Warning: mentioned suicide, described drug use, mentioned slavery/kidnapping
As Syobai walked around on the first island, trying to smoke a cigarette without Hajime or Sora getting on his case about it, he heard the sound of light footsteps rapidly approaching, as if someone was running towards him.
When he turned around, he spotted Nikei running towards him, nearly out of breath. "H-Hey! Wait up!" The journalist called, nearly tripping over his own shoes as he finally skidded to a halt in front of Syobai.
The broker sighed, seeing the sparkles lighting up Nikei's eyes and having a feeling that he couldn't escape like this. "What the hell do you want?" He grumbled.
"Monocrow asked me to collect information so that he could make an extended profile for our classmates, so I...I've been running around all day...!" Nikei panted, flipping to a new page in his notepad. "I'll only bother you about this once, then I'll leave you alone, alright?"
Syobai rolled his eyes, figuring that he might as well just get this over with quickly so that he could smoke and Nikei wouldn't bother him again. "Okay, shoot."
"Alright, to start off with, what is your blood type, dominant hand, and favourite colour?" The journalist began, switching from a happy-go-lucky manner into a professional persona.
"Blood type is B, right hand, and grey." He replied. "I'm guessing that your questions don't end there?"
"No." Nikei replied. "What is your hobby, specialty, and do you have any family in your life?"
"Saving money, knife spinning, and my family's all gone. Bastards must have killed themselves or something." Syobai continued.
"What was the high school you were at before you came here, and what are your likes and dislikes?" Nikei went on.
"Hitei School of Commerce, my own money and life, and wasting." The broker sighed. "Are you done yet?"
"No, just two more questions to go." The journalist kept writing all the information down. "When it comes to the items in the prize machine, which ones can you say that you actively like?"
"Oh, now you're drilling me on items? Alright, I'll try to remember what you idiots gave me..." Syobai took a moment to think. "I like the gold bar, wedding ring, gold ring, knife, white devil, alcohol-free wine, crowbar, champagne, strange vial, kitchen knife, silver ring, Japanese sake, seven-branched sword, hot seven, and holy lance."
"You like the strange vial? How interesting..." Nikei murmured, continuing to write everything down in his notepad. "By the way, do you know what that weird, green liquid inside is? I don't think I've seen it in my lifetime!"
"Of course you haven't, you probably haven't been to the black market before." Syobai sighed, hating that he had to keep talking. "It's a powerful anesthetic that has to be injected into your bloodstream for it to work, and you can accurately measure how long you want the effects to last."
"With a medication that powerful, why isn't it known to hospitals?" The journalist questioned. "If it's on the black market, is it a recreational drug?"
"Sort of. The effect of this anesthetic is that you get into a heavily dazed state and your mind gets cloudy. I know what it's like, I've been under the effects before. I've seen some people become addicts to its effects, clamouring to get more." The broker explained. "This type of anesthetic isn't just used for recreation, but it's commonly known in the black market as a tool for kidnapping, smuggling, and slavery since it keeps the victims dim-witted and non-resistant. I'll give you a warning now, Newsie, if a journalist like you shows up in the black market unprepared, you're going to be well acquainted with this drug really quick. They don't like journalists there."
Nikei's eyes went wide and he flipped to another page to write Syobai's warning down. "Thanks for that, I'll write it down and keep that in mind. Is there a counter-drug to this anesthetic?" He asked, adding another point to his already-started long list of what dangers to avoid when researching dark sides of society.
"Well, it can be countered by citric acid or white wine, but I doubt that the victim would be able to reach either of them in that state." The broker finished. "Otherwise, they'll wear off in time, provided that no more doses are added."
"Wow, you really know a lot about this." The journalist remarked, flipping back to the page he was originally writing on. "Now, do you have any items from the prize machine that you actively dislike?"
"This is the last question, I assume." Syobai held back a sigh of relief. "I dislike the ball gag, artist's mannequin, cool glasses, memo pad, maid clothes, go stones, bondage clothes, porn magazine, stapler, spring toy, aloha t-shirt, candy ball, antique doll, old radio, ukulele, fountain pen, rose-scented shampoo, cup noodles, coconut juice, fashion magazine, letter set, potato chips, potpourri, high heels, headphones, cosmetics, tissue, a woman's fantasy, groucho glasses, and green drink."
Like a switch had been flipped, Nikei's personality lost its professionalism and he returned to his excited self. "Thank you for your time! I think I'm gonna need to sit down now." The journalist went over to the door to the guest house, but it wouldn't budge. "...The door's locked."
"Did you notice the sign above it, dumbass?" The broker deadpanned.
Nikei looked up from the doorknob, seeing a sign hung on the door stating that the guest house was closed for repairs. "Oh."
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