#⊰ ᴠᴇʀsᴇ ⊱ ┅ ʜᴜɴᴛ ᴛʜᴇᴍ

[corruptedsorrows]

@pursuingideals​

   Now... just to reiterate, Chuuya didn’t like the Armed Detective Agency. He didn’t like anyone in the Armed Detective Agency. That being said, having been on the rescue helicopter when their boss had called in a favour, Chuuya had been a firsthand witness to Kunikida’s sacrifice to escape the Hunting Dogs. That at least, earned him some credit with Chuuya personally. In their world it was very rare to see someone willing to sacrifice themselves to a greater good. Most often they would put someone else in the position to take the fall for them. Chuuya was not one of those people. So, seeing someone else willing to throw themselves to such an unpromising end to defend their comrades, their mission, their morals, their ideals--it tickled him a bit. Never mind the fact it made Chuuya’s job easier; that was just an add-on.

   Chuuya honestly never thought he’d be standing in front of one of the apartments that housed the agency members. It was a dingy, cramped unit that rather turned Chuuya’s nose up at the sight of it. The bottle of gifted wine held in his hand would probably cover rent here for a month easily. Revolting... The task itself was simple; knock on the door, if Kunikida was home answer it and gift the drink without further comment, if Kunikida was not present the wine would be left at the door with a note, unsigned, and with a simple message of gratitude:

    ---‘You’re not as stupid as the rest of them.’

   Ok, well it was ‘Chuuya-gratitude’ what did you actually expect? Truthfully, Chuuya hoped the man wasn’t at home to avoid an awkward conversation explaining in more detail why he was here; and how if Kunikida were to spill this to anyone (especially a bandage wasting machine or the prick with the glasses and ungodly sweet tooth) he’d smash the blonde’s face into the curb. Again, see aforementioned ‘Chuuya-gratitude’.

   Reaching his hand to press the buzzer for the door alarm, Chuuya waited to see if Kunikida would answer the call. He shouldn’t be home... Chuuya had chosen to do this in the middle of the day for two reasons; 1) most people were at work in the middle of the day, 2) it was Chuuya’s off time so no one from the mafia would see him in ADA territory either. ┈✥

[corruptedsorrows]

@errantscriptor​ liked for a small starter

   So this man had been created from the book? Well... that certainly explained the odd feeling in the pit of his gut when speaking with him now. Chuuya had met a lot of people that had been meddled with in life to fit a certain mold... but not like this.

    ❝ You shouldn’t exist. You’re not powerful, yet for some reason they want to keep you around past your usefulness. Doesn’t make sense to me. ❞ ┈✥

[corruptedsorrows]

@giftandguile​

   Strong ability users... Chuuya always gets tasked with dealing with them. Some Dragon of unknown power about to destroy the city with ability users going mad? Send Chuuya. The Guild sends some alien monstrosity in? Send Chuuya. Dazai being captured by Port Mafia? Well, in truth Dazai *let* that happen and goaded Chuuya into harassing him, but Chuuya’s not going to admit he was actually played. Regardless, it seems to always be Chuuya’s job to deal with those most troublesome. He doesn’t mind being a trump card personally... the name of the organization he works for has changed since he was young, but the role is still the same. Certain people are meant to play certain roles in life and that suits him just fine.

   It’s ironic then it would seem his target is of a similar profile. While Chuuya may not have gotten the privilege to deal with him hand to hand, the Hunting Dog certainly created a wrinkle in Chuuya’s otherwise flawless grand entrance and get away. That, he held a personal grudge over. Mori had instructed him to keep it quick and clean, but Chuuya always liked doing things on the more flashy side anyways. First thing’s first though, locate the target.

   There was intel received that a man fighting the Hunting Dog’s profile frequented a few restaurants in the city, often ordering a peculiar meal plan--one that matched in colour. Strange... but with all Chuuya’s seen in his life that hardly reaches his top 20 list. He decides to frequent one of the establishments himself that day, a subtle way to move in on his prey and observe habits that may become useful in dealing with this man in the future. Out of all of the Hunting Dogs reports they’d seen come in, Suehiro Tetcho posed the biggest problem for their next move. ┈✥

[corruptedsorrows]

@whtrbbt​

    It’s late, he’s tired, and he’s had a mountain of paperwork to try and get through since he was released from that stupid book Ranpo had--no, he won’t even admit he was tricked into that.

    Normally, Chuuya will select a bar on his way home that’s more within Mafia territory. However, with the amount of pressure from his absence, both work related and simply in shame of his blunder, Chuuya chose a bar closer to the outskirts of Port Mafia territory. There’s less risk of running into someone he knows this way and he can be allowed a few precious moments to actually sort through his thoughts amidst a smoothe glass of Chardonnay. ┈✥

[corruptedsorrows]

@praevari​ liked for a short starter call

   ❝ Look, whatever it is you think you can find out through me, I don’t have any information on those idiot detectives. You’re wasting your time. ❞ ┈✥

[corruptedsorrows]

@antigifted​

   The first communication Chuuya received already had him on edge since Dazai was trying to reach him of all people. There were far better options, in the executive’s opinion, to communicate through while he was imprisoned. There was the entirety of the ADA for god’s sake... the people he was supposedly trying to save! Granted, they weren’t in the greatest position either to be monitoring the whereabouts and safety of the book, but they were certainly more involved with it right now than Chuuya was.

   Secondly, Dazai had the gall to use Ango as a sort of go-between for their communication; which meant Chuuya had to make more than a few trips to undisclosed locations to meet the government worker in private. Not an ideal situation by any means... Dazai was well aware Chuuya despised the Ango about equally to--if not more so than Dazai did himself. Yet, the bandaged mackerel was forcing Chuuya’s hand to meet with the government agent in order to ensure ensure the Angels of Decay did not walk away from this with their objectives met.

    ❝ I’m going to kill that bastard the moment he gets out of prison, ❞ Chuuya grumbled to himself while unveiling Dazai’s latest correspondence. 

   There was no doubt in his mind Dazai would escape his holding since he purposefully worked the system to be caught by it in the first place. At least... that’s what Chuuya assumed. Dazai never let himself be taken without reason for all the time Chuuya had known him. His younger self would’ve argued it was just a means for Dazai to avoid being involved in the more physical parts of any mission; and to a point Chuuya still believed that, but that wasn’t the only reason the vagabond had done it. There was advantages to monitoring your enemies closely, and Chuuya understood that quite well now. It was an ironic moment, considering the contents of the letter he was about to decrypt.

   The note in hand looked like little more than a series of numbers and lines. Chuuya knew better though. They were heartbeats; recorded in a frame of time in order to be coded into words--similar to a telegraph’s prompt. The numbers had been recorded down by Ango, and then delivered to Chuuya--for those that it were necessary he be involved with. Dazai certainly wasn’t sending Chuuya every letter!

   The latest correspondence from the traitorous bastard however, had Chuuya all but fuming as he began noting down numbers to reply back that Ango would then transfer on to Dazai.

     ---’You are out of your goddamn mind! I’m not spying on my boss for the likes of you, even if it is for the city. Anything he does is Port Mafia business and I will not have you meddling with it!’

   If there was a way to signal Chuuya was flipping Dazai off in his message he absolutely would’ve included it. Alas, coded messages could only encrypt so much. ┈✥

[corruptedsorrows]

@dxrmantel​

   Part of your job in Port Mafia was understanding your enemies. Chuuya had spent his entire day (or rather night since Port Mafia tended to operate opposite of society’s standards) researching this damn Gogol guy, and he wasn’t any closer to figuring out an effective method to deal with him. Groaning in frustration, Chuuya leaned back in the leather office chair, kicking his foot against the edge of the ornate wood grain on his desk.

   ❝ Damnit! How the hell am I supposed to beat this guy?! ❞ 

   Usually, Chuuya was supposed to figure out how to effectively deal with an enemy using all available resources, but since ‘all’ was rarely available in an actual battle, Chuuya liked to come up with conservative methods. Pridefully, he liked to understand how to deal with a situation alone himself should circumstances come to it. Luck favoured the prepared... if Mori, Dazai, or that rat bastard Dostoevsky were any example to go by.

   ❝ An ability that allows someone to manipulate objects through space... Not even gravity can fuck with that... ❞ Chuuya breathed slowly. He needed to calm down, think methodically about this. Were he to go against Nikolai Gogol in a fight how would it play out?

   His legs would be no use... They’d be transported through the enemy’s cape instantly--and more than likely be used effectively to boomerang back against Chuuya and give the gravity manipulator a taste of his own medicine. Brute force simply wasn’t an option.

   ❝ If strength only makes the opponent stronger... ❞ then he needs the opposite, something that destroys by pulling instead of pushing, ❝ Damnit... Do I seriously have to use ‘that’ to go up against this guy? ❞ 

   He’d never speak it aloud... There were too many eyes and ears in their world today, and the power of ‘that’ was too tempting for most to withstand. After the news of Tachihara, Chuuya had closed himself further from anyone’s reach. Nothing was spoken in confidence anymore.

   Crushing Gogol with an increased gravity would send the man flat against the ground, but for how long? He’d be able to instantly teleport to the air again. A punch or kick would only be turned back against Chuuya... Never mind whatever skills Gogol had in combat to begin with... Were the cloak to be destroyed with its own power though... Twisting and pulling the enemy away into his own space, into a world of nothingness at all--a black hole. There was only one thing Chuuya could do to manipulate gravity to such an extent; to call upon the god of destruction that dwelt within him and use its power.

   Corruption. ┈✥