[h2][b]Prince Infer[/b][/h2]
Hrmph. He's not stuck around, has he? I've got the mask helping me with its HUD, but even then, he's sort of just gone. I expected him to be more badly injured than that, and the surprisingly complexity of the present system of alleys I'm in is not helping either. But, then again, there's a simple solution to this problem: covertly, I hover upwards until I am far above the city, making sure nobody is looking in my direction, then have the mask's visual sensors zoom in somewhat to give me clearer views of the individual people below me. It doesn't take me much longer after this to rediscover Ian's location - he's not particularly close to where I was, but he is headed towards a group of other demonic-looking individuals, presumably his friends and/or fellow gang members, to the number of five. I imagine they won't be much more troublesome than Ian himself, frankly; either way, I float over to a rooftop near the group, and listen to their conversation briefly:

'Damn, your hand got messed up! What happened?'

'Uh- alright, so I was in the bar, right, and I was with this smoking babe-'

'No you fuckin' weren't...'

'I WAS, thank you-'

'Was it Felli? Everyone knows she's a fucking drunk slut half the time.'

'SHADDAP I'm telling a story... okay, so I was with a hot babe, we were having a good time, and then some asshat xeno comes out of nowhere, with this huge iron rod-'

'Like mah penis, heh.'

'-and just tries to smash my head in. And I'm like, "fuck that noise", and just punch it in half, which is how this happened. And THEN, with my other hand, and also feet, I beat the fucking SHIT out of that douchebag, and tell him never to come back to Earth again! Or the Demon Realm, since that's where we're, uh, originally from, so yeah.'

'Sounds embellished. How drunk are you?'

Now's a good time to intervene, I think. As he's been talking, I've been quietly descending until I'm stood atop a post just away from them, arms crossed; now, with my position set, I reveal myself by confidently stating 'Far more drunk than is healthy for a demon, I imagine.' All six of them turn to face me, Ian with a look of mild terror on his face that has so far gone unnoticed by his companions. 'And for the record,' I continue, 'the actual progression of events involved him confronting me out of nowhere, giving me his "world-famous Windup Special Punch", and breaking his fist on my chin. And then I threw him out of the bar.'

'...sounds embellished.'

'How we got here is unimportant. Let's get straight to the point: you have information I want, Ian. Give it to me freely, and I'll let you live; the rest of you, leave if you value your physical well-being.'

'Bah! You can't tell us what to do, poshie!' one of the gang members yells, backed up by an 'Uh- uh- y-yeah!' from Ian. 'You got the drop on me last time, but I've got my bros with me now! There's no way you can beat all of us!'

'If you're so confident, then by all means try to attack me,' I state, stepping down from the post to the ground, arms still crossed over my chest.

'Alright, boys, GET HIM!' their coward of a leader yells, stepping back as his fellows take the charge. If Ian's the leader of the group, then these five demons are almost certainly weaker than him. In any case, however, the power difference is likely to be meaningless; even stood stock still, all of them are moving far too slowly to be even vaguely threatening. With a slight sigh, I shift my arms so that the cross now reaches to my shoulders, then fling my arms out, forming a shockwave-esque kiai that throws out a wave of force around me, billowing my cloak and blasting away the nearby debris. The demons are thrown away from me like so much dust, impacting into nearby walls hard enough to knock them out, with one skidding down the alleyway past Ian. Before he can so much as turn, I am upon him, slamming him into the alley wall with one hand clamped over his mouth, and myself hovering so that I am visor-to-eye with him; his struggles to free himself are in vain, especially with one hand out of commission.

'Now, Ian,' I begin with a voice as chill as the grave, 'here's how this is going to work. First of all, I'm going to prove that I will make good on any future threats I direct toward you.'

I grab his flailing hand, the one that wasn't injured before, then take the middle finger of it in my fingers and snap it back upon itself with a twist. Frankly, this is the most efficient way to get my desired answer out of him. His scream of pain is muffled under my hand, of course; I can't have him revealing our location before I've gotten what I want.

'Secondly, I'm going to ask you politely, just once, about a very particular subject. Possibly more than one question on the topic. If you fail to respond satisfactorily, within a time period as deemed sufficient by myself, or if you attempt to alert any passersby of what transpires here, I will continue to injure you until such time as you are dead, unconscious, or otherwise amenable to my requests. Do you understand?'

He nods vigorously, albeit stifled under my hand; with the ground rules laid out, I shift my grip from his face to his shirt, and quietly ask 'So, I've been told you had something to do with a recent mission from this planet, involving determining who the buyers of those planets sold by the World Trade Organisation are. Would you care to explain what said mission was about?'

'Uh- w-well- u-u-uhhh...' he stammers nervously. Too slow.

'Five, four-'

'NonoNO, please, I'm trying to-'

'Three, two-'

'ALRIGHTALRIGHTstopstopstop, it was uh, it was, it was for this, uh, do you know of, um... uh... the-the Earth Defense Force...'

'...I do now. Go on.'

'W-well, they, uh, had tryouts... f-for um, th-this mission, right? And, u-u-uh, they were going to, ah, t-to investigate the... uh... th-the buyers.'

I wait a moment, considering what he's said, then ask 'And you're still here because...?'

'I, uh... I mean, that is, uh...'

'Five.'

'Ohgodn- uh, I w-wasn't, um... considered... for the position... due to-'

'You're too weak.'

This is responded to with a low groan. 'I-I pushed for it...'

'But no. And you call yourself a defender of Earth?'

'...n-not being part of the EDF might've also h-had something to do with it.'

'You're a disgrace to your kind if you thought you'd manage something so obviously foolish. Final question: did they mention what planet they were headed to?'

'P-planet...? Oh- OH, y-yeah they did, uh... I think it was... Buh, bu-bu-bu... fuck, what was it, what WAS IT-'

'Shush.'

'S-sorry. Um... Buuuuuuuuuhhhh... Ba, Be, Ber- BERYL, it was Beryl, that was it!'

Ah, of course. Planet Beryl, home to the crustacean-like Berylians, a race enslaved by Frieza during the WTO's run. So, all I need to do is head there.

'Thank you for your help, Ian. And now the final stipulation to our agreement: tell nobody that this happened. Tell your cronies to tell nobody, as well. If it slips out that I was here, I'll know who did it. And I will come back for you. Understand?'

'Y... yes...'

'Good,' I finish, letting him drop to the ground, and walking out of the alley as he begins to sob lightly. There are some people in the universe who cannot walk anything like as well as they talk, and others who are utterly contemptible in their attitude to said walking and talking; Ian just so happens to be an unfortunate combination of the two traits, leading to little more than a playground bully of a demon. The lowest of the low, and ever more spiteful for it. What's the word used by humans... "pathetic", I think.

But that's irrelevant now. I have my information, and I know where I must head in order to continue my investigation. Let's hope Beryl is as simple to handle as this planet turned out to be.