>>1900406

"Yeah, I do look nice. Yeah! This job, it'll be easy candy." You watch him turn around to continue being the lookout when his eyes widen and big grin forms. "By Holy Mary... Hey, hey, hey, check those girls out! I think it's them." Conroy attempts to pull you out but you grab his wrists and pull the creep in for a short word.

"Gentlemanly manners, yes?"You hiss at him to be a little less of a street urchin.

At the very least his face shows that he's learning by your words. "Uh, yes sir. But, uh, they're REALLY pretty. Amazing like."

"Well, it's a good enough reason to be nice then. Go," You gently push him off and thumb in the general direction of where Conroy has been ogling. "Make sure they're our clients, then open the door and let them in. Easy?"

"Easy." His face glows back with confidence, and then goes white in a second later, "Oh crap they're here!" You focus away from him and to your side mirror to try and see the girls, but no luck. "Um, hello! Good mor- evening to you ladies! Are you all the group of five heading to the casino?"

"Um... yes we are! We're so sorry that we're late. You must have been waiting a long time." You try to pick up the voice accent and guess that's from one of the colonies, which one is beyond you. "Thank you for waiting though, we're most grateful for your patience."

"Oh, not a problem at all ma'am. W-we were fine. Uh, my name is Conroy. This is here is... what was your name again?" This guy...

>Take out your pipe and light it before fingering that everyone should get in the limousine cause everyone is late. Introductions can be done while driving.
>"...Mark. Now let's go. We're very late." Well, you couldn't say Merc as to your mercenary occupation now, could you? Course not, how ungentlemanly of a topic.
> "Just Browning. Now let us be off for we are most late to our destination." Get the ball rolling, get your occupants in and out. Do your job.

>>1900410
>>Take out your pipe and light it before fingering that everyone should get in the limousine cause everyone is late. Introductions can be done while driving.

>>1900410
> "Just Browning. Now let us be off for we are most late to our destination." Get the ball rolling, get your occupants in and out. Do your job.

>>1900410
>Take out your pipe and light it before fingering that everyone should get in the limousine cause everyone is late. Introductions can be done while driving.

>>1900410
> "Just(in) Browning. Now let us be off for we are most late to our destination." Get the ball rolling, get your occupants in and out. Do your job.

>>1900410
>> "Just Browning. Now let us be off for we are most late to our destination." Get the ball rolling, get your occupants in and out. Do your job.

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>>1900410
>Take out your pipe and light it before fingering that everyone should get in the limousine cause everyone is late. Introductions can be done while driving.

>>1900410
>"...Mark. Now let's go. We're very late." Well, you couldn't say Merc as to your mercenary occupation now, could you? Course not, how ungentlemanly of a topic.

>>1900410

Opening up one of your inner chest pockets, you take out the little smoking case and pipe, then you lean out to view of the passengers you'll be taking care of. Subtracting Conroy, there are five girls wearing some well-made ball dresses that the wealthier class can afford. Colorful, frilly, just there's the odd little foreigner.

Eh, you're staring too much. "Just Browning. Now let us be off for we are most late to our destination. Conroy." You gesture him to open the door like he should. Like now.

"R-right this way ladies! Please. As our driver says, we late to the ball." Finally, the boy lets the guests inside and you can warm up the engine and your pipe. Once you confirm the girls are in, driving is as easy as one two three. Sadly, you can't leave the boy behind and he takes the seat beside you while unsafely leaning into the cabin to chat with the students.

Fuck it, his choice, his funeral. You drive onward cautiously on the highway being wary of the other drivers. The people that drive in London are fickle as can be, some are good but that's rare. Oh right, rich assholes, you almost forgot.

"So, it's Ange? What a nice name. And your name? Dorothy? Beatrice, hm, got it! Cheese? Chise? Oh okay. Charlotte?" You can hear ladykiller speak out loud but only barely as the wind and engine drown out much of everything else. It isn't until you get to the normal streets that your ears can pick up some random vowels and consonants.

"So, it's Ange? What a nice name. And your name? Dorothy? Beatrice, hm, got it! Cheese? Chise? Oh okay. Charlotte?" You can hear ladykiller speak out loud but only barely as the wind and engine drown out much of everything else. It isn't until you get to the normal streets that your ears can pick up some random vowels and consonants.

"... the Princess!" Someone behind shouts for some reason.

As you approach a stop due to traffic and what nonsense you can't see, you are shaken violently by the kid who looks like he's seen twenty ghosts from times past. "B-b-browning!W-waa"

"What is it now?" You ask and eye the vehicles behind you. Focusing more carefully, you swore that you're seeing some of the same drivers from ten minutes ago.

Frantically, Conroy eyes go all over for a moment, then whispering, "w-we have the fourth Albion Princess in the caboose. Real royalty! We can't this fuck up man." You ignore the panicking kid and lean a little closer to your side mirror before looking at the other one. Indeed, you're being boxed in now by three cars. That is not good.

>Maybe you're paranoid. As damn if. Calmy use an alternative path to reach the casino. You heard of assassination attempts on royalty, rich, actually anyone really. Anyway, you have a job to do. Floor it.
>Turn around and calmy state to your guests, "Ladies. I don't want to panic any of you but we're being tailed." And Conroy fucks things up. Thank you kid, really, good job in letting them know by looking at them.
>Write-in.

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>>1901014

Fucking forgot image, fuck me.

>>1901014
>Maybe you're paranoid. As damn if. Calmy use an alternative path to reach the casino. You heard of assassination attempts on royalty, rich, actually anyone really. Anyway, you have a job to do. Floor it.

Might as well wins some points with the group. Show off your skills and maybe they'll hire you again for another job.

>>1901017
>>1901014
If you don't mind me asking, what vehicle are we supposed to be driving. One like the one in the picture, or something a bit larger, safer, one with a roof, please describe it

>>1901014
>Write-in: If you had stopped staring at their bodies and payed attetion to what they are wearing you would have noticed the quality of their get up. Still..uh...royalty? Well that's good, a bigger pay check at least. Oh also you should hold up a bit and put a seat belt. Turn to the ladies and say we will be increasing the vehicle speed, we will need to do this because the traffic ahead will make us arrive to late to our destiny, so we will need to make a small detour and go toward a longer route. With that said they might want to take a hold. Then punch it.

I should start to proff read my shit.

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>>1901056

You are rolling in a steampunk version of this 'limo', made longer to accommodate more persons. You have what's shown, self-explanatory, but also you have side mirrors and have the cabin made with better materials so it can take somewhat of a beating. Also, you have access to a personal firearm(determined later) and Conroy does too.

>>1901080
What kind of driv- oh wait we are a merc. Okay then. Personal firearm so a 9mm?

>>1901080
With the name we chose I assume we would have access to a Browning.
With that said;
>>Maybe you're paranoid. As damn if. Calmy use an alternative path to reach the casino. You heard of assassination attempts on royalty, rich, actually anyone really. Anyway, you have a job to do. Floor it.

>>1901014
>Write-in.
>"Princess, huh? Guess that explains why you five are getting this heat on my ass. Maybe you haven't noticed it, but we've got three friends here trying to box us in. No worries, though - I'll get you to the ball. You may want to hang onto something, though. And alternate destinations are always welcome, since I'd bet they know where we're headed." Is the light green? Yes? Floor it. No? Floor it anyway. You're in front now, at least - and you can't let one of these guys cut you off.

>>1901094
Wood handle right?

>>1901119
I'm sorry I don't follow

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>>1901125
The pistol grip. Is it wood or is it just plain?

>>1901138
I honestly don't know. I think it's just something we should leave up to us to imagine. If it comes up later we can continue the discussion.
Personally I'm for wood though

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>>1901014

You eye the narrow alley to your right rear, then mostly blocked the road at the front and the incoming cars from behind. A burst of steam comes from a pipe from the alleyway, causing those rear cars to slow down. It's your chance. "Browning!"

"Hang on." You slam the clutch and shift into the right gear.

"What!?" Not giving much consideration for the guests, you take one big puff from your pipe and smash the accelerator down and begin weaving between the still cars and the few with the guts to do a u-turn. "AAAAAAHHHHHHHH! WHAT IN THE LORD ARE YOU DOING!?"

"AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!" You hear two girly shrills, one too close and the other from behind. Also, going from the mirror it appears that one of your pursuers have caused an accident with either another innocent or each other. Well, that took care of them.

Oh, you better dodge incoming traffic and make that right turn. "Whooo! We're certainly going fast." You feel a close warmth from behind your head but focus on the not dying part. The car's wheels screech from the harsh movements at relatively high speed.

"Why are we going so fast!?" The rear screamer shouts, almost making you reflexively grin.

"My, this certainly seems familiar." Another passenger states rather tranquil like while you make a ninety degree left over a small mound.

"What the fuck sir!? Can't you slow down!?"

"No. We're late." You flip out the watch and read the time as 6:19 PM.

"SO!?" Conroy shouts bewildered.

"Unacceptable." It truly is not okay to be late for an event that's paying you well. Besides, after five more minutes of high-speed driving, you arrive hot to the weirdly named Mr. Smiles Casino's entrance road and park in between two other automobiles without doing so much as a scratch. “We have arrived at our destination.”

Conroy immediately falls out from his seat and onto the pavement with a loud thud, simultaneously you can see one of the short passengers burst out from the caboose and gasping for air. The rest though come out as though nothing out of the ordinary occurred and are looking very serene together.

“Well, that was quite the ride! Driver, I never expected such skill and craziness.” The woman with the... assets joyfully declares and laughs as several guards and bystanders start coming over.

>Only shrug in reply. If more pursuers come, then yes. If things escalate, then so will your actions. Anyway, it seems there's a phone call for you.
>"Assuming you have a curfew and you need it beat, then I'll think of something." When you do a job, you do it right or to the best of your ability. Go do some maintenance of the car. You did go a little too rough.
>"Do you require escorting inside as well?" If so, you'll go in. If not, well, you should help Conroy not be a waste of breath.
>Write-in.

>Only shrug in reply. If more pursuers come, then yes. If things escalate, then so will your actions. Anyway, it seems there's a phone call for you.

Light up our pipe again

>>1901314
>Only shrug in reply. If more pursuers come, then yes. If things escalate, then so will your actions. Anyway, it seems there's a phone call for you.

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>>1901314

Noticing your pipe has gone cold after all the icy wind made from all the drifting and driving, you strike up a match before giving the woman a shrug to her question. Better to be flexible than rigid in times of need, but not too flexible that there's no strength.

“Aw, you could have at least said something. Well, thank you. See ya.” The rather front heavy woman waves farewell as do the others.

“A good evening to you.”
“Thank you for the ride.”
“Most honorable driver, my deep thanks.”

You nod and wave to each of them and they're quickly surrounded by guards, waiters, and guests, undoubtedly due to the Princess importance. And it seems Conroy has finally recovered enough to stand on his two feet. While he gets up, an older butler breaks from the crowd and walks over to you. “Excuse me, are you Mr. Browning?”

Rarely have you given out your name to strangers. “I am.”

“You have a phone call from someone calling himself the Jackal.” Oh, your good friend that got you this job in the first place. Him. Yeah, you want a word with him.

You shut off the engine and get out. Before you follow the man in, you face Conroy and tell him, “Watch the car. I'll be back.”

“Wha?” He mutters and then staggers back to his seat. No time for him, you're heading inside, ahead of the girls stuck in human traffic. It does please that you know that you're a nobody and aren't surrounded by people of different natures.

When you're finally at the phone and bring it up, you remain quiet, choosing to tap the table loud enough for the receiver to pick up. “Browning! Uh, nice that you're alive. So, about that driving gig...”

>>1901495

“I got tailed, Jackal. And I found out that I'm moving a VIP to the Kingdom. Anything else you want to mention?” You state as neutrally as possible to your benefactor. Sure, the jobs a bit more dangerous, and if things go bad, you'll deal with it as with any other job.

“Ahhh, yeah, about that... I come across some not so good news. While my contacts were out finding jobs, one of them came across a, uh, counter job. It only pays a bit more, okay about a fourth more than the protection job. I can assume you get my drift and the details.”

“I do. Anything else noteworthy?”

“Yeah, I do actually, a good one. That special order you wanted, the... stuff, it's ready. It's being delivered to the car by some of the orphans. You shouldn't miss them.”

“That's probably the best news I've heard this week.” And very good news.

“That's all for now. Don't die now, ya hear me?” You hand the phone and start heading back to the car. Your things are coming here.

>You somehow, like using both melee weapons and generally pistols together. Not the smartest option some say. That doesn't mean you don't know how to use other firearms, it's just when push comes to stab and shot, you'd like a short sword and a pistol to shoot and stab.
>The machine gun that you have been waiting for is at last coming. Sometimes personal defense means more firepower than the other guy. And for other reasons. You'll get a big travel bag for this thing.
>One word. Shotgun. Semi-automatic. In 10 gauge. That's a big and nasty calibre.
>Every man a rifleman. You are no exception. You prefer the compact of a carbine.

Never mind the material stuff. Are you loyal to the contract?
>Yes. Status quo is as it should be.
>No. Higher pay means a new employer.

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>>1901496
>The machine gun that you have been waiting for is at last coming. Sometimes personal defense means more firepower than the other guy. And for other reasons. You'll get a big travel bag for this thing.

>Yes. Status quo is as it should be.

Please be a thompson

>Every man a rifleman. You are no exception. You prefer the compact of a carbine.

>Yes. Status quo is as it should be

>>1901496
>Every man a rifleman. You are no exception. You prefer the compact of a carbine.
>Yes. Status quo is as it should be.

>>1901496
>>You somehow, like using both melee weapons and generally pistols together. Not the smartest option some say. That doesn't mean you don't know how to use other firearms, it's just when push comes to stab and shot, you'd like a short sword and a pistol to shoot and stab.
>Yes. Status quo is as it should be.

>>1901919
>>1901873
So, lever action or bolt action?

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>>1901992
I'm guessing semi-Automatic. An M1 like pic related.

If by Carbine OP meant a Bolt or Lever Action weapon then I'd change my vote to a machine gun since single fire weapons would limit us too much.

>>1901496
>Every man a rifleman. You are no exception. You prefer the compact of a carbine.
>Yes. Status quo is as it should be.
A carbine is the best weapon for a man of our sorts, and an unreliable driver is no driver at all

>>1901496
>>One word. Shotgun. Semi-automatic. In 10 gauge. That's a big and nasty calibre.
I think a Winchester would make sense

>>Yes. Status quo is as it should be.

>>1901496
>>The machine gun that you have been waiting for is at last coming. Sometimes personal defense means more firepower than the other guy. And for other reasons. You'll get a big travel bag for this thing.
Get a fucking BAR

>Yes. Status quo is as it should be.

>>1901496
Yes. Status quo is as it should be
You somehow, like using both melee weapons and generally pistols together. Not the smartest option some say. That doesn't mean you don't know how to use other firearms, it's just when push comes to stab and shot, you'd like a short sword and a pistol to shoot and stab.

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>>1901496

Right when you turn to the entrance corridor, you feel that your chest had lightly impacted something soft and light. Looking down, you can see it has gray braided hair. Then it clicks when you look further down, the blue dress and the person's face, she's one of your passengers.

“Aahhh! I'm so sorry! I wasn't looking where I was going. Ah!” She's about to curtsy when her glasses fall off and instinctively you reach out form them but are a bit too close to her... lower hips. Quickly, you pull back from her and give back her glasses without saying a word. “Oh, uh, thank you!”

You hear as you wade through the admirers, nobles and what have you blocking the damn way. Really, how thoughtless. After charging through the mess, you make it outside to cold but fresh air and see a pair of teens dropping an elongated pack in your car. When you walk closer, Conroy is nowhere to be seen.

Did he go take a piss or something? “Hey, you two.” When you're assured of their attention you lob them a gift of a penny each. “Have you seen a kid in a suit? Has curly brown hair. Kinda puffy looking. He's supposed to be here.”

One kid shakes his head and the other ponders for a moment, next he points at a dark garden area within the casino walls. “I think I saw a group of people there. Maybe he's with them?” You lob another penny at that kid and wave them off to leave.

Did Conroy meet some friends? Was he taken away? Ah, the car needs some maintenance too. And what Jackal said before, trouble might be coming everywhere, inside too.

>Write off Conroy and head on inside to overwatch the Princess and her associates. In for a penny, in for a pound.
>Go find your assistant and bring his ass back in one piece. You don't need to hear that Jackal's friend lost a kid.
>Stand guard in the front of the entrance. That way you can get the car in good enough order in case of a real chase.

>Go find your assistant and bring his ass back in one piece. You don't need to hear that Jackal's friend lost a kid.

We should have had the kids look for Conroy

>>1902322
>Go find your assistant and bring his ass back in one piece. You don't need to hear that Jackal's friend lost a kid.

Fucking piece of shit kid making me go after him. I sware i will punch him if he makes me loose this job.

>>1902336
Conroy is a street urchin and there is also a better paid job to kidnap the princess. Let's make sure he isn't going to back stab us and if he does we shoot him and who ever else is in there.

>>1902322
>Go find your assistant and bring his ass back in one piece. You don't need to hear that Jackal's friend lost a kid.

If he's not in any real trouble we can just get him and bring him back no problem, then he can help us with the car. But I have a feeling it's not going to be that simple.

>>1902322
>Go find your assistant and bring his ass back in one piece. You don't need to hear that Jackal's friend lost a kid.

>>1902322

That kid will be the death of you yet. Grabbing the straps, you heft the whole heavy pack on your right shoulder and head to the garden area. You walk slowly so your eyes can adjust to the low lighting and so you don't trip on anything that might be on the ground. You think you're going around the garden, at least you're focusing on keeping the wall, fence, or bushes to your right at all times.

As you come to a circular opening with a stone fountain, you can barely hear whispers over the water falling. It's close. Silently, carefully, you go around the fountain until you finally can track where the whispers are coming from.

“Hey, come on. You can do it. We'll let you in on the pay too. It's just a photo of the royals.”
“We're all in the same gang.”
“Come on, don't be a fish.”
“Or just tell us where she is. Or maybe open up a back way.”

“Hey guys, I really don't want to fuck this job up. And I've never been inside so I wouldn't know shit. And I didn't follow the Princess in so I got nothing. Sorry lads.” It's then you're able to see the lane that Conroy and three other shadows are staying in. But you see at least three more come from the other side.

“Looks like negotiations are over. Hurry it up.”
“Hey, hey, not yet.”
“Hang on. Who's there!”

That might be you but you can't really tell.

>Come out and give them something as a present. A lethal one. Okay, maybe you'll try and let one other than Conroy live.
>”It's Tommy!” Yeah, these folks don't sound like the nicest gents. Also, their clothing is below the standard. Sanitation time.
>Be mute and back away. They might just be a bullshit move to force you to react. No, no, no, they're trapped with you.
>Uh, you really don't want to be loud, at least gunfire loud. That would be rude. ASSAULT!
>Write-in.

>>1902571
>Be mute and back away. They might just be a bullshit move to force you to react. No, no, no, they're trapped with you.

>>1902571
>>Be mute and back away. They might just be a bullshit move to force you to react. No, no, no, they're trapped with you.

>>1902571
Come out with our BAR in the under armour assault position, demands they turn out their pockets upon pain of getting perforated. Once they have done so, and if everything if in order, let them run off without their shit.

>>1902718
*Under arm
Fucking autocorrect.

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>>1902571

It might be a ruse to get you to react. You remain in the shadows enough that you can still be able to see the road. “Hey! Come on out!”

“...”
“...”
“I said come out!”
“Dude there's nobody there.”
“Shine a torch over there!”
“We're supposed to be quiet!”
“We c-”

You hear something different, barely louder than those voices and now screams. You've never heard this weird sound before. Or you might be hearing the impact of something to that guy's head. But you do recognize the sound of a chemical smoke being generated and see the effects on those guys. Till they're in the smoke that is.

“What was that!?”
“Bah! Smoke bomb!”
“Gah!”
“Ahh my arm!”
“Right! Right!”

You can hear the men falling to the ground and the violence of action, mainly the sort for beatings using tools.

Conroy makes the smartest decision you've seen and runs the hell away from the cluster over to you. When he's within arms reach you, you grab the back of his shirt collar and herd him straight through some bushes as a way to expedite the getting out. “GO!”

“Wha-”

“Shut up and cover your face!”

“Ahhh!” You use him as a plow over the various bushed in the way, not giving him much time to react or keep him on his feet. Still, it's rough on your left arm but once you're can see the lights of the front entrance, you drop the kid to his feet.

Great, your clothes are messed up now by the dirt and leaves. Still, better than Conroy's state. He'll never get inside the way he looks now. “Ppff! Pah! Browning? Uh, thanks, sir.”

“Hah... We're not done for the night just yet. This time, stay inside the cabin. And keep your head down. I gotta do something.”

>You need to find security. NOW. People's lives are at stake. More importantly, your passengers lives! This shoddy mess can't be called proper protection.
>Quip about a drunken brawl to the gatekeeper and go inside to personally see to the defense of your wards. It's proof enough that if those thugs got in, more are inside.
>Why the hell is that gate not closed? The front one before reaching the build's entrance. Is like they're letting everyone in bu keeping the thing open.
>Write-in.

>>1902955
>Quip about a drunken brawl to the gatekeeper and go inside to personally see to the defense of your wards. It's proof enough that if those thugs got in, more are inside.

Security might not believe us and waste time better get in and find our passagers.

>>1902955
>You need to find security. NOW. People's lives are at stake. More importantly, your passengers lives! This shoddy mess can't be called proper protection

>>1902955
>Quip about a drunken brawl to the gatekeeper and go inside to personally see to the defense of your wards. It's proof enough that if those thugs got in, more are inside.

>Quip about a drunken brawl to the gatekeeper and go inside to personally see to the defense of your wards. It's proof enough that if those thugs got in, more are inside.

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>>1902955

You adjust the pack and make way to the main entryway where one of the guards on station approaches you with the intention of holding you up. “Hol-”

You interrupt with, “Hey, listen, some uppity drunks are making a racket over there. Really, some can't hold their drinks in. Lightweights, am I right? Right. Anyway, someone will have to deal with it later after they calm down. Now I need to fix my suit. Excuse me.” You do a proper army salute to both soldiers and barge your way to casino proper.

Not doing the thing you said, you track in minor bits of dirt and grass through the big and large gallery, filled with players and an array of unique workers for people of different tastes. Winners, losers, not important, what is necessary is finding your dependents.

Of which, you easily spot one, the famous princess, easy since she's with a group of different dignitaries clustering around her in both plain and unique clothing comparative to most of the workers. As you come closer and continue eyeing the room, you can see some more important people, like a Duke and the Albion Queen, and probably the successors. Not hard to tell given their age and bodyguards close by.

You head in an about way to get close to the Princess, getting a few stares but otherwise are not accosted by the nobles, only the workers trying to draw you into playing some cards or other gambling pastimes.

Luckily, you find a nice, inconspicuous spot next to a potted bush and begin observing the persons, only to see the little foreigner girl you drove come over to your side. “Good evening to you.”

“Yeah...” Well, the job got kinda weirder. She nearly mimics your style of leaning against the wall, arms folded and her bundle kelt upright by her left arm. “Enjoying yourself?” You ask politely and not to be awkward.

“Not much, I'm confounded in all these things.” She answers and watches one of the waitresses in a bunny suit go past. “Why are the women workers wearing different uniforms from each other?”

“No idea.” Okay, you probably know the real reason.

>But the task at hand, “May I ask inquire the whereabouts of your companions? I don't see them.” It's for their safety and making sure they're accounted for.
>Talk about Albion's gambling way. Surely, whoever this girl knows the addiction from others. Talk about Blackjack and not hookers. That wheel game. Poker.
>Ask her if she can get the Princess to come over in a way that won't attract attention. Ah, this job is going to be harder if all of them are apart.
>Apologize but you need to do some more walking. There's a second story and you want to know what's up there.

>>1903414
>>Apologize but you need to do some more walking. There's a second story and you want to know what's up there.

>>1903414
>But the task at hand, “May I ask inquire the whereabouts of your companions? I don't see them.” It's for their safety and making sure they're accounted for.

>>1903414
>Apologize but you need to do some more walking. There's a second story and you want to know what's up there.
The princess seems a mite young to be roving a gambling hall

>>1903414
>>Apologize but you need to do some more walking. There's a second story and you want to know what's up there.

>>1903414
Talk about Albion's gambling way. Surely, whoever this girl knows the addiction from others. Talk about Blackjack and not hookers. That wheel game. Poker.

Explan the what the differnt outfits mean

>>1903414
>Talk about Albion's gambling way. Surely, whoever this girl knows the addiction from others. Talk about Blackjack and not hookers. That wheel game. Poker.

>>1903414
>>Apologize but you need to do some more walking. There's a second story and you want to know what's up there.

>>1903414
>Apologize but you need to do some more walking. There's a second story and you want to know what's up there.

Man i was kinda liking where this quest was going. Hope it ain't busted.

>>1903414
>>But the task at hand, “May I ask inquire the whereabouts of your companions? I don't see them.” It's for their safety and making sure they're accounted for.

Ded?

>>1906321
I think it is..a pitty i was enjoying it.

>>1904193
It is busted, these faggots keep making the wrong choice
>>1903414
>>But the task at hand, “May I ask inquire the whereabouts of your companions? I don't see them.” It's for their safety and making sure they're accounted for.

>>1906442
>this quest is broken because people aren't making the choices I want them to

>>1906447
I was mostly joking, but I do disagree with the choice
I have no clue where OP is

>>1906456
Fair enough. Telling intent over text is always a nightmare.

I'm hoping OP isn't in a morgue or something. This quest is alright, although I don't normally go in for anime-based quests.

Not dead, just doing 15 hours of work. Now back. Give me an hour or two to fix my head.

>>1906633
Uhull the quest ain't dead!! Glad to hear it boss. I will be here

>>1906633
I've got nowhere to be. I'll be here when you come back, QM.

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>>1903414

“Sorry, but I have to cut our chat short. I need to get walking.” You hoist back up the heavy bag and begin moving to the colorful dual staircase with what appears to be a dragon spouting water. Oh, a fountain, yeah, fancy.

“To where?” She has to really tilt her head up to stare at you from where she is.

Using your head, you gesture to the upper floor and balconies. “Up.”

“Mind if I join you?” You can't find a reason to say no right now.

So you shrug your shoulders and answer, “I won't stop you. But stay to my left so we don't hit each other with our things.”

”Umu!” You guess that's a yes or something. Moving on, you deny other people personal space when you pass by with... oh fuck names. The CH one, it sounded foreign when Conroy said their names earlier. Chise?

You'll find out later, hopefully. Arriving at the stairs, you're greeted by a nearly bald middle-aged man in a white suit. “A pleasant evening to you two. I'm sorry, but upstairs are for invitation holders only. I-” You're not taking this shit of an excuse right now.

“So security to the royal family isn't good enough for ya? Insulting the Kingdom are you?” The panic in his eyes and on his face is comedic, to say the least as he tries to sputter out something of a sentence but you're too quick for him and especially don't want to hear it. “Outta the way.” You brush straight past him along with the Chise. She seems to have witnessed a eureka moment from your actions.

Well, you won't judge, but you will. Aw, you kinda feel bad about it. Back to reality, the upper balconies overlooking the main hall are barren in both persons and furnishings. Aside from the support pillars and other woodwork holding the ceiling and chandeliers. Strange, but you suppose all the money went into what's behind the wonderfully engraved wooden doors with naked imagery of men and women.

It's enough to you blush and so does Chise. “Is this what they call art?”

Cont.

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>>1906941

“I think it's Roman.” Or Greek, not important. You brave through the door and become a witness to acts that are below vulgar but above ungentlemanly or reverse that on a different scale. “Ah, Christ.”

The large room is heavily dimmed that it's difficult to see but going from the alluring smell of cigar, alcohol, and human, “MMMM!!!” Fuck this shit you're out of here no orgy for you tonight thanks never popped cherry already bye. As you're about to slam the door shut, two of the missing girls you were looking for bust out from the fling room, and then you close the door with a bang.

The endowed woman and the braided gray haired girl pant for a time before making eye contact with you and for whatever reason, or maybe a mutual agreement, no one says anything. Except for Chise, who also helpfully distinguishes who is who for you, “Ange, Dorothy? Why were you in there?”

“Chise? Aren't you suppose to be watching the Princess?” Ange's voice is much more colder than what you recall from before, it's icy, distant, and a hint of anger.

“Eh?” Right when Chise says that, you feel a pulse coming from the direction the main gate and by looking through the pane glass window, you spot a brief moment of bright yellow and red, followed by a black cloud. Half a second later, you can hear the kaboom.

Shortly after you hear several revolver shots ring out from behind you and the floor below. “GET DOWN!”

“ON THE FLOOR!” People are panicking, screaming, running, cowering, few are trying to protect, things are happening too fast.

>Not a fuck to give. Eliminate the threat coming from the floor below. Protect the Princess and her friends. That is the mission.
>You're flanked from behind. That is unacceptable. Go into that place and clear it of the attackers. You can make your next move after that.
>You are not ready! Take... take cover at the men's room. Wait for a calmer situation to act.
>”Peace was never an option, was it!?” Assault the gaming room with much zeal and engage in close quarters combat and shooting.
>Write-in.

>>1906946
>You're flanked from behind. That is unacceptable. Go into that place and clear it of the attackers. You can make your next move after that.

>>1906946
>>You're flanked from behind. That is unacceptable. Go into that place and clear it of the attackers. You can make your next move after that.

>>1906946
>You're flanked from behind. That is unacceptable. Go into that place and clear it of the attackers. You can make your next move after that.

Hopefully they will send someone up the we can start cleaning the bodies silently then.~

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>>1906946

Your eyes track what's happening below and what's going on behind. It's all fucked up. FUCK! “FUCK!” You release the straps to your gun bag, letting the contents dangle by the inside pockets or straps, or let fall the loose items. You reach for the automatic rifle and magazine pouches, throwing the slings over your neck in a haphazard manner. Turns out there's also a pistol too and you snag that to your belt.

Hastily, you swing the pack over on your back without bothering to shut it and take one long and deep smoke from your pipe as you prepare for the breach. You are so fucked. You pull open the door and check the left side of the room, now all bright with the electric lights instead of what are clearly tiny candles.

The middle is a mess of people that you ignore since none of them are armed. Left side, you spot two ongoing tussles, it's easy to tell who's the bad guys by their raggedy patched clothing compared to the suits and so you plug the closer man in the chest when the opportunity presents itself. Immediately the target limps to the floor bleeding and good as dead, the 'good guy' is free to do whatever.

The bodyguard or whoever still fighting sees your this and promptly throws his attacker away from him so you can put a bullet through the cranium. Not bothering for confirming kills, you switch hands to clear the right side of the room where five chiefs? Cooks? They have that white tall hat and they have pistols pointed at you.

Fortunately, they're nowhere near the casino guests or in anything resembling real cover, consequently, you engage them and they fire back. You aim for the center of mass, the top of their aprons basically, trying to only use two or three shot bursts while they fire blindly and on the move either to you or away from you.

You fire and shift targets as quickly as your body can handle, every millisecond matters, every bullet fired at you could end you. Still, after nearly blowing your eardrums, you're on the last man and feel something tap your upper arm after watching him fire as you drop him. A fast glance shows some wood fragments and a mushroomed bullet sticking from your suit. It, uh, kinda hurts, mostly burning though. You swat off the round and lean inside to sweep the right corner. Before you're able to do complete the breaching, your left eye manages to get a glimpse of a teen with a coach gun finishing his run to a potted plant.

Are you faster than him, or is he faster than you?

>Push through! Cut him down by lead. The difference one of you is confident.
>Uh, yeah, bait him into firing his two shots, then shoot him.
>Leap away and blind fire at his general position through the wall. It's fucking wood, and wood ain't shit at close range with a .30-06.
>Convince him to surrender. Seriously, you just killed his buddies here and it's only a matter of time before you or another gets the ones outside.
>Blind fire the kid with your pistol in concealment. Why take a risk?

>>1907102
>Leap away and blind fire at his general position through the wall. It's fucking wood, and wood ain't shit at close range with a .30-06.

>>1907102
>Leap away and blind fire at his general position through the wall. It's fucking wood, and wood ain't shit at close range with a .30-06.

>>1907102
>Uh, yeah, bait him into firing his two shots, then shoot him.

>>1907102
>Blind fire the kid with your pistol in concealment. Why take a risk?

>>1907102
>Push through! Cut him down by lead. The difference one of you is confident
KILL!

>>1907102
>>Convince him to surrender. Seriously, you just killed his buddies here and it's only a matter of time before you or another gets the ones outside.
Maybe we can get some info?

>>1907656
The only info we need to know they are a threat to our passager. The princess and that they need to be removed if we want to take her to safety.

>>1907102

Turns out you find out by leaping away from the door and hear a blast from inside once you hit the floor, but not the outcome. He must have shot the ceiling since the door hasn't been shredded. No matter, he had another round ready. What he doesn't have is your position or an effective gun to shoot through walls. On the other hand, you do. While still on your back, you take aim and spray along the wall where you saw him, the B.A.R.'s low rate of fire lets your every shot be precise at this range.

It's a short burst and your rifle is empty, but you can hear the boy screaming on the other side so you must have hit him somewhere. You save the empty magazine and smack a new one in, cock the gun, and fire another burst at the wall, making a sort of M of bullet holes.

During which you hear most pistol shots from below and more calls to subdue the hostages. There's not enough time to visually confirm that person's death as the floor below situation is heating up. You roll over to your belly and peek what you can through the gaps in the wooden railings.

Guards are fighting each other, the victims are ducking for the most part as a few are running into the toilets for whatever reason, you can count five obvious gunmen pointing and threatening the lives of the gamblers.

Your passengers, eh, you can't see them. And you have such a good shooting position that you can see most of them. One hundred, two hundred yards at most. Too easy, more so with this here auto rifle.

You really should shoot with your dominant hand and eye. But you won't, that would disrupt your current view of the situation and take up precious seconds compared to you lining the sights of the head trying to organize things and pulling the trigger.

He's dead and his body slumps behind some pool table. Shifting up, you spot two men turning to their dead leader and ending up much the same as when you're sure there's nobody behind them.

Cont.

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>>1907748

Next up is the farthest man, all the way at the stairway leading to the entrance. He's beside the railing. Well, too bad for him, when you place three .30 calibre rounds in his upper chest his body falls over the railing. Shame, you couldn't see or hear the fall.

As for the final party crasher, as you reacquire sight on him, you spot him slapping aside a girl shorter than him before grabbing the Princess and backing away from the nobles and guards. Right then he fires a shot at your position. It misses, of course.

“STOP FIRING! STAY AWAY! OR THE PRINCESS DIES! STAY AWAY! GET AWAY FROM ME!”

The guards are just about done with purging their traitors, but they're way too undermanned and away from the threat to your VIP. And the guests, well, they're useless so, fuck. How should this be handled?

>Ah, you have a really, really bad idea. Get the kidnapper to shoot you and hopefully, he'll hit your body armor sections. He has a six-shooter and already wasted one, possibly more, rounds. So uh, yeah.
>-Threaten him that you're obviously the biggest threat and he should kill you or else he'll be in a world of pain. So much pain and blood. And death... oh it'll only be months before you'll let him die. And his family, oh you just know they're still kicking. But not for long.
>-Throw random bottles at him. Seriously, he's probably dumb enough to shoot them, therefore, at you.
>-Prep a firebomb. There's must be some high-grain alcohol. Use it to get his attention and fake threaten that you'll use it if the Princess does die.
>-Write-in.
>Sneak away from your position and attack from above. He's close to a balcony you can drop down. Hopefully, nobody does anything dumb to agitate him.
>... Shred the taker's arm when he's not pointing it at the Princess. So yeah, fuck everyone else.
>Boom, headshot.
>... Charge.

>>1907754
>-Write-in.
Combine the first two. Tell him about us being a bigger threat and that if he kills the princess we will surely make him regret doing so and after we are done with all of these we will go after his family. Tell him killing us first should be his main goal then let him shoot us and we take advantage of this to shoot him back.

>>1907754
>>... Shred the taker's arm when he's not pointing it at the Princess. So yeah, fuck everyone else.

>>1907783
Sure Why Not

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>>1907754

Considering your payment and the risk factor, you are extensively underpaid for this mission. You are being paid though, you'll see this through to the end. “Don't get close! I mean it! Stay back!” As you stand up, the guy keeps backing himself against the wall along with the Princess while several bodyguards and soldiers start surrounding him with their weapons drawn. “Don't try anything! You hear me? Back! BACK!”

Oh, this is such a horrible idea. “HEY! IDIOT!” You shout to him as you're in the process of walking down the stairs. It gets his attention but not the attention of his gun. “WHY ARE YOU POINTING A GUN AT A WEAKLING? WHAT THE HELL CAN SHE DO!? LOOK AT ME!” You motion over the general area of the bodies of his former comrades. “LOOK WHAT I'VE DONE! I'M THE BIGGEST THREAT! AND KILLING THE PRINCESS WILL JUST MAKE IT EASIER FOR ME TO GET YOU!”

You left eye twitches as blood rushes to your head and sweat begins forming as you yell some more, “AND IF YOU DO SO MUCH AS TOUCH HER, NOT EVEN GOD OR THE DEVIL WILL STOP ME FROM HUNTING YOU AND YOUR ENTIRE FAMILY DOWN. I SWEAR THERE WILL BE SOME MUCH PAIN, BLOOD, AND YOU WILL JUST BEG TO DIE AS I MAKE YOU SLOWLY SUFFER ALONG WITH YOUR FAMILY. I WILL SPARE NONE! SO YOU BETTER TRY TO TAKE ME DOWN!”

The kidnapper's gun goes from the head of the Princess to your body, like you wanted. You feel the fear, not from the man, but even the guests are beginning to be afraid of your questionable actions and inch away from you. “YOU! YOU! GET AWAY FROM ME! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!” It seems you horrible plan worked as it should.

>Stand still and take the shots. You're far enough away that you'll take minor damage, assuming he can hit a target at a hundred yards. Then shoot him.
>Charge with swift feet and bayonet in a zigzag. If you're alive and he's out of ammo, slaughter him. Execute. Execute! EXECUTE!
>You need a prisoner, he'll make do. Assault the enemy and 'dodge' till you're in melee range to knock him down.

>>1908157
>You need a prisoner, he'll make do. Assault the enemy and 'dodge' till you're in melee range to knock him down.

Althought the first two options are badasses this option is the only one were i see the princess doesn't end up covered in blood

>>1908157

>Stand still and take the shots. You're far enough away that you'll take minor damage, assuming he can hit a target at a hundred yards. Then shoot him.
Take him apart arm by arm

God damm the girls are a bit freaky

>>1908172
Y do we care who his working for?
The job is only to babysit this function
Not to go looking for the people his working for (we know whos is seting up the payment any ways)
Though im guseing we would get more work from this.

>>1908157
>>Stand still and take the shots. You're far enough away that you'll take minor damage, assuming he can hit a target at a hundred yards. Then shoot him.

>>1908157
>>You need a prisoner, he'll make do. Assault the enemy and 'dodge' till you're in melee range to knock him down.
I don't want to take the shots

>>1908206
Itl harden her up.
And no she might want to find out y people are wanting to do this

>>1908157
>Stand still and take the shots. You're far enough away that you'll take minor damage, assuming he can hit a target at a hundred yards. Then shoot him
Time for a good single shot. Right eye

>>1908157
>You need a prisoner, he'll make do. Assault the enemy and 'dodge' till you're in melee range to knock him down.

Nothing bad can happen from taking him alive. You can always kill him later.

>>1908157
>Stand still and take the shots. You're far enough away that you'll take minor damage, assuming he can hit a target at a hundred yards. Then shoot him.
I'll tiebreak.

Time for a roll of the dice.

Rolled 58, 80, 69, 1, 76 = 284 (5d100)

>>1908650

and fucking thing. Come on.

>>1908658
Well i guess at least two of his shot hit us.

Rolled 62, 45, 28, 1, 52 = 188 (5d100)

>>1908650

>>1908658
>>1908690
Dem ones.

>>1908703

Yeah, same spot too. That must mean something but I gotta write.

>>1908157

You stand your ground as he fires carelessly one-handed while dragging the Princess and himself away from you. Not the smartest combo, but he does land several bullets around your torso. It's at most nothing major aside from one managing to sting your left shoulder.

It isn't until you realize something worse than getting shot had occurred when you try puffing your pipe, only to find plain stuffy indoor air. In addition, you feel a burning sensation and blood rolling down your right cheek. When you feel your cheek, there's minor soot and blood mixed with fragments of your smoking pipe.

There's no hole, only a scratch or cut depending on how you put it, thankfully. But overall, you've been hit, let the Princess get captured, and now you lost your pipe, today isn't cricket now is it?

You spit out the remains of the pipe in your mouth and bring the rifle to bear right at the fucker's head. His keeping madly pulling the trigger as more panic sweeps away his decision-making skills. It's so bad that the Princess is able to free herself by kicking his foot and couching out of his arms to run away, and in good timing too. One moment you see his confused face, and after a trigger pull you see the back of his head explode and his body slumps to the floor.

Target is dead. You check up, down, left, right and behind, all is quiet aside from some weeping and the soldiers moving around. You keep your guard up, you may never know what will happen and it's best to still be ready, and so you walk down the trashed gallery.

When you're near the Princess, you make out some words from her crying friend, possibly the one that got slapped away, “Princess! I'm so sorry I didn't help you. Are you alright?”

“I'm alright, Beatrice. It's okay.” The Princess has a meeker faux smile when she looks away from her friend and looks at you.

You see her mouth move but she's soon overtaken by nobles and bodyguards saying crap like,“Oh Princess, we're so sorry we didn't act in time.”
“Please, forgive us.”
“Highness, you should go to the Queen, it's much safer.”
“Yes, it's much more safer there.”
“Come, we should go.”

“Ah, please, wait a moment!” For whatever reason, you gather she wants to talk to you. Otherwise, you look among the people for the other wards but they're not there. Well, you saw that they were fine earlier and not much time has passed since then.

Cont.

God dammit our fucking pipe!! Well at least we should check on the others then get back to the car and patch us up a little.

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>>1908903

Standing over the kidnapper's corpse, you unceremoniously loot his revolver, holster, spare change and ammunition in a quick fashion. During your search, you find that you were correct in your previous statement in angering the man when you find a photo of his family. It's himself, wife you guess, two daughters, a dog, pretty old. You leave it on him and start heading to the front entrance, blood dripping from your wound still.

On the way, you loot the bodies you come across, in part from the lessons you learn in previous conflicts. You snag two more revolvers and a sawn-off coach gun, plus ammo and accessories. As you basically pillage the corpses, you discover these robbers were extremely under supplied by ammo. It's just ammunition in the gun then maybe an extra or two in their pockets.

Possibly, they weren't expecting resistance. Or they're more of them. Still outside is quiet, and none of the guards are yelling hell. Are things fine?

>Stand guard at the entrance alone. Honestly, at this point, you're the one pulling most the firepower. Something might be amiss.
>Fix your face. How unsightly, being wounded. Also, your left contact is starting to dry your eye now so you need to remove it and put back your eye patch. The side effect of getting Cavorite poisoning in the past. It's just your left eye, not your right.
>Get the Princess and her friends and get the fuck out. You're done slaughtering for today, they're not paying you by the body. That sure would be nice though.
>Get some soldiers to watch over the entrance while you clean up and get a little drunk, not too much. You darn well deserve that.
>Maybe do something else? Write-in.

>>1908962
>Fix your face. How unsightly, being wounded. Also, your left contact is starting to dry your eye now so you need to remove it and put back your eye patch. The side effect of getting Cavorite poisoning in the past. It's just your left eye, not your right.

>>1908962
>Fix your face. How unsightly, being wounded. Also, your left contact is starting to dry your eye now so you need to remove it and put back your eye patch. The side effect of getting Cavorite poisoning in the past. It's just your left eye, not your right.

>>1908962
>Fix your face. How unsightly, being wounded. Also, your left contact is starting to dry your eye now so you need to remove it and put back your eye patch. The side effect of getting Cavorite poisoning in the past. It's just your left eye, not your right.
>Get the Princess and her friends and get the fuck out. You're done slaughtering for today, they're not paying you by the body. That sure would be nice though.
Oh hell yeah, we've got an eyepatch.

>>1908962
>>Get some soldiers to watch over the entrance while you clean up and get a little drunk, not too much. You darn well deserve that.

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>>1908962

For one thing, the right side of your face isn't and your left eye is feeling dry and beginning to twitch reflexively. You need something to cleanse your face with, ah, vodka will do. Laying your rifle aside and sitting your butt on the pool table, you douse your wound and more or less your entire head with half of the bottle's contents. It stings the wound but not enough for you to make a sound from the discomfort.

You wash your mouth with the drink before tossing the bottle and its remaining contents over to the entrance. The crackle it makes startles some of the people and they glare at you once they realize that nothing's amiss.

As for a bandage, hmm, you'll just cut a piece of your sleeve and use that. To hold it in place, you'll use your eye patch's strap. It'll be tight but you can deal with... oh your strap is adjustable. How could you forget? As for the end of your contact lens, you dispose of it by crushing it using the heavy vodka bottle against the card table. You... feel... freer... the restraints are gone...

The voice speaks.... MADNESS.

“Um, excuse me.” Major Yngwi. “The Royal family is being moved to the third floor.” Age, 39. “Also, your presence has been asked by the Princess and the Queen herself.” Unnecessary.

Your information is more... perfect. You hear the signs of the guard and police coming! YOU KNOW THE SPIES OF THE COMMONWEALTH ARE HERE. YOU KNOW NORMANDY'S GUARD ARE ON THEIR WAY. THE LAST REMNANTS OF THE REBELLIOUS HEADHUNTERS LIE DYING IN FRONT OF THE GATE. THEY FUCKED UP.

Ones... that.... are... faking.... death... lie...
Picnic... Panic... FEAR... effective tool for.... Pressure to maintain...
Cavorite systems... Fire... Ineffective... Ambush.... Africa.... Spice must...

“Are you alright?” ANGE... comes.... to.... you... with a question...

You must come back to here, this moment, not before, not later. Reinforcements have arrived outside and are sweeping the perimeter. Execute. Execute. You rub your cold face, it's stiffer than normal. This is normal. You point to the entrance and on cue, several shots come from the police finishing the ones outside.

“More of them!?” The Major's shout alarms the people behind.

As he's about to raise his service revolver, you put your hand on it and respond dully with, “Police.”

“Huh?”

The front entrance is stormed by the Bobbies shouting, “POLICE! What the hell?” They found the man the fell. “Hello?”

They need confirmation or they'll start preparing for a fight that's already over. “Glory to the Kingdom! For we have triumphed. Clear the way! We need to get the Royals out!”

Cont.

>>1909999

Several of the officers walk on up and discover, to their surprise, the outcome of a poor robber/assassination attempt. You step off, retrieving your rifle and walking over whatever mess is on the way to the exit. The police don't bother you when you leave, as do the armed soldiers outside.

Good... Conroy has moved the car in reaction to the explosion. Car is safe. We have backup smokes should the unfortunate chance our pipe has been lost.

Ah, you hate normal cigarettes, they burn too fast for your liking. But if it'll stop your madness from taking hold. On the street, the other automobiles at the entrance have taken bullets and shrapnel. Oh, and more bodies are out here, like ten but it's probably more.

It's twenty, accounting both innocents and the rebels.
Don't do it! Let the information be known! Nothing will be hidden!

Yeah, but it fucking gives you a mad headache anymore than a minute. Like right the hell now, you feel your temple pressing your brain and is damn hurting.

Smokes are in the car compartment.

Bloody fantastic. By your crazed mind, you walk into the dark garden and knock right where the car is and spook the soul of Conroy out of his body. “AAAAAAAAAAHHHHH, oh, oh, it's you. Oh! Is everything okay? What happened inside?”

>Say some shit in Russian to confuse him for no reason but to troll him. Then in English tell him to move the car forward since it's safe now. Wait till the police are done with Princess, blah blah stuff. Take them home the safest path.
>Tell him to get out of the driver's spot so you can park the car so it's easier for the Princess and her friends to get in. Double time it home.
>... You're going home. Conroy can handle it from here. Done. Done with this! Loot the bodies.
>Loot the bodies. Every one of them. You don't give a shit what others think of you, you mostly want the guns, ammo, and money.
>”Read it in tomorrow's newspaper.” Sit, smoke, and take the scenic route. Go easy on yourself and the car.

>>1910005
>Tell him to move the car forward since it's safe now. Wait till the police are done with Princess. ”Read it in tomorrow's newspaper.” Sit, smoke, and take the scenic route. Go easy on yourself and the car.

>>1910005
>Say some shit in Russian to confuse him for no reason but to troll him. Then in English tell him to move the car forward since it's safe now. Wait till the police are done with Princess, blah blah stuff. Take them home the safest path.

>>1910005
>Tell him to move the car forward since it's safe now. Wait till the police are done with Princess. ”Read it in tomorrow's newspaper.” Sit, smoke, and take the scenic route. Go easy on yourself and the car.

Get your shit together hombre

>>1910005
>>Tell him to get out of the driver's spot so you can park the car so it's easier for the Princess and her friends to get in. Double time it home.

>>1910005
>>Say some shit in Russian to confuse him for no reason but to troll him. Then in English tell him to move the car forward since it's safe now. Wait till the police are done with Princess, blah blah stuff. Take them home the safest path.

Why do I get the feeling that Browning would fit right in with the LXG?

>>1910005
>Say some shit in Russian to confuse him for no reason but to troll him. Then in English tell him to move the car forward since it's safe now. Wait till the police are done with Princess, blah blah stuff. Take them home the safest path.

Rolled 1 (1d2)

ah, a tie but more or less it's the safe path.

1. Relax
2. Troll

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>>1910005

“Kid, move the car up, and don't hit anyone.” You point at a clear section on the road that's in the light and not within 10 feet of a body part.

“R-right.” You hang on the side, holding onto the roof and standing on the side platform as Conroy eases the car forward. Some of the police and soldiers give you suspicious stares until the car is parked and no longer making any noise and they go on about their business. You jump into the passenger seat, lighting up a cigarette and put your feet over the hood. “So, what happened in there?”

“Read it in tomorrow's newspaper.” You puff and slowly feel your mind clear up and the pain subsides.

“Oh. Then want to know what happened out here?”

You eye the burnt out truck stuck against a scarred piece of stone formerly a pillar, “Oh, I can tell from the explosion and bodies. Good job, moving the car I mean.”

“Huh? Y-yeah. So your face-”

“Tell me when you see the Princess, I'll drive us back.” You say as you pack up most of your weapons back to the bag. After that, you close your eyes, knowing it'll take a while for the police to question and investigate these circumstances.

…

You can feel your body being shaken rather roughly with a voice saying, “Browning! Browning! Wake up!”

“I'm up. G-go. Greetings, blah, whatever.” You scratch what flakes are in your eye and slide over to the driver's seat when Conroy is out.

“Princess! Welcome back!” Conroy addresses her Highness accompanied with her friends, all looking well as much as the situation can allow.

“Yes, thank you. Again, it looks like I'm a bother in being late once more.” She together with her companions, curtsy in apology for a situation out of their control.

“It's no problem, Princess! We're here at your service to you and your friends!” Awkwardly Conroy opens the cabin doors and lets the girls in. They're in, you drive, then exit past the police barricade and take the scenic route, one that'll bypass most of the city innards.

“Listen, do you mind if we take the scenic route back to your school? It's to avoid traffic in the city. And it's also a good view of the city.” You pose it as a question even though you aren't negotiating or changing course.

“That sounds nice. I suppose it doesn't matter if we're already after curfew.” She's surprisingly okay with it, huh.

“Princess...” Ange's expression seems grim.

“Hm? What is it, Ange?”

“Eh, never mind. It's fine.”

Cont.

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>>1910596

It's a long drive. It took, what, thirty minutes to and from with you going berserk through traffic. Now, it's almost an hour. Initially, the girls and Conroy were talking amicably, eventually, they ran out of things to say and only the sound of the wind and car is enduring. Not help by the fact you were quiet and were avoiding any sort of talk so you could concentrate on the slick road.

Near the end of the trip, the Princess knocks on the glass to get your attention. Conroy opens up the window while you slow down so she can speak clearly, “Hey! There's this little bakery around here that usually still open at this time. Could we please go there?” She also gives your the general directions to it.

You check your watch, it's 9:21 PM. Fuel gauge is still acceptable and nothing has tried to kill you.

>What the hell, sure. You'll go to the store. You could actually go for food, you haven't eaten since lunch.
>Really digress that it is late and add the fact that you still need to return home. Is it possible that you don't visit this store.
>OH FUCK OH SHIT THE STORE SHE SAID IN THE FRONT TO YOUR HIDEOUT FUCK SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT!!!

>>1910655
>What the hell, sure. You'll go to the store. You could actually go for food, you haven't eaten since lunch

>>1910655
>>What the hell, sure. You'll go to the store. You could actually go for food, you haven't eaten since lunch.

>>1910655
>What the hell, sure. You'll go to the store. You could actually go for food, you haven't eaten since lunch.

Then panic internaly

>OH FUCK OH SHIT THE STORE SHE SAID IN THE FRONT TO YOUR HIDEOUT FUCK SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT!!!

>>1910655
>>OH FUCK OH SHIT THE STORE SHE SAID IN THE FRONT TO YOUR HIDEOUT FUCK SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT!!!

It looks like yes to going but...

Last call.

>It is your home.
>It's not your home

>>1911306
Its a home away from home

>>1911306
May as well have it be our home.

>>1911306
>It is your home.

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>>1910655

“I can make it happen.” Is your reflexive answer that comes out of your mouth, one mostly made from the lack of food in your stomach. But when you think about the information, you slowly come to realize that the place is one that you're staying in London for the time being.

“Wonderful!” The Princess beams and turns to her friends to tell her the readjustments to your plan.

You glance at Conroy, who has the look of absolute terror on his face. “Browning-”

“I know. But it's late, and maybe everyone's asleep. If not, hopefully, the kids are.” Hope, you really don't hope that often. It's a ten-minute drive to the Flowery Bakery, legally part Bakery, florist, and orphanage, it's a the office to Jackal's smuggling operations as well as a Fence. You're also a tenant to the five-story building, living in a partitioned attic.

“This is it! How lucky, it's still opened!” The Princess exclaims when you stop at the bright entrance. Looking inside, Mr. Paige, the florist, and Mr. Something-ski, the Baker and is Polish, are cleaning up the shop with no other customers present. Okay, it might work if you can signal them to not know you.

“Conroy.” You whisper.

“Yeah?”

“You can go home, alright? Get me?” You motion with your hands, back door, upstairs and watch the kids.

“Yeah.” Good kid.

Cont.

>>1911716

You both exit the car, Conroy going to the back whereas you open the cabin door for the ladies. “Hm? Where is Conroy going off to?”

“He happens to live nearby with his family. I sent him home given the hour.” You half-truth to the Princess and others.

“I see. Again, we're terribly sorry for taking up more of your time and what happened back at the event.” Now that you think about it, how come the Princess and her friends freaking out over dead bodies. The only answer would be, this isn't new to them.

That's not a good implication of one's past. Then again, same to you. At the bakery's door, you let them in as they chat about picking what to eat or drink.

“Oh, what a surprise this night. Welcome back Princess.” Mr. Paige, the short, wrinkly bald man greets them happily. “And Ange, and Dorothy, Beatrice, and Chise. You all look wonderful in your dresses.”

“Thank you, Mr. Paige.” The girls say in unison.

The old man smiles before turning to the chief and yelling, “Bykowski!”

“I can see just fine, Kevin. A good night to you ladies. Table for five?” You can't see him, but you can hear the big Polish man and his deep voice clearly.

“For six please.” The Princess' reply confuses the two, it's when you come in from behind the girls and motion that the two don't know you.

But what you don't anticipate is Chise looking up and noticing your hand motions and asking, “Mr. Browning, why are you doing this and that with your hands?” It gets the attention of the other girls and you look dumb as hell.

>>1911725

Mr. Paige gives you stare of pity while Bykowski grins and holds back a chuckle when you wiggle your way past the girls and present yourself to the two owners. “Mr. Paige, Mr. Bykowski, I'm back.”

Paige nods to you before retiring to the kitchen, leaving Bykowski to greet you, “Hey, welcome back, Mentat. Working?”

“Still.”

“Ah, you know you have-” He points to the holes in your suit.”

“I know.”

“Well good! Cause remember back in Africa?” If you don't stop him now, he'll talk forever and Mrs. Bykowski isn't here to do it.

“Hey, Sergeant-” You imply the Princess and the customers and their needs rather than him focusing only on you.

“Oh, sorry, sorry. Forgive me, Princess, I barely see my junior here. Table for six. I'll be back to take your order, just let me put the kettle on.” He ducks into the kitchen, leaving you to deal with the fallout as best you can.

At the very least you say, “It's a title.”

>You're too embarrassed to even look at them. You don't remember much of your real parents, but you sure understand being embarrassed by someone of that nature. At least seat the girls at a table.
>Excuse yourself so you can change clothes. You're... okay, but you'd rather be comforted by having some not with holes in them. And discover you only have your old uniform and not a suit on hand.
>Seat the girls at the largest table and answer their less invasive questions about you and your old work.
>You're not so hungry now. Go to the basement. See Jackal and return the rifle and things you've taken from the casino. You'll go back up, eventually.

>>1911733

>Excuse yourself so you can change clothes. You're... okay, but you'd rather be comforted by having some not with holes in them. And discover you only have your old uniform and not a suit on hand.

>>1911733
>Seat the girls at the largest table and answer their less invasive questions about you and your old work.

>>1911733
>Seat the girls at the largest table and answer their less invasive questions about you and your old work.

>>1911733
>Seat the girls at the largest table and answer their less invasive questions about you and your old work.

>>1911733
>Other
Seat the girls and pointedly don't answer questions about our past. Announce that we will gladly field questions about tea, tobacco, and fashion.

>>1912641
This.

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>>1911733
>>Seat the girls at the largest table and answer their less invasive questions about you and your old work.

Wonder when the inevitable waifu wars start,
and is Ange IMPOSSIBLE MODE

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>>1911733

Eyeing the room, you know the booths are too small for the guests to fit and the really big table isn't out right now. You'll make do with rearranging the smaller ones together, that should be acceptable. “A moment, customers.”

You get to work arranging the nearest square tables, to which the Princess tries to protest, “Oh! You don't have to do that.”

But you're already finished with the arrangements and gesture to the chairs. “Come, sit.”

Her Highness turns to her friends, and there's some silent conversation before they come over, “If you so insist.”

“Our thanks, Mr. Driver.” Dorothy gives a half-hearted smile as do the other girls. Gentlemanly, you seat each young lady, but you don't take your seat.

Instead, you head over to the counter and prepare them the secret menu filled with custom options, drinks, and other confectioneries not show in public, “A menu should you need it.”

“There's a menu here?” Beatrice looks surprised, then more so when she opens it up to see breakfast, lunch, dinner and dessert options.

“I never heard of this before.” Unsurprising, since the menus are for workers or very, very, very, special guests.

“Oh! I'll have the best whiskey in the house! Oh, fish and chips too!” You take mental note of the order and return to the counter to prepare the drink. Now, that's in the liquor cabinet?

“Dorothy...”

“Relax partner, it's a good time for it too. Take a look, there's some really nice food here. Nothing like our school.”

“Onigri! Onigri please!” Okay, Chise, rice. Dorothy, fish and chips and whiskey.

“I think I'll try this pumpkin pie.” Pie for the Princess.

Not whiskey, not whiskey, there it is. “Want whipped cream with that?” You ask as you get the bottle out and two cups for it.

Cont.

>>1914448

“Yes!” Pumpkin pie with cream for the Princess.

“Ahhh, lemon pie for me please.” Lemon for Beatrice. “And Early Grey tea please.” And tea.

“I'll have the same tea.”

“As will I.” More tea orders from the Princess and Chise.

Oh, does Dorothy want her whiskey on the rocks? “Dorothy? Want it on the rocks?” Her face shows a moment of surprise, slowly turning to a mischievous grin and her silently nodding. You'll have to detour to the kitchen get the ice. And so you disappear from their sight, but only for a moment before you come back to inquire, “Ange? Do you want anything?”

“...” Her face is stone cold as the others look at her for being silent.

“...”

“I'll have what the Princess is having.” Now you duck back to the kitchen.

Inside, the kettle is simmering on the stove and Bykowski is washing the dishes. “Mentat? Hey hey hey, you seriously need to relax. Look, I'll handle-”

“Two pumpkin pies with whipped cream, lemon pie, rice balls, whiskey on ice, an order of fish and chips, and four Early Grey teas. Oh, fish and chips for me too.” You relay the order as you wash your hands and liquor glass, only stopping to dry them with a clean towel.

“... You okay, kid?” You give your Sergeant a shrug as an initial answer.

“Eh, could have gone better. I lost my pipe and got shot three times. Otherwise, I'm mad starving. Anything else you can read it in the paper tomorrow.” Finding the icebox, you fish out three cubes for Dorothy's glass, none for yourself thank you.

Cont.

>>1914469

Now you head back out, the room's the mood seems... off. You can sense there was a serious conversation for a moment, ending only by the timing of your arrival. Frankly, it's not your business, unless it involves you.

The drinks are poured, you helping yourself first to test the quality of the aged whiskey and it's just fine. Hm, very good. As you come over to their bunglingly mute table, you break the ice with, “Sorry, the easiest to serve gets theirs around here.”

You give Dorothy her glass, noticing her chest is more exposed, a tiny bit more if you think to any time prior. Doesn't get your heart racing, in fact, your back hairs are prickling. “Thank you. Cheers.”

You raise your glass and drink before walking back to the counter, only to be stopped by the Princess, “Mr. Browning, why don't you have a seat with us? We never had a chance to properly talk as with Mr. Conroy.”

“Only if it's about tea, tobacco or fashion. By the way, bullet holes are in and are a sign of manliness. I also heard girls think scars are cool. Any merit in that?” You say at upbeat as possible and upon thinking on it, you don't sound intelligent no matter how you put it.

“Pf, kek, haahahaha, what the hell? No way that's true.” Dorthy's smile and laughter is the break you need and it relaxes the others.

“In Japan, scars on samurai are a sign of bravery in battle.” Chise explains. That's... interesting?

“Personally, I think scars are horrible to have.” Beatrice comments as Bykowski comes in with tea and cups.

“Sorry ladies for being late. Your Early Greys.” You move aside so the chef can give the girl's their hot drink. He looks over to you rather annoyed by your manners, “Mentat, you're home. Sit, relax.”

“Once the job's done. You know how I can be.” With your limited life experience, you're a little off as much as you don't want to admit.

“Hmm, well, I'll be back with food. Enjoy.” He bows and makes his exit to the kitchen, looking over at you once during it.

“Mr. Browning?” You turn your head to the Princess, glancing over at Ange's frozen face peering at you. “May I ask about you? What is it that you do for a living?”

>”First answer, no. Second, odd man. That'll be all please.” End of discussion as it's not in the contract.
>”If you don't mind me lying.” Make up a believable story of you being an orphan here and being drafting into the Albion forces. Whether they believe you are of no consequence.
>”The answer to number two is, mercenary, baker, florist, plumber, driver, rifleman, and professional Gentleman, at the ready. And I suppose I answered number one.” No further detail will you give.
>”If I may ask, what do you want of me?” Leak out your suspicion about these 'noble' girls. What do they really want, or more to the point, what does the Princess want?

>>1914487
She's the princess so...

>”The answer to number two is, mercenary, baker, florist, plumber, driver, rifleman, and professional Gentleman, at the ready. And I suppose I answered number one.” No further detail will you give.

>>1914487
>>”The answer to number two is, mercenary, baker, florist, plumber, driver, rifleman, and professional Gentleman, at the ready. And I suppose I answered number one.” No further detail will you give.

>>1914487
>”The answer to number two is, I fix problems for money. And I suppose I answered number one.” No further detail will you give.

>>1914546
>>1915019
We're the Victorian steampunk Transporter.

>>1914487

You ponder if you should answer her questions and future ones. It may compromise you personally to be too well-acquainted with others and can backfire in a multitude of ways you can fathom and more.

May as well answer the current and ask to be paid for later ones. “The answer to number two is, mercenary, baker, florist, plumber, driver, rifleman, and professional Gentleman, at the ready. And I suppose I answered number one. Ah, no more questions unless you're willing to pay a shilling per question or have another contract lined-up with an inclusion of asking my past.”

Your answer bemuses the Princess but angers one of her cohorts, Beatrice. She glares at you and denounces you, “How rude! You're certainly been uncouth to-”

Her Highness intervenes her friend to calm down, “Now, now, Beatrice. I'm sure he has his reasons. And it's already interesting to be in the presence of a mercenary.”

You bring you smoke to your mouth but don't puff it, only smelling the burning leaves and paper for a second to come to the conclusion, “Well, to be fair, I'm boring and don't like talking about myself. Only the situations I'm in are worth anything of talk. Now, let's chat about something else. Or you all can and I'll shut my mouth to be less of a bore.” Right on time, Bykowski brings in some of the food for this late night tea party and you keep your word on being quiet.

Later on, you excuse yourself to work on the car until the girls are finally ready to head back to their academy. When you've confirmed them walking past the main gate, you head on back home for a good night's rest after your rough evening. Dreaming of nothing during the course of the night.

---

Cont.

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>>1915511

You wake up in your sparse but mostly clean attic room... on the floor in your armor briefs with pieces of yesterday's suit over the ground. Well, it's made of fine, layered silk and wasn't hit by a bullet and it's really comfortable, not like you have a problem with that. You look up to your crappy couch before getting up. As with every morning, you check the time from your watch, 10:12 AM, and wind up the springs inside.

Afterwards, you wash your body with a towel, before suiting up in middle-class plain shirt, pants, beret, with the soft silk body armor beneath it all. For your pocket pistol, the FN 1900 series will do.

For a moment, you look out of your balcony window and see nothing but fog and promptly go downstairs. It's a long five stories of stair walking, on the way some orphans are crying, playing and being themselves if they weren't sent out to work.

You reach the second floor when you hear a familiar voice, “Yo buddy, still alive?”

It's your battle-buddy of the past Pixy. “Too bad for you, you don't get what's in my will.”You turn around to look at your older friend. “How's business?”

“Eh, driving cargo isn't as much fun as flying cargo but it pays. By the way, letter for you. It's heavy.” He hands over a bulky envelope sealed by wax and a stamp.

“This better be pay.” You open it up and empty out the coins, quickly counting them and recalling the amount you're supposed to be paid. “Well, that's two weeks of work.”

“Nice. Got another job ready?”

“No...”

>Today, you're on vacation. Time to... well, shit what do you do when not working? You'll figure it out after breakfast.
>Ask Pixy if he has something high paying that he could use help on. Hopefully, it's not like yesterday. Oh, you suppose you could check on Conroy and the newspaper.
>Go to Jackal and see what contracts he has or knows of. You're number one arms dealer and agent.
>Roam around London. Pickpocket. Steal. Scout. Get used to the city some more. You've only been here slightly over a week.
>Write-in.

>>1915527
>Ask Pixy if he has something high paying that he could use help on. Hopefully, it's not like yesterday. Oh, you suppose you could check on Conroy and the newspaper.

What fid we do with the weapons we looted from the party? We may need to buy more ammo.

>>1915527
>>Today, you're on vacation. Time to... well, shit what do you do when not working? You'll figure it out after breakfast.
Go through the loot, practice some Oriental pugilistics with the wooden dummy on the corner, acquire some seven percent solution from the chemists for numbing the pain.

>>1915527
>>Today, you're on vacation. Time to... well, shit what do you do when not working? You'll figure it out after breakfast.

>>1915527
>>Today, you're on vacation. Time to... well, shit what do you do when not working? You'll figure it out after breakfast.

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>>1915527

“I was planning to take the day off.” You confess. Probably one of the rare times you say that, as most circumstances prevent you from ever taking one in the first place.

“Lucky you. Breakfast?”

Sounds great right now. “Yeah.” You both head to the employee room to eat away from the civilians and have access to the special menu. While you muse over what omelets to have, Pixy is getting ready for the day with some beer. “Really?”

He grins and gulps a quarter of it down before voicing, “Hey, I don't have work until three and it's just a bottle. Now tell me, how was yesterday?”

“Doable. Also, seen the paper?”

He shakes his head and looks to the paper rack, “Not yet. Why?”

“Well, I thought it might make the front page.” An attack on the casino, or something along those lines.

“Hang on. Be right back.” Pixy goes over to the rack and picks up one of the papers before heading back. “I'll be. Rebellious gangsters attack casino Royal family was visiting. One soldier nearly saves the lives of every guest there.” He flashes you the front drawing of an artist depiction of the fight, it being entirely wrong.

“Huh, thought as much.” You know, the meat and mushroom combo sounds okay today.

Meanwhile, Pixy keeps reading aloud some of the more interesting footnotes before moving on to more mundane items, “Several witnesses saw the fourth Princess held hostage but quick thinking led the taker being killed before harm could come to her. Huh. Looks some famous building is being demolished...” The two of you continue to chat about nothing interesting aside from future work before you head back to your room.

There, you look over your gun bag and some of your loot you illegally took but don't really give a shit about. Anyway, the small revolvers and their ammo are trash quality and can be sold to Jackal for some shillings. Honestly, you can't tell what's cordite ammo or black powder, you certainty smell both during the fight. You would not want to have them unless you could help it.

As for the sawn-off, that's a keeper as it's in 12 gauge and in decent condition. Sure, you'll lose out on engage foes at range, but it's concealable now and will ruin someone's day and life all at the same time.

Cont.

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>>1916349

Your Browning Automatic Rifle needs no words for its first combat sortie. However, the ammo it fires, the .30-06 cartridge, is rare in Albion, you should consider carefully when you deploy this weapon as the cost is likely to go up. Also, it's a prototype, it may have flaws that you've yet to experience.

And, uh, you stole some coin purses that were left by the dead and nobles. You have several problems, stealing while getting caught is generally not one of them.

You count the coins you'd gathered and your payment from the job and nod satisfactory. While doing so, you realize the envelope had a letter in it. You don't bother getting it out and resume recounting your crowns, shillings, and pennies in a moderate glee.

After that, you do some short and simple maintenance on your firearms. All is well. No one bothers you and nothing seems to be a problem in the city. Now, what else to do this day?

>Train. Nothing wrong with working up a sweat. Choose one. (CQC, Dodge/Block, Mechanics, Medicine, Pilot, Politics, Larceny, Firearms.)
>Go shopping! Illegal shopping. AKA go to the basement and meet the local salesperson or Jackal if he's there.
>Let the information flow... Knowledge is power, keep it and remember.
>Go outside for a walk. Maybe check the school before heading to a pud in the city. Or fuck the city and enjoy going somewhere green and not a steamy shithole.
>Illegal street racing? Illegal street racing. A good way to get killed and earn money. A local mafia is holding one, why not have some fun?
>Check out the job board. You're only looking and maybe there's something easy that you can do when out and about.
>Write-in. What's there do in London?

>>1916351
>Illegal street racing? Illegal street racing. A good way to get killed and earn money. A local mafia is holding one, why not have some fun?
[eurobeat plays in the distance]

>>1916351
As tempting as street racing is... yeah, fuck it, street racing.

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>>1916351
>>Train. Nothing wrong with working up a sweat. Choose one. (CQC, Dodge/Block, Mechanics, Medicine, Pilot, Politics, Larceny, Firearms.)

PUGILISM, I mean CQC.

>>1916351
>Go shopping! Illegal shopping. AKA go to the basement and meet the local salesperson or Jackal if he's there.

>>1916629
You know what, that image has convinced me. Swapping to support this.

>>1916351
Other:
Read the letter. It's time for the other shoe to drop.

I'm back. Finished with work, lucky no overtime.

Resuming in about an hour.

>>1918771
Urgh overtime sucks. Glad you are back QM

>>1918819

Worst is being on call and not knowing ahead of time. And that will probably happen next week.

>>1916351

You've got just the idea to cover most of your day. A fight. “Pixy! You, me, boxing. You drunk enough flyboy?”

Pixy's face shows a wicked smile on hearing your challenge, “Bring it ground pounder! I'll take you down like I always have. But at one, I just finished lunch.”

You look down at your clean plate, “Yeah, same here.” It may not have been a good decision to declare that right after lunch. “Nearby park alright? Being indoors generally sucks.”

“Sure. Barely anyone goes to that park.” The time and place are set, now you must get your gloves and try to recall your limited memories of boxing. It must have been a year since you've worn them. Hopefully, you can still throw punches or it'll end up bad real fast.

Like proper gentlemen, you both arrive five minutes before the arranged time and hash out some rules. No grappling, kicks, head strikes, strikes to the manly region, and some other nuances. The point is you both are not trying to kill each other and you both easily can do so.

“Right chap, you ready to kiss the dirt?” You heckle him and get into a balanced boxing stance.

“Oh, so says the old boy that's forgotten to run. Come, make the first throw.” He matches your taunt and stance.

Well, time for a jolly good brawl.

>First to fight! Rapid jabs and whatnot at his arms. Not the nicest thing to do, attacking a boxes only weapon and defenses.
>Hell no, you are not making the first punch. You want him to do the honor. He is the older man. Also, you want to counter him.
>Throw some initial weak punches and get a feel of Pixy. He fights differently when either tipsy or sober.
>Got something else in mind? Write-in.

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>>1918950

>>1918950
>Hell no, you are not making the first punch. You want him to do the honor. He is the older man. Also, you want to counter him.

>>1918950
>Hell no, you are not making the first punch. You want him to do the honor. He is the older man. Also, you want to counter him.

>>1918988
Sorry, I'll try to remember to take my name off next time.

Rolled 52, 76, 97 = 225 (3d100)

Okay fuckers, roll 1d100.

Rolled 44 (1d100)

>>1919196

Rolled 85 (1d100)

>>1919196

Rolled 88 (1d100)

>>1919196
>>1919196
Rolling

>>1918950

You calmly motion for him to make the first move with your fist. It is right after all to let an elder lead the way. That may have been a horrible idea in hindsight.

Pixy dashes swiftly from his starting position at twenty feet to your personal space in a second. Almost you were off-guard but you barely have enough reflexes to block a heavy left jab from him and take a few steps away from him.

Though it's not enough when he lashes some rapid strikes to your body that you have to block with both arms. You can't counter him when each hits connects and sends jolts that make jelly out of your arms to the point of numbness.

Yet, the smile on your face widens with each punch you take. In the past, you would have fallen over from such attacks and be out of the fight. Now, you're able to at least stand. And that opens up more options.

Hopping rearward, it gives you and Pixy a moment of peace as you share some bloodthirsty grins. “Nice! You usually never stand unless you're were against a wall!” You pant, refusing to say anything, and smack you gloves against each other for the signal, Bring it.

Again, Pixy charges, this time throwing a cross at your chest. This you deflect using your left hand and throw your first punch of the fight. No surprise to him or yourself, Pixy blocks it with his other fist that he held back. Then he hops back and tries a left-hand cross which you block but to his quickness, he uppercuts past your other hand and smacking your chest with enough force to make you recoil.

“First blood.” He declares as he goes back to the starting location.

“Yeah, yeah. Another round. Come on.” Right, when he's tipsy he's aggressive, really aggressive. Good at it too.

>Try again with the same tactic. You need to be faster, precise, with the stamina you held like the others during the African campaign.
>Another try. This time, charge. Full assault.
>Pick at his arms. He did so with yours and it cost you a round.
>Remove eye patch.
>Write-in. Change martial arts if you think you know of one.

>>1919463
>Pick at his arms. He did so with yours and it cost you a round.

>>1919463
>>Pick at his arms. He did so with yours and it cost you a round.

>>1919463
>Another try. This time, charge. Full assault.
>>Remove eye patch.

>>1919463
>Pick at his arms. He did so with yours and it cost you a round.

Removing our eye patch? Jesus we don't want to kill the guy he's our friend and this is just a spar.

Rolled 93, 46 = 139 (2d100)

Rollz them dice

1d100

Rolled 13 (1d100)

>>1919609

Rolled 74 (1d100)

>>1919609

Rolled 53 (1d100)

>>1919609
Man, your dice are hot tonight.

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>>1919463

Walking to your starting point, you stretch out your arms in an attempt to relieve some of the pain from the hits earlier. Lot of good that does but you feel somewhat better. Back at Pixy, he gestures that you can have the first strike, what a good guy.

You sprint to him, holding both your fists back up till you're in his space, where you jump and unleash a combo of uppercuts, each weaker than the last when they strike haphazardly over his arms.

Those punches do a number on him as they do to you, know you're certain that your fists are numb and your shoulder is crying out in pain the second Pixy counters with some weak jabs. You know they're weak but to your limbs, they hit like cricket bats.

In any event, you both trade blows with each other, block most of them, and keep at it for as long as possible. Eventually, though Pixy gets through your arms and strikes your chest with two jabs, making it two for two victories.

You still have a smile on your face when you place your ass to the ground and lie down to see the trees overhanging. “Okay... Haaaa... you got me.” You get your hands free of the boxing gloves and look over to the panting man.

“G-ghaood. Ow, my hands. Ha, ha, you... ah, good match.” He gives you a thumbs up while you both hear a surprising amount of clapping from your left side. The audience, they weren't there before.

“Good bout, lads!”
“Encore! Encore!”

Students, workers, and other folk seemed to have witnessed your second fight to their amusement. Such a wasted opportunity to earn some coins, that is when you see one of the orphans has prepared an over-sized top hat as a donation box. Judging by the fact it's brimming with pennies, that kid made the lottery.

“Heh, ah, I'm heading back. You made me work too much, Brown.”

“I'm not sorry.” Is your retort to your gratification. “I'll stay here. See you, Pixy.”

“You too. Don't stay outside for too long.” You wave him off as he leaves for the bakery. You lost, again. Fun times, for two out of practice contestants. You feel the sun's warm rays to your front while the cold ground to your back. It's very nice along with a low draft bringing in the scent of flowers and something else... it stinks.

It's only momentary but it gets you up where you see that foreigner from yesterday coming to you. “Many pardons! If you are inclined, may I spar with thee?” Chise asks of you, somehow not realizing the driver of yesterday though it could be because your hat managed to stay on your head throughout the fight.

>Absolutely NOT. You're done with fighting today. Time to go home and rest up.
>Uh, sure if it involves fists. If not, you ain't fighting and will take a walk in the park. By walk, you'll climb trees. Because you're a glutton for punishment.
>You see that wooden sword she has at her side. If she wants a melee, well, FINE. You'll go with...
>>-Wooden cane.
>>-Wooden baton.
>Write-in.

>>1920031
>You see that wooden sword she has at her side. If she wants a melee, well, FINE. You'll go with...
>>-Wooden cane.

>>1920056
This.

So, she doesn't recognise us? Lol.

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>>1920031
>>You see that wooden sword she has at her side. If she wants a melee, well, FINE. You'll go with...
>>>-Wooden cane.

>>1920159
This. Lots of schools of came fighting out there.

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Rolled 46, 79, 85, 16, 13, 64, 91 = 394 (7d100)

>>1920031

You get on your feet and whack off what dust or dirt managed to get on your clothes when you turn to Chise to tell her, “Very well.” Her face beams with excitement for a tick before some in the crowd jeers at her.

“Look! That Oriental thinks she can fight.”
“What a joke. Should be fun to watch her get beat.”
“We're about to watch some entertainment.”

While you care none for it, it's rather annoying to hear them insult the little girl. Inferiors will be inferiors you suppose. In the crowd, you pick out an older gentleman with a cane fitting to your size and it gives you an idea, “Hey, you there. May I borrow your cane?”

“Cane fighting?”
“Oh, ho, this'll be really good!”
“I'm betting on this.”

“Oh, sure.” You want to add the fact he might not get it back, but it's more interesting this way. With the borrowed cane in hand, you prepare for the fight by getting a feel for the cane. A few swipes at the air away from Chise and the people, nothing fancy.

“You're using a cane as a weapon? Most interesting!” Your opponent reveals her wooden sword. Nothing special as far as you can see aside from the unfamiliar stance she uses. Must be native to her homeland.

“Chise! What are you doing now!?” You hear Beatrice's voice from the student populace. There's movement behind the students caused by her trying to push her little frame through. But it's too late. You have tap Chise's sword. “Wait! Wait!”

It begins.

>FULL ATTACK! Your senses ring danger coming from this small one. She's dangerous.
>Full Defense! Block, dodge, counter if possible. Now this is a real fight!
>None of it matters! Just roll 1d100!

Rolled 4 (1d100)

>>1920388
>FULL ATTACK! Your senses ring danger coming from this small one. She's dangerous.

So uh... we physically can't win this. Okay.

>>1920388
>>Full Defense! Block, dodge, counter if possible. Now this is a real fight!

>>1920424
>So uh... we physically can't win this. Okay.

Doesn't mean you can't try.

>>1920427
And please roll or this will end horribly.

Rolled 35 (1d100)

>>1920427
>>1920447

Rolled 53 (1d100)

>>1920388
>Full Defense! Block, dodge, counter if possible. Now this is a real fight!

>>1920424
>>1920458
>>1920465
>92 vs 394
>inb4 MC dies

>>1920481

Chise wouldn't kill you. And it's the highest numbers. So 91 v 54 currently.

Rolled 94 (1d100)

>>1920499
It was a joke, QM. And 'currently'? Didn't we already have our three rolls? Are more rolls allowed? Rolling in case more rolls are allowed, because I might as well.

>>1920512

Technically for other voters, if they want to, which I encourage since the votes are low and I don't need to keep track of too many. And I don't count rerolls from the same ID or when I feel like it. If I do get more voters, this might change but for now, it is as is.

>>1920560
Yeah, that makes sense. Damn shame that 94 got wasted, though.

This is a good quest so far. Anime isn't my thing, but this is not-anime enough to not turn me off immediately, and I like the writing enough to stay.

>>1920574

I'm curious for all that are voting or reading, what's drawing your interests in this? Also, this'll probably be the last update for tonight. BRB in the morning.

>>1920598
I think I really enjoy quests where you bodyguard important people. Also I love the casually pipe-smoking English MC with great manners.

>>1920388
>Full Defense! Block, dodge, counter if possible. Now this is a real fight!


>>1920598
Prose, setting, main character. Know nothing about the source except had threads when episodes aired and the summary from wiki. Not bad QMing so far, given the odd typo so far.

Would love to vote more but my IP-range keeps getting banned.

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>>1920388
>Fight music insert

Every fiber of your body screams, WHAT IN THE HELL ARE YOU THINKING? Fun, for the most part. At least you think so. Time for another beating.

The audience chatter quiets down except for that one girl, the wind ceases to blow your clothes, your opponent is ready, you're at a low ready stance. Gesturing your left hand, you give her the chance like the honorable man you are.

Right as Beatrice yells out, "Chise!", the little foreigner darts faster than Pixy, but her sword is even faster and you barely react quick enough to block the series of horizontal slashes while you fall back for a breather.

But she's unrelenting to you, putting in some stabs along with the swipes to force you to react against her every attack with a block or a sidestep. Each time you do, you find your body in a worse posture each time, your legs aren't in sync with your upper body and you swear that's what she wants to have happened.

On realizing this, there's nothing you can do about it, aside from maybe full-blown leap to the ground but that would be poor sportsmanship. She's just too fast and strong, that's the more surprising thing. All her attacks are precise, never does her sword hit the dirt, either only air or you and most of the time it's you. You keep deflecting or evading Chise's barrage for one more minute, after that you feel the exhaustion of the three fights without rest to hit your arms the hardest.

You then opt to allow yourself to be defeated by jabbing at a small opening in her defense, anticipating that she'll counter your move. She does exactly that by shifting her body mere inches away from your strike and following up by slashing the back of your cane hand.

A temporary sharp pain and the force of her hit causes you to lose your grip on your weapon and the cane flies off a short distance in the direction of the crowd. It doesn't hit anyone fortunately but it does give them a decent scare and awe moment.

Rather than being some pleb and recoiling back, you return to an upright posture and look over your bleeding hand. A cut, only an inch long and not deep at all, along with bruises and blood, it's nothing too concerning.

Chise sheathes her weapon gracefully and humbly bows to you, “A fantastic match. I am overjoyed. Thank you.” You put a stiff upper lip as the pain and you trying to put pressure on the wound prevents you from saying anything. When she looks up, her face shows how horrified of what she's done. “Ah! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to draw blood! Uh, here!” She unties her necktie and presents it to you as a makeshift bandage.

>Accept her grace and tell her what an interesting way she fights.
>Stiff. Upper. Lip. Just nod and smile to her for the fight, get your boxing gloves, return the cane, and go home feeling pretty good. Tend to wound also.
>The pain has washed your fatigue away like a typhoon. You want more. Get cane and go left handed.
>>-Remove eye patch.
>Write-in.

>>1921719
>>Stiff. Upper. Lip. Just nod and smile to her for the fight, get your boxing gloves, return the cane, and go home feeling pretty good. Tend to wound also.

>>1921719
>Accept her grace and tell her what an interesting way she fights.
>>The pain has washed your fatigue away like a typhoon. You want more. Get cane and go left handed.
Let's not be a bitch, but it would be unseemly to not acknowledge the lady's grace in tending our wound.

>>1921719
>Stiff. Upper. Lip. Just nod and smile to her for the fight, get your boxing gloves, return the cane, and go home feeling pretty good. Tend to wound also.

>>1921719
>Accept her grace and tell her what an interesting way she fights.

Rolled 2 (1d2)

1=Stiff lip
2=HUmbly accept

>>1922942
Ah, snap. Was about to vote the other way, then the page refreshed. Ah well, both options work equally well for me. As long as we're supremely English about it.

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>>1921719

You present your hand over to her and she begins wrapping your wound with her small tie. Her medical skills are quite lacking, the ribbon isn't large enough to tie and cover your hand, but it's good enough as a temporary measure. “I'm truly sorry. Please-”

“It's fine.” You wiggle your injured hand to show you still have control of it, “So long I don't do anything to injure myself, it'll heal. I must say, girl, your fighting is most exquisite. From your native lands, I presume?”

Your politeness seems to surprise her, definitely not what she was expecting, “Ah, yes. It's from Japan.”

Japan, that's Asia, and near China, if you recall. “Though I myself am not much a sword fighter, I am glad to have a superb spar with a young warrior such as yourself.”

Your compliments throw Chise off that you can see her struggling to get her words out, “Oh, ah, I'm not sure what to say when you say that. How are your people suppose to reply?”

You're about to ask about her training when Beatrice intervenes by grabbing onto the Nippon warrior and pulling her away, “Chise, what have you done!? Sir, I'm very sorry! Please forgive her for not knowing how to duel properly and for hurting you. If you need amends, please, ask for Beatrice Lowther at Queen's Mayfair Acadamy. We need to go Chise.”

The orange-hair girl drags Chise is such ferocity that you're a little surprised and keep silent as they run off to the road. So that happened. You may as well go home and get proper care.

Cont.

>>1923191

After some minor business, it's dinner/supper time at the bakery, you're in the ramshackle orphan dining room sitting across Conroy, eating a sausage lettuce sandwich. Over at one section of the room, the old croon Mrs. Paige is disciplining some of the kids for pulling pranks or some other malarkey.

You eat your handmade ham, turkey, cheese sandwich when Conroy asks, “So... your hand okay?”

You bring up your properly bandaged hand up and grab your teacup to show him all is good. “Indeed, though I'll have to take it a little easy. How's the delivery job you got?”

“Eh, ha, not as exciting as yesterday so I'd say well for the most part. So, um, about-” You get the sense he wants to talk about how useless he was.

“Don't think about what occurred in the casino. You survived, and sometimes that's all that matters. So long as you don't get questioned and implicate anything it's best to never speak of it like you were there. Leave it to the detectives, it's not on us, ol' boy. So take the money, save it, spend it, it's only money. Cheers.” You bring your cup to him and he gets his.

“Cheers.” You click together the wooden cups and drink. The night is young and much can be done in a city of steam and lights.

>Illegal street racing time. Now, darker and more steamy in the streets of London.
>Ah, early to bed, early to rise. And that means faster to get a good paying job.
>So... Beatrice Lowther said to come if you wanted compensation. And a wound infection certainty is possible. Money time.
>>-Rather than being normal, infiltrate the school. It'll be a surprise and also good to improve your sneaking skills.
>Walking to the pud! Walking to the Winchester! Gonna get drunk at night!
>Write-in. Like, go to a brothel, gambling den, underground things, etc.

>>1923195
>Walking to the pud! Walking to the Winchester! Gonna get drunk at night!
Might as well have some fun.

>>1923195
>>Walking to the pud! Walking to the Winchester! Gonna get drunk at night!

>>1923195
>Write-in: There was a letter in the envelop we received from Pixye let's see what that was.

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>>1923195

Walking to the pud! You're drunk enough to not say pub! In the Winchester! Dunk tonight! You can't mentally sing for shit and it's good that it's only in your head or the other patrons might attempt to beat your ass.

You're drinking some fine glass of gin along with glazed lamb chops as a side. All by your lonesome. And you haven't killed anyone today! That is good! Cheers to you! A quarter left of a bottle to go!

Right though, you're not super wasted by the alcohol, only a little bit. And if your thoughts are coherent, yesterday you didn't get drunk. Today, you can! Hurrah! Logic!

And no voices to tell you otherwise. Da na na, na? Eh? What song are you thinking of? Huh? A shadow? Who shadow? What is in front of you? Pixy? “~Hello~ Pixy!” His mouth areas go up and down and you can't hear anything, “I can't understand a word you're saying. How funny is that?”

Eventually, tired of your drunkenness, he pulls you from your seat, but not before you quickly nab the gin bottle with you on the way out. The warm indoor atmosphere changes to the cold streets of London. Aw man, why you gotta be cold now?

Then you feel two slaps to your face and your eye patch is lifted. Immediately you smack his hand away and readjust your patch. Your feeling of euphoria ends and you're mostly brought back to the present. Your momentary rage for awakening the poison inside dissipates when you see your friend looking rough around the edges. “Pixy?”

“Mentat, I need your help. A package, one that was last, it got stolen. Turns out a gang knew about it and that it belonged to another gang or something. I got jumped. If you're not so drunk, can you help me?” That is a horrible situation to be in. Add to the fact Pixy got in the middle of what's next a gang war, not good if he does lose a package, he might get a penalty from his employer, if they know it was him.

“Help as in?”

“Anything. Advice, another gun. You know.” He leans next to his dented as fuck delivery car. It's missing all of the front lights, the glass is half broken and the

>Never leave a comrade to wither if you can help it. Assist in any manner you can. Share the gin too. You both will need it.
>After your dumb mistakes today, you're probably a liability to him. Tell him no and that he should forgo claiming the package. He's just a middleman, and fucking with middlemen is a big no-no. The thieves will get theirs soon enough.
>You'll help, but only if you get paid by Pixy's employer. Motivation is key to your ability to get things done. You won't accept money by Pixy, you doubt he even has enough.

>>1923746
>Never leave a comrade to wither if you can help it. Assist in any manner you can. Share the gin too. You both will need it.

>>1923746
>>Never leave a comrade to wither if you can help it. Assist in any manner you can. Share the gin too. You both will need it.

>>1923746
>Never leave a comrade to wither if you can help it. Assist in any manner you can. Share the gin too. You both will need it.

>Write in: If i refused i would probably have to deal with your ghost haunting me anyway.

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>>1923746

You hand the gin to him and take the passenger seat of his barely working car. “So, what do we know?”

Pixy sips the gin, wiping his mouth before answering, “The Elephants, the guy and girl gangs, they're the ones that wrecked my end shift.” You try recalling what info you have on that gang. They're... it's lost on you but you know they're notorious gangsters that are thieves for the most part. “ They probably took the box to one of their houses or maybe a warehouse.”

Right, it's coming back, the Elephants are two gangs that happen to share the name. One male-oriented, another female. At times they work together like how they screwed Pixy over with a smash and grab. Both are big underground players. “You know what houses to hit then?”

“I... think there might ten around where I got attacked. For sure there's five of them. Jackal or one of the other smugglers might know the real number but we'd have to drive back.”

“What are the chances of us finding one of their stolen cars? Anyway, I'm in. What guns you have here?”

“Pf, barely. Other than my side and the shotgun in the hidden compartment. Not counting that I only keep two magazines on me and whatever shells for the shotgun.”

The cards are stacked against you, that's good old jolly fortune for ya. “Give me a minute.” You say as you remove your eye patch and cover your eye with your hand as to not show the green glow to anyone.

Numbers, letters, no, no, no, no, box, package, focus, accurate and precision information, THERE THERE THERE THERE THERE THERE THERE THERE. YOU CAN SEE WHERE THEY ARE HOUSING IT. THE WAREHOUSE. THE GUARDS, MANY. THIRTY! THIRTY-THREE. FIGHTING YOUTHS COUNT. NO, MORE, OTHERS. THEY-

“Mentat?” Pixy's words bring you back to the present and you put the eye patch back on and start fumbling to get a smoke out as a headache starts setting in. With your new pipe, you slowly minimize what backlash the Cavorite poison generates and brain damage you get.

“W-warehouse. Lots of guards. It's there.” You grumble and reach for the gin to further erase the suffering. “I-I think... it's possible for us to do it quietly.” The jumble visions you receive you try shaking away to some success. “Okay, I wasn't thinking right. Ahh, my head.” Okay, think, think, think.

>The package is in a car. It's possible that you and Pixy and eliminate some of the guards and hijack the car and maybe another for an escape.
>You don't know specifically where the package is. But what you got was where EVERY single person in the compound is. You can search all you want after all of them are dead.
>What do you know? What do you really know? Haahahahahhahahahaha, the eyes SEEES yYYYoooOOuuuu. You see them too! HHHHHHHHHHHHEEEEEEEEEEEE HEEEEEEE HEE! THE MOON! MARS! Planet of Lizards!

>>1924243
>What do you know? What do you really know? Haahahahahhahahahaha, the eyes SEEES yYYYoooOOuuuu. You see them too! HHHHHHHHHHHHEEEEEEEEEEEE HEEEEEEE HEE! THE MOON! MARS! Planet of Lizards!

>>1924243
>The package is in a car. It's possible that you and Pixy and eliminate some of the guards and hijack the car and maybe another for an escape.

>What do you know? What do you really know? Haahahahahhahahahaha, the eyes SEEES yYYYoooOOuuuu. You see them too! HHHHHHHHHHHHEEEEEEEEEEEE HEEEEEEE HEE! THE MOON! MARS! Planet of Lizards!

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>>1924243
>>What do you know? What do you really know? Haahahahahhahahahaha, the eyes SEEES yYYYoooOOuuuu. You see them too! HHHHHHHHHHHHEEEEEEEEEEEE HEEEEEEE HEE! THE MOON! MARS! Planet of Lizards!

>>1924376
Cavorite poison is no joke.

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>>1924243

Something in your head twists, painfully. Like someone pinching your skin and add about a hundred times that inside your head on every single nerve. You drop the bottle and it spills over your pants before hitting the car floor. Reflexively you bend over, holding your head tightly as the pain rushes over you nonstop.

Pixy says some words but you're unable to register any of them. THUMP, that's your heart, loud, powered, live.

AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND ANDAND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND AND-

WE LOST CONTROL! WE NEED MORE CONTROL.MORE SOUL. MORE BODY.

With... that... sanity... you.... have... Pixy..., “Warehouse... third car... nearest to the main gate.” TaLk Weak. Grab, wood and metal grips, attached to the barrel with a diameter of roughly .32 inches, give to Pixy and the magazines.

RUN RUN RUN RUN RUN. You hit the cold stone ground due to failing to exit the automobile in an orderly manner. HA HA HA. RUN RUN RUN!

NO NO NO!

FREE FLOAT FLY. Like several picture stills all lined up, you see the ground moving further away from you, then the buildings, then London itself. When you sometimes can feel, body, send, info... air is CoLD. FREEZE. Icy. WINDY.

THE GLOW IS HERE.

NOW, NO MORE. HA HA HA HA HA!

London is coming closer. You're falling down. Falling down. Falling down. Falling down. Down Down Down.

SPLAT!

Cont.

>>1924243
>You don't know specifically where the package is. But what you got was where EVERY single person in the compound is. You can search all you want after all of them are dead

>>1924603
Well that was exciting.

>>1924603
The pain is gone.

Your eyes are shut tight, the darkness isn't comforting, but you can hear the sounds of distant cars, voices, the sound of steam works present around you. Behind, you can sense two things to your back, the cold hard floor, maybe steel and stone, and something wet and warm.

When your eyes finally open, the night's sky is brimming with steam clouds and normal ones, the moon and stars hidden. First thing, the area around you is much different than you recall. It's a roof of a warehouse, you're near one of the skylights to the storage area. Elsewhere are working chimney stacks and the brick rails around the roof. You think you can see entrances leading to staircases and maybe a door from where you are.

Assuming your memory is somewhat right, you were in the car with Pixy. Oh, yeah, you had a thing happen. That was, in a severe understatement, a good time for nobody.

Checking yourself, there's nothing wrong aside from the wound on your right hand seemed to have bleed but has clotted up now. The back of your head also has blood, yet no wound. Turning around, you see two mashed up bodies lying partially on each other. When you mean mashed up, you really mean you can't tell if they were one or two, the only hint is the two pairs of bloody shoes and two revolvers.

Anyhow, you wipe what blood off you can and take both guns. Next, you silently walk to one of the ledge corners to understand your new surroundings. Looking below, it's somewhat busy with workers pulling items from trucks to be stored or putting things onto trucks in a loading area.

Judging the distance between you and the lowest point, you suppose you're three or four stories up. Also to note are some foreman and sentries posted, a few standing still but most are patrolling in and out of the building. Easy to tell since they're carrying two-handed guns, maybe shotguns or rifles.

You are sure to circle the roof and find it clear of hostiles before continuing watching the low area. It's more the same, except... THE PACKAGE IS IN THE THIRD CAR FROM THE MAIN GATE. A pain grips the sides of your head, thankfully it goes away almost immediately and you can focus again. You certainly aren't fit to fight. You need to be smart. You need to...

>Try to find a way to the bottom floor without getting noticed. Used what shadows and objects to hide from the enemy. Silence is important.
>You need a disguise, it'll help letting you move around the building. Also, you do need new clothes. You stink of alcohol and blood, not a good combo.
>Sometimes, when life gives you crazy, GO CRAZY. You... sense an explosive presence. Gangsters are keeping packaged black powder inside. It would be a shame if it had a controlled denotation.
>Sometimes, the world needs to pay for Cavorite being what it is. Killing Spree.
>Maybe you shouldn't do anything if the voice in your head... nevermind. Just, rest your body for an hour at most so you can go and do your next plan without being tired.

Last update tonight, possibly no update tomorrow or Tuesday either due to scheduled work. So speculate, shitpost, see you all then.

>>1924679
>Try to find a way to the bottom floor without getting noticed. Used what shadows and objects to hide from the enemy. Silence is important.

Dam i hope we didn't kill Pixy

>>1924679
>You need a disguise, it'll help letting you move around the building. Also, you do need new clothes. You stink of alcohol and blood, not a good combo.

>>1924679
>Sometimes, the world needs to pay for Cavorite being what it is. Killing Spree.

>>1924679
>Try to find a way to the bottom floor without getting noticed. Used what shadows and objects to hide from the enemy. Silence is important.

Rolled 51 + 5 (1d100 + 5)

A roll, yes, a roll. Come!

1d100+0

>>1926868

Huh, that should have been a -. That's -5. So 46.

Rolled 34 (1d100)

>>1926868

Rolled 91 (1d100)

>>1926868

Rolled 61 (1d100)

>>1926868

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>>1924679

While you memorize the routines of the patrols, you get an impression that a neutral party is watching over this area. Not you specifically, but the warehouse. You smack your face to clear such suspicious for a moment, you really need to find hiding spots and cover.

There's some piled up crates close to another building near the parking lot, an ideal place but getting over there is impossible as there's no car or thing in the way of the sentries. The only way would be to fly over there.

THE DOOR.

Your ears pick up a muffled creak of a door opening from below. You look to the bodies and consider that keeping silent would be the optimal choice. You get close to the roof door, sweeping away some of the messy flesh enough that it won't be the first thing in sight. Soon enough, a big someone swings the door wide and comes out with his rifle.

“Chad. Loren. Break time.” You hastily peek inside the door to be sure no one else came up. “What the?” You gently close the door as he's distracted for a fatal second by the mess, then you sweep his legs and cause him to drop to the ground. Shortly after, you do your best to get back up, failing for the most part, but you stomp the back of his head and that gives you enough milliseconds to grab his rifle on the floor.

Then you plunge a knee straight to his throat with all your body mass you can put to either strangle or choke him. It's not enough, as he struggles to displace you. In that moment, you decide to bring the rear stock as high as you can to pummel that man's temple. A mighty crack comes from the hit but you can hear him groan in agony and continue to try something else and you bash him again, this time crushing his eye region. And AGAIN AGAIN AGAIN.

“D-dammit.” You huff and puff for a short time before you snatch what valuables the corpse has, a hidden holster and derringer, coins, .303 ammo and his beret that manage to fly away in a not dirty position. The beret you took because you somehow in the interim lost your cap and a proper Gentle has proper headgear for any occasion.

You really wish you weren't here, possibly over by the shed. IT WILL BE DONE. You blink and blink one more time. At first, you were on the roof and now you're against the pavement with some men talking to each other too close for comfort.

Cont.

Sorry, that's all for tonight. Have to sleep early.

>>1927311
Thanks for running, even if only briefly. Sleep well QM.

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>>1927285

You hold your breath instinctively, in both trying to avoid detection and the horrendous smell in this shitfest alley that you're in. They're just beyond the crates behind you,“I can't believe Donny boy manage to swipe that noble's purse. Ya think with all them police around he'd get caught.”

“Bah, that's nothing. Jack and his team swiped an important something from one of the delivery peoples. It was addressed to one of our rivals.”

“Which one?”

“Eh, fucker didn't say a word. Said only the chief should know.”

“Could be full of nothing, dumbass.”

“Eh, it was heavy. I know, I carried it.”

“So anyway, heard the police are cracking down-” You slowly walk away at this point of the conversation, cautious to not snap, break, or make any ruckus on the way out. Going through the L-shaped alley, you come out to the parked cars, right where you need to be.

You check the cars as you pass them by, noting the random amounts of stolen goods in each of them. Rum, clothing, jewelry, unidentifiable boxes, various shaped knickknacks. At the third car, you find what you're looking for, the little sigil marking it as one of your group's delivery boxes.

The doors are locked, not really an issue, as you're certain to find a way in...

>There's a trick to jimmy the lock open from the outside. Do that and bingo, you're in. Oh, you guess you'll hotwire the car and get the fuck out. In a hostile warehouse, with the gate closed and guarded. Well, you'll make it work out.
>Get inside the car and hide in the back. That way, when the driver comes, you'll surprise them with two loaded barrels facing his/her body. If the diver isn't so cooperative, they can just die. You'll do it after you're sure the car is away from the warehouse. And if more people enter the car, well, rampage.
>Your body is feeling, sluggish and pained. Must be from the Cavorite. You have to rest. Your best bet is hiding back in the alley. Preferably in the less smelly section. Look over what you got and maybe think of a different way of getting out.
>Steal back what's Pixy's and pray really hard that your insane half will allow you to escape from this place and back home.
>Maybe, there's something else possible here. Write-in.

>>1929949
>Get inside the car and hide in the back. That way, when the driver comes, you'll surprise them with two loaded barrels facing his/her body. If the diver isn't so cooperative, they can just die. You'll do it after you're sure the car is away from the warehouse. And if more people enter the car, well, rampage.

>>1929949
>>There's a trick to jimmy the lock open from the outside. Do that and bingo, you're in. Oh, you guess you'll hotwire the car and get the fuck out. In a hostile warehouse, with the gate closed and guarded. Well, you'll make it work out.

>>1929949
>Get inside the car and hide in the back. That way, when the driver comes, you'll surprise them with two loaded barrels facing his/her body. If the diver isn't so cooperative, they can just die. You'll do it after you're sure the car is away from the warehouse. And if more people enter the car, well, rampage.

Rolled 4 (1d5)

>>1929949

Rolling for your luck