(Y/n) and Misha were waiting at the location they'd specified for drop off if Espio were to agree, leaning against a black vehicle. Both had sunglasses on, and both were drinking gas station issued slurpees. Espio exchanged a glance with Vector, who lifted an eyebrow as if to say, "These are your assassins?"
"So glad you could make it," (Y/n) said, pushing her sunglasses onto her forehead to grin at Espio. She nodded to Vector and Charmy, the bee seemingly holding a stationary frown on his features. "Don't worry, little Charmy Bee. If Espio's reputation is anything to go by, he'll be back before you know it."
"We're Chaotix," Charmy muttered almost inaudibly, crossing his arms indignantly. Espio reached out and tugged on one of the bee's little fingers, smiling encouragingly when Charmy turned his attention to him.
"We best get going," Misha said, swirling his straw in his cup. "We've already lost enough time."
"He's right," (Y/n) agreed, lifting her own straw to her mouth. She met Charmy's gaze and held out the cup. He hesitated, then grudgingly snatched it away from her. He hastily wiped the straw before sticking it in his mouth, glaring at the (a/t) the whole time.
"Anyway," she said, flicking her sunglasses back onto her nose. "Say your goodbyes, and let's get going. Misha, I'm driving."
As the pair of assassins rounded the car to sort out jobs, Espio turned to face Vector. The crocodile heaved a sigh.
"Just take care of yourself," he said. "And bring back that killer." Espio gave him a wry smile.
"Good luck with Charmy."
"Enough said. Knock 'em dead." Espio gave a nod, accepted a tight embrace around the neck from Charmy, then flung open the door to the car as (Y/n) stuck her elbow out the window, chewing a piece of gum.
"We'll bring him back in one piece!" she called as she reversed out of the spot, lifting two fingers in a salute before taking off down the road at a speed that Espio assumed was less than legal.
"Here's the file," Misha said, passing said object back to Espio. The chameleon flipped through it, sighing at the vague information. No wonder they'd needed a detective.
"No gender, species, association?" he asked, giving it another cursory glance. "It sounds like we're chasing a ghost."
"Maybe," (Y/n) said, snapping her gum. "That's why our first stop is going to be the Criminal Underground." Espio met her gaze in the rearview mirror. "Ever heard of it?"
"Yes. While they may be lawless, they believe in honor among thieves. What makes you think you'll get any information out of them?"
"Honor among thieves is only as good as the reward being offered." Espio didn't respond, leaning back in his seat. Misha fiddled with a device in the front, leaning over to mutter something in (Y/n)'s ear. "Ah, great." She glanced at Espio through the rearview mirror again. "You're good with going Underground, right?"
"Yes."
"You sure, softie?" He lifted a brow, unimpressed. She snapped her gum again and shrugged. "Cool. To the Criminal Underground we go."
~
The Criminal Underground was, in fact, actually underground. They had to drop off the car at a shabby parking garage before getting in an elevator disguised in an employees only section of a rundown fast-food restaurant. The ride lasted far too long for Espio's taste, the rusted box rattling the entire way down.
The elevator hit the bottom with a crash that forced the trio to brace themselves against the wall. The door slid open, revealing a hallway lined with purple lanterns, bass pulsing through the walls. (Y/n) strolled out of the elevator, hands in her pockets. Misha adjusted the strap of the harness holding his sniper rifle before resting one hand on the pistol at his hip and following the (a/t). Espio tailed them both.
At the end of the hall, a single door stood, in better shape than anything he'd seen so far. A keypad blinked at them from the right of the door; (Y/n) shuffled in front of it, quickly entering a code. What sounded like a series of locks clicked within the door before it swung open, revealing a bridge over a chasm. Beyond the bridge - lights. While Espio had never been to the Criminal Underground, from what he'd heard, he'd expected some dark, decrepit city. Not the world that awaited him on the other side of the bridge.
"Welcome to the Underground," (Y/n) said with a grin, turning around to face Espio as they reached the stairs on the other side of the bridge. "Not quite what you expected, I take it."
"No," the chameleon admitted. He peered over the railing lining the drop to the city. Though it was underground, it was lit up by blue, green, and purple lights, strobe lights flashing through the air. The buildings were not wealthy by any means, but they were sturdy and extravagant. The streets were busy.
"Well, if it's impressive from up here, just wait until you get down there," she said, reaching over to nudge him before moving over to a steep staircase that led down to the arch leading into the city, the only apparent way into the Criminal Underground.
The trio passed through the arch, Espio craning his neck upwards to view the buildings as they entered the market.
"Where did all this come from?" he asked, voice hushed.
"Outcasts looking for a home," (Y/n) said, clasping her hands behind her head. "They built this place from the ground up with whatever they could find, and those who don't fit in with the higher society would find them, and here we are!" Espio glanced at Misha, but the bobcat's gaze was fixed on the road ahead.
"What are we looking for?" he asked after a moment.
"Who," the (a/t) corrected. "The Mobian we're looking for deals in guns and death. He's known for training and selling some of the deadliest assassins in the East." She glanced back at Espio. "If someone was going to get past security and plant a poison without anyone knowing until it was too late, this guy will most likely at least know something."
"Trains assassins?" Espio said, glancing between her and Misha. The bobcat finally looked at him, amber eyes sweeping the chameleon from head to toe. He bristled. "How would two detectives like you know where to find such a Mobian?"
"We've researched possible leads on how to catch this guy. We traced possible suspects back to this guy. Of course, nothing's been concrete, which is why we contacted you." She winked at him. "If anyone could track him down and squeeze the info out of him, it's you."
"If you expect me to torture him, you may be sorely disappointed," he said.
"No, you're the clever type. You'll pick up whatever slips."
They continued walking in silence, (Y/n) spitting her gum into a garbage can before waving to her companions. They stopped at a particularly bright building, Mobians dressed in strange clothing walking in and out of the building. Espio watched them carefully, looking back to the doors as the (a/t) pulled one open.
"Guests first," she said, nodding to Espio. He narrowed his gaze at her but stepped through, looking around the room.
It looked like a vintage fortune telling shop, but every Mobian that looked like they belonged inside was wearing a mask that concealed their features. They were seated among pillows and tassels and curtains, speaking with clients or reading one's palm.
"So you were trained by a fortune teller?" Espio said, turning to (Y/n).
"Me?" she laughed. He stared at her and for the first time, she looked mildly uncomfortable. But she shook it off quickly. "Well, I have always wanted to learn the art of reading someone's palm. C'mere." He stiffened when she suddenly grabbed his hand, her fingers moving expertly over his palm, pressing through the fabric of his glove. He jerked his hand away, curling them both into fists. (Y/n) smiled hesitantly.
