Chapter 2: Chapter Two: Master and Student
Inside the building, a person snored loudly from underneath a faded magazine, bottles of dubious contents near to hand. The elderly gentleman left some money under one of the bottles, and strode past with barely a glance at the snoring individual, followed closely by the young woman, who eyed the sleeping person quizzically.
Out on the other side of the building were piles of rusting junk interspersed with a few vehicles only distinguishable from the junk because they had tires that were not flat. The elderly man shoved aside some of the junk in one pile which revealed a hidden truck only marginally better looking than the rest. They loaded their gear onto the truck. He siphoned some gas into its' tank from a nearby barrel, and retrieved the keys from the visor.
The young lady watched this stoically. It wasn't until they were on their way, along a barely visible track through the surrounding jungle, that she broke the silence.
"Master?"
"Speak."
"You have trained me for years now. Body control, photographic memory exercises, strength training, flexibility, psychology, hypnosis, marksmanship, weaponry, disguise, languages, meditation, espionage, martial arts, vehicle operation, and more. Travel to more than half the countries in the world. But we've never been here. You've never mentioned it even once. Not a hint in any record. The fact that there is a complete blank about this paints a clear target. You've been deliberately hiding this place, wherever and whatever it is," she accused.
The man was silent for a moment, then began skillfully removing his disguise with a single rock steady hand despite the jouncing and jolting of the truck over the uneven jungle track. Gone was the white wig, his skin peeled away to reveal paleness, a needle injected a fluid into certain areas of his face which dissolved a compound that had changed his facial structure.
The young woman patiently waited for him to finish, used to his ways.
"Well reasoned, girl…. Now, if only you were a male," the man finally said. His lean and sharp featured pale face could not be more different than his previous appearance. His hair was streaked with gray, but still held faint remnants of the original black.
"Seriously, what is it with you and women?" asked the girl. "Or is it just me? You never seem this way with others, but even the faintest of praise always comes attached with a rider, when it is me. I would like to know why."
"It took you long enough to question," the man replied unhelpfully.
"Oh, I questioned a long time ago," she retorted. "I just thought you were a bigot at first, or prejudiced. But I soon realized that couldn't be it. It didn't fit your profile."
"Profiling… me?" queried the man. "And what results did you achieve?"
"Not a whole lot, as you well know. Towards every woman but me, you are the model of courtesy and old-fashioned charm," the girl answered with pique, "You were the one who taught me how to profile in the first place. It's not like you don't know all the tricks, and more that you haven't taught me."
A corner of his mouth twitched, faintly. On him, this was what passed for a grin, and it was something he deliberately allowed her to see, she knew.
Weekly Power Status
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Ranking 
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