We, America, were at war with both Canada and North Korea. Why Canada would want to ally themselves with Korea, I have no idea. But there they were, helping the Koreans invade our cities and bomb our monuments. Going outside was dangerous, since there were enemy soldiers everywhere. Of course, thanks to the bombing campaign that had completely devastated the country, staying inside was dangerous too.
Rather than take up arms as a soldier, I got a new job. I became a private investigator, making a killing finding missing people during the war. Most of the time, they were already dead, and all I had to do was bring their dog tags or I.D’s back to the families. It was simple work.
I would later meet with a large, portly Mongolian man. He would ask for my help in finding someone. Once he handed me a photograph of the person, I was taken aback. This wasn’t just some anonymous soldier or citizen I was looking for, it was my friend Michelle. I was suspicious of the Mongolian’s motive for wanting me to find her, but my own personal motivation to find her took priority. The only leads I had were that her globetrotting self had been last seen in both Canada and South Korea. Considering the circumstances, this was going to be dangerous. Since air travel had been completely shut down, I would have to travel by boat.
I began my search in Canada. Thankfully, there’s not much of a difference in appearance or accent between us and the Canadians. I was able to blend in like a local. My investigation turned up no sign of her in Canada. I did however, get a new lead: signs of paranormal activity in a Korean shrine. The story was that an ancient warlord had come back to life, and was the cause of the war with America (nevermind that the U.S wouldn’t have been a country back when these people were alive, but hey). The enemy combatants were merely brainwashed instruments of war. It was off to Korea with me.
During my boat ride there, I had somehow completely mastered the Korean language, which would be helpful where I was going. Once again nobody gave me any grief, since I would still pass myself off as a Canadian citizen and therefore, their new best buddy. Funny aside: all the language at this point was spoken in Korean, or at least my idea of Korean, with a translation provided to me via subtitles. Of course, because dreams never have coherent written text, they came out as URNSLFO HYFLSL. Luckily, I still managed to gather what was going on. I got directions to the shrine, which was not exactly what I was expecting. Despite my being in Korea, this was a Japanese Shinto temple I was in, and the warlord in question was Mitsuhide Akechi, the Benedict Arnold of Feudal Japan. I had overheard a conversation between Mitsuhide and a few of the priests: he had been resurrected to help Japan get its revenge on America for defeating them in World War II. Why the need for invading Korea and Canada? I have no idea. The other two points I managed to catch: Canada’s invasion of Washington D.C was about to be underway, and that “the girl” had been taken care of. That didn’t sound good.
They had prepared transport to America to oversee the invasion. I snuck on board and followed them back to the states. Once I had arrived on dry land, I received a call: Michelle had been found. A plucky, happy go luck adventurer/thief had made the most of the wartime confusion to break into various banks across the country. She had found Michelle locked inside a vault. That’s what the Shinto priests meant by “taking care of her.” They took care of her in the most half-assed way possible. The deal with Michelle was that she was the cliched “Chosen One” who was prophesied to take down Mitsuhide Akechi a second time. They also knew that I would be looking for her, so they sent a Mongolian to lead me on a wild goose chase while she was locked up under my nose.
Now that she was out, we were to assist a ghost hunting squad in taking out Mitsuhide. The process to do so was to lure him into a Buddhist temple, where the five of us would wait in the main lobby. The floor of the lobby had five symbols representing spirituality painted on the floor, and each of us were to sit on a certain symbol. This would apparently be enough to kill him. One of the quad members sat on a painting of an arrow. Another one on a painting of a crystal. The last one on a painting of a cross. Michelle sat on a painting of a star while I sat on a painting of a flame. Sure enough, upon Mitsuhide’s arrival, the five of us managed to kill him by simply sitting down.
The death of Mitsuhide Akechi was enough to turn the war in our favor. The Canadians were driven out almost immediately. After that, all that was left to do was clean up the mess.
Later, Michelle and I, along with some of her friends and family, watched the last episode of Cowboy Bebop together in a small, dark room. While I was crying like a little girl during Spike’s death scene, I apologized to Michelle for failing to find her.