his head as he walked over to the small gathering by the table and picked up a cookie looking at it like he was about to interrogate it over his current situation before biting into it. “You know they are probably listening to us right now... Might as well make them feel welcome.” He cleared his throat before announcing. “Salut ce mai faci!” There was silence in return as Satoru peeked his head up waiting for a response that never came, hanging his head dejectedly he muttered. “Course the kidnappers don’t have any manners.” 

But then another question dawned upon him as he began to address the only foreigner in their little gathering. “Sarah-san, I know you are from Canada and the great white land of friendly and polite polar bears. So I know of course you wouldn't do a thing such as this. But is it customary in the west to greet other agents of a foreign nation by knocking them out and abducting. Is this just the polite way to do things, or are we missing something here?”