A silhouette stood framed against the streetlamps. A figure clothed in black, slightly bent over into an aggressive posture, prepared to leap foreward. One hand clenched into a fist, the other holding a man by the front of his shirt.

"Still having fun?" The dark man growled down into his victim's face. Blood flowed from a broken nose, and his eye was already showing evidence that it would soon become a black eye.

"N-no!" The injured man cried out.

"Good. You're learning." With that much said, he started walking, dragging the man along with him before opening up a dumpster in a back alley. "Next time I see you, i'll have to get REALLY unpleasent." He added menacingly before throwing his victim into the dumpster and slamming down the lid.

As Shinobi scrambled up the nearby fire escape, he couldn't help chuckling to himself. It had been far to long since he'd enjoyed this sensation. He'd grown used to partnering himself with superhumans against threats well beyond him. He'd spent a year traveling around the world and training. It felt good to be back in New York. Back to busting gangs. To stopping muggings, and chasing down thieves.

"It's good to be back to the basics." He said to himself, surveying the neighborhood from a roof corner. "I'm ba-a-a-ack." He said, the moon providing an additional silhouette of the ninja.


------Elsewhere in New York------

Not everyone was thrilled by the return of one of New York's many and varied guardians though...in particular Nolan O'Connell. The dark haired man paced his, admittedly plush, office. A blue suit swished as he walked.

"I don't believe it." He growled. "I don't believe it. He's back!? I thought he was dead!" His voice rose into a yell as he kicked a chair over.

"Come on Mr. O'Connell," A young man with the build typically associated with football players spoke up. "it's not like he has any idea what's going on. He's doing what he always does. Picking fights with any criminal who crosses his path."

"You don't get it Jason...he's a goddamn superhero. Or whatever they want to be called. And he's beaten you and your entire gang before." He groaned, slumping back into an overstuffed chair.

"Well, let's see what happens with him right now hm?"

"Good idea...good idea." He sighed. "Keep up our plans, and don't let ANYONE know about this." He ordered.

"Yeah, yeah." Jason sighed. A brown haired youth, Jason was still teetering between his teen years and full adulthood. He was also the head of a small gang, The Cobras. Rather uncreatively named, but he'd found a niche as a professional henchment for more ambitious criminals.

"Three days back on the streets," Shinobi commented to his favorite gargoyle upon his favorite church, the very same one he'd nicknamed 'Mikey'. "and I haven't seen a metahuman crime, I haven't dealt with any world domination plots, hell, not even any weirdos in costumes." He grinned under his mask. "It feels pretty good."

He paused a moment, as though listening to what the Statue was saying. "...Yeah, I probably will get bored in a few more days." He shrugged, then blinked a few times. "...Wow. I need more people to talk to at night." He sighed, before leaping off the ledge he'd perched on, clutching the tightly woven fabric of his cloak and allowing the air currents to aid him in gliding down to a nearby rooftop. "More of that later though...time to start my rounds."

Given the relatively small area of the city Shinobi was able to regularly patrol any given evening, his route wasn't the most eventful, but it seemed every since his hiatus for training crime had spiked a bit. He usually encountered a few minor crimes each night. Muggings, vandalisim, that sort of thing...tonight though...tonight was different...

Looking down from his perch, Shinobi could make out a group of about five men and a parked car, pulling out various bits of machinery in front of, you guessed it, the local bank.

"Well, haven't dealt with this in a while." He commented, hopping nimbly off the low building, landing on the roof of their car with a dull 'thud' gathering the attention of the group.

"Making a late night withdrawl gentlemen?" He asked, looming up to his full height. "I think you should try the ATM."

The group seemed stunned for a moment at his appearence, before the apparent man in charge clenched his fists and pointed.

"Shoot him!" He yelled.