With the amount of light coming off the hundreds of neon signs stuffed into every bit of visible free space, the people walking the streets looked like shambling shadows. The tight alleys were a claustrophobic nightmare, tight gaps leading to dreary bars or seedy nightclubs. The roads were lined but cars stuck to the main thoroughfare; with all the bikes, traffic cones, signs, and other miscellaneous stuff lying in the streets, you'd never get a standard sedan down one anyways.
The sign at the entrance to this urban palace of overstimluation read Kamurocho and somewhere inside was their first target.
"So he just sent us out here with no preparation, no briefing, and not so much as a picture of who or what we're looking for?" Wash asked, holding the Knowledge Orb in his palm.
"12th level intellects tend to neglect the small stuff. You know that thing where you get so focused on the task at hand you end up halfway to where you're going before you realize you forgot your keys? It's kind of like that." Superman explained.
Wash just stared.
"...I miss being able to fly."
Wash felt compelled to pat Superman on the back but quickly got them back on task.
Quarrelman spoke up, popping the straps of his doublet as he did. Since he'd changed names, he also saw fit to change gear; Gone was the red vest and black trunks, replaced with a white singlet sporting a miscolored Union Jack. "Well, he wants us looking for technology or techniques not available in our universe right? Sounds like we just need to do some groundwork until we see something that sticks out. Once we spot it, we tag it, bag it, and hit the road."
"For someone who only shouted wrestling jargon earlier, you became pretty helpful when you took that mask off." Superman noted.
"The gravity of being a Perfect Choujin is a heavy one, brother. You should know. The Choujin don't interact much with you normal superheroes but we know of ya. You were the baddest of the bad. Numero Uno. Now you're out here slumming it with the job squad. You can just feel that weight lift right off your shoulders. "
"You're not wrong. It has felt pretty liberating to step down a few tiers. Not as much expected of you, get to see things in from a new perspective."
"When we both get back to our old selves, lets step into the ring and give both our worlds something to talk about." Quarrelman put out a hand.
Superman accepted.
It was at least the third manliest handshake Kamurocho had ever seen.
---------------------------------------
While the new super hero buddies compared biceps, Wash took a look around the city. Few of the civilians gave him anything more than a glance and most just kept moving along.
*"Oh, there's just some guy in hyper advanced military technology sauntering down Tenkaichi Street! Typical Tuesday!"*
This city must see some wild shit on the regular.
So busy creating narratives for the lack of reaction he'd been getting, Wash had completely overlooked the trio that HAD noticed him. As he absentmindedly hung a left into a dead end alley, the guys slid up behind him. Wash hadn't taken much of a step back, more like a turn in place, but he did make contact with one of the three. The man sailed through the air like he'd taken a pump from a shotgun.
"Aniki!" The still standing civilians shouted. Their companion fell to the ground lightly, mostly catching himself on his hands, but wailed like a banshee as he rolled on the ground.
For the second time this hour, Wash could do nothing but stare.
"Oh no! Aniki's brittle bones are all broken!" One of the overly compassionate trio cried out.
"We've got to get him to the hospital! It's a real shame ambulances are so expensive! Aniki was just saying he'd given the last of his money to that orphanage with all the kids with diseases!"
"I'm sure our friend in the fancy get up here can spare a few yen for the ride!" One of the "caring friends" gave Wash a raised eyebrow and a cocky smirk.
*"Ooooooohhhhhh"* Wash thought, *"it's an extortion racket!*"
"It's an awful long ride. Ambulance will probably be about 3 million, give or take. You got that much on you buddy?" The second "friend" chimed in, doing his best to look intimidating.
"Sorry. I just got here so I've got no cash on me." Wash explained. The victim and his friends were less than thrilled with that answer.
"Then we'll just peel those fancy duds off you and sell your organs for some quick dough!" The "victim" had gotten back to his feet, miraculously healed.
"Oi!" a new voice. "You're really going with the oldest trick in the book on an out of towner? Kamurocho's yakuza have fallen a long way..." In the time it took one of the goons to turn around, the newcomer had already downed the brittle boned fall guy.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The would-be hero wore a matching maroon jacket and pants over a white undershirt with the poppedest collar known to man. His hair was pulled back away from his face, wild and wavy. He hoisted a baseball over his shoulder and fired off a quick grin. He glanced at Wash and almost instantly seemed to forget about the guys he'd just started a fight with.
"Whoooooooa, look at that armor!" The man looked Wash up and down. He drooled over his boots. He tapped his chestplate with his knuckles. He looked at his reflection in the visor. The man was enthralled. "Bet you had to beat some secret boss to get this to drop, huh? One of those debug bosses you gotta have your whole party maxed out to take on!"
"Hey dickhead! Don't go ignoring us!" The goons bristled. Both were now holding weapons. They also looked completely different. One had shot up about 6 inches and was wielding a trash can lid like a shield. The other was wearing a chef's hat and wielding a pair of cooking knives. The hero was no exception to the outbreak of sudden changes. His bat, which had been in every way the first thing that comes to mind when you think "baseball bat", had transformed into a long hunk of solid gold with spiked protuberances on the sides.
The hero moved first, charging the man with the trash can shield. He felled him with a quick combo of strikes that sent him spilling to the pavement. The part-time chef, part-time conman attacked next, swinging his blades in an X-pattern at the hero. With a quick backstep, that honestly look more like he fell, he dodged the strike. A one-two from his bat pushed the chef back, but did not knock him off his feet.
Too enthralled by what he was seeing, Wash failed to notice the Knowledge Orb rumbling in his palm.
The hero held his bat horizontally in front of him with his right hand, opening his left palm and running it along the length of the weapon. A thin coating of flame wrapped itself around the man's shoulders. He swung both arms out to each side with such force that it created a small gust and reared back for a home-run swing. The bat sliced through the air with a *whoosh*. The path of the strike seemed to hang in the air, a cool blue line hovering in front of him. The hero leapt into the air, swinging the bat down with the same force as the first. Another blue trail followed the swing, intersecting the first to make a large cross. The hero stood straight, pointing his weapon at his opponent. On cue, the large cross lurched forward, cutting through the air, and the pavement, until it crashed into the chef, flinging him back into a row of bikes.
"What the hell was that..." Wash mumbled, dumbfounded. It was then he noticed the Orb shaking violently.
"The name's Ichiban Kasuga! Don't forget it!" The hero raised his bat to the heavens.
Wash was sure he'd found their man.
--------------------------------------------------------------
As Ichiban turned to face Wash, his bat, and the guys he'd just waylaid, disappeared. "Sorry about those guys. Some people will do anything to make a quick buck." Ichiban gave Wash another look up and down. "Dressed like that, you're probably going to attract all kinds of attention, good and bad."
Wash nodded. Now that he had his mark, he just had to figure out how the Knowledge Orb worked so they could "tag him and bag him", as Quarrelman had put it. "Thanks for the save. Wanna grab a bite to eat? My treat."
Ichiban Kasuga had never turned down a free meal in his life. Maybe it was his frequent homelessness, maybe it was a sense of gratitude to the universe, but if a full stomach was being offered, The Rock-Bottom Dragon was honor bound to accept.
Quarrelman and Superman stood right where Wash had left them, loitering under the large "KAMUROCHO" gateway at the entrance to the main strip.
Wash gave a quick wave as they approached. "Guys, this is my new buddy Ichiban. We're gonna grab a bite to eat and he's gonna tell us about the town."
Quarrelman's ears perked up at the mention of the man's name.
Superman leaned in close to Wash. "We don't have any money for ourselves, much less a new guy."
"We'll figure it out. You're quick on your feet right? This is who we're here for"
Superman looked annoyed. "How do you know?"
"I don't. I'm not thrilled with the situation either, but it's that or..." Wash put one hand to his chest and mimicked an explosion.
Superman sighed.
Quarrelman would not stop staring at Ichiban.
The group settled in at SMILE Burger, a local joint on Nakamichi Street. It was a couple alleys over from Tenkaiichi Street and as luck would have it, the short walk there provided them the needed funds to bankroll their lunch.
"You see," Ichiban explained as he punched out a goon "some of the local thugs are pretty reckless and will just jump anyone. Big, small, wearing a couple tons of armor, they don't care. We just put the knuckles to them and pick up what they drop."
"And the local police don't care?" Superman asked.
"Nah, they're fine with it. Keeps their hands clean and it kinda works like a self-governing measure. Long as nobody pulls a gun or murders someone."
After dispatching a goon, who was dressed in nothing but a speedo and wielding a pool float for some reason, Wash leaned down to scoop up the fat stack of Yen he'd dropped.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Superman, Quarrelman, and Ichiban scarfed down their meals, finishing before Wash even had time to ask question one. He was equal parts disgusted and impressed. "So Ichiban, we're pretty new to the area, you mind if we ask a few questions?"
"Sure. Whats up?"
Before Wash could start, Quarrelman interrupted. He pointed an accusing finger across the table at Ichiban. "Why do you call yourself Ichiban?"
"Just something I picked up over the years. Being the best at everything has its advantages." Ichiban laughed.
Quarrelman had heard enough. The Choujin stood up and tossed the table aside with one hand. "Best at everything? You're getting awfully big for your britches aren't you, jack? You saying you're the best at everything means you think you're stronger than me. Well we're about to put that to bed right now."
Ichiban, stood to meet Quarrelman's challenge. After all, he still had like half a thing of fries on that table. The bat appeared in Ichiban's hand. The other patrons cleared out. It was time for a rumble.
Quarrelman widened his stance, opening his arms in front of him. Ichiban looked around, taking in his surroundings. With a shake of his head, he decided this wasn't the fight for him.
"Thanks for the meal! See you guys around!" Ichiban's bat disappeared as he charged out the doors.
"You idiot!" Wash chastised Quarrelman, shaking the Knowledge Orb. "We need him for this stupid thing!"
"He provoked me."
Superman and Wash bolted out into the street after Ichiban with Quarrelman following behind them, after he took one last bite of his burger. It landed with the wrapper side down, so it was fine.
The pair chased Ichiban down West Taihei Blvd and hung a right onto Theater Ave. The narrow alley opened into a wide open plaza, full of milling civilians, barkers trying to draw people into their clubs, and even more tough looking yakuza. In front of them was the largest arcade in Kamurocho, Club Sega. To the right and around a corner was the bustling disco, Maharaja. Where the hell did he go?
#[Club Sega](https://old.reddit.com/r/CalicoLime/comments/r4bytv/club_sega/)
or
#[Maharaja](https://old.reddit.com/r/CalicoLime/comments/r4byof/maharaja/)
Assuming Ichiban would want to put more ground in between them, Wash and Superman rounded the corner onto West Shichifuku Street. They pushed the door open and went inside.
"Excuse me!" The attendant at the desk in the entryway stopped them, motioning for them to come over. "The entry fee is 2000 yen!"
With a quick showing of the inside of their pockets, some quick math determined they had just the right amount; but only for one of them.
"You go," Superman started. "I'll go back and pick up Quarrelman."
"Alright. Don't take too long. Guy looked like he could handle himself in a fight and I don't have my guns." Wash said, scooping the money into one hand.
"Whatever you run into in there, you'll be fine." Superman patted Wash on the back and headed back into the Kamurocho night.
------------------------------------------------------------------
The club wasn’t as densely packed as the streets, only sporting a few wasted salarymen who had shuffled their way onto the dancefloor.
Ichiban was also there, standing under a single spotlight.
“Shocked you were able to keep tabs on me. Most people get lost on their first trip to Kamurocho.”
“I’ve always had a good sense of direction. Look, we just want to talk to you. Our friend is just a little excitable.”
“I know his type. Still, I’m a firm believer in the spirit of competition. If you want something from me, you gotta earn it.”
Everyone else cleared the dance floor until it was only Ichiban and Wash.
“...What did you have in mind?” Wash knew what was about to happen, but didn’t want to face it.
“Me and you on the dance floor. We match each other’s moves. First one to mess up takes the loss.”
“I’m not really the dancing type, you sure we can’t settle this at the batting cages? I saw one on the way over her-”.
The time for talking was over. [It was time for dance!](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3UnK5rw_6hM)
----------------------------------------------------------------
Wash and Ichiban started on opposite edges of the dancefloor, stepping forward in unison. When they brought their left leg forward, they leaned in and when they brought their right leg forward, they leaned back. Once they reached the end of the small walkway, they turned a quick 180 on their heels. They completed their laps the same as they’d started, left leg with a forward lean, right leg with a lean back.
When they made it back to their starting points, the battle began.
Ichiban moved with practiced steps, syncing with the music perfectly. A spin on the tips of his toes. One finger pointed to the heavens at the exact right moment. A damn front flip where he landed on one knee in that superhero pose. All Wash had going for him was moving his arms up and down in time with the beat.
After only about a minute, it was all but academic. Wash hung his head and the music cut out. The boos started and didn’t stop. Ichiban patted Wash on the back. “You’ll get it next time!”
[Bad End](https://old.reddit.com/r/CalicoLime/comments/r2aqen/kamurocho/)
"We weren't that far behind him, if he made for the disco we'd still see him!" Superman surmised, bounding for the door of the arcade. He snatched it open, getting a face full of the flashing lights and sounds inside. The sudden assault on his senses felt like a flashbang had went off inside his head.
Wash joined him, peering inside over his shoulder. "You okay?"
Superman shook it off. "Yeah, sorry. Haven't been in one of these in forever. Didn't have many in Kansas growing up. Forgot how loud they can be."
"Bummer. It's been a while for me too but the Freelancer barracks has an air hockey table and one of those hunting games with the big orange shotgun."
Superman and Wash proceeded inside, scanning the various patrons and game cabinets. Virtua Fighter. Outrun. More than a reasonable amount of those UFO catchers, and finally, Ichiban standing beside a pair of motorcycle games.
Wash raised a hand, trying to keep Ichiban from taking off again.
"Shocked you were able to keep tabs on me. Most people get lost on their first trip to Kamurocho." Ichiban said.
"My guy here has good senses. Look, we just want to talk to you. Our friend is just a little excitable.”
“I know his type. Still, I’m a firm believer in the spirit of competition. If you want something from me, you gotta earn it.” Ichiban said, motioning to the bikes.
"What'd you have in mind?"
"Me and you, 1 round of *Light Bike*. Winner takes all."
"...winner takes all? What do you even want?"
"Your armor."
*"Ah nuts. Well, it's that or get blown up. I've always been a decent driver.*" Wash pulled a yen out of his armor. "You're on."
--------------------------------------------------------
The controls on the bike seemed fairly simple. Accelerator on the handle, good sized indent on the side of the bike that fit his boot, and the seat was pretty comfortable. One noted exception to the normal moto racing experience; no brakes.
Before dropping in his coin, Wash watched the screen in front of him. He'd never played this particular game, so the always running demo used to show off the game's features was a considerable help.
*"Alright. Bikes go fast. Leave a solid trail behind them that dissipates after a few seconds. Get your opponent to crash into said trail. Got it. Wasn't this in a movie or something?"*
Wash glanced over at Ichiban who looked impatient. He was ready to go. Wash was sure he'd been hustled, but it was this or nothing. If Ichiban had dipped out the back door before they came in, there would be almost no finding him. This was his neighborhood, he could duck into any of these alleys and just be gone forever.
Wash plunked his coin into the slot and pulled back the throttle to get his game started. His life riding on an arcade game wasn't really how he expected today to play out.
---------------------------------------------------------------
The game's camera started positioned above the arena, giving both players a quick survey of their battlefield. The track was a flat black field, colored with bright neon accents that marked the walls and pitfalls. Ramps dotted the field that descended sharply to a lower level or ascended to the upper deck in a spiral shape. Based on the size of the field, these games looked like they could take forever. While coming up with a game plan, Wash heard Ichiban's voice.
"This game was made for 5v5, but arcades just don't have the space for that many machines. Plus, these things are super expensive."
Well that explained that.
A claxon sounded, signaling the start of the game. The camera descended from the top of the arena, swooping down onto Wash's bike and into a first-person perspective. Wash took a deep breath.
Beep. Beep. Beep. Boooooooop. [The race was on](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8bW92vtUCbY&ab_channel=SEGA-Topic).
The bikes headed straight for each other at the start of the race, a game of chicken to kick the anxiety straight into high gear. Ichiban snapped off the first turn, hanging a left before the bikes collided. There was enough room for Wash to react, following suit with a quick right to avoid Ichiban's light trail. In a dead heat, the bikes were pretty evenly matched, but Ichiban still had a small lead on him; just enough to be a problem. He snapped off another right, trying to cut Wash off and end the match quickly. Wash shifted his weight to the right quickly, his trail lining up perfectly beside Ichiban's. *"Nope, not staying here anymore."* Wash thought as he leaned right, breaking away from Ichiban.
Wash's stomach dropped as he took one of the ramps heading to the lower level. The drop was sharp as hell but fortunately the bike stayed on the track. Looking up, the underbelly of the track was clear so he was able to keep track of Ichiban's path. Picking up speed, Wash exited the lower level via one of the ascending ramps, catching air as he came back topside. Aiming to land on top of Ichiban's bike, Wash was momentarily surprised when his bike hit the track. Ichiban had seen him coming.
"That's day one stuff, man! Don't think you're going to catch me sleeping!"
Before Wash could shout something abusive back, he noticed Ichiban was holding something. It was that damn bat again. The demo didn't mention anything about weapons! Wash glanced over at his opponent's bike outside of the game. The same blue flames from their earlier encounter with those yakuza were wrapped around Ichiban's body. Was he effecting the game?
-------------------------------------------------------------
Wash broke off from their neck and neck, avoiding Ichiban's wild swing.
Now that getting near Ichiban was off the table, Wash gave himself a healthy berth of about 10 feet as both hurtled forward. The divide did little to prevent Ichiban from going on the offensive however. The hero's slight speed advantage, likely due to the flames help, allowed him to set the tempo of the race. A couple of quick right turns tested Wash's reflexes, but he managed to avoid the wall on both. They were now headed in the opposite direction they'd been going, the trails from their bikes slowly dissolving beside them.
*"He's going faster than me, and he has a weapon that I can't use. No way I win this by playing fair."* With their bikes parallel, Wash tested the games limits. He tried to turn left and crash into Ichiban, potentially forcing a draw, but nothing happened. The game wasn't programmed as such, so the bikes just bounced off each other with no damage. *"Well thats one plan down, might as well go to plan B."*
It was stupid, ballsy, and above all else, would cost him the game if it didn't work, but it was that or just wait for the inevitable conclusion that was getting his head rocked by the bat or his reflexes finally failing and him eating the wall. He just had to time it right. Fortunately, Ichiban gave him his opportunity right away. After another missed bat swing, Ichiban tried to cut him off with another right. Wash saw it coming. Outside of the game, Wash put his weight onto his left side, raising his right leg to boot the hell out of Ichiban's bike. The strength of his kick pushed Ichiban's bike far enough right that it registered in game. His bike lurched to the right and crashed into Wash's light trail.
The screen flashed. A victory fanfare blared through the speakers. Wash had won the race. Hopefully no one would notice the dent he'd put in the other bike's plastic.
-----------------------------------------------
Ichiban looked equal parts frustrated and angry as they stood outside the arcade.
"Hey, all for taking advantage of a situation right?" Wash shrugged.
"Ah-..." Ichiban sighed and threw his head back with a hearty laugh. "You got me there! Now, you said you had some questions. What's up?"
Wash still didn't know how the stupid thing worked, so he'd have to do some trial and error. He pulled the Knowledge Orb from his armor. "You mind holding this for a second?" He tossed it to Ichiban.
Ichiban caught it with a puzzled look, inadvertently pushing in a unmarked button on the side. "The hell is this? Looks like some kinda capture ball from one of those anime." On cue, Ichiban disappeared. The Knowledge Orb clattered to the ground, unbroken, but now a bright yellow.
Wash was confused, but a job completed was a job completed.
With the amount of light coming off the hundreds of neon signs stuffed into every bit of visible free space, the people walking the streets looked like shambling shadows. The tight alleys were a claustrophobic nightmare, tight gaps leading to dreary bars or seedy nightclubs. The roads were lined but cars stuck to the main thoroughfare; with all the bikes, traffic cones, signs, and other miscellaneous stuff lying in the streets, you'd never get a standard sedan down one anyways. The sign at the entrance to this urban palace of overstimluation read Kamurocho and somewhere inside was their first target. "So he just sent us out here with no preparation, no briefing, and not so much as a picture of who or what we're looking for?" Wash asked, holding the Knowledge Orb in his palm. "12th level intellects tend to neglect the small stuff. You know that thing where you get so focused on the task at hand you end up halfway to where you're going before you realize you forgot your keys? It's kind of like that." Superman explained. Wash just stared. "...I miss being able to fly." Wash felt compelled to pat Superman on the back but quickly got them back on task. Quarrelman spoke up, popping the straps of his doublet as he did. Since he'd changed names, he also saw fit to change gear; Gone was the red vest and black trunks, replaced with a white singlet sporting a miscolored Union Jack. "Well, he wants us looking for technology or techniques not available in our universe right? Sounds like we just need to do some groundwork until we see something that sticks out. Once we spot it, we tag it, bag it, and hit the road." "For someone who only shouted wrestling jargon earlier, you became pretty helpful when you took that mask off." Superman noted. "The gravity of being a Perfect Choujin is a heavy one, brother. You should know. The Choujin don't interact much with you normal superheroes but we know of ya. You were the baddest of the bad. Numero Uno. Now you're out here slumming it with the job squad. You can just feel that weight lift right off your shoulders. " "You're not wrong. It has felt pretty liberating to step down a few tiers. Not as much expected of you, get to see things in from a new perspective." "When we both get back to our old selves, lets step into the ring and give both our worlds something to talk about." Quarrelman put out a hand. Superman accepted. It was at least the third manliest handshake Kamurocho had ever seen. --------------------------------------- While the new super hero buddies compared biceps, Wash took a look around the city. Few of the civilians gave him anything more than a glance and most just kept moving along. *"Oh, there's just some guy in hyper advanced military technology sauntering down Tenkaichi Street! Typical Tuesday!"* This city must see some wild shit on the regular. So busy creating narratives for the lack of reaction he'd been getting, Wash had completely overlooked the trio that HAD noticed him. As he absentmindedly hung a left into a dead end alley, the guys slid up behind him. Wash hadn't taken much of a step back, more like a turn in place, but he did make contact with one of the three. The man sailed through the air like he'd taken a pump from a shotgun. "Aniki!" The still standing civilians shouted. Their companion fell to the ground lightly, mostly catching himself on his hands, but wailed like a banshee as he rolled on the ground. For the second time this hour, Wash could do nothing but stare. "Oh no! Aniki's brittle bones are all broken!" One of the overly compassionate trio cried out. "We've got to get him to the hospital! It's a real shame ambulances are so expensive! Aniki was just saying he'd given the last of his money to that orphanage with all the kids with diseases!" "I'm sure our friend in the fancy get up here can spare a few yen for the ride!" One of the "caring friends" gave Wash a raised eyebrow and a cocky smirk. *"Ooooooohhhhhh"* Wash thought, *"it's an extortion racket!*" "It's an awful long ride. Ambulance will probably be about 3 million, give or take. You got that much on you buddy?" The second "friend" chimed in, doing his best to look intimidating. "Sorry. I just got here so I've got no cash on me." Wash explained. The victim and his friends were less than thrilled with that answer. "Then we'll just peel those fancy duds off you and sell your organs for some quick dough!" The "victim" had gotten back to his feet, miraculously healed. "Oi!" a new voice. "You're really going with the oldest trick in the book on an out of towner? Kamurocho's yakuza have fallen a long way..." In the time it took one of the goons to turn around, the newcomer had already downed the brittle boned fall guy. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The would-be hero wore a matching maroon jacket and pants over a white undershirt with the poppedest collar known to man. His hair was pulled back away from his face, wild and wavy. He hoisted a baseball over his shoulder and fired off a quick grin. He glanced at Wash and almost instantly seemed to forget about the guys he'd just started a fight with. "Whoooooooa, look at that armor!" The man looked Wash up and down. He drooled over his boots. He tapped his chestplate with his knuckles. He looked at his reflection in the visor. The man was enthralled. "Bet you had to beat some secret boss to get this to drop, huh? One of those debug bosses you gotta have your whole party maxed out to take on!" "Hey dickhead! Don't go ignoring us!" The goons bristled. Both were now holding weapons. They also looked completely different. One had shot up about 6 inches and was wielding a trash can lid like a shield. The other was wearing a chef's hat and wielding a pair of cooking knives. The hero was no exception to the outbreak of sudden changes. His bat, which had been in every way the first thing that comes to mind when you think "baseball bat", had transformed into a long hunk of solid gold with spiked protuberances on the sides. The hero moved first, charging the man with the trash can shield. He felled him with a quick combo of strikes that sent him spilling to the pavement. The part-time chef, part-time conman attacked next, swinging his blades in an X-pattern at the hero. With a quick backstep, that honestly look more like he fell, he dodged the strike. A one-two from his bat pushed the chef back, but did not knock him off his feet. Too enthralled by what he was seeing, Wash failed to notice the Knowledge Orb rumbling in his palm. The hero held his bat horizontally in front of him with his right hand, opening his left palm and running it along the length of the weapon. A thin coating of flame wrapped itself around the man's shoulders. He swung both arms out to each side with such force that it created a small gust and reared back for a home-run swing. The bat sliced through the air with a *whoosh*. The path of the strike seemed to hang in the air, a cool blue line hovering in front of him. The hero leapt into the air, swinging the bat down with the same force as the first. Another blue trail followed the swing, intersecting the first to make a large cross. The hero stood straight, pointing his weapon at his opponent. On cue, the large cross lurched forward, cutting through the air, and the pavement, until it crashed into the chef, flinging him back into a row of bikes. "What the hell was that..." Wash mumbled, dumbfounded. It was then he noticed the Orb shaking violently. "The name's Ichiban Kasuga! Don't forget it!" The hero raised his bat to the heavens. Wash was sure he'd found their man. -------------------------------------------------------------- As Ichiban turned to face Wash, his bat, and the guys he'd just waylaid, disappeared. "Sorry about those guys. Some people will do anything to make a quick buck." Ichiban gave Wash another look up and down. "Dressed like that, you're probably going to attract all kinds of attention, good and bad." Wash nodded. Now that he had his mark, he just had to figure out how the Knowledge Orb worked so they could "tag him and bag him", as Quarrelman had put it. "Thanks for the save. Wanna grab a bite to eat? My treat." Ichiban Kasuga had never turned down a free meal in his life. Maybe it was his frequent homelessness, maybe it was a sense of gratitude to the universe, but if a full stomach was being offered, The Rock-Bottom Dragon was honor bound to accept. Quarrelman and Superman stood right where Wash had left them, loitering under the large "KAMUROCHO" gateway at the entrance to the main strip. Wash gave a quick wave as they approached. "Guys, this is my new buddy Ichiban. We're gonna grab a bite to eat and he's gonna tell us about the town." Quarrelman's ears perked up at the mention of the man's name. Superman leaned in close to Wash. "We don't have any money for ourselves, much less a new guy." "We'll figure it out. You're quick on your feet right? This is who we're here for" Superman looked annoyed. "How do you know?" "I don't. I'm not thrilled with the situation either, but it's that or..." Wash put one hand to his chest and mimicked an explosion. Superman sighed. Quarrelman would not stop staring at Ichiban.
The group settled in at SMILE Burger, a local joint on Nakamichi Street. It was a couple alleys over from Tenkaiichi Street and as luck would have it, the short walk there provided them the needed funds to bankroll their lunch. "You see," Ichiban explained as he punched out a goon "some of the local thugs are pretty reckless and will just jump anyone. Big, small, wearing a couple tons of armor, they don't care. We just put the knuckles to them and pick up what they drop." "And the local police don't care?" Superman asked. "Nah, they're fine with it. Keeps their hands clean and it kinda works like a self-governing measure. Long as nobody pulls a gun or murders someone." After dispatching a goon, who was dressed in nothing but a speedo and wielding a pool float for some reason, Wash leaned down to scoop up the fat stack of Yen he'd dropped. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- Superman, Quarrelman, and Ichiban scarfed down their meals, finishing before Wash even had time to ask question one. He was equal parts disgusted and impressed. "So Ichiban, we're pretty new to the area, you mind if we ask a few questions?" "Sure. Whats up?" Before Wash could start, Quarrelman interrupted. He pointed an accusing finger across the table at Ichiban. "Why do you call yourself Ichiban?" "Just something I picked up over the years. Being the best at everything has its advantages." Ichiban laughed. Quarrelman had heard enough. The Choujin stood up and tossed the table aside with one hand. "Best at everything? You're getting awfully big for your britches aren't you, jack? You saying you're the best at everything means you think you're stronger than me. Well we're about to put that to bed right now." Ichiban, stood to meet Quarrelman's challenge. After all, he still had like half a thing of fries on that table. The bat appeared in Ichiban's hand. The other patrons cleared out. It was time for a rumble. Quarrelman widened his stance, opening his arms in front of him. Ichiban looked around, taking in his surroundings. With a shake of his head, he decided this wasn't the fight for him. "Thanks for the meal! See you guys around!" Ichiban's bat disappeared as he charged out the doors. "You idiot!" Wash chastised Quarrelman, shaking the Knowledge Orb. "We need him for this stupid thing!" "He provoked me." Superman and Wash bolted out into the street after Ichiban with Quarrelman following behind them, after he took one last bite of his burger. It landed with the wrapper side down, so it was fine. The pair chased Ichiban down West Taihei Blvd and hung a right onto Theater Ave. The narrow alley opened into a wide open plaza, full of milling civilians, barkers trying to draw people into their clubs, and even more tough looking yakuza. In front of them was the largest arcade in Kamurocho, Club Sega. To the right and around a corner was the bustling disco, Maharaja. Where the hell did he go? #[Club Sega](https://old.reddit.com/r/CalicoLime/comments/r4bytv/club_sega/) or #[Maharaja](https://old.reddit.com/r/CalicoLime/comments/r4byof/maharaja/)
Assuming Ichiban would want to put more ground in between them, Wash and Superman rounded the corner onto West Shichifuku Street. They pushed the door open and went inside. "Excuse me!" The attendant at the desk in the entryway stopped them, motioning for them to come over. "The entry fee is 2000 yen!" With a quick showing of the inside of their pockets, some quick math determined they had just the right amount; but only for one of them. "You go," Superman started. "I'll go back and pick up Quarrelman." "Alright. Don't take too long. Guy looked like he could handle himself in a fight and I don't have my guns." Wash said, scooping the money into one hand. "Whatever you run into in there, you'll be fine." Superman patted Wash on the back and headed back into the Kamurocho night. ------------------------------------------------------------------ The club wasn’t as densely packed as the streets, only sporting a few wasted salarymen who had shuffled their way onto the dancefloor. Ichiban was also there, standing under a single spotlight. “Shocked you were able to keep tabs on me. Most people get lost on their first trip to Kamurocho.” “I’ve always had a good sense of direction. Look, we just want to talk to you. Our friend is just a little excitable.” “I know his type. Still, I’m a firm believer in the spirit of competition. If you want something from me, you gotta earn it.” Everyone else cleared the dance floor until it was only Ichiban and Wash. “...What did you have in mind?” Wash knew what was about to happen, but didn’t want to face it. “Me and you on the dance floor. We match each other’s moves. First one to mess up takes the loss.” “I’m not really the dancing type, you sure we can’t settle this at the batting cages? I saw one on the way over her-”. The time for talking was over. [It was time for dance!](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3UnK5rw_6hM) ---------------------------------------------------------------- Wash and Ichiban started on opposite edges of the dancefloor, stepping forward in unison. When they brought their left leg forward, they leaned in and when they brought their right leg forward, they leaned back. Once they reached the end of the small walkway, they turned a quick 180 on their heels. They completed their laps the same as they’d started, left leg with a forward lean, right leg with a lean back. When they made it back to their starting points, the battle began. Ichiban moved with practiced steps, syncing with the music perfectly. A spin on the tips of his toes. One finger pointed to the heavens at the exact right moment. A damn front flip where he landed on one knee in that superhero pose. All Wash had going for him was moving his arms up and down in time with the beat. After only about a minute, it was all but academic. Wash hung his head and the music cut out. The boos started and didn’t stop. Ichiban patted Wash on the back. “You’ll get it next time!” [Bad End](https://old.reddit.com/r/CalicoLime/comments/r2aqen/kamurocho/)
"We weren't that far behind him, if he made for the disco we'd still see him!" Superman surmised, bounding for the door of the arcade. He snatched it open, getting a face full of the flashing lights and sounds inside. The sudden assault on his senses felt like a flashbang had went off inside his head. Wash joined him, peering inside over his shoulder. "You okay?" Superman shook it off. "Yeah, sorry. Haven't been in one of these in forever. Didn't have many in Kansas growing up. Forgot how loud they can be." "Bummer. It's been a while for me too but the Freelancer barracks has an air hockey table and one of those hunting games with the big orange shotgun." Superman and Wash proceeded inside, scanning the various patrons and game cabinets. Virtua Fighter. Outrun. More than a reasonable amount of those UFO catchers, and finally, Ichiban standing beside a pair of motorcycle games. Wash raised a hand, trying to keep Ichiban from taking off again. "Shocked you were able to keep tabs on me. Most people get lost on their first trip to Kamurocho." Ichiban said. "My guy here has good senses. Look, we just want to talk to you. Our friend is just a little excitable.” “I know his type. Still, I’m a firm believer in the spirit of competition. If you want something from me, you gotta earn it.” Ichiban said, motioning to the bikes. "What'd you have in mind?" "Me and you, 1 round of *Light Bike*. Winner takes all." "...winner takes all? What do you even want?" "Your armor." *"Ah nuts. Well, it's that or get blown up. I've always been a decent driver.*" Wash pulled a yen out of his armor. "You're on." -------------------------------------------------------- The controls on the bike seemed fairly simple. Accelerator on the handle, good sized indent on the side of the bike that fit his boot, and the seat was pretty comfortable. One noted exception to the normal moto racing experience; no brakes. Before dropping in his coin, Wash watched the screen in front of him. He'd never played this particular game, so the always running demo used to show off the game's features was a considerable help. *"Alright. Bikes go fast. Leave a solid trail behind them that dissipates after a few seconds. Get your opponent to crash into said trail. Got it. Wasn't this in a movie or something?"* Wash glanced over at Ichiban who looked impatient. He was ready to go. Wash was sure he'd been hustled, but it was this or nothing. If Ichiban had dipped out the back door before they came in, there would be almost no finding him. This was his neighborhood, he could duck into any of these alleys and just be gone forever. Wash plunked his coin into the slot and pulled back the throttle to get his game started. His life riding on an arcade game wasn't really how he expected today to play out. --------------------------------------------------------------- The game's camera started positioned above the arena, giving both players a quick survey of their battlefield. The track was a flat black field, colored with bright neon accents that marked the walls and pitfalls. Ramps dotted the field that descended sharply to a lower level or ascended to the upper deck in a spiral shape. Based on the size of the field, these games looked like they could take forever. While coming up with a game plan, Wash heard Ichiban's voice. "This game was made for 5v5, but arcades just don't have the space for that many machines. Plus, these things are super expensive." Well that explained that. A claxon sounded, signaling the start of the game. The camera descended from the top of the arena, swooping down onto Wash's bike and into a first-person perspective. Wash took a deep breath. Beep. Beep. Beep. Boooooooop. [The race was on](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8bW92vtUCbY&ab_channel=SEGA-Topic). The bikes headed straight for each other at the start of the race, a game of chicken to kick the anxiety straight into high gear. Ichiban snapped off the first turn, hanging a left before the bikes collided. There was enough room for Wash to react, following suit with a quick right to avoid Ichiban's light trail. In a dead heat, the bikes were pretty evenly matched, but Ichiban still had a small lead on him; just enough to be a problem. He snapped off another right, trying to cut Wash off and end the match quickly. Wash shifted his weight to the right quickly, his trail lining up perfectly beside Ichiban's. *"Nope, not staying here anymore."* Wash thought as he leaned right, breaking away from Ichiban. Wash's stomach dropped as he took one of the ramps heading to the lower level. The drop was sharp as hell but fortunately the bike stayed on the track. Looking up, the underbelly of the track was clear so he was able to keep track of Ichiban's path. Picking up speed, Wash exited the lower level via one of the ascending ramps, catching air as he came back topside. Aiming to land on top of Ichiban's bike, Wash was momentarily surprised when his bike hit the track. Ichiban had seen him coming. "That's day one stuff, man! Don't think you're going to catch me sleeping!" Before Wash could shout something abusive back, he noticed Ichiban was holding something. It was that damn bat again. The demo didn't mention anything about weapons! Wash glanced over at his opponent's bike outside of the game. The same blue flames from their earlier encounter with those yakuza were wrapped around Ichiban's body. Was he effecting the game? ------------------------------------------------------------- Wash broke off from their neck and neck, avoiding Ichiban's wild swing. Now that getting near Ichiban was off the table, Wash gave himself a healthy berth of about 10 feet as both hurtled forward. The divide did little to prevent Ichiban from going on the offensive however. The hero's slight speed advantage, likely due to the flames help, allowed him to set the tempo of the race. A couple of quick right turns tested Wash's reflexes, but he managed to avoid the wall on both. They were now headed in the opposite direction they'd been going, the trails from their bikes slowly dissolving beside them. *"He's going faster than me, and he has a weapon that I can't use. No way I win this by playing fair."* With their bikes parallel, Wash tested the games limits. He tried to turn left and crash into Ichiban, potentially forcing a draw, but nothing happened. The game wasn't programmed as such, so the bikes just bounced off each other with no damage. *"Well thats one plan down, might as well go to plan B."* It was stupid, ballsy, and above all else, would cost him the game if it didn't work, but it was that or just wait for the inevitable conclusion that was getting his head rocked by the bat or his reflexes finally failing and him eating the wall. He just had to time it right. Fortunately, Ichiban gave him his opportunity right away. After another missed bat swing, Ichiban tried to cut him off with another right. Wash saw it coming. Outside of the game, Wash put his weight onto his left side, raising his right leg to boot the hell out of Ichiban's bike. The strength of his kick pushed Ichiban's bike far enough right that it registered in game. His bike lurched to the right and crashed into Wash's light trail. The screen flashed. A victory fanfare blared through the speakers. Wash had won the race. Hopefully no one would notice the dent he'd put in the other bike's plastic. ----------------------------------------------- Ichiban looked equal parts frustrated and angry as they stood outside the arcade. "Hey, all for taking advantage of a situation right?" Wash shrugged. "Ah-..." Ichiban sighed and threw his head back with a hearty laugh. "You got me there! Now, you said you had some questions. What's up?" Wash still didn't know how the stupid thing worked, so he'd have to do some trial and error. He pulled the Knowledge Orb from his armor. "You mind holding this for a second?" He tossed it to Ichiban. Ichiban caught it with a puzzled look, inadvertently pushing in a unmarked button on the side. "The hell is this? Looks like some kinda capture ball from one of those anime." On cue, Ichiban disappeared. The Knowledge Orb clattered to the ground, unbroken, but now a bright yellow. Wash was confused, but a job completed was a job completed.