The Voice closes the window that was playing the security camera footage and pulls up a map of The City before continuing, "Those coded orders have just been acknowledged by the paramilitary group. I have back traced that acknowledgement to a private hangar at the airport."

The map scrolls to a district marked as Red Perch Cape and zooms in on the airport located there. The Voice scrolls past the the main terminal and stops at a series of hangars located behind a barbed wire fence.

The Voice says, "Red Perch Airport is split into two main facilities, one for the public at large and the other for VIPs and other individuals who privately own their own planes. The paramilitaries are based within hangar 69 at the VIP wing of the airport."

The laptop then displays aerial and what I assume to be satellite reconnaissance photos of the hangar in question. This data is supplemented by security camera footage probably stolen by The Voice from the site itself. Examining the photos and assembled footage, I see that the hangar has been turned into a small arsenal and living area housing not more than ten people. The pair of guards hanging around outside the hangar on duty strike me as familiar though. Men in suits, carrying swords. Just like at the warehouse.

"Those guys," I ask The Voice, "are they part of the same group I tangled with at the warehouse earlier?"

The Voice responds, "Yes. They refer to themselves as the Judecca Militia, named after some paramilitary unit active during the Iron Octopus Crisis. After you had escaped from the warehouse, the police started arresting all the guards they could get their hands on. The guards that managed to escape regrouped at this hangar owned by an offshore company."

I grunt in acknowledgement. The Hero's family originally arrived on earth during that Iron Octopus thing didn't they? Does this mean that the Hero's extended family are going to be the antagonists? Lets examine the immediate problem first though.

"Why did those guys gather at the hangar then? What's so special about that place?" I ask The Voice.

"As Red Perch Airport possesses its own international zone, City police by treaty cannot access the area beyond customs at either of these facilities. This includes the hangar area." The Voice rumbles, "This makes the private hangars an ideal spot for an armed group to camp out, waiting for the heat to die down. It also makes them an ideal target for a strike. Attack the hangar and wipe them out."

I take a look at the surveillance footage again as well as the photos of the airport, assessing the situation. No way. The Voice is being far too cavalier about this.

I shake my head, "Not possible. Not only is the hangar itself guarded by those Judecca guys, it is situated behind the airport's own security. I would need to either punch through the airport security or sneak past them before getting into spitting range of the hangar. After I take out the militia, airport security and the police would be right on top of me in either case. I don't fancy my chances. Not when there is an easier way."

The Voice rumbles with curiosity, "Indeed? Do tell Transmigrator."

I use the mouse to shift the map back to the Dreaming Spires District and stop at the location marked as the Heath.

"We already know that the militia is going to crash the Hero's duel of honor. I will deploy at the Heath and jump the militia as they are heading in. Simple." I say.

The Voice rasps disapprovingly, "If only. After the duel, the Hero and Mr Matsui will take the opportunity to bond. As this is vital to the process of cultivating Mr Matsui as an ally of the Hero, I do not want both of them to be disturbed before the event is complete. Ambushing the militia at the Heath is guaranteed to draw their attention and disrupt the bonding event. As we do not know if another such opportunity will arise again, we cannot take such a risk."

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You certainly have high standards Voice, I think to myself while frowning in consternation. Still, I am not yet out of ideas.

"Show me the route from the airport to the Heath." I instruct The Voice. The Voice obliges as the relevant roads between the two locations are highlighted in red. So, multiple possible routes, but all of them require the militia to drive along a particular stretch of highway. A plan forms in my mind, but it would depend on whether The Voice can supply me with the needed kit.

"Can you track the progress of the militia once they begin their journey to the Heath?" I query The Voice while clicking idly on that stretch of highway.

"Of course." The Voice's responds patronizingly.

I pull up the laptop's search engine and enter the description of the kit I need asking, "Can you spawn me that, in the time available to us?"

The Voice considers for a moment before laughing, "I see. Most certainly. I am bringing the cab to pick you up now. Let us get you outfitted right away."

....

The cab drops me off at an abandoned store on one of the side streets in the Dreaming Spires District. The store looks like it had been left abandoned for some time with its papered up windows and the fine layer of dust coating the doorknob of the entrance. I hear the telltale click of the door unlocking and step inside without delay.

"Another one of your places of power?" I ask The Voice.

The Voice replies, "Yes. I maintain several throughout The City. I have spawned the equipment you have requested within. Have a look."

I cover my mouth and nose as my footsteps stir up the dust on the floor as I smile to myself. At the center of the bare room sits a large bike painted in the colors and insignia of the Ordinary Police. And lying neatly by the bike's front wheel is the other bit of kit that I had requested. The uniform and gear of an ORPO highway patrolman.

I take a moment to inspect the bike and ask, "So with this I would be indistinguishable from an actual cop?" My hand strokes the smooth curves of the machine appreciatively.

The Voice says, "Yes. All this equipment is no different from the real thing. Never mind the militia, an actual ORPO officer would not be able to tell the difference."

I nod and begin donning the white ORPO uniform laid out on the floor. I then proceed snap on the stab vest and wear the high visibility police jacket over it. White gloves go over my hands. I finish by switching my shoes for the hard leather boots that go with the uniform. I can't check my appearance, but everything feels like a perfect fit.

Next, I begin loading the equipment belt with the other gear that The Voice had prepared for me. Handcuffs, radio, retractable baton traced with odd engravings and a Shockmaster brand stun gun. No actual firearms. How odd.

"Why no actual guns?" I ask The Voice as I load the two shot stun gun with prongs and fiddle with the integrated laser pointer. If ORPO can afford such a fancy stun gun, surely they can provide actual firearms to their officers.

"Politics." The Voice explains, "There have been worries regarding ORPO's professionalism and all lethal weapons have been taken away from their arsenal. At any rate, guns are not particularly effective against the spiritually trained. Bullets do not carry enough magic to quickly break defensive spells."

"So guns are useless then?" I ask. Figures given the setting of this world.

"No. Guns can kill as long as you shoot someone enough times with it. You just can kill someone a lot faster with a magic sword than with a gun." The Voice explains.

"And this baton? Its magical?" I ask, examining the tracing that had been carved into the baton.

The Voice affirms, "Yes. An enchantment that helps to stun your opponents. The baton also carries its own magical power source in its shaft that activates the enchantment on impact. So do not go around slapping the baton in the palm of your hand. It would be most embarrassing."

I retract the baton and holster it in the belt. "Why is it set up that way though? Sounds dangerous to the user."

"Most ORPO officers are mundane humans. They do not have the spirituality to activate magical weapons. The standard issue baton was designed in a way to allow a complete mundane to use it effectively." The Voice rasps.

"How much time do we have left before the militia begins their journey from the airport?" I query.

The Voice rumbles, "Around an hour. I have considered the plan you presented to me during the cab ride. I have no objections to it. However I wish to spend the remaining time left refining the plan with you. Now start from the top."