[POS Industries]

You've got to know when to hold 'em...

After looking over this new magically manifested pile of cash and, satisfied with its authenticity, returning it to the briefcase, POS looked over the contract that Raiden, still wearing that calm smirk, had slid over to him, having to hold it just right so that the sunlight coming through the giant window wouldn't reflect too much off the paper, an odd thing to have to do at three in the morning. Yes, this contract was air-tight, no loopholes to be found. Clearly professional work. He had to silently scoff at the words "Lifetime Agreement", of course. What? Nothing in here concerning my immortal soul?

"I trust you find everything to be in order?"

Pedro looked back up at the thunder god. It was all lies. He knew that as soon as Raiden started spouting off about subtle marketing techniques and achieving eutopia. Gods don't deal in corporations. That's the devil's playground.

"Hmm? Oh, yes, yes," POS nodded, "It's fine. Just have to make sure that there isn't any fine print on here. Standard stuff, you know." Fine print didn't matter. The contract was null and void even before he signed it. "Electric Takeover, Inc." was a front if he ever saw one, a wool that Raiden thought he could throw over the eyes of the capitalist swine to get his dirty work done for him. Whatever the god was up to, POS was sure that his expertise in any field was unnecessary, and while the silent killing of a slumbering girl in a sailor fuku was one thing, the further "dirty work" that Raiden had mentioned regarding the others was obviously out of his league as well not being anything more than a full-powered Raiden could handle with Arhra and her suit out of the way.

No, as soon as Arhra was dead, Pedro knew that Raiden had every intention of killing him, too.

Know when to fold 'em...

"As much as I was hoping that I could find out a little more about your operation before signing on the dotted line," POS sighed, "I suppose it wouldn't be wise to tip your hand too much. Corporate espionage abounds, of course." He laughed internally at the thought of Raiden just letting him walk out alive to go tell other companies about this.

Raiden nodded silently in agreement, that damn smirk still on his face. Bloody puppet, POS thought to himself, still wearing his own damn smirk, The guy goes through all the trouble of making this place, warping reality, boldly breaking the laws of physics, playing these games, and sends a fucking marionette to deal with me. First rule of corporate politics is to grease the palms yourself. Sending a representative is an insult.

"In that case," he said cheerfully, the smirk growing into a full maniacal grin, "the only way I'm ever going to find out the secrets of your grand entrepreneurship is to join the cause." He turned to face the doorway, looking over the still-sleeping Arhra. "So, how should I go about it, precisely? Strangulation? Too slow. Might wake up first, and I've seen what that girl can do. Slit her throat? Hmm, so messy. I just sto--er, bought these clothes and I'd hate to get caught in the spray once I hit her jugular. Hell, it's a party, right? Maybe I could have some fun first..."

No, wait, he thought, trying to keep from suddering visably, That's way too much, even for me. As abhorrently evil as Pedro O'Sullivan probably was, he had always had a difficult time acting the part, trying to lay it on as thick as possible. There were some things that he just couldn't stomach, and even considering.... that... was one of them. It's definately time to start wrapping this up, he thought to himself, reaching into his coat, still turned away from Raiden.

Know when to walk away...

"...or maybe," he said, swiftly pivoting around to face Raiden's general direction, "I could just use this gun!" Bringing his 180 to a stop, POS took very much less than careful aim at his target and fired fourteen very loud gunshots from the SIG 226 X-Five that he had "borrowed" during his last trip downtown, emptying the clip into the thunder god's head, neck, torso, desk, chair, and the window behind him.

And then Pedro noticed something odd about the window. While warm sunlight poured in through the glass, the holes made and the cracks growing from them were dark. Noticing the puppet's reduced regeneration powers were taking effect, albeit slowly, POS had no desire to spend any time analysing the situation and hurled the spent handgun at the cracking glass, shattering the window and revealing a most beautiful sight.

The interior of the Mashirosen. Basement Level 1, Section 14-Gamma, more specifically.

Pedro wasted no time. He grabbed the briefcase, leaped forward onto the desk, and called out to Arhra, hoping that she wasn't a sound sleeper, "Yo, Usagi-chan! Wakey wakey, eggs and bakey!!" And with that, he slammed the case full of Raiden's blood money into the regenerating head of the god puppet and leaped out the window, just as the wall of the office behind him exploded in a wall of flame.

"I'm up! I'm up! Where's my bacon?" Arhra yelled over the roar of the explosion, running behind the now dissipating Ifrit.

The explosion propelling his jump, POS had just enough time to chuckle at the idea of "Pedro O'Sullivan: Action Hero" before landing badly on the concrete floor of the Mashirosen basement and twisting his ankle. "Son of a..."

He kept limping away as fast as he could, Arhra catching up to him as the flaming debris of Raiden's faux office collpased on top of the nearly fully regenerated puppet.

...and know when to run.