The Servant could tell Gundham wasn't a big fan of what was going on.
For once, Komaeda was in a situation he had control over. The goal was easy enough - get Gundham and himself onto that ship.
He could only frown as he watched the Breeder's ongoing struggle, but the sidelines were preferable to the spotlight. Besides, what use was a servant in the spotlight?
Gundham was surrounded gradually by enforcers wielding guns, but didn't flinch once.
Someone with a checklist stood in front of him, though kept a longer distance than was likely expected.
The Servant smiled. He recognized fear when he saw it. They were all scared of Gundham. So much that the word 'despair' can do... The same was true - if not truer - of hope. He was proud of that.
"Gundham Tanaka?" The person asked him.
The Breeder scoffed lightly in response. "Is that not apparent?" He sassed lightly. "Do you fail to recognize the ruler of the Tanaka Empire as he is presented to you in title?"
The other clearly did not appreciate the sass, but, once again, their cowardice was all-too-obvious. He turned down to his paper, eyes never quite leaving the remnant, and scrawling down his name.
The Servant exhaled a light, bemused laugh. There were Future Foundation members he admired. These? They were talentless, of course. And that aroused his curiosity more than the talented. Silently, he rooted for this poor, scared man.
He'd already been thoroughly disappointed by the talented. He could cling to the hope of Gundham for as long as he could, but it was the boring, talentless people that seemed to make the most of a difference.
Makoto Naegi… Komaru Naegi… people like that!
So how would his two fighters square off?
"Says here you were once the Ultimate Breeder... Remnant of Despair... heavy casualties..." The man skimmed the page. "Most of your animals put down. Do you still have the twelve hamsters with you?"
Gundham's eye twitched at the casual mentioning of his army's slaughter. Upon his exhale was an angered, despairing chuckle. "Mm?"
Ah. He's upset. Nagito read despair easily. Did they even have to test him anymore? Really upset.
Gundham growled, quickly shaking the forming smile from his expression. "...Are you referring to the Zodiac Generals?"
"Are those the hamsters?" The man asked.
Gundham hissed out an angered 'tchh.' "Those which you call mere hamsters only adopt that form as their mortal avatar within this pitiful world. The Zodiac Generals far surpass the power of one of your Earthly beasts."
"Right," the man nodded quickly, seemingly regretting the fact he'd already earned Gundham's wrath. "Are they with you?"
"...The Four Dark Devas of Destruction are... the other eight Generals I cannot account for." Gundham articulated.
"Right." The man continued to write, eyes flitting to Gundham with even greater fear now.
Can Gundham smell fear? Like wild animals do...? Komaeda's eyes drifted back and forth, cheerily musing his thoughts.
Gundham's turn to ask questions now. "Hmm... have you inscribed the fate of Supermassive Glacial Black Hole Sun?"
The man blinked, his eyes suddenly raising from the paper. "Is that a hamster?"
Gundham exhaled, visibly losing what little faith he held for mankind. "She is a fearsome basilisk. That which adorned my shoulders during my despairing years. Do you not know of her?"
The man paused, flipping through his papers again. "...It says she uh..." He glanced between the information and the despair, unsure whether to tell him or not. "...Was confiscated and said to have been euthanized."
Gundham blinked, clearing his throat abruptly. "Fine. I merely wondered." His wounds seeped through his voice. "What other trivial questions must I answer?" Absent-mindedly, movements trailed with firearms, he began to unfasten his scarf, lowering the garment towards the ground in a makeshift bridge.
As it made contact with the platform below, The Servant observed as the four devas in question spilled onto the floor, all taking off in different directions. Clearly he wasn't taking chances of them suffering a similar fate.
"Alright. Uh - could you please remove your glove and extend your hand?"
Gundham blinked. "Is my pestilence not apparent?"
The man gave a brief, uncertain stare. Clearly he hadn't understood what Tanaka had said. "Please? Just for the program."
Gundham hesitated, appearing uncomfortable with the request. Though, with a tired sigh, he reached for the glove, quickly stripping it off and offering it over to the inspector. "Be brief."
A hush fell over everyone. Nagito could sense their piqued curiosity. What did it look like to fail the despair test?
The man reached into his coat to extract the device, drawing everyone's eyes.
Gundham's expression looked calm. He wasn't afraid.
The other was far more afraid of him than he'd ever return, and he knew that.
Pressing the end to Gundham's pale, exposed palm, there was a moment of suspenseful, drawn out hesitation.
Then a faint sound clicked into place, and Tanaka's face shifted.
The Breeder jerked his hand back, exhaling a forced laugh. "Gghahaha-!" Quickly he slipped the glove back on, stifling an apparent, pleasured smile. "-Have I passed?"
"You failed, actually..." the man said slowly. "I'm afraid we're going to have to take you into custody, Tanaka. Can you give me your wrists?"
Gundham blinked at him, his expression alone ridiculed his idiocy. "Have you failed to examine my garments? Your intention is to bind my wrists when I wear a restraint about me?"
Ah. All's well, ends well-! Nagito didn't have any other work here. It would sort itself out! Wonderful...
He turned towards the ship, beginning to walk when he was suddenly stopped by another inspector.
"Aha! Yeah?" The Servant inclined his head. "I was just going to board! Sorry... if I got in your way..."
"Not that. Why are you boarding? Has anyone tested you yet?"
"Why? Ah - this..." The Servant carelessly stripped of his mitten, face lighting up as he waved at the instructor with Junko Enoshima's severed, discolored hand. 'Hey there!' "I think you can see why I want rid of it... right?" He wasn't a liar, so he dodged the question instead.
"...I can," the man didn't seem amused. "Extend your other hand?" He extracted a device of his own.
Komaeda could try to keep a straight face, but who was he kidding? This inspector... well - he was alluring in the face. Daunting, in a tantalizing way. Even if Komaeda hadn't been a despair, he'd have earned a smile for his 'test.' If not a little more than that. Komaeda didn’t mind hurt, despair or not. There really wasn't much hope for him, was there?
Clearing his throat, Nagito exhaled a rasp, giving over his hand. "See?"
The inspector stopped, snatching it up and inspecting the cut from the rock he'd gained earlier. The very same that had caused him to fawn in pain. "You've already passed."
Nagito blinked, eyeing the wound for himself.
...Just my luck. His garbage talent had its uses! Who knew - cutting open your hand on a rock could allow you to pass into a high security ship! Wonderful! He laughed with delight, exhaling with indebted servitude. He would gladly be lead anywhere! He was just a humble slave after all.
And he had work to do.
"Ah - alright!" His head tilted, eyes trailing Gundham as he, too, was lead off to the ship. A separate sector, most likely. But he was coming along! All was going according to plan.
The Servant grinned. "Ah, well. Lead the way!"