So if anyone remembers or at this point cares, a year and a half ago the last time I updated Turnabout Hero, I said there was going to be a surprise. This is that surprise, and no, it's probably not worth the wait, and yes, I will go back to updating Turnabout Hero once this is done at the not-really-regular but at least it's less than a year pace you've come to know and grudgingly accept.

First things first, what is this? This is a Turnabout Hero side-story starring Miles Edgeworth and Im Yong Soo. It's mostly a chance to see what Edgeworth has been up to the whole time and add a few more Hetalia characters that don't quite make the main story.

Why did this take a year and a half to finish? I originally wrote this several years ago, before the first Investigations game hit the US, which is why it doesn't have that 'just like the game script' feel the main story has. Now that I'm going back and editing everything, I figured I could tweak it so that this was more like the Investigations games. That got out of control really fast, and I tried squeezing in more AAI characters like Kay and Lang, which resulted in pushing the Hetalia characters to the side more and more, and it was, overall, a giant mess. So I scrapped the whole thing and started over with just editing what I had originally wrote, because if it ain't broken, why am I fixing it?

Anyway, enough excuses. There will be a second part to this, it will not take a year to post it. If we're lucky it'll be up by the end of the week and I can go back to the main story which is why you are all here in the first place.

Enjoy.

"Mr. Edgeworth, did you hear about that Jones case in DC? They still don't have a prosecutor yet, and if this keeps up he might walk. I mean, he doesn't have a defense attorney yet either, but still, you think you could do it?"

That was what they told me beforehand, and it was enough to intrigue me into checking out Jones' case.

In Washington the local prosecutors wanted me to meet with Jones to see if I actually thought he was guilty, despite all of the evidence pointing in that direction. His gun as the murder weapon, his jacket covered in the victim's blood, he was even arrested at the crime scene moments after it happened. It was an open and shut case if I ever saw one, and any personal feelings I would acquire after meeting him would not change those facts.

After meeting with Jones all I could think was, "This man is innocent," and that puzzled me. Why did I feel so strongly about that when all the evidence pointed to the contrary?

The local prosecutors, when asked about it, merely smirked in a condescending and childish, 'I know something you don't know,' manner, and said that if I really wanted to know, why didn't I just ask Alfred myself?

Thus started one of the most insane investigations I ever conducted.

March 16, 9:00 AM. Detention Center.

"Mr. Edgeworth?" Jones looked surprised when he was brought out to see me, "What are you doing here? You didn't decide to take my case after all, did you?"

"No, I called a good friend of mine in Germany who seemed most enthusiastic about seeing you tossed in jail. She should have landed about an hour ago."

"Really? You honest to God got me a prosecutor?" His smile could probably have powered the entire block if such things were possible, "Thank you!"

"It's the least I can do seeing as I'm… incapable of prosecuting you myself."

"You make it seem like believing I didn't do it is some kind of disease."

"For a prosecutor it may as well be."

He looked shocked, which quickly morphed into pity. "You must have had a rough childhood. I suppose that's 'cause you spent most of it in Germany, but still, it's not that bad a place."

(My childhood was fine considering, thank you very much! It might not have been the best, but, wait…)

"How did you know about that?"

"Hm? Oh, I just know stuff."

"Specifically pertaining to me?"

"You're a prosecutor. If you're going into that line of work, your life's going to be an open book."

"My personal files and records are not available to the public eye."

"Well, I'm not the public, am I?"

(It's probably just a fluke; me being raised by von Karma isn't a secret after all.) "What else do you know?"

"That's a loaded question," he laughed, "Everything I know could fill libraries."

"About me, I mean."

"You're name is Miles Edgeworth," he stated, "You're 5 foot 10, have grey eyes and black hair, and were born in 1992."

(Because you couldn't get most of that by just looking at me…)

"You became a prosecutor at 19, and maintained a perfect win record amidst accusations of forged evidence and fraud until you met up with Phoenix Wright in court in 2016."

(Better, but most of that is still common knowledge. You're going to have to do better than that.)

"Your father was Gregory Edgeworth, and he was a defense attorney, a really good defense attorney. He managed to put a mark on Manfred von Karma's record, but he was killed by him shortly after, in an elevator that was down due to an earthquake. Yani Yogi was arrested for the murder after some, um, spirit medium accused him or something –Arthur tried to explain it to me but, uh, whatever. Yani got off."

(Impressive, but most of that is still on the public record.)

"You developed a fear of earthquakes and elevators and retained the nightmare that you accidently shot your own father for quite some time, but Mr. Wright cleared all that up. Well, not the fear of earthquakes thing, but you can't really do much about phobias like that. You and Mr. Wright were childhood friends though, right? You helped him out in a class trial when he was accused of stealing your lunch money."

"You're getting boarder-line invasive right there." (I don't think most of that is even on my private record. How does he know?)

"Sorry," he shrugged, still smiling, "but you asked."

"Where did you get all that information? And why did you feel it necessary to do such an extensive background check on me? "

"Oh, I have my ways," he smirked and looked away, "I suppose you could say it's part of my nature, to know things about people, especially Americans."

(I suppose it's because he works for the government, although most of that shouldn't be privy to just any government employee.) "Mr. Jones what position do you hold in the government? The file I received from the prosecutor's office here was quite vague."

"Huh, well," he tapped the table in front of him; "I suppose you can say that's because my position in the government is quite vague."

"What branch do you work for? How high up are you? Can you at least answer that?"

"Yes and pretty damn high."

His attitude was starting to frustrate me, "The first question wasn't a yes or no question, and your second answer isn't a real answer."

"Sorry, I can't really tell you much more than that," he winked, "trade secret."

(If you think being purposefully vague will dissuade me from this line of questioning you are sorely mistaken.) "Now you've just gotten me curious."

"Do you want to figure it out?" his eyes lit up and his smile grew even brighter, "A lot of people have tried, and most of them have failed."

(Please, I'm Miles Edgeworth. I'll have this 'secret' figured out in a matter of hours. I just need to make a few calls.) "I'm not most people, Mr. Jones."

"Haha! I guess not. If you want to take a crack at it, I'm not going to stop you. I'd love to help you a bit, but I'm kind of stuck here."

"I doubt I'll need your help, but thanks for the offer."

"Aw, helping's the best part," he pouted, "At least let me give you a hint."

(Stop looking into his eyes! They're not that blue, stop caving to him!) "Fine, what's your hint?"

"Well, I've seen your file; it's only fair you see mine."

"I already have-"

"I mean my real file, not the one the prosecutors have for show. My file can be very revealing, if you know what I mean."

(I don't actually.) "Thank you for that, I suppose, but I'll be doing this investigation my way if you don't mind."

Jones shrugged, "Hey, do what you want. If you get stuck you know where to find me. Oh, and just a heads up, some of the others won't want you to succeed. There are a lot of them in the city right now and not all of them play fair, so watch your back."

"I'll keep that in mind, but I doubt I'll be coming back without an answer. Good day, Mr. Jones."

"See ya around, Edgey."

"Never call me that again."

(I have a new mystery to solve: Who exactly is Alfred F. Jones?)

March 16, 10:00 AM. Westin Arlington Gateway Hotel.

My contacts, as it turned out, proved to be next to useless. If I was going to investigate Jones I was better off talking to his colleagues. Unfortunately that was proving rather difficult.

"What do you mean I'm not allowed on the premises?"

"S-sorry for the inconvenience, Sir," the bellboy stuttered as he refused to budge from the entrance, "but the hotel is currently full for the time being."

"I'm not here for a room. I just need to talk to a few of the patrons and have a look around."

"Ah, you c-can't do that Sir. The hotel is-"

"It shouldn't matter if the hotel is full! I'm a prosecutor and I need to enter on official case related matters!"

"Sorry Sir, but our guests have, um, requested that only authorized personnel be allowed inside the hotel at this time. Trust me when I say it's for your own protection."

"I will decide if I need protection or not," I shoved past him and was about to enter the hotel just as three men, one short with long, black hair, one large with blond hair and cold eyes, and one tall with black hair and an obnoxious curl with what on first glance appeared to be a face inside walked out.

Upon noticing me, the three of them stopped, "Roderich?" the large one asked, confused.

"We just passed Roderich inside, aru," the short man reminded him, "Besides he's not wearing glasses. And he doesn't have a mole. And there's no Mariazell."

"So Roderich is in disguise and has transportation powers," the other man concluded.

"There's no such thing, aru!"

"Korea has already invented such a thing!" he laughed.

"So that's what happened…" the large man smiled.

"That's not what happened!" the short man snapped and glared at the bellboy, "Somebody failed to keep him off the premises is all."

"My name is Miles Edgeworth," I said, mostly so they would stop bickering about my identity, "and I'm looking into the Jones case."

"Edgeworth?" the short man looked at me curiously, "As in, Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth?"

"I thought the nice German lady was the prosecutor," the large one said.

"Nice?" both his companions questioned.

(Looks like Franziska's already here, but…) "Why was she allowed inside when I am not?"

"Mr. Wiellschmidt was accompanying her, and he said it was cool," the bellboy answered with shrug.

(Wiellschmidt? Surely he doesn't mean, G-Gilbert Wiellschmidt?! I never thought I'd hear his name again… I suppose can always start my investigation elsewhere, seeing as I can't get in the hotel.)

"I see. I'm sorry to have troubled you," just as I turned to leave, a large hand grabbed my shoulder.

"You said you were looking into Alfred's case, yes?" the large man asked, "Why is that?"

"That is not any of your concern," the grip tightened, painfully, as its owner still gave an icy smiled, and I struggled to escape it and leave.

"Ivan," the short man scolded, "now's not the time for that, aru," Ivan let go. I subtly rolled my shoulder as he continued, "Forgive our rudeness. My name is Wang Yao, the representative from China. This is Ivan Braginski from Russia, and-"

"I'm Im Yong Soo from South Korea!" he grabbed my hand and shook it with more enthusiasm than I was expecting, "Nice to meet you!"

"Pleasure," I retracted my hand, "now if you excuse me-"

"Hold it!" Yao darted out in front of me to stop my movements, "Now that the pleasantries are done, why are you looking into a case you're not prosecuting, Mr. Edgeworth?"

"I don't see how-"

"It is our business," Ivan smiled, and I felt shivers run down my spine, "trust us."

"I am simply looking into Mr. Jones's background. That is all."

"Is that so?"

"Yes, so unless you have the time to fill me in on certain matters-"

"Alfred is an American," Ivan answered, "he works for the government. He likes hamburgers and playing the hero, and sometimes it is fun to imagine him losing, defeated, and begging for his life…" a dark aura seemed to surround the area.

(Back…away…slowly…)

"Ivan!" Yao barked, "You're on good terms now, aru!"

"Right, sorry. Old habits die hard."

"Other than that, can you tell me anything about his background? Such as where did he come from or about his family?" (Or what exactly he does and why he's so important?)

"He's from America isn't he?" Yong Soo said, "And he has a brother, Matthew Williams, but he's from Canada."

"Where in America?"

"It's all America, does it really matter?" he waved before pulling out his phone and focusing on that instead.

"Well, was he born here in DC? Where did he go to school? Why is his brother Canadian?"

"He was born in, um," Ivan looked up, thinking, "I am not so familiar with your American cities…the one with the cheese stake, and the broken bell."

"Philadelphia?"

"Yes, that's the one."

"Does he still have family there?"

"His only family is, um, his brother." Yao said, "Wait, does Arthur still count?"

"Not anymore," Ivan said, "That's what the whole 'Independence' thing was about."

"Then just the bother."

"Where are their parents?"

"Who knows?" Ivan shrugged, "Does it really matter in the end?"

(I suppose not.) "Can you tell me what exactly it is Mr. Jones does for the government? He was pretty vague on the matter."

"You ask an awful lot of questions, Mr. Edgeworth. I'd be careful about where I direct them if I were you," Yao grabbed the Ivan's arm and started dragging him away, "We'd love to stay and chat, but we have an appointment to keep."

"But what about-"

"Maybe next time!" he shouted.

(Well that wasn't much help. Perhaps I should try talking to his brother?)

"Eh? Did Yao leave without me?" Yong Soo looked around, confused, as he put away his phone, "He's always playing hard to get like this," he sighed and turned to me, "If that's how he wants to be, I think I'll just help you out instead."

"I don't need help," I said as I tried to enter the hotel.

"Sorry Sir," the bellboy stopped me once more, "but I've told you, you can't enter the hotel at this time."

"And I've told you-"

"It's cool," Yong Soo but in, "he's with me."

"Oh, well if that's the case, then by all means," he finally stood aside to let us in.

"So, I'll be helping you," he decided once we were in the lobby, "You can call me Big Bro if you want."

"I will be doing no such thing. I thank you for your assistance getting into the hotel, but from here on out I'll be conducting this investigation solo."

"You're looking into Alfred right? He and I are actually pretty tight, for the most part. He helped me out a while ago, and I'm actually really good friends with his brother. Besides, the art of investigation originated in Korea, so it only makes sense that I become your partner!"

(There does seem to be some sort of conspiracy or cover up going on in this group. Perhaps having one of them on my side will be to my benefit, for now anyway.)

"Very well, you may assist me if you want."

"Awesome! We'll be just like a TV crime-fighting duo! But we need team name," he tapped his chin as he thought about it for a bit, "How about: ImWorth Investigation Squad?"

"What? No, we will not have a team name. Ever," I couldn't change the subject fast enough, "You said you knew Jones's brother; where is he?"

"Probably by the pool area," I walked off in the direction Yong Soo pointed as he followed in my wake, "We can call it IWIS for short!"

"We are not an official team; you are merely assisting me for this one case, which isn't even a real case. Therefore, we do not need a team name."

We arrived at the pool area to find two blond men and a polar bear lounging around near the deep end. At least, one was lounging. The one wearing glasses was sitting on the edge with his feet in the pool while the polar bear swam around.

(Th-that's a real polar bear! Is that legal?)

Both men ended whatever conversation they were having and looked up at us when we entered.

"You are Miles Edgeworth, the prosecutor, non?" the lounging man asked.

"Yes, I am. I'm looking for a Matthew Williams?"

"Oh, that's me," the other one said, "What do you want with me?"

"I need to ask you a few questions about your brother."

"UN INSTANT!" the Frenchman shouted, the echoes causing everyone, even the polar bear, to freeze, "I've already met the prosecutor for Alfred's case, and she is not you. What do you need to know about Alfred for?"

"To be honest, Mr.…?"

"Bonnefoy. Francis Bonnefoy, if you don't mind."

"Well, Mr. Bonnefoy, I will admit this is mostly for my own personal reasons. I find certain inconsistencies about Mr. Jones to be intriguing enough to look into, I suppose. I wish to find out more about him, and if what I find out turns out to be a benefit to the defense's case, I will be more than happy to share."

"How strange," Francis gave me smirk that made me slightly uncomfortable before leaning back in his chair, "I would assume, being a fellow prosecutor, you would be more concerned with helping Ms. Von Karma's case."

(…)

"I suppose," he continued, "Alfred is rather interesting. If you feel the need to look into the matter, then look away! I won't stop you, but I won't help you either."

"Very well," (I didn't ask for your help), "Matthew, I would like to ask you a few questions about your brother."

"Ah, well, sure," he got up from his spot by the pool, grabbed a towel, and walked over to one of the secluded tables, away from Francis and Yong Soo. Naturally, I followed.

"So, Mr. Williams, what can you tell me about your brother?"

"Well, that depends. What do you want to know?"

"For starters, what exactly does your brother do for the government? So far no one's been able to give me a clear answer."

"That's because it's a bit, complicated. What it is exactly we do, that is."

(You've got to be kidding me! The last thing I need from you is more vague answers!)

"Please stop glaring at me."

"Can you try to explain it? Or at least give me a title to work with?"

Matt twiddled his fingers instead. "When I say complicated, that's a nice way to say it's a bit, ah, classified."

(Of course it is. I get the sinking feeling that word is going to be popping up quite a lot over the course of this investigation.) "Your brother mentioned a file that I could find. Do you happen to know where it is?"

"He mentioned it?" I nodded and he glanced around the room as if to make sure no one was watching us, "I, may know where to locate it."

(Finally some progress.) "Where is it?"

"I can show you, I suppose," he hesitated, "Did Alfred really say it was okay?"

"Yes, he did." (Is all this secrecy really necessary?)

"Alright," he grabbed a towel as he stood up. "I've got to change, but meet me in the lobby and I'll take you there."

March 16, 10:30 AM. Pennsylvania Avenue.

Matthew took me to a location near the White House and had me wait in an alley around back while he went to talk to some of his contacts. It was a little unnerving and more than highly suspicious, to say the least.

(At least I managed to ditch that other one at the pool,)

"Hey, Miles!" Yong Soo shouted as he clapped me on the back, "I almost lost you there. You really should tell your partner when you're leaving, you know."

"We're not partners. I do not need to tell you anything because your services are not required."

"So cold, Miles, but how are you supposed to run an IWIS investigation without me?"

"Stop using that ridiculous name!"

"So," he said, ignoring my last statement, "Did Matt find the file yet?"

"He says its amongst the secure files in one of the files in one of the libraries," I tapped my fingers against my arm and glanced back at the White House, "He's going to get it now," and no sooner had I spoken, Matthew returned empty handed and shook his head, "Well, where is it?"

"They're doing a spontaneous random file move for some reason," he frowned and stared hard at the ground, contemplating something, "Alfred's file is part of that."

"You seem suspicious."

"Yeah," he looked back up at me, "that file doesn't move without Alfred's permission. Or at least, without someone with his level of security clearance, and not many people have that."

(It seems someone doesn't want me to find that file.) "Who has the power to move that?"

He bit his lip and looked away, "Well, all of us do."

"All of you? You mean everyone staying at the hotel right now?" (These mysterious people with their mysterious meeting keep getting more mysterious.)

"Yup!" Yong Soo responded, "We all have the same level of access, although Alfred's command should supersede everyone else's, this being America and him being an American and all that."

"That's true," Matthew nodded, "but honestly, anyone of us could have allowed them to move the file."

(I don't have time to worry out who's trying to sabotage me; all I can do for the moment is counter the saboteur's moves as best I can with the resources I have access to. If they become a real problem I can deal with it then, but right now…) "Where is the file being moved too?"

"It might still be on the truck, if you want to take a look in there."

I couldn't think of a better course of action, so Matthew led us to a large sixteen wheel truck, half full of files already.

(These could take days to sort through by hand.) "…You don't happen to know exactly which one it is, do you?"

"No," he sighed, "sorry."

"Well, where not going to get anywhere standing here staring at them. Let's split up and look for it," Yong Soo grinned before he jumped into the truck and started digging through the files, "With three sets of hands we should be able to find it."

"Wait, you could be making it worse!" Matthew and I followed his lead.

What came next were several long hours of digging through file after file in the dim light of the truck. Most of the files were outdated forms and tax papers dating back to the 1950s, occasionally one of us would find an important correspondence from an important person about an important event; however none of us were having any luck locating the file of an Alfred Jones. Just as we were considering picking up our search in another location, the back door of the truck was slammed shut.

"I didn't do it," Yong Soo said.

"You were the one closest to the door," I snapped. I was getting uncomfortable in the dark, confined space, "Who else could it be?"

"Maybe someone on the outside?" Matthew suggested from somewhere on my left.

"Yong Soo, did you see anyone?"

There was no response.

"Yong Soo!"

"Huh? Did you say something, Miles?"

"Did you see anyone before the door shut?" I barked.

"Uh, no, not really."

"Can you open the door?" Matt asked.

The sound of papers shuffling filled the quiet space, followed by grunts, creaks, and metal scraping against metal, but to no avail ,"No," he said at last, "it's sealed pretty tight."

"Great," I muttered. (This couldn't possible get any worse.)

Then the truck started moving.

"Maple!" Matt shouted as we tumbled to the ground. Yong Soo might have shouted something as well as he fell down, but I was beyond listening to anything at that point.

(It's not an earthquake) I could already feel my breath coming in gasps as I reached out for something to grab and came up with only papers, (we're on the East Coast, so it can't possibly be an earthquake. There's plenty of air)I started feeling cold and light headed and grabbed at something warm, (I'm just in the back of a truck that's moving. It's not the earth that's shaking. It's just the truck…)

Despite my best efforts, I don't remember much after that.

The truck must have come to a stop at some point, and the door was open.

"M-Mr. Edgeworth?!" I looked towards the bright light to see that Detective Gumshoe was the one that had opened the door. "What are you doing here? Are you alright?" he asked as he jumped on the truck.

(…)

"Mr. Edgeworth?" I felt a hand on my shoulder.

"D-Detective Gumshoe?"

"Are you okay, Mr. Edgeworth?"

I nodded, still shaken, but functional, "Yes, I'm alright."

"Okay, good," he let go of my shoulder, "Got a call from someone pretty high up to find this truck. You're lucky everyone else is busy with the Jones case, or you could be in some serious trouble," he laughed as he and Yong Soo got out of the truck.

"Mr. Edgeworth?" Matthew asked, voice barely above a whisper, "Do you mind letting go of my arm? You're starting to cut off the circulation and it's becoming hard to feel it."

I wasn't sure when I had grabbed onto him, but I immediately apologized and let go as I stood up to brush myself off. Matthew simply muttered his thanks and massaged his sore arm as we exited the truck.

March 16, 1:45 PM. Capitol Complex.

"You did what with Mr. Edgeworth?" Gumshoe asked. Yong Soo grinned and once again retold the epic tale of how we got stuck on a truck all day.

Matthew said he had to go back to the hotel, and I had no reason to doubt him on that. Before he left, he told me that a copy of his brother's file might have been in the House or Senate records for safe keeping, thus our current location.

Yong Soo had opted to recount, in detail, our expedition so far to Detective Gumshoe, who had decided to 'help' me as well.

"And that's the first case of the ImWorth Investigation Squad!"

"Mr. Edgeworth!" Gumshoe actually looked hurt, "If you needed an investigation partner, why didn't you just ask me?"

"I didn't know you were here," I replied, "and I don't need a partner. I don't want a partner. You," I pointed at Yong Soo, "can stop saying otherwise."

"Excuse me?" the three of us turned to see one of the clerks giving us a strange look. "Can I help you?" she asked in a tone that made it clear she didn't want to help us at all.

"Forgive us for intruding," I said, "I'm Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth and these are my, assistants. We are looking for the file of Alfred F. Jones. Do you happen to know where it is?"

"Al doesn't work here," she said bluntly, "and even if he did, his file isn't for the public eye, Mr. Prosecutor."

"Have I introduced my assistants? This is Detective Gumshoe, he works for the police department," the look she gave me told me that was getting me nowhere, "and this is Im Yong Soo, from South Korea."

"Hi," she still wasn't impressed.

"Yong Soo, don't you need to see Mr. Jones's file?"

"Right," he dug through his jeans pocket and pulled out identification of some kind, "Is it alright if I see Alfred's file? For official business, of course."

She looked at the card with interest before handing it back to him, "I'll see what I can do for you, Mr. Im Yong Soo," she said before walking away at a quick pace.

"See?" Yong Soo turned to face Gumshoe, "I told you me and Edgey could handle this."

"That's not fair," the Detective honest to God pouted, "I've helped Mr. Edgeworth out plenty of times on past cases! Isn't that right Mr. Edgeworth?"

"Yes, sure, why not?" This argument didn't really interest me. I was too busy pondering why Yong Soo was allowed such access when both Gumshoe and I, despite our professions in criminal justice, were denied.

It had to that "thing," that thing that made me believe Alfred's innocence no matter the facts. Whatever it was, Yong Soo had it too. Matthew must have as well. After all, he did get us access to those files without a fight. Could it be possible that everyone staying at that hotel, those 'special representatives,' all had it? That couldn't be right, as there was something about Alfred that that drew me in during our first meeting that I had yet to see in any of the others.

"I'm sorry Mr. Im Yong Soo," the clerk said upon returning, bringing me out of my thoughts, "but I wasn't able to locate Mr. Jones's file here."

"So, it is here?" I asked.

She glared at me. "It was here. It's supposed to be here, but it seems we've misplaced our copy."

"How often do you misplace important files?" Gumshoe asked, "I don't think you'd be able to get anything done like that."

"We don't misplace important files. Mr. Jones's file is not that important. We only store here just in case."

"In case of what?" I asked.

"Just in case," she repeated before turning back to Yong Soo, "if you need it that bad, you could always check with the Supreme Court records and see if it's still there."

"Okay, we'll try that next," he smiled at her, "Thanks for your help!"

She smiled and led us out of the building, where Yao was standing.

"Brother!" Yong Soo shouted as he lunged forward and hugged him.

"Yong Soo, so you've been with Mr. Edgeworth all day, aru?"

"Yeah! We've been investigating!"

"Fantastic. Have you had any luck with your 'investigations' so far, Mr. Edgeworth?"

"Not as much as I would like," I said.

"Well, I hope you have better luck locating Alfred's file, aru. I need to get going," his smile didn't quite reach his eyes as he disentangled himself from Yong Soo and left with a wave.

"Wait a minute," Gumshoe said, "How did he know we were looking for Jones's file?"

"I would like to know that as well," I pondered. The whole encounter gave me an uneasy feeling, "but it is of no real consequence at this time. We should keep going. Yong Soo, are you coming?"

"Huh? Yeah, I'm right behind you Edgey."

"Don't call me that."

March 16, 2:20 PM. Supreme Court Records Room.

"Um…no, I don't see it," the secretary Yong Soo found to escort us to the classified files section said after a while, "It seems that file has been moved…"

(You've got to be kidding me! All the copies of this thing have been moved? This cannot possibly be a coincidence…someone clearly doesn't want me to know something.)

"Ah, is that so…" Yong Soo sighed before slinging an arm around my shoulder, "what're we going to do now?"

"We can hit the streets!" Gumshoe suggested as he pushed Yong Soo away to sling his arm around me instead, "find some witnesses! Someone has to know something about these missing files, pal!"

"You don't know that someone stole the files!"

"Then what else to you think is going on?"

"Things get lost! No need to accuse anyone of anything!"

"All the files were lost? That's a mighty big coincidence."

"We have to find the missing files! Not waste time talking to people about things. This is why you'll never be a part of Edgey and mine's team."

"What was that?! Mr. Edgeworth and I have been investigating crimes together before you could even walk!"

"Psh, crime fighting originated in Korea. It only makes sense that I'm better at it then you."

"What was that, pal?!" Gumshoe had let me go by this point, so I decided to search more of the files in the room in case the secretary, who had left as soon as the shouting started, missed something. She hadn't, unfortunately.

"'This came from Korea,' 'that came from Korea,'" Gumshoe was still shouting, "So what?! You ain't Korea, so why bother name dropping pal?!"

"No, I'm South Korea! Get it right!"

"Yeah, well, if you're South Korea, I'm the good ol' US of A!"

"No you're not! He's in jail!"

"Enough!" I shouted, "This is getting ridiculous! If both of you feel the need to help me that's fine, but claiming to be personified countries isn't doing anyone any good!"

They both had the sense to look a bit sheepish, though Yong Soo seemed a bit worried for some reason, as if I was actually going to attack him.

"Sorry Mr. Edgeworth. I guess I got a little carried away?"

"It's fine, Detective. Just don't let it happen again."

"So," Yong Soo muttered, "What do we do now?"

(If only I knew…Alfred and Matthew both insist that the file is the key to solving this…thing about Alfred, but it's missing. Someone doesn't want me to find it, but is it just because they don't want me to find out about Alfred, or because there's something else in that file about them?)

"We know it's not here," I said, "so we no longer have a purpose here. Let's try someplace else."

They nodded and followed me outside where we ran into, of all the people in the city, Ivan.

"Oh, hello Miles, Yong Soo, strange man," he greeted with his child-like smile, "How are you?"

"Fine," it was then I noticed that he had a file in his hands, "What is that you're holding?"

"Oh this?" he held it up, and I could make out Alfred's picture clipped on the front, "This is none of your concern, Miles Edgeworth. Pay it no mind."

"I think I can decide if it is any of my concern, Mr. Ivan Braginski, if you don't mind."

"Oh, but I do mind. I mind very much, actually."

Yong Soo launched himself forward and tackled Ivan. They both fell to the ground, causing the file to go flying until it hit Gumshoe's head. In an impressive feat of dexterity that I assumed was beyond him, he managed to catch it. Before Ivan could get up, he opened the file and started reading.

"Name: Alfred Franklin Jones. Age: 19. Full name-" He was cut off when a wok hit him over the head, making him drop the file. It was caught in the very same wok by Yao.

"I thought you would burn this as soon as you got it, aru." He said to Ivan.

"I was going to," Ivan disentangled himself from Yong Soo and stood up, "But they got here faster than I thought they would."

"Is that so?" Yao placed the file in his wok, pulled out a match, and set it on fire.

"What are you doing?!" Gumshoe and I shouted.

"Destroying this. It shouldn't exist," he answered, "I don't know what exactly you are looking for, Mr. Edgeworth, but if you continue your investigations, Ivan and I will stop you at every turn, aru. Count on it." The two of them turned to walk away, but not before Yao stopped and looked over his shoulder.

"Are you coming?" he asked Yong Soo, who was still on the ground. Yong Soo shook his head and made no move to stand. Yao shook his head, turned on the spot, and left with Ivan without another glance back.

"They can't just do that!" Gumshoe shouted in indignation, "I'll handle this pal, don't worry. I'll head back to the precinct right now and find something to get them for, count on it!" With that, he ran off as well.

"Sorry, Edgey," Yong Soo said, so soft I almost didn't hear it. He was still on the ground, hadn't moved since Yao showed up, "I, guess I'm not a very good investigation partner after all."

"You tried to get the file for us. I don't blame you for losing it."

He shook his head, "No, I knew Yao and Ivan were the ones trying to stop us. I saw Yao lock us in the truck and I know they don't want you to find out anything, but I didn't tell you," he looked away, "I'm sorry."

"So, you know what it is I'm trying to find out?" A nod, "Can you tell me? It would save me a lot of time," a head shake this time, "Why not?"

"Because, you're not mine."

(And what on earth is that supposed to mean.) "Explain what you mean."

"You're American, not Korean, and Alfred, well, he likes his games. I can't interfere with that until you find out for yourself. That's why I wanted to help you, but…"

"Don't worry about it. We can still find it," he looked up at that and I offered him a hand up, "I still have contacts I can call upon tonight. We'll locate this file and solve this mystery. No matter how much Yao or Ivan want to stop us, we'll find the truth."

Yong Soo perked up at that and grabbed my hand. "Yeah, you're right! And I can help right?"

"If you want to."

(It seems I may have stumbled across something bigger then I had originally set out to.)

To Be Continued…