Corruption in Costa Del Sol

[Hiro Protagonist]

Continued From Here

He laid on the bed, groaning quietly to himself as the ship pitched and rolled with the waves. The doctor had patched up the worst of his wounds, and being an EPD Prime agent had given him enough status to be allowed into the frigate's limited bacta tanks, which had healed up the worst of his injuries. Once he was out of immediate danger of dying though, they'd given him a cabin and some pills for the pain, leaving him to twitch in extended half-consciousness as Omnilium re-knit his body. He drifted in and out, suffering from dark, indistinct dreams and visions, voiding the contents of his stomach several times over the journey. Eventually, he had healed enough to be able to move around gingerly, although his arm still ached and he had tinnitus that he couldn't quite shake off yet. 

As the days passed, he had a routine of gentle stretching exercises, walks on the deck until his dizzy spells threatened to overwhelm him, sleep, and eating the horrible food that passed for ship rations on an Imperial Frigate. He spent a lot of time thinking too. This was the worst he'd ever been beaten. Dante's Abyss had been rough, but he'd never truly been close to actual death. Karl had patched him up rather quickly, but then again there was that fight with Carmelita. He may have felt like he was about to die, but he probably hadn't even been close. This hurt far more, though. It wasn't just his body that was damaged. His pride had taken a severe hit too. Beaten by an old man, and then forced to go on vacation. The hell was he going to do? Sit around the apartment eating junk food and coding? No. No, he'd done more than his fair share of that in his own world. He wasn't a slacker anymore. He had power, and purpose.

It had been almost a week since he'd left Cinnabar, and he could see the familiar sight of Costa del Sol's buildings and huts on the horizon. The journey back had taken more time than the journey there, since the Imperial Frigate made several stops at island outposts along the way to "show the colors" as it were, and remind the inhabitants who was the regional power around here. Fucking Cinnabar. In some manner, the hacker was glad he was banned from the island. Now he'd never have reason to go back. Fucking Pokemon. If he never had to see another one of thoe goofy creatures again it would be too soon.

The ship docked, Hiro watching from the top deck. Leaning against a railing, he finished smoking the last of the cigars he'd bought on his way to hunt the Sage, and threw the smoldering butt over the edge. He pulled his collar up around his chin, scabs and scars still slowly healing. He'd managed to summon up enough power to recreate his signature kimono trenchcoat, and to repair his glasses and reforge his tanto. He was feeling more like his usual self already, although moving at more than a brisk walk still made his joints ache and his head ring, the blood pounding in his ears. He made his way down through the bowels of the ship and disembarked off the gangplank, heading towards the heart of the ocean-side city once more.