by Ringan Tokeshi Tue Feb 14, 2012 4:16 pm
Drips and drops hit the cylinder like walkway that lined the underground of the Japan area. It was a futuristic yet dark setting that connected the subway and the bullet train stations together and also had exits to the rural and commercial areas.
The rainy and moist underground was not much much different than the rainy and moist town that lay above. This was modern day Tokyo. Ringan was now in the Shinjuku area. An area of many merchants, hotels, and other trade shops. The area was popular, but was less popular today due to the rain's depressive side effects.
Ringan looked around curiosly. A caucasian with a japanese name that held japanese like qualities, but only spoke english, because it was the most widely spoken language to his assigned areas and contacts. Everyone chatted with eachother, as their voices came across his ears for the most part most were unbothered by the war and were continuing with their daily lifes. But prior to the acceptance of Shinigami in the world, everything was in disarray and people were clinging to hope.
Ringan walked casually as he dropped his eyes to the ground watching his feetsteps as he was cautious to not get close to anyone. To avoid an ambush from another member of The Agency looking to proof themselves with his death. He was a top project, actually he had ranked 3rd in the killings, even though they were all pretty much and self defense and he didn't go hunting for his own like that.
The "C" project had brought in the most coldest and cruelest criminals from prisons and jails all over the world in exhange for money and bribes. The Agency applied these criminals to these rigorous tests and to experimentation trying to improve these Enigmas. Spiritual Slayers that went through the constant of death and the constant of change.
Ringan was given time so he returned back to his cruel home. Japan was where he was truely made. He was a tool merely used to kill beautiful and sometimes ugly things. This was something he had learned to accept and cope with. Even though he found the coping diffucult and not to his taste, much less anyones.
A briefcase full of guns was in his right hand from a previous job. They were mostly untouched, but served as something to kill off a few lesser hollow that had ambushed him. Along with another Project rank Enigma