Hisao and Kenji- Master Detectives! Conclusion? Update

[Hoitash]

Mutton chops. That is all.

Previous Chapter

Part Six: Escape


The explosion did the job, as usual, and Kenji shoved the left door open before tossing a couple frag grenades inside. He ducked back when someone started poring fire through the gap. Yep, they definitely had machine guns. The grenades going off managed to halt the incoming fire for a while, but it started up again when Mr. Andrews poked around the door to return fire.

“Three left,” Mr. Andrews said, checking his detector as he hugged the door for cover.

Kenji and I were crouched by the downed armor, in case we started taking fire from down the hall. Kenji and Mr. Andrews started exchanging bursts of fire with the elevator defenders, and once Kenji tossed another grenade in they were able to finish off the defense.

“So now all we have to do is get up top,” I said as they heaved the metal door open further. The Templar bodies were sprawled around, and two machine guns on tripods had bits of shrapnel imbedded in them. We stayed close to the door and looked up, checking for anyone above us. Mr. Andrews looked at his detector and grunted.

“There might be someone up there,” he said, “hard to tell from this far down.”

“Let’s find out,” Kenji aimed his rifle and fired a short burst into the shaft. No one returned fire, but when he took a few steps forward several single shots plunked into the concrete floor. If I hadn’t yanked him back as he tried to return fire, a couple of them would’ve hit him.

“I think they know we're here,” I quipped.

“Going up there would be suicide,” Kenji said.

“Unless…” Mr. Andrews said, “we still have the power armor…”

“It’s not working,” I said. He turned to me and radiated the look of patience he was no doubt wearing toward me.

“We don’t need to wear it,” he said, “we just need to move it.”

Oh. Yeah, that would be great for my heart. As it was I needed to take my morning meds.

“So we hide under it while we head up-top?” I asked.

Mr. Andrews nodded, “it’s that or head for the tunnel, and we need to hurry- the longer we take, the more likely they’ll consider the loss of the helo’s to stop us worth it.”

“Not to mention we got incoming base personnel,” Kenji said, checking his motion detector before he finished opening the metal double-doors. As he did so a couple of pistol rounds went wide to his right. He and Mr. Andrews crouched over to the armor to drag it in. While they did that, I grabbed one of the Templar’s assault rifles and started shooting down the hall. Using the nearest door recess for cover, I ended up with only a graze on my left arm. Kenji took a few glancing rounds, and as the two heaved the armor into the room Mr. Andrews had a gash on his right arm.

“Get the doors,” Mr. Andrews said. The armor was making a racket as it dragged and scraped along the floor, and when they had finally cleared the doors I was able to force them shut. The handles had been blown off, so I dragged a nearby body over to block it. That probably wouldn’t block the door for long, but it would have to do. Kenji hugged the room’s walls and did the same thing with the other door.

“So, how do we get under this and onto the elevator?” I asked.

“Lift with your legs,” Mr. Andrews said.

“Hang on,” I said, and grabbed for my meds, which I kept in a small bottle on my belt for this trip. I adjusted my mask for a minute and managed to dry swallow them. When I was done I readjusted my mask and nodded to Mr. Andrews, “ready as I’ll ever be.”

Kenji grabbed the torso, grasping the neck. I took the left leg and Mr. Andrews took the right.

“I don’t suppose we could just pry it off him and use it that way?” I asked.

Mr. Andrews turned to me, “getting this crap on and off is a pain, and while we could, it’s probably easier to just heft ourselves under it.”

I sighed and nodded. The armor, and what was left of the guy inside it, was annoyingly heavy. We could barely lift it off the ground, so I had no idea how we were going to get under it. Kenji surprised me by crouching down and wedging himself under the armor. Our human jack allowed us to lift the armor higher, but we had to move it faster before we broke Kenji’s back. This meant coordinating several things at once, and I wasn’t sure we could pull it off. The double doors on both sides started heaving open at that point, so we all groaned and ran with it. Well, walked awkwardly and quickly with it.

While we shuffled onto the elevator Mr. Andrews reached over and slammed his fist on the up button while incoming fire from above started to increase, but it was aimed mainly at the armor. The shots made scratches in the armor, but it held. Once we were completely on the elevator, Kenji went prone and we all awkwardly cuddled under the armor’s torso. Unfortunately, cuddled is the best way to describe it.

“What happens under the armor, stays under the armor,” I said as we started to lurch upward.

“Agreed,” the other two said.

Mr. Andrews was the only one on his back, so he was the only one who could return fire with his pistol. Only then did I realize we were dead, for the simple reason that a single grenade on the platform would probably kill us all. When I didn’t hear any clatter around us, though, I started to think we might make it.

We slowly rose upward, and as we did so I started hear gunfire above us, but no shots pinged down at or around us. When the elevator finally reached the surface, the scene before us revealed the reason for both the gunfire and our survival upward. The elevator shaft was surrounded by four downed Templars. Another one was on his back near the outpost, his rifle in his hand and his body riddled with bullets. Apparently there was a Freemason mole in the base. That or the Templars were starting to turn on each other. Either way, we started taking fire from the old radar building as we lurched out from under the armor, so we crouch ran for the three nearby helicopters, taking sporadic and poorly aimed incoming fire the entire time. Two of the helicopters had the fuel lines cut, but the third was still working. Mr. Andrews shoved the cockpit door open and slid in. Kenji and I heaved ourselves into the back seats and Mr. Andrews started preparing us for flight.

That would take some time, though, and while he did a quick pre-flight check, the Templars from the buildings started to run toward us, opening fire as they came. The copter we were in was unarmed, and definitely designed for civilian passengers- the seats were more comfortable then the ones in the copter we had taken in, at least. Bullets started slamming into the copter’s frame and side panels just as the blades above us started spinning. As they gained speed a couple shots cracked the cockpit glass, and Mr. Andrews swore and started muttering in English as the helicopter finally started lifting off the ground. we stayed low to the floor as we flew away, and when we weren’t blown out of the sky as we crossed over onto the ocean, I finally slumped into my chair and relaxed.

“Why aren’t they shooting at us?” Kenji asked.

“They can’t get a lock, most likely,” Mr. Andrew said, “that or they ran out. These outposts never have more then a couple missiles, to keep things inconspicuous.”

“So we made it?” I asked. I wasn’t worried about getting back to Japan; I’ve entered and exited the country less then legally before.

Mr. Andrews nodded as he took off his combat helmet and mask before grabbing the copter’s headset, “we made it.”

I smiled as I looked out through the windows on the side doors. The sun was starting to rise, bathing the vast blue below us in oranges and reds as we flew towards the sunrise. Thankful it was Sunday, I slumped some more into my chair and closed my eyes.

When Hanako saw how cut up I was, she was going to have a fit.

THE END OF MYSTERY FIVE

+++

Things have been escalating, but they can only go so high before they crescendo! Are you ready for the crescendo?

Next time on Hisao and Kenji- Master Detectives!

Kenji may have discovered the secret to finally eradicating the Illuminati. Doing so will descend the Secret Societies into a tense and bloody war that will finally destroy them once and for all. To succeed, however, the Detective Duo will have to rely on outside help from several sources, some of whom they may not be able to trust. Hisao has to come to terms with the path he has chosen, as he once again puts himself on the line for his new cause.

Tune in next time for Mystery Six: The Final Showdown?

Same thread, same forum!

[griffon8]

“I think they know where here,” I quipped.

we're

The armor, and what was left of the guy inside it, were annoyingly heavy.

was—armor is your subject, and that is singular

You are absolutely insane. And entertaining.

[Hoitash]

Danke, edits made.

You are absolutely insane. And entertaining.

Thank you, sir. /bows

God willing, this is just the beginning

[Hoitash]

There are those that believe that writing here, began out there. That this forum’s fan fiction writing is the precursor to the Mayans, or the Toltecs. Some believe there may yet be writers of fan fiction, who even now fight so survive, somewhere beyond the heavens…


Mystery Six: The Final Showdown?


Part One: Planning


A year. A year ago, I, Hisao Nakai, and my partner and best friend, Kenji Setou, discovered the world was plagued with ancient orders of Secret Societies. Some wanted to control the world from behind the scenes. Some wanted to stop the other Societies. Over the course of the last year, more from luck and happenstance then any concentrated effort on our part -though Kenji would insist otherwise-, we set those groups towards a massive series of conflicts that slowly tore them apart. One enemy, however, remained, almost as strong as ever.

The Illuminati, the strongest, largest, and oldest of the Societies, was stubbornly refusing to die away. The Freemasons had been wiped out when their moles engaged their endgame operation. The Templars and the Hospitillars continued to fight each other in remote corners of South America, Asia, and Europe. The Illuminati, however, maintained a strong presence in the United States, Germany, Russia, and, annoyingly, Japan. With the other Societies nearly wiped out, the Illuminati were poised to bounce back from the last year’s defeats, and become an unopposed menace to the world, stronger then they had ever been before. The only reason they hadn’t already was because they spent as much time fighting each other as they did doing anything productive.

Or so Kenji had told me, at any rate. Two nights a week I sat in the office of his Private Detective agency, helping him plan the Final Stroke against the Illuminati. I also occasionally helped with detective work, made sure my family had no idea what was going on, and now, I had to entertain his girlfriend while he pored over files, documents, and Golden Throne knows what else.

Miya Takano liked to come over to the office every now and then, probably because Kenji was a workaholic. Though the two had only been dating for a few months, they seemed really close, when Kenji wasn’t rambling and ranting like a university professor on acid. She usually brought a pizza and some scotch, and we had a sort of picnic on Kenji’s dark wooden desk. Then Kenji would go back to work and I’d play a game of chess with her. She wasn’t very good, which I liked- it was nice to win every once in a while.

Miya was a short young woman, about a year younger than us. She had nice brown eyes and long brown hair she kept in a ponytail. She wore a brown skirted suit that matched mine and Kenji’s, and she even wore a fedora when she drove Kenji for work. I could tell she was upset with Kenji’s obsession, worse because she couldn’t know the truth of it, but her patience would be well rewarded- Kenji had implied to me she was “the one”

First, we had to finish off the Illuminati. At least, Kenji said we did. All I knew for sure was that I was sick of puppet masters lurking in the darkness, and I wanted my kids to grow up in a world free of their influence.

“Checkmate,” I said, finally cornering her king. She sighed quietly and stood up, bowing slightly as we complimented each other’s skill. She turned to Kenji, who was drawing arrows on a large whiteboard while he kept his legally blind eyes close to the board itself. He used it to monitor the Secret Societies war’s against each other.

“Bye, Kenji- I need to go to work,” she worked nights at a twenty-four hour café in town, in addition to her efforts at freelance advertising art design. The café she worked at was where the two had met, right before a very angry client’s ex-husband nearly gutted Kenji and I in an alley.

“Bye, Miya. See you next…Tuesday for dinner?” his eyes, covered by a thick pair of round glasses, never left the whiteboard as he spoke. He was smiling widely, though.

“Yup, see you then,” Miya said, and after giving him a quick kiss on the cheek, she walked out of the office. When the door closed Kenji sighed and turned to me.

“I wish we could tell her, man,” he said, running a hand through his short, poorly kempt black hair, “I never knew how this shit gnawed at you until you had someone you care about.”

I nodded, a loose strand of my own short brown hair entering my vision before I swatted it away, “welcome to my life.”

Kenji grinned and turned back to the board, “well, I think I have the key to finishing off the Illuminati once and for all.”

I raised an eyebrow, “really?”

Kenji nodded, “our problem is, as fragmented as the Illuminati are, as long as they have a strong leadership, even one that’s divided, they can keep things moving.”

I nodded, “as long as one leader from one faction survives, he can rebuild.”

Kenji nodded excitedly, “so all we have to do is take out the four Remaining High Elders, and the Region Masters, and they’ll be weak enough that finally all this constant warring will wipe them out!”

“Okay…” I paused, preparing myself for a plan filled with violence and near heart attacks, “how do you propose we do that? If I have to infiltrate another Society outpost, I’m going to hit you over the head with a whiskey bottle.”

Kenji scoffed, “don’t worry man, we won’t be infiltrating another basement outpost.”

I slowly nodded, “good.”

“We’ll be blowing up a ship.”

“What.”

Kenji reached into his desk and pulled out a large rolled sheet of paper, which he placed on the desk and unfurled. After keeping it open with two coffee mugs, he started pointing to the map, which showed both the northern Pacific Ocean, and a schematic of what looked like a large ocean freighter.

“I mean metaphorically,” Kenji explained, “every year the Illuminati have a meeting of their top leaders.”

Sensing a rant, I eased into one of the three brown leather office chairs I was sitting in and made myself comfortable, “why?”

“Meeting in person helps keep what little cohesion the group has intact. Even while they backstab each other, they still work to coordinate and remind themselves that their goal is the same.”

“To forge the New World Order, and be in charge of that new order,” I supplied, “its just each group wants their country’s flag planted on the ashes of the Old Order when they declare the new one.”

Kenji nodded, “exactly. So every year they meet on an old super tanker cargo ship. I finally found the data from our raid that told me which one, and now we can blow it up when they meet in a week.”

That was… disturbingly simple. There had to be a catch.

“So… we just toss a torpedo at it?” I asked.

Kenji frowned and sighed, “sadly, no. It may be just an old freighter, but it has better defenses then the Death Star.”

“Alright, so where’s our exhaust port?”

Kenji’s smile went maximum crazy as he grabbed a pen and shoved it at the cargo hold, likely by memory more than an ability to read the label on the paper, “the whole thing. Only the most trusted security personnel are allowed on board, because if anyone decided to get ideas, they could seriously cripple the Society. Some people might be tempted by such a target.”

“No kidding… Wait, you’re not seriously saying we infiltrate as security members?”

Kenji nodded, “that is exactly what I’m planning.”

He reached into the desk again and pulled out a half-empty bottle of whiskey, “here man, if you want to hit me with one, the time has come.”

Honestly, I considered it. I had a wife, three kids, a high school full of students who actually enjoyed learning thanks to me, and he was asking me to risk everything for another spelunk into the very depths of hell. This time, though, he had something to lose, too. If he didn’t have one kickass plan in mind, he wouldn’t have even brought it up. I sighed, grabbed the bottle, and poured a shot into the coffee mug nearest me. I poured another shot into the second and looked up at Kenji.

“If this plan doesn’t blow my mind, you’re in for a world of hurt, bro.”

Kenji clapped his hands together and grabbed a mug, holding the map down with his free hand as he kicked back the shot, “of course, man. I’ve been working on this plan for weeks.”

As he started explaining the plan to me, I found myself slowly nodding along. It was, as usual, a decent plan, but it hinged on a few key things, and if those fell through, we were buying ourselves a sailor’s grave.

“Alright,” I said as he finished, grabbing my shot of whiskey, “when and how do we start?”

If Kenji’s face got any more maniacal, I was going to have to call Christian Bale, “we start tonight, and we start by contacting someone I think we can trust.”

I raised an eyebrow as I sipped my drink, “you…think?”

Kenji shrugged, “Mr. Weyland is a close associate of Mr. Sarif, so I think we can trust him. I know we can trust Claudia Donovan, so we have that going for us at least.”

“Assuming they’re willing to help, of course.”

Kenji nodded lightly, “of course, but more then that, I have to ask: are you willing to go with me, come hell or high blood pressure?”

I smirked at his crack at my heart condition. I knew what I should say and what I had to say, so I raised my mug and said the first thing that came to mind:

“Only in death does duty end.”

+++
Next Chapter

For the Emperor!

The series has hopefully now returned to be more like the earlier Mysteries. I’d hate for those virgin sacrifices to have been in vain.

By “sacrifice” I mean they sacrificed their virginity to me- willingly, of course.

EDIT: Theme Song of Awesome added to the First Post.

[griffon8]

EDIT: Theme Song of Awesome added to the First Post.

It wasn't until I got to the first line of the last stanza that I realized what song you were using.

I've said it before, and I'll say it again: You are absolutely insane. And entertaining.

[Hoitash]

I've said it before, and I'll say it again: You are absolutely insane. And entertaining.

Again, I thank you

/bows.

[Helbereth]

Crap, I think I've missed the last 3 of 4 updates because I haven't had time to read them (partially your fault). Unfortunately, I've had too much going on to read for pleasure (again, partially your fault). Just thought I'd post something here since I've been rather consistent with reading and commenting previously; didn't want you to think I was avoiding it intentionally.

[Hoitash]

Crap, I think I've missed the last 3 of 4 updates because I haven't had time to read them (partially your fault)

I remain unrepentant, but do apologize for the inconvience.

Unfortunately, I've had too much going on to read for pleasure (again, partially your fault)

You love it and you know it (some of it, at least). Again, though, I do apologize for the inconvenience.

(For those curious what the balls we're talking about, stay tuned.)

Just thought I'd post something here since I've been rather consistent with reading and commenting previously; didn't want you to think I was avoiding it intentionally.

I was a little worried, so thanks. When you're ready to pounce, I'll be waiting with a Word Document and a bottle of Johnnie Walker

[Mirage_GSM]

helping him plan the Final Stroke against the Illuminati.

...Apparently it is possible to use "stroke" in this context. I just never encountered it before.

Miya was a short young woman, about a year younger then us.

[Hoitash]

...Apparently it is possible to use "stroke" in this context. I just never encountered it before.

As a historian, I'm often exposed to more archaic linguistic patterns, some of which I like to use in my writing (although I had a boss that was desperately trying to bring back "groovy".)

Miya was a short young woman, about a year younger then us.

Should it be "than"? If so fixed, and thanks for noticing/reading/commenting.

[Hoitash]

Wiki’s are your friends. If you’re a writer, at least.

Previous Chapter

Part Two: Allies


I expected Peter Weyland to be hard to contact, especially on short notice, and especially through a webcam. Somehow, Kenji had pulled it off, and we were looking at the image of the man through a screen on Kenji’s laptop as we sat at his desk.

Mr. Weyland started talking to Kenji, whose knowledge of English was marginally better than mine. Mr. Weyland had light black hair that looked a little thin on the forehead, despite the fact he was only nineteen years old. After his father, the founder of Weyland Industries, died eighteen years ago under mysterious circumstances, his company had fallen to the Board of Executives. Peter Weyland was a very low ranking manager while he went through business school to learn the technical aspects of his job, and because Charles Bishop Weyland’s will had stipulated his son go to college before he could be voted CEO, according to Kenji.

Kenji kept calm, even though the young Weyland seemed pretty ticked off. I picked out a few words, and the name Jonathon Matthews. That definitely got Mr. Weyland’s attention, and as the two spoke, Kenji would occasionally jot down some notes on a nearby pad of paper. He was trying to write bits of the conversation for me, but it was pretty hard to decipher. The gist was Mr. Weyland was incredibly surprised we knew who Mr. Matthews was- or rather, had been. Kenji was speaking very openly about what he was planning, and Mr. Weyland was… responsive. Weyland Industries was a prime candidate for being an Illuminati conspirator in my book, but it seemed that was the Board of Executive’s decision. Mr. Weyland and his son seemed to oppose the whole Secret Society concept.

After roughly an hour of negotiations, Mr. Weyland agreed to help us by getting us attached to the US contribution to the freighter’s security team. Fake names and credentials would go with us, along with a reference from one of his top Security members, a Mrs. Josefina Lupo-Donovan. She was going along, too. In exchange for this info, we had to hand over our data on the Illuminati. Well, some of it- the two spent quite a while haggling over what and how much to send. Eventually the two reached an agreement, and after a quick goodbye, Mr. Weyland hung up on us.

Kenji grinned diabolically and turned to me, “this is perfect. We have the best in to the ship we could get without joining the Illuminati.”

“Won’t they be suspicious of us? Three people they don’t know just showing up?”

Kenji shook his head, “if we’re vouched for by Weyland Industries and the US Department of Defense, we’re in like a hot dog in a bun.”

I had missed the DoD being involved. Government infiltration was more the Templar’s shtick, but whatever helped.

I checked my watch for the time and sighed. I had already called my wife and told her I was working late with Kenji again, and as usual she understood. She said I was a calming influence on him.

“So, we call Claudia next?” I asked.

Kenji nodded and frowned as he started preparing his next call, “yeah, but contacting her will be a pain. The last time I called to ask for more Tesla grenades, I had to spend a day at the US Embassy.”

Kenji started typing and smiled when he heard a ringing sound, “fortunately for us, Claudia gave us a decent way to contact her directly.”

It took a while, but eventually Kenji was able to make contact with the young redheaded American. In her mid-twenties with short red hair, Claudia was an Agent for a top secret US government organization -at the moment it was, at least- that dealt with weird shit. We had met a couple of them before, and they had given us a hand now and then with our side project. Claudia was our contact, because besides making most of the things they sent us, she was very handy with computers. Which helped us a ton, because she had a two-way vocal translation program installed in her computer, which she insisted was better than the available market versions. The tone was a bit creepy and laggy, but it meant we could both talk to her a lot faster than if we used English, or had Myka translate for the two of us.

“Hey, guys,” she said, the translator program’s flat tone a stark contrast to the young woman’s bright smile, “you don’t need more grenades already?”

“No, we’re good on those,” I said, slowly and clearly for the program’s benefit, “we just need your help with a job. Oh, and thanks for that dagger, it saved my life.”

“Happy to help,” Claudia beamed back at us, “thanks for sending those bits of power armor ceramic. Fargo had a field day when I sent him a piece.”

“Whatever helps,” Kenji responded.

“So what do you need my help with?”

Kenji explained his plan again, and why he wanted her help. While infiltrating the place was all well and good, once we were inside, we needed a way to navigate around the freighter pretty damn quick. Especially if we wanted it to look like an inside job, and double especially if we wanted to ensure maximum casualties when we sunk the ship. Claudia’s smile slowly withered into a frown as Kenji spoke, and when he was done, the look on her face was not reassuring.

“You want me to play radio voice with you, over an ocean, in your time zone, and not get caught doing it. What’s in it for me?”

“The warm fuzzy feeling you get for doing the right thing?” I offered.

“Besides that,” Claudia retorted.

Kenji sighed and leaned closer to the monitor, “please, Claudia, I know it’s asking a lot, but this is the world’s best chance for stopping these nuts once and for all. Please?”

Claudia sighed and smirked, “alright, you got me. I guess I owe you for that mess in Nagasaki anyway.”

“I told you that was Jinxie’s fault,” I grumbled.

Claudia chuckled, “if you say so, Hisao. Send me the details and I’ll get everything ready on my end, okay?”

“Sure thing,” Kenji said, and hung up.

Kenji sighed and turned to me again, “excellent, all the pieces are in place. All we need now is to strike.”

His phraseology got me thinking, “great, now we sound like them.”

Kenji frowned, but after a moment’s thought he nodded slowly, “maybe, but at the end of the day, we’re just two guys trying to do what’s right. What they’re doing, that’s not right. Right?”

I nodded to reassure him, “right. Still, it feels like a lot could go wrong with this plan.”

“It’s not perfect,” Kenji admitted, “but it’s the best I could come up with. We go in as security, set up some explosives in the engine room, the security camera observation room, and as close to the meeting room as we can get. We set them off at the same time we take out the bridge, then we grab one of the motor boats and get the fuck outta there.”

I nodded along, “that sounds great on paper, but when you look at the big picture, we’re fucked. That boat will have two hundred people on it, and of that one hundred is security. The fifty crewmen will probably be armed, and I doubt any of the leaders will go quietly, either. We’ll be outnumbered a hundred to one, with our only line of escape the open ocean.”

Kenji nodded, “I know, man. But this is our best bet, and if we’re going to roll the dice, at least we got them loaded in our favor.”

I rolled my eyes, “right, some woman from a corporation that probably doesn’t speak Japanese, a Warehouse Agent, and the trust that Mr. Weyland won’t sell us out to increase his chance at power.”

Kenji glowered at my left ear, “well, when you say it like that, of course it sounds bad.”

I gave a snort before retorting, “well, how would you say it?”

Kenji opened his mouth but didn’t speak for a moment. He ran his right hand through his black hair a few times, and after a moment or two of silence, he snapped his fingers, “we’ve rescued a retired member of the Yakuza. We’ve helped Warehouse Agents recover artifacts. We’ve infiltrated and escaped from an Illuminati listening post. We survived an assault on a Freemason stronghold. We survived an infiltration mission of a Templar meeting post, and nearly every time all we had was some allies, a plan, and our massive motherfuckin’ balls. We’ve done it before, and come hell or high water, we’ll do it again!”

Unfortunately for me and my blood pressure, I believed him.

+++

Next Chapter

Wow, if I link this fic to any more continuity’s, I might just break the internet…

I need to look up Japanese Fae.

[Oddball]

I've just read this entire thing from start to ... where you are now.

It's fast paced, amusing at parts, rather exciting, mostly entertaining, and (I hate to do this) also it's starting to get monotonous.

You know, looking back on my earlier work, I think my emphasis on the action has degraded the overall quality of my writing.

This I will agree with 100%.

When the story started, they were actually detectives, doing investigation, interacting with people, they had normal lives, and Hisao actually felt like he belonged there.

As it's gone along, it's tuned from "Hisao and Kenji: Master Detectives" to "Hisao and Kenji: Super Commandos vs the Secret Societies of the World!"

After a while, it all starts to blend together. Hisao and Kenii with more weapons than God do some sort of commando run on a base of some sort of Secret Society. Somewhere along the way Hisao mentions that he's worried about his family, yet he never really seem to be reluctant to go on these missions. Most of his complaints just seem like him complaining for the sake of complaining. Of course it's not like his family is actually given any screen time so that we would care about them anyway. The more action adventure shoot-em ups you put him in, the less he actually feels like Hisao and the more he's just generic action hero. Although I will give you this, Hisao seems to be having more heart problems in the later chapters. I don't know if you're going anywhere with this, but it might be something worth latching on to. A guy with a family and a heart condition can't keep doing his best Schwarzenegger impression forever.

Really though, do they ever get any cases that don't involve machine guns and secret societies?

Also, Kenji is actually starting to seem like a normal person. It feels like less growth of character and more like you've just stopped adding his quirks in your writing.

[Hoitash]

You know, looking back on my earlier work, I think my emphasis on the action has degraded the overall quality of my writing.

This I will agree with 100%.

I am working to correct this, though monotony might occur anyway. One of the reasons I wrote this was because I was bored; posting it was a result of writing it (I wrote all this, may as well post it. Thinking about it didn't occur until recently; it was mostly to entertain myself.)

As it's gone along, it's tuned from "Hisao and Kenji: Master Detectives" to "Hisao and Kenji: Super Commandos vs the Secret Societies of the World!"

Yeah, that kind of just happened as the plot progressed. When you're dedicated to ending the world's puppet masters, you generally need less detective work, and more guns. Again, I will try to fix this in the future (I think I'll succeed, but I also thought by 23 I'd have a job and a digital keyboard )

Really though, do they ever get any cases that don't involve machine guns and secret societies?

To be fair, the bad guys have the machine guns.

Sure they do other cases, but I'm too lousy a writer to make those interesting (the mystery genre was my mom's thing, not mine.)

Also, Kenji is actually starting to seem like a normal person. It feels like less growth of character and more like you've just stopped adding his quirks in your writing.

Hmm, could you please elaborate on this?

Thanks for reading and commenting, and I'll try and redirect the series, but, as I've already finished writing it- all twelve mysteries and 300 pages- it'll be tough to do. I'll try my dadgummest, though

[Oddball]

I am working to correct this, though monotony might occur anyway. One of the reasons I wrote this was because I was bored; posting it was a result of writing it (I wrote all this, may as well post it. Thinking about it didn't occur until recently; it was mostly to entertain myself.)

I know that feeling well.

Yeah, that kind of just happened as the plot progressed. When you're dedicated to ending the world's puppet masters, you generally need less detective work, and more guns. Again, I will try to fix this in the future (I think I'll succeed, but I also thought by 23 I'd have a job and a digital keyboard )

Well, if you don't mind doing a bit more writing on it, adding maybe a short case or two between you're already written chapters would make it feel like they weren't just constantly doing commando runs. They don't even have to be super interesting cases, just character based stuff. You could spend a chapter with them just talking while on a stakeout.

A few brief scenes with Hisao's family wouldn't hurt either.

Hmm, could you please elaborate on this?

In the game, Kenji is highly paranoid, quickly jumps to irrational conclusions, thinks highly of himself, and tends to speak dramatically with metaphors that don't quite work.

In HIghschool, he was afraid that there were agents everywhere plotting against him. Now that he KNOWS there are secret societies everywhere and that they DO want him dead, he seems remarkably trusting and easy to get a hold of.

At this point, one would almost figure he'd be taking precautions and wearing disguises just to check his mail. If somebody refused to take his expired coupon for the wrong item, he'd take it as a sign they were part of some secret society just making trouble for him.

Plus, he's talking about taking down massive international secret societies and hasn't once talked about how mankind will praise him, build statues. or anything like that.

Also, I think you need to remember that these guys are NOT exactly in the best shape in the world. For instance, unless I missed where you changed up, Kenji is pretty scrawny and can barely see the broad side of a barn from inside the barn and Hisao was having heart problems from tings far les dramatic than jumping out of airplanes and being shot at.

These guys are not action heroes and they're going up against people that are highly trained and well armed. There's no shame in actually letting the two of them get busted up a bit.

[Hoitash]

Well, if you don't mind doing a bit more writing on it, adding maybe a short case or two between you're already written chapters would make it feel like they weren't just constantly doing commando runs. They don't even have to be super interesting cases, just character based stuff. You could spend a chapter with them just talking while on a stakeout.

Okay, this I can do/have done. Though I ask for patience, as Mystery Six is sort of a climax, and kinda needs to wrap up the action heavy stuff before some semblance of normalcy can return. Also, a few of the later Mysteries may be action heavy as required by the plot.

(You've already got me thinking about how to improve the series, you genius, you )

A few brief scenes with Hisao's family wouldn't hurt either.

Mystery Three was a while ago, wasn't it? I'll make a note of that, see what I can do.

Plus, he's talking about taking down massive international secret societies and hasn't once talked about how mankind will praise him, build statues. or anything like that.

I actually mentioned in an earlier Mystery that he doesn't really care about that anymore. A major part of this series is how Kenji matured in college- I think shock therapy was involved-, and is now more grounded and down to earth.

(A side-effect being he's less quirky and interesting a character, but you can't please everyone.)

Also, I think you need to remember that these guys are NOT exactly in the best shape in the world. For instance, unless I missed where you changed up, Kenji is pretty scrawny and can barely see the broad side of a barn from inside the barn and Hisao was having heart problems from tings far les dramatic than jumping out of airplanes and being shot at.

I did mention in Mystery One that Hisao started that running routine, and his medicines are more advanced (you still have a valid point, but I have taken it into consideration.)

There's no shame in actually letting the two of them get busted up a bit.

Some good will come from Mystery Six then, after all

Thanks for the advice, I'll try and make as much use of it as I can (if I don't its not that I ignored you, its that's my writing skills weren't up to the task.) Oh, and Part Three Will be up in a couple hours; I wanted to answer you before posting it. So speaking of running, I gotta go do that now.