In the humid, dimly lit locker room, Johnny dropped the leather pouch containing 10,000 Gil onto the wooden bench.
It landed with a heavy thud. But he knew—that wasn't the real prize. The real prize was reputation. And reputation was a double-edged sword.
As he was undoing the chain clasp on his chest to rest his aching shoulder, the locker room door swung open without a knock.
It wasn't a thug looking for payback. It wasn't a fan seeking an autograph.
Reno stood leaning against the doorframe, his uniform shirt sloppily unbuttoned, a metal electro-mag baton spinning lazily on his index finger.
However, Johnny's attention was instantly drawn to the figure beside Reno.
A bald man—tall, broad, and dark-skinned—wearing sunglasses despite the gloom. He stood rigid, silent as a concrete wall, arms crossed over his chest. His aura was far more dangerous than Tank's.
Rude. This was the first time Johnny had seen him.
"Nice show, Rookie," Reno said, smirking lazily. "Very... entertaining."
Johnny's hand reflexively drifted toward the hilt of the Dragon Slayer.
"Easy," Reno raised his left hand, while his right hand kept spinning the baton. "Not here for a fight. This is business. We don't break the bones of potential assets."
A black business card with a gold Shinra logo was flicked into the air.
Johnny caught it with two fingers. The movement was lightning fast.
Reno whistled softly. "Great reflexes. If you're bored of playing in the Slum mud and want real money... Public Security Division—specifically the Turks—always needs a fierce watchdog."
"I'm nobody's dog," Johnny replied flatly, tossing the card back onto the table.
Reno laughed crisply. "That's what everyone says at first. But everyone has a price, right?"
Reno glanced at the man beside him. "The quiet one is Rude. My partner. He's a fan of your 'crash first, ask questions later' fighting style."
Rude didn't smile. He simply gave a curt nod. His sunglasses reflected Johnny's silhouette.
"Your fighting is efficient," Rude's voice was heavy and low, like grinding stones. "Your identity is safe thanks to that mask. Shinra doesn't care who is behind the mask, as long as he is useful."
Johnny remained silent, wary.
"However," Rude continued, taking one step forward. The air pressure in the room seemed to drop. "Your companion entity... is a problem."
Johnny tensed. The muscles in his neck hardened. "You mean the Chocobo?"
"No. Chocobo and Moogle are Summon Materia. That's standard magic," Rude cut in. He pointed his chin at Johnny's pants pocket. "I'm talking about the small one. The one with wings. The one that talks without being summoned by an incantation. Even if you tried to camouflage it within that 'three names' call earlier."
Johnny's heart hammered against his ribs.
"A Fairy," Rude said calmly, as if reading a weather report. "An entity practically non-existent in the modern era. In Shinra's biological archives, pure elemental creatures like that went extinct hundreds of years ago due to Mako pollution."
Rude lowered his arms, staring sharply at Johnny (though his eyes were hidden by glasses).
"The only historical records that mention physical interaction with 'Nature Spirits' or 'Fairies' without a medium... are records regarding the Cetra."
Johnny gripped his sword hilt tighter. Cold sweat trickled down his back.
Reno smirked, but this time his eyes were serious. There was no humor there.
"You get it, right, Rookie? Moogles are still known to the public as mascots. Ifrit? Shiva? They can be stuffed into glass Materia orbs. But a fairy that is conscious and speaks? If that appears... it means the Planet is 'talking' to you."
Rude added, "I already checked your eyes from the big screen footage. Your eyes don't glow green. So you aren't a Cetra."
A suffocating silence filled the room.
"The only Cetra capable of attracting such an entity lives in Sector 5," Rude continued meaningfully. "Aerith Gainsborough. And now... you are under our surveillance."
Johnny almost drew his sword.
Reno, sensing the sharp Killing Intent radiating from Johnny, immediately intervened.
"Woah, woah. Relax. Put the fangs away," Reno waved his hands dismissively. "We aren't on a capture mission today. We're just... observing talent."
Reno straightened up from the doorframe, his gaze becoming more serious.
"Listen, Johnny. I've written a report on you to Tseng, Turks second in command. However..." Reno looked into the eyes behind the iron mask. "I can negotiate with him so that you aren't arrested and handed over to Hojo."
Hearing that name, Johnny's rage detonated. He gripped the Dragon Slayer so hard the leather wrapping creaked.
"I will mince that man," Johnny growled, his voice low and dripping with menace. He remembers what Hojo did to Aerith in his past vision through the Lifestream.
"Easy, pal. That's why I gave you the card," Reno interrupted quickly. "So you can help us. Only for problems in the Slums, like killing high-level monsters that are a nuisance. In exchange, I'll cover this up from the Science Division."
Johnny loosened his grip slightly, though his eyes remained wary.
"Why would you cover it up?" Johnny asked suspiciously.
"Because I like your style," Reno answered casually. "And because I have a feeling... one day we're going to need your help with more than just reports. Consider it a favor you owe me."
Rude adjusted his sunglasses. "Be careful, Black Wolf. Don't let your fairy be seen by Professor Hojo. Or you'll end up in a laboratory tube right alongside it."
"See you around, Johnny," Reno said as he turned, waving a hand without looking back. "My gut tells me we'll be meeting often."
They left. The door closed.
Johnny stood frozen. His breath hitched.
He stared at the Shinra card on the table. He felt an urge to crush it into dust—then let out a long, rough sigh.
"Dammit... I'm an idiot," Johnny cursed. "I've turned myself into a walking radar for them."
He immediately reached into his pocket. Puck flew out, his face confused seeing his master look so panicked.
"Puck," Johnny called out seriously.
"Yeah, Boss? Why the long face? Was the bald guy scary?" Puck asked innocently.
"Answer me honestly," Johnny stared at the little fairy. "In my old world, fairies like you were everywhere. In forests, in caves... but here... in Midgar..."
"Is your kind rare?"
Puck fell silent. His cheerful expression dimmed. He sat on Johnny's index finger.
"Not just rare, Boss," Puck answered softly. "Almost extinct. The air here... the Mako... it feels like poison to us. Most nature spirits are already dead or have returned to the Lifestream or go to another world."
Puck hugged his own knees.
"Long ago, my great-grandfather said the Planet was full of us. But now, we can only survive in 'clean' places. Or..."
"Or what?" Johnny pressed.
"Or near people who have 'Ancient Blood'," Puck continued. "Those who can hear the Planet. They act like magnets for us. Like Princess Aerith."
Johnny closed his eyes. His hand clenched into a fist, striking his own thigh.
"Idiot," Johnny cursed himself inwardly. "I thought Puck was just a normal fairy. Like the Moogles or the Slum Monsters. It turns out his mere existence is a giant neon sign pointing straight at Aerith. 'Hey! Look! There's a Cetra nearby who can summon fairies!'"
"I was wrong, Puck," Johnny mumbled regretfully. "I got too carried away showing off power earlier. I endangered Aerith. I endangered you, too. I thought you could be open like back when we traveled through the Kingdom of Midland and Elfhelm."
"Boss..." Puck looked at him sadly.
Johnny opened his eyes. His gaze was sharp again.
"From now on, you are forbidden to come out in front of people, and you must use your invisibility dust. Understood? Puck."
"Yes, Boss! I'll be a ninja fairy!" Puck promised.
Johnny picked up Reno's card, then tucked it into his deepest pocket. "Dammit, I messed up."