>     Mr. Habishi stood in the rain, his umbrella creating a circle 
>of dryness for him to stand in.  A single light pierced the night sky. 
>Mr. Habishi watched as the light came closer.  The motorcycle 
>screeched to a stop.  The man on it wore a black leather jacket and 
>blue jeans tucked into knee high black boots.  A brown leather glove, 
>tucked into the sleeve of his jacket covered his right hand.  On his 
>left hand he wore a black cloth glove with metal covering the back of 
>his hand and his first knuckles.  Immediately below the knuckles where 
>four gems, two yellow, one blue, and one green, with a small trench 
>running from the blue to the green.  A motorcycle helmet hid his face 
>from view.  He had a sword strapped to his side and an elaborate 
>dagger with a wolf's head carved into the hilt in his belt.
>     "Nice of you to come, Mr. Gabriev."
>     "Pleasure's all mine," he said in faulty Japanese with a rich
>English accent.
>     "Care to remove your helmet.  I like to look people in the eye 
>when I talk to them."
>     "Then let's take this inside.  I don't like the rain."
>     The two made their way inside, and Gordon removed his helmet.
>     "Now why did you want to see me?"
>     "Take a look at this man."  Mr. Habishi held out a picture to
>Gordon.  Gordon examined it and gave it back.
>     "Who's this."
>     "This man is a world renown terrorist.  He has blown up many of 
>our factories and labs.  His work has taken our research back years.
>Research that could benefit mankind."
>     "And you want me to take him out."
>     "You have mastered an art lost long ago.  It is my belief that 
>you may be one of the only people in this world who can possibly beat 
>him."
>     "And payment?  I'd love to help make the world a better place, 
>but I've got a busy agenda.  Let me see it."
>     "Take a look." he said gesturing towards a video display.  The 
>black and white screen showed a glass display case with a stone tablet 
>resting inside it.
>     "A manuscript of the Claire Bible." Gordon gasped.
>     "And it's yours if you can bring me proof of this man's death."
>     "This guys a goner.  What's his name?"
>     "That's the thing.  He has no name."
>     "What!  How the hell am I supposed to find him if I don't know 
>his name?"
>     "It's not like you'd find him in the yellow pages."
>     "Couldn't hurt to check.  This is going to make things harder.
>Where do I begin searching?"
>     "Try Nerima.  Reports saw him there last."
>     "Fine.  Don't worry, I'll deal Justice to that fiend.  Oh, and by
>the way.  Have you ever seen one of these?" Gordon held out a small
>orange ball with three stars on it.
>     "Hmm, I think I've seen one of those somewhere in Nerima.  Maybe
>you'll find it on your mission.  Why?  What is it?"
>     "Nothing." Gordon said, pocketing the Dragonball.  "Just an old
>relic.  There are seven of them, and I'd like to get them all."
>     "Well, I hope you find them, and I hope you find that man."
>     "Thanks.  Farewell."
>     Gordon slid his helmet back on before stepping out into the rain.
>He revved up his bike and zipped down the wet streets.
>     "Ivy?" The Ivysaur said from the harness on the back of the bike.
>     "I know, Zelgadis.  I've got a bad feeling about this too."