Ryū Teinó groaned a bit, disoriented from the impact of his face against the asphalt.<b>"Ain't the first time I've hit the asphalt... but like that... damn, it hurt like hell,"</b>he muttered, wincing as he managed to weakly push himself to his elbows and knees before he felt the woman's gloved hand on his upper back near his the back of his neck, not seeing the shadowy liquid retreat into his skin almost as if it were an extension of himself, though his shirt and vest were pretty torn up and tattered.<b>"What ya should remember is that Runners... like me... don't trust anyone,"</b>he said dryly, looking up at the Maori woman.<b>"Besides, had you sent one of your own, those Yakuza goons may have well attacked before she ever made contact with me in which case <i>you</i> would have effectively screwed over her mission as, if that had occurred, I wouldn't have even shown up. I was scouting the area for a good hour and a half and saw her walk in,"</b>he said with a grimace.<br/><br/>What he didn't say was that the group he was part of, known as the Sky Runners, were unorthodox messengers known for delivering messages almost anywhere, even in the most difficult locations to reach, within the Kyoto-Tokyo area, and extremely skilled at what they did. He personally had been raised to scout everywhere thoroughly, noting entrances, exits, potential exits if things got ugly and violent, and noticing if known criminals and thugs entered a location on top of how to blend in to most anywhere. What he hadn't noticed was that the holes in the Hummer... if any of the agents had looked closely... were melted from underneath, as if whatever shadowy liquid he manipulated had grown superheated while lashing out. He was unaware, if Kimiko did look at his shirt and some of the skin beneath, that some evidence of minor burns from hot metal or  cigar sized burns along with a few old gunshot wounds that were healed from several months previous, were on his back and sides.