Meanwhile, across town in the glass and steel high-rise of the Shinomiya Group, two maintenance workers pushed a supply cart down a pristine hallway. The Shinomiya board of directors was convening an emergency meeting about some "pressing budget concerns," and the entire floor was a frenzy of suits and secretaries. It was the perfect cover for Aki Hayakawa and Denji to slip in unnoticed.
Aki, dressed in an ill-fitting gray janitor uniform, kept his expression stoic as he guided the cart. Inside lay an array of cleaning supplies – and concealed beneath them, a satchel of surveillance gadgets. Denji followed, grumbling under his breath about having to wear a fake mustache as part of his disguise. "This thing itches," he muttered, scratching at the prosthetic.
"Quiet," Aki hissed. "We're almost at the boardroom." Daisy's psychic illusion was doing its work – a mild suggestion in every passerby's mind that these two were nothing more than invisible help. Even so, Aki's heart thumped steadily. They had precious minutes to plant the last wave of bugs in Shinomiya's lair of corruption.
As they neared the double doors of the boardroom, a knot of Shinomiya executives swept past, deep in argument. Denji seized the moment: he "accidentally" tipped the supply cart, sending a mop and bucket clattering noisily across the marble floor. Water and suds spilled everywhere, and one executive let out an annoyed yelp as the mop whacked his shoe.
"What the—?!" the man barked.
"S-SUMIMASEN! So sorry!" Denji yelped in an exaggerated accent, bowing repeatedly. He shuffled in the puddle, making a comical mess of trying to gather the mop. A few of the directors stepped back, disgusted, but one middle-aged woman softened at the sight of the apparently hapless cleaner. "Just clean it up quickly," she said curtly, waving the others on. "We're late."
They skirted around the spill, paying no attention to Aki, who had used the distraction to slip right up to the boardroom doors. In one smooth motion, he slid a credit-card sized listening device under the door and affixed it to the interior wall with a magnetic click. Simultaneously, he pulled a tiny USB stick from his sleeve and inserted it into the electronic lock panel beside the door. A green light blinked – Kobeni's malware uploading to the building's security system. Now they would have camera access and recording control in this entire wing.
Denji continued his pantomime of clumsiness until the executives disappeared into a nearby conference room instead – likely relocating due to the "spill." As soon as the coast was clear, he instantly straightened, dropping the buffoon act. The two exchanged a quick triumphant nod. "Phase done," Aki whispered, retrieving the now-uploaded USB. Denji couldn't resist a toothy grin. "Too easy. I was hoping a guard would try to stop us… I've got pent-up energy to burn," he whispered back. Aki rolled his eyes and jerked his thumb for Denji to grab the cart and move. Before any security could round the corner, the two "janitors" had vanished down the service elevator. Up above, Shinomiya's directors began their meeting unaware that every word would be fed to the safehouse servers in real time.
Later that day, Power and Himeno executed another gambit in a far more elegant setting. Under the glittering chandeliers of the Imperial Hotel's banquet hall, a prestigious biotech conference cocktail hour was in full swing. Power – dressed in a slinky black evening gown that contrasted shockingly with her unruly red hair – lounged by the bar, swirling a glass of cranberry juice as if it were fine wine. Across the room, Dr. Schneider (the bespectacled Ringmaster scientist-turned-trafficker) was holding court with a group of gullible investors, boasting in accented Japanese about his latest "revolutionary research."
At precisely 8 PM, Himeno made her entrance. She was the picture of cosmopolitan allure: a slim navy blue dress suit, hair swept into a stylish chignon, a string of pearls at her neck. In one hand she carried a half-empty champagne flute, in the other, a briefcase. As she glided into Schneider's orbit, Power caught her eye and gave the subtlest nod. Everything was in place – time to spring the honeytrap.
Schneider noticed Himeno almost immediately; his gaze lingered on the confident woman who appeared to be just tipsy enough. Himeno staggered ever so slightly against a chair, and a concerned waiter moved to assist her. Schneider, emboldened by the possibility of easy prey, dismissed his audience with a flourish and stepped toward her. "Pardon me, are you alright?" he inquired in English, feigning gentlemanly concern while eyeing the brass-handled briefcase she carried.
Himeno blinked slowly, as if focusing through a haze. "Oh! Thank you, I'm fine," she replied in fluent English, slurring just a touch. "These hotel floors are so polished, aren't they?" She smiled disarmingly. Schneider chuckled, continuing in English, "Indeed. Allow me to introduce myself – Dr. Klaus Schneider."
Himeno's eyes lit up in feigned recognition. "Schneider? The biotech genius Schneider?" She giggled and leaned in conspiratorially. "What a lucky coincidence! I didn't think you'd actually be here."
The scientist's ego visibly inflated. "You flatter me. And you are…?"
Himeno placed a hand delicately on his forearm. "Sofia. Sofia Yamamoto." (A carefully crafted alias.) "I represent a private buyer from the Middle East. They told me to find the best in Pokémon bio-engineering," she purred. "Your name was top of the list."
Schneider's eyes gleamed with greed. He ushered her to a quieter corner, practically tripping over himself to pull out a chair for her. Power casually shifted position to keep them in view, one hand resting inside her clutch where a concealed recording device was monitoring everything.