[The video begins recording amidst a spray of shattered brick and a cloud of dust from which Josuke immediately emerges. Behind him, a gaping hole in the front entrance of a pharmacy mends itself back together again, brick upon brick sliding back into place, dust rising up and disappearing off the sidewalk. He looks as though he's seen better days. So has his cadet's uniform. But Josuke pays none of it any mind. He adjusts the strap of a bag he's got slung over one shoulder, and then turns his attention to the network.]
I've got no way to get to the other Porter cities quickly enough unless someone can shuffle me around, but for anyone in Heropa—
[He cuts off suddenly, something in his line of sight catching his attention — and prompting him to move with great haste. A quiet curse escapes him as he drops his phone in the process...but as it tumbles along the sidewalk ultimately landing face up, lens toward a smoking sky, the device captures Josuke's figure reaching for a red and white sign that was knocked to the ground. With a legionnaire rider practically on top of him.
Only a booming clang gives any indication of what's happened next. Someone has been struck, but it isn't clear who until a riderless horse whizzes on by and Josuke's voice returns. Loud, clear, and irritable.]
The sign reads yield, asshole.
[Hurrying back to where he'd dropped his device, he scoops it up off the curb and leans against the steel sign he's adopted for now as a weapon.]
As I was saying...I'm making rounds. For anyone in the Heropa area that needs medical supplies or someone to heal them, or even repairs made to whatever you got to defend yourselves with, just let me know. I got your back.