id: 528
name: Warehouse Anon pt:2
author: TwFctr
date: 5th September 2021
text len: 45171
views: 95

Party 1: https://www.4binz.org/190

>there was a high pitch beep
>several slabs of concrete suddenly rose from the floor
>Lucy flinched, almost ripping a hole through the closest one
>I laughed a little
>Lucy turned to me with a sneer before putting her attention back down the range
>the buzzer rang again
>I looked at Lucy’s fingers
>they were twitching in anticipation
>there was silence for a few seconds
>an electric motor whirred beneath Lucy
>she looked down curiously for a second before a human silhouette suddenly popped right in front of her
>Lucy yanked on the trigger
>the shot took the paper target’s left shoulder off
>and it’s on
>the paper target fell down as others started appearing further away
>some moving and others partially covered by the slabs
>Lucy didn’t waste any more time
>she began putting targets down as fast as she could pull the trigger
>her speed was pretty great and her aim was good, but her shot placement was rather lacking
>still, a hit is a hit
>inevitably, a few of the slabs ended up catching some lead
>I remember when we first came to this range, I tried my best to not hit the slabs because they were so clean, and I didn’t want to be that retard who fucked them over
>I failed miserably, but we were relieved when we figured out that the slabs fix themselves after every round
>a hollow click suddenly pulled my attention back to the present
>Lucy’s shotgun had just ran dry
>without wasting a second, she turned her Benelli over and began shoving shells into it two by two
>when she couldn’t force in more, she turned it upside again and pulled on the bolt
>she took the next target’s head clean off
>then she punched a hole through the next next one’s chest
>she was lining the last silhouette up when suddenly more targets started popping back up renewed
>“oh god dammit, I forgot about that”
>“what you really thought I’d make it that easy?”
>“hey, it’s more things to shoot… I’m not complaining, it just surprised me”
>“heh…”

>time flew by
>and after about 2 dozen more targets down, the buzzer rang again, signaling the end of the round
>Lucy stood back and cleaned the sweat off her forehead
>I looked back to the range computer as it calculated Lucy’s performance
>it displayed a bunch of stats which I glazed over, only paying attention to the big numbers at the bottom of the screen
>7.8/10
>uh…
>“how did I do Anon?”
>“um, good…ish”
>“ish?”
>“7.8 out of 10”
>“oh…”
>“well, it’s not bad per se”
>“I know, but I’ve done better than that”
>“yeah but it’s your first time using that shotgun, right? maybe you haven’t gotten used to it yet”
>“hmm, I guess you’re right… practice makes perfect after all”
>“so you wanna go again?”
>“nah, your turn”
>“ok, just let me get my gun ready then”
>I started with something familiar, my sl8
>I pulled it out of the bag along with a few spare magazines which I lined up on the table
>Lucy began tapping buttons on the computer
>I looked down range waiting for her to finish programming the round
>the concrete slabs that worked as cover for the targets receded back into the floor
>the pieces that had been blown off melted into the floor, filling the cracks and chips that were left in the slabs
>it’s actually kinda cool to look at
>like an old windows screensaver
>“and done, I set it up so that the targets go down after only two shots”
>“right, two taps it is then”
>Lucy pressed the start button and the round proceeded as you would expect for a casual day
>I ended it with a score of 8.3 out of 10
>not my best but pretty ok
>I traded places with Lucy again
>this went on for the next few hours
>taking turns blasting targets and cracking jokes in between rounds
>it was pretty nice and relaxing
>every time Lucy finished a round with her new Benelli, her score improved a little
>she started to get a feel for it
>turns out her shots were going slightly off target because she swung the shotgun around like it weight… well, like it weight as much as a spas-12

>“man… that was fun”
>“yeah, I felt like some weight got lifted off my shoulders”
>“right, should we go to the run and gun course?”
>“don’t you want to try out your fancy new rifle?”
>“what? the 417? I don’t know…”
>“what do you mean you don’t know?”
>I looked down and scratched the back of my head
>“I’m scared…”
>“of what?”
>“trashing it… what if I screw up the paint? what if ding the dust cover? what if I-”
>“so it's too good to use huh?”
>“NO…! maybe…”
>Lucy puts her hands on my shoulder
>“Anon… that rifle made it to your hands after getting tossed around in a bag along with several other guns, and it’s fine… it’s a rifle, not a brand-new car”
>she moved her hand up and pinched my cheek
>how do I explain it her that it is like a new car to me?
>how do I do that without sounding like a retard?
>oh fuck
>I don’t think I'm linguistically proficient enough to do that
>ah screw it
>I can always cerakote the damn thing if I ding it up
>“fine, I’ll use it on the RnG course”
>“that’s my man!”
>Lucy gives me a playful tap in the shoulder
>“and I bet you’ll kill all the records with that thing too!”
>“alright alright, don't get too exited, I have to get used to it too… let’s go meet up with Mika”
>“we still got a few minutes before our sessions is due, want to get a coffee while we wait?”
>“sure, as long as you keep yourself under control, can’t have you snatching up my drinks again”
>I said as I scuffled up Lucy’s hair
>“aw that was one time Anon!”
>I laughed as I got back to packing our gear
>Lucy walked up to me pouting
>she had all her shotguns and ammo on her arms
>I was expecting her to pack her own stuff and help me carry it out
>instead, she pettily dumped them all on me
>seems packing and carrying her stuff is my punishment for that cheeky sting
>worth it

>just as we were about to leave the booth, a new prompt appeared on the range computer
>it read ‘would you like to take your best shots with you?’
>two buttons hovered under the message
>yes or no
>huh?
>I’ve never seen it do this before
>is this a new feature?
>out of curiosity, I pressed ‘yes’
>the screen turned white, and several pictures of the targets we had just shot at rolled in from the left of the frame
>“hey Lucy, come look at this”
>“hmm?”
>“look, it says here we can take our best groups with us”
>“ooh! is the one where I blew the thing’s head off there?”
>“uh… here it is! you wanna take it home?”
>“yesss, I’ll frame it up and hang it on a wall”
>“ha, alrighty then”
>I selected the target and a new message appeared
>‘please stand by, your memento is now making its way to you’
>a staff member knocked on the booth door
>he had the paper target rolled up on his hand
>Lucy opened the door for him, and he gave her the piece of paper
>“oh thank you sir”
>“mhmm”
>and then he left
>…ok?
>Lucy put away the rolled-up target on my bag and we headed out
>the RSOs waved us goodbye as we walked to the floor’s lobby
>the place had cleared up a bit since we arrived
>the patrons having moved to their booths or left after a good day of shooting
>we made our way to the café and sat on a small table for two
>a waitress came over and took our order
>I asked for a simple cup of coffee with cream
>Lucy chose an iced espresso
>as we waited for our brew, I looked around and noticed a couple of arcade machines sitting against the back wall of the joint
>one of which was a Stacker machine full of prizes
>hmmm
>“hey Lucy…”
>“yeah?”
>“I’m gonna go do something”
>“ok?”
>“wait here”
>I got up and walked right up to the cabinet with my wallet in hand
>the prizes on the machine consisted of handguns wrapped in gift paper
>minor prizes being small pocket pistols and majors being full sized handguns
>I recognized the silhouette of a major prize as a CZ 97B
>and. I. wanted. it.

>to my dismay, it looked like the machine only accepted the local coins
>I opened my wallet and say that I only had a couple of crumped up bills, my Balthazar card, and only two weird coins of virtuos
>how the fuck did these even get here?
>how much are these two coins worth anyway?
>I looked at the price again and realized the two coins were just enough to afford me a single play
>…
>well that’s convenient…
>I slid the coins into the slot and the machine lit up
>a bar made out of 3 blocks started moving across the screen
>right, here goes nothing
>I began slamming my fist on the only button the cabinet had
>stacking a tower as best I could
>loosing a single block before reaching the minor prize section
>fuck
>doesn’t matter
>I kept stacking
>each step up caused the bar to move faster and faster
>my concentration was now fully on the game
>sweat began forming on my brow
>the baristas were starting to look at me funny
>they didn’t understand
>my goal laid a mere three steps away from me
>my bar had shrunken to its last block automatically because this game is fucking rigged
>I pressed the button
>my block stood above the others proudly
>I pressed it again
>it slid off
>FUCK
>ON THE LAST FUCKING LEVEL
>I WILL FUCKING MURDER WHOEVER PROGRA-ooh wait I still got a prize
>a push rod kicked my reward from the rack where it stood and fell to the padded collection tray
>I stuck my arm in and pulled out a dinky little pistol wrapped in red gift paper
>well, for those two little coins, I think this is the best deal I’ve gotten on a gun in my entire life
>I walked back to our table
>Lucy looked at me puzzled
>“what was that about?”
>“what? oh! I went to play a game and won this tiny little thing”
>“oh, what is it?”
>“I dunno, let’s see”
>I tore the pistol out of its shiny foil prison
>it was a Beretta pico in tiffany blue + an extra mag taped to the grip
>“it’s uh… funny looking…”
>“well, I did get it for the dollar equivalent of I think like 75 cents so whatever”

>“hmmm”
>“do you want it?”
>“no thanks”
>“oh, ok”
>I just pocketed the dinky thing
>honestly, I didn’t want it either
>maybe I’ll give it to Naya, see if she likes it
>the waitress came back with our drinks
>Lucy moved her chair beside me and started showing online listings for shotgun related gadgets she wanted to buy and asking me for advice
>to be perfectly honest, most looked like chinesium crap
>so, we discussed (read: I lectured her) about how to not get scammed when online shopping while we drank our coffees
>thrilling I know
>but once we were done, we paid for our drinks and left
>and that’s when the trouble began
>as we rode the elevator down to the ground floor, I suddenly felt this nagging tension on the back of my head
>something bad was about to happen
>I became visibly uncomfortable
>“Anon, are you feeling well?”
>“I…”
>“are you sick?”
>“no… I just have a bad feeling”
>“uh what does that mean?”
>“I…”
>the elevator doors opened
>“l-look, Lucy… go meet up with Mika, I-I have to go check on something”
>“o-ok, are you sure you don’t want me to come with you?”
>“no”
>“oh… o-ok”
>Lucy walked off towards the run and gun courses
>I made my way to the front reception
>the clerk smiled as I approached the front desk
>“hello again sir, is there anything I can help you with?”
>I set down the bags on the counter
>“hey, sorry to bother but can you look after these for a few seconds”
>“oh, sure, no problem sir”
>“thank you, I’ll be back in a bit”
>I walked out the front door and to where I had parked our car
>lo and behold, my gut feeling was right
>there was a shitbag wearing motorcycle gear leaning against the driver side door
>he was peering in through the window and had a crowbar on his hand
>I clenched my teeth and reached for the CZ in my waistband
>slowly, I made my way behind him
>it seemed like his helmet limited his sight and hearing
>I grabbed him by the shoulders and yanked him to the ground
>“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING TO MY CAR?!”

>the fucker’s helmet clunked against the floor
>immediately he tried getting up
>slipping several times and swinging his crowbar wildly
>I believe he was trying to hit me but it looked more like autistic spasms than any form of aggression
>the sight was so retarded that I stood still out of confusion for a few seconds util he stopped flopping around like a fish with down syndrome
>when he finally stood, I just pointed my gun in his general direction
>this was enough to send him running away towards a fancy sports bike at the end of the lot
>“PEZZO DI MERDA”
>he shouted as he ran
>what the fuck?
>he jumped on his bike and was gone in a few seconds
>I turned around and saw a couple of security guards running towards me
>they probably heard the screams
>one of them shoves his shoulders up as if to ask what happened
>I say
>“English?”
>he nods
>“some dipshit tried to brake into my car, he ran away on a bike towards the city”
>“understood sir, we’ll inform the police and provide the security camera footage”
>“thank you”
>“I’m plenty sorry this happened in our premises sir, we’ll be looking into improving security in our parking lot”
>“yeah it’s… yeah… thanks”
>I put my pistol away and walked back inside
>at least that piece of shit didn’t get to do anything to my car
>thanks gut feeling
>wouldn’t have gone to check without you
>I walked over to the gun and run courses and looked for Lucy
>I found her sitting near the start of course
>she already had her safety equipment on and was talking to a tall old man
>that was Mika, our instructor
>a man we’ve become close to because of his kindness and clearness in training
>his hairs were white as snow, but his physique was admirable
>on exercises, he moved like a soldier
>and when he explained something, you understand it without issue
>“hey babe, ‘evening Mike”
>“good evening mister Anon, how’s your day been?”
>“kinda nice, someone just tried braking into our car though”
>“oh”
>Lucy looked to me shocked
>“what?!”

>“yeah, dude was looking into our car with a crowbar in his hands”
>“that sounds terrible Anon”
>“oh don’t worry about it Mika, all it took was a flash of my gun to send him running”
>Lucy stepped closer and started looking over every square inch of exposed skin on my body
>“but are you ok?”
>“me? I’m fine, just a little sour, it’s not exactly the type of interaction someone takes kindly to”
>“did he get away?”
>“yeah, he rode off on a bike while yelling at me in Italian”
>Lucy and Mika turned to each other with confused looks
>they didn’t say another word, but I understood
>they probably had the same question in mind as me
>that being what the fuck was that type of guy doing in this city?
>other non-humans like elves, goblins, and beast people, that I understand, this is their home world after all
>but Italians?!
>“l-look, let’s not dwell on it, everything is fine, the car is fine, security said they’d be contacting the police, let’s do some fucking shooting”
>“language”
>“sorry big Mike, let’s do some frigging shooting”
>“excellent, I have something special for you two today”
>and just like that, Mika had easily dropped the subject
>Lucy in the other hand, she remained somewhat worried
>probably more worried about me than the car, but I don’t mind that she cares about me
>Mika walked us over to an elevated platform that oversaw the entirety of the course
>the intention of the club is to sharpen the shooter’s reflexes and coordination, instead of having them rely on muscle memory to get through the course
>so the route and position of the targets gets changed every couple of days
>easy thing to do when most of the course is made out of empty steel drums, crates and pieces of drywall propped up by sticks
>it’s a bit of a pain but at least the skills acquired here are probably better for an actual battle
>probably…
>hopefully…
>“you want to go first Anon?”
>“I don’t know, how about you take the first turn?”
>“Anon…”
>“aw fine… I'll use the friggin rifle”

>Lucy reached into a bag and pulled out the 417 along with three extra magazines
>“here’s your gun…”
>“thanks”
>Lucy hooked a pair of glasses and earmuffs around my forearm
>“…and here’s your safety gear”
>“and thanks”
>“now go get ‘em tiger”
>I took a deep breath and walked down to the starting line, lodging magazine into my belt line as I went
>“alright Anon, you’ve got 15 targets to take down before you reach the finish line”
>“how many rounds will it take to down each?”
>“three, there’s a reload zone halfway through, it’s behind a barrel with a red line painted on it”
>“right…”
>I pinned my rifle under my arm as I began to put on my safety gear, until Mika called my attention again
>“hold on Anon before you put your ears on, there’s special obstacles you’ll have to pass during this course, I’ll verbally guide you through them to you as you encounter them”
>“how am I supposed to hear you with the earmuffs on?”
>“by paying attention!”
>“fuck’s sake”
>“language… oh and full auto is allowed for this one”
>well, there’s a redeeming quality
>I clicked the selector into full auto and pulled back on the charging handle
>a round of 7.62 sat on top of the magazine, waiting to be shoved into the chamber
>my eyes began to wander
>I began to admire the flawless coloring of my rifle
>the fine grainy black coat
>the bright white text and classic red HK select fire markings
>my hand felt the quality of the grip, how the texture stuck to my skin
>a tear began to form on my eye when-
>“ANON!”
>“huh what?”
>“are you ready or not?!”
>“oh, um, yeah… sorry t-the ears… I couldn’t hear you”
>“go when you hear the horn!”
>please please, for the love of god, don’t make me crawl through the ground or something like that
>“3 2 1!”
>an airhorn sounded over my head
>I sprinted into action, following a line drawn on the ground
>a plastic ring propped up on a stick suddenly rose from the dirt
>“FIRST OBSTACLE, JUMP THROUGH THE RING AND ROLL ON LANDING!”
>ARE YOU FUCKING JOKING?!

>I tucked my 417 against my chest with my arms to keep it safe
>jumping headfirst through the hoop, I landed on my back
>the impact knocked some of the air out of my chest
>“GUH!”
>“are you ok?”
>Lucy was leaning on the railing looking down at me
>I quickly sucked it up and got on my feet, giving a thumbs up as I ran through the rest of the course
>eventually I reached a set or plywood planks with holes in them
>cover
>“FIRST SHOOTING SPOT, 5 TARGETS”
>Mika yelled from behind me
>since he didn’t yell any more instructions, I assumed it was for me to decide how to tackle them
>so, I just peeked around the cover and pulled the trigger on the first thing I could get my sights on
>I let out an unnecessarily long burst on the first target
>probably because I got lost trying to feel the gun for the first time
>the recoil was tamer than I anticipated
>the muzzle didn’t climb much
>it was so smooth I’m pretty sure I could feel the bolt carrier easily sliding back and forth
>huh…
>drop the target
>move on to the next one
>and then the rest
>except the last one
>the last one gets hit by only two rounds
>then my mag runs dry
>“fuck…”
>I muttered under my breath as I reached for another one
>“LANGUAGE!”
>Mika shouted from the platform
>sigh
>I swapped mags
>clicking the new one into my rifle and then stuffing the empty one into my vest
>I put a single round into the last target, finally dropping it
>“MOVE ON TO THE NEXT SECTION, 2 OBSTACLES IN THE WAY”
>I lifted a thumb over my head to acknowledge the instructions
>I raced down the course
>the next obstacle to appear before me was a set of stairs
>it was only a few steps long
>no more than 3 feet in height
>I climbed them…
>and then jumped off them…
>…
>ok… I guess that’s an obstacle
>so I went back to running
>I turned a corner and found myself in front of a set of tires laid on the ground
>ok this is more like it

>I started trotting over the strip, shoving my feet into the tires as I ran over
>it seemed easy
>until I tripped on the last one
>somehow the very tip of my shoe got caught and that was enough to send me straight to the floor
>like delicate glassware flies of a table when the cat goes off its chain in catnip
>I could have used my arms to lessen the impact
>I could…
>but they were currently busy carrying my expensive german rifle
>naturally, I moved it out of the way and took the brunt of the impact with my chest, chin, nose, and forehead
>the taste of blood filled my mouth
>the entire front section of my body from the waist up started to sting
>geez
>I didn’t know they made the dirt out of sandpaper here
>I stood up and continued
>trying my best to be stoic about what just happened
>I could hear Lucy and Mika say something, but I couldn’t quite make it out with all the buzzing in my head
>it wasn’t until I arrived at an oil drum with a red streak painted on it that I completely returned to my senses
>fuck
>this was the barrel I was supposed to reload at
>oh shit
>I’m gonna get scolded for that one
>I pressed on, finally arriving at the next cluster of targets
>this time there were six of them
>however, this time they were also partly obscured behind their own cover
>this time I took my time and downed every target with a 3-round burst
>I took off running again
>I had stopped trying to listen to whatever Mika was yelling at me
>the next obstacle I encountered was a…
>…a layer of barbed wire suspended a few inches of the floor
>at this point I’m pretty sure this course was designed to fuck with me
>so, I carefully laid onto the floor and laid my rifle on my back
>slowly but surely crawled under the wire
>next thing I knew I was fucking running again WHEN WILL IT STOP
>oh another reload barrel
>swapped the mags
>got to the last cluster of targets
>six targets
>behind cover
>and moving
>slowly picked them off in semi-auto
>and that's it I guess

>I trotted over the finish line
>a buzzer rang from the other side of the course
>I took a deep breath and slowly sauntered back to the platform
>one of my knees popped about halfway there
>ouch
>I think I overstrained myself a little
>gotta get some more cardio in
>and some better coordination
>my chest and face still hurt from that fall
>this was an embarrassing run
>I made it back to the platform
>Lucy and Mika’s faces were all I needed to see to know how they felt about it
>“yes, I know, just tell me how sh-bad I did”
>Mika reached into his pocket and pulled out a clipboard and some comically small glasses
>“ahem… on the good side, your handling over your weapons was above average… slightly”
>“and for the bad part?”
>“your general pace falls behind the average, you hesitated on some of the obstacles, you reloaded outside of the designated area and finally… you scorpion’d at the tires”
>“so that means?”
>“I give it a 67/100”
>I took another deep breath and sat down on a little folding chair which I don’t remember seeing here before
>huh
>Mika put his clipboard aside
>“are you feeling well Anon?”
>“huh? why you ask?”
>“you usually perform better than this, are you ill or injured?”
>“nah, just a bit distracted, that’s all”
>“very well then, it’s Lucy’s turn now”
>Lucy nodded before grabbing her shotgun and a bandolier full of shells
>she removed her earpro and knelled down beside me
>“don’t worry babe, you’ll get better at it”
>I simply smiled at her
>“also, your nose is bleeding”
>“is it?”
>“yeah, hold on let me…”
>she put a hand over my face
>I closed my eyes and felt that warm and tingly feeling that healing magic gives off
>my face stopped stinging immediately
>ah what a relief
>I wished she did the same for my chest though
>Lucy then put her protection back on and headed towards the starting line
>I looked over to Mika
>“you didn’t tell me what my time was”
>“oh, I have no idea”
>“what?”
>“I forgot to start the stopwatch”
>“…fuck”
>“ahem”
>“sorry”

>Mika turned his attention to Lucy
>“everything ready?”
>“yeah, just say when!”
>Mika pulled a stopwatch from his pocket and showed it to me with a grin
>haha very funny asshole
>he pressed on it and yelled
>“GO!”
>and Lucy was off
>she had to run through the same path as me
>however, she already saw me go through
>so, when the hoop popped up again, she dived through it effortlessly
>she did it by bending her legs and arms forward
>like an olympic diver doing a pike
>she sticked the landing and ran to the first shooting section
>there, she did the same thing as me
>standing in a single spot and taking quick follow-up shots
>Lucy had a massive advantage over me however
>she could down the targets in a single shot since she had a shotgun loaded with buckshot
>as long as three pellets landed on the silhouette, it counted
>granted, she also had many disadvantages like a lower capacity and lack of automatic fire but still…
>it felt kinda unfair to me
>the first five targets were down, and she was onto the next section
>she didn’t even bother with the little stairs
>she skipped them with a single jump
>the tires were no problem
>she took it a bit slower than me but didn’t face plant at the end
>she got to the loading barrel drum thing and topped off her mag tube
>the next set of targets
>things went almost the same
>quick follow-ups
>targets downed easily
>her control over her shotgun still needed a bit more discipline
>she didn’t much aim as much as she just vaguely lined up the barrel with the targets
>still, it worked
>most targets were down with a single shot
>she speeded off and threw herself under the wire
>she didn’t care about no dirt or anything really
>great form and excellent moves
>admirable really
>and it would have been better if only I wasn’t cringing at the thought of an expensive Italian shotgun getting dragged through the mud
>I shuddered
>Mika looked down at me and lifted up an eyebrow
>I didn’t say anything
>he wouldn’t understand anyway…

>…
>fuck I sounded like an asshole
>ahem…
>anyway, the buzzer rings out
>Lucy had completed the course
>she was walking back stretching her back and with a big smile on her face
>I took the opportunity to stow the 417 away so I would not be at risk anymore
>rest well my baby, you’ve earned it
>Mika started slowly clapping as Lucy made her way back up
>“very good Lucy, you moved through the entire track better than anyone I’ve seen so far”
>“really?”
>“yes… well, you know, I said we’ve opened it recently but still, quite impressive”
>“oh”
>“your handling over your weapons is… reckless… but you made it work, and with a total time of 4:12 I give you a total score of 81/100”
>hey wait a second…
>where’d the clipboard and glasses go?
>Lucy turns to me with a coy smile
>“think you can beat that?”
>she teases
>“hmmm…”
>I open another one of our bags, looking for a different weapon to use
>my hand brushed against a familiar feeling polymer
>I pulled out the gun and found my old reliable
>my SL8
>when did I…
>doesn’t matter
>I pulled out a couple of transparent 30 rounder mags, confidently clicking one into the well
>“…actually, I may”
>Lucy raised an eyebrow before chuckling
>“alrighty then”
>this rifle is already beat to shit, I’m not afraid this time
>I patted Mika in the back as I stepped down to the starting like again
>“don’t forget the stopwatch this time”
>Mike let out a snort
>I locked the handle to the left and pulled it back, chambering a round
>“round 2 Anon, you ready?”
>“hit me!”
>“GO!”
>AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
>~a few minutes later~
>“quite the improvement Anon, you were bold this time around, and the way you moved around cover instead of staying in one place was quite the treat too, still not as fast as Lucy, but I’ll give you an 81/100 as well”
>I looked over to Lucy
>she had the same blank expression on her face as me
>well, at least that way no one is better than anyone… I think…

>so Lucy decided to go again
>and so did I
>and then she went again
>and then I did again
>and so on and so forth
>until the sun began to set
>and we were always matched
>only ever getting a few points over the other but never a definitive ‘I am better than you’ score
>I slowly shambled up to the platform
>my lungs were working overtime to keep me conscious
>Lucy was still barely recovering from her last run
>I held on Mika’s shirt and said
>“I… I think… that’s enough…”
>“really? what do you say Lucy? another go?”
>“no… I’m… my legs hurt…”
>“huh… well alright, I think I pushed you too hard today”
>“pushed?”
>“oh you didn’t notice? I could sense your little friendly rivalry brewing up, so I kept putting your scores close to each other to keep you going”
>“oh… that… aha… ahahaha…”
>“it was some good exercise, wasn’t it?”
>“oh Mika… you lovable mischievous giant… please don’t ever do that again, my spleen aches”
>Mika just laughed it off
>we packed our bags, said our goodbyes, and left
>we sat down a little in the front lobby to regain our energy and then we were out again
>the highway was busier this time
>I couldn’t just floor it home, but that was alright
>things were calm all around
>the radio was playing soft jazz and the hum of the engine was pleasing to hear
>every time I looked over at Lucy, I noticed that she got more and more sleepy as we went
>I let out a pleased sigh and gave her a quick pat on the head
>and when I looked back to the road, I realized that-
>HOLY FUCKING SHIT
>“LUCY! lucylucylucylucy DON’T SLEEP YET!
>“ouh uh what is it?”
>“LOOK!”
>I pointed to the road ahead
>there he was on the highway
>that two-wheel-mounting carjack-attempting Italian-speaking son of a bitch…
>I quickly pulled out my phone and opened the camera
>I gave it to Lucy and commanded
>“here! take a picture of his plates!”
>“uh what?”

>“the numbers! get the numbers on the back!”
>“OH”
>Lucy rested her arms on the dashboard and smashed the camera button as fast as she could
>“get it! USE THE ZOOM!”
>“uh… I think I got it”
>“let me see!
>“like this?”
>I gave a passing glance at the picture
>it was a blurry mess, but the number plate was legible
>“good enough”
>I quickly pull Lucy in for a kiss
>“thank you baby!”
>I put some pressure off the gas pedal
>the bike fucker slowly starts pulling away, and I integrate back into normal traffic
>Lucy is left wide-eyed, her face turning pink
>but quickly she leans back and gets drowsy again
>that retard in the other hand, he can have this night of peace
>I have a plan
>calling the police on him is not going to be enough
>I’m going to get revenge myself
>I took our exit off the highway
>we were home a couple of minutes after that
>I opened the front door with the bags of guns in tow
>the first thing I heard was a man speaking in Japanese with soft jazz playing in the background
>ok…?
>Lucy headed upstairs
>I walked into the living room to see what was going on
>there, dako, Nayako and Gabby are sitting on the sofa
>they were watching a Japanese documentary about handguns
>“we’re back”
>I announced
>dako and Gabby turned around and waved
>Nayako stayed fixated on the TV
>I left the bags on the floor and walked beside the couch
>“what are you guys watching?”
>dako turned to me, offering me a bowl of popcorn
>“Guns of the World volume 1… oh and we went to the store while you were gone, hope you don’t mind that we took the CRX for a bit”
>“it’s ok, but uh… could you help me out with something?”
>“yeah what is it?”
>I pointed my finger towards the staircase
>“I need to talk with you for a sec”
>“aight”
>dako set the bowl of popcorn on the table and got up to follow me
>“oh wait… hey Naya, I got you something!”
>Nayako’s ears suddenly popped over the back rest of the couch
>she turned around and jumped over the sofa, quickly running to me
>“what is it?!"

>“here”
>I said as I pulled the faggy blue pico from my pocket
>“ooh it’s… something…”
>“it’s a pico pocket pistol, seems like the right size for you”
>“oh… thanks, I guess”
>“do you like it?
>“yeah, it’s… ok”
>but I knew damn well she didn’t like it
>she started to fiddle with it
>pulling the slide back and looking for a way to disassemble it
>“alright, let’s go”
>I take dako upstairs and to his room
>“uh… why my roo-”
>but before he could finish, I push him in and lock the door behind me
>“I need your help, you said you have friends in the DMV right?”
>“it’s not called DMV here, it’s the-
>“yes, I know, the department of whatever, can they find someone based on their license plate?”
>dako narrowed his eyes and held his chin
>“what are you planning Anon?”
>I pulled out my phone and showed him the picture
>“this guy, I think he’s Italian or something… he tried to steal the subie while we were on the range, I managed to scare him off before he could do anything to the car but…”
>“why didn’t you call the police?”
>“range security did… but we stumbled upon him on the way back, that’s where I got this pic from”
>“are you sure it’s the right guy?”
>“positive, same bike, same helmet, same everything”
>“I see…”
>dako walked up to his bed and kneeled down
>he pulled out a briefcase from beneath his bed and put it up on the mattress
>“come here”
>he opened the briefcase, which turned out to be some sort of covert laptop type thing
>the screen was filled with Vetrillian text
>“what is that?”
>“it’s a police terminal, let me see the picture again”
>I handed him my phone
>dako proceeded to run the plate into a search bar
>the screen went white with a spinning hourglass in the middle
>“if he was trying to steal cars, how do you know he wasn’t wearing a fake pla-
>but then the computer loaded, throwing several results sectioned in different lists
>dako raised an eyebrow before picking one of the results, seemingly at random
>“uh… nevermind, I think I found your guy”

>“oh shit, really?”
>“yeah, you said he was Italian right?”
>“I think so”
>“well, the only bike registered under that number plate belongs to a man called Francesco Ricci”
>“sounds Italian enough”
>“right… come check it out then”
>I moved besides dako and took a hard look at the file
>the attached photo was of a man in his mid 20’s with dark hair, tanned skin and minor scars across his mouth and chin
>“hmmm yes… I can’t read this…”
>“oh for fuck’s sake, hold on”
>dako pushed me aside and skimmed the profile report
>after a few minutes he turns to me again
>“ok, in short, this is probably your guy”
>“really?”
>“if his existing criminal record says anything…”
>“ah, what’s he done?”
>“prosecuted a year ago under charges of vandalism, careless driving and suspected gang activities, the vandalism and driving charges stuck but he was bailed out by um… someone, vandalism fines are very expensive here”
>“that sounds suspicious…”
>“yeah, street rat gets bailed out of stupid expensive charges by mysterious someone, I’ve seen it before”
>“sounds like someone needs him out of jail”
>“exactly, he’s probably a drug pusher or such”
>“great… I need another thing from you, I’m gonna steal his bike”
>dako began to chuckle
>“I fucking knew it, hold a sec”
>dako walked up to his wardrove and pulled out a big pelican case from it
>he laid it on the bed and opened it
>“you want to borrow this, right?”
>in the case was his old bike gear, helmet and MP7 with custom mags
>“oh you beautiful son of a bitch, you got it spot on!”
>“ahaha! you do know how to hotwire a bike, right?”
>“uh…”
>“alright fine, I’ll help you with that too”
>dako removed the foam out of the top of the pelican case to reveal a hidden compartment filled with vials of a strange black fluid suspended within them
>“what the fuck are those?”
>he pulled one out and handed it to me
>the cork on the vial had a handle shaped like the butt of a key
>“these are polymorphic key replicators, you get just one though"

>“oh shit, how they work?”
>“easy, you pull the top off, shove the black goo into the ignition, wait a few seconds for it to harden, and away you go!”
>I lifted the vial to my face
>upon further inspection I noticed how the tar inside seemed to pulse and squirm when I moved the glass
>are these things technically alive?
>“cool, can I get more?”
>“fat chance Anon, sorry”
>“aw why not?”
>dako re-stuffed the foam on the case and closed it
>“well, because they are very valuable, they are EXTREMELY fucking illegal, but mostly because making them is a pain… literally, it hurts a lot”
>“you made these?”
>“yeah, I can make them out of my own flesh, that one I gave you used to by my left pinky”
>“oh… how long did it took to grow back?”
>“five days, instantly if I have the extra mass, wanna see how I make them?”
>“ew… sure!”
>“right”
>dako opened the case again and removed the foam, this time of the bottom part
>from there he pulled an empty vial and a meat cleaver
>“wait wait! I didn’t mean it as in right now!”
>“oh… sorry”
>a few more minutes of back and forth later, I had everything
>dako had sent me the address via phone along with a bus route and schedule that would get me there
>I got his gear into a duffle bag and hid it in the workshop along with a couple fun things of my own
>then the rest of the day went about as normal
>at night, we gathered for dinner and had a talk about dako and Gabby’s little vacation/family reunion thing
>Lucy was surprisingly ok with it, which was nice
>I thought she was gonna get mad that we’d have to man the shop alone for a week
>regardless, the day eventually ended
>I rested in bed, Lucy was huddled beside me, already sleeping
>in my head, I went over my plan once again
>the main steps and possible alternatives in case something went wrong
>everything should turn up ok
>everything WILL turn up ok
>I just have to believe…
>now, time for sleep
>I pressed my thumb and middle fingers together
>1
>2
>3
>snap
>and I was out

>next morning came
>I rose out of bed and found myself alone
>Lucy must have woken up earlier today
>I looked at my clock
>nope
>I overslept
>that may explain the aching eyelids
>regardless, I got out of bed, went into the bathroom and freshened myself
>I got changed into some comfortable clothes and headed for the door
>though as I grabbed the handle, I got an itchy feeling in the back of my mind
>hmmm
>I pondered for a few seconds before going to the bedside drawer and getting it
>the magic marble
>it glistened with power
>I let out a heavy sigh
>“just in case…”
>I told myself as I shoved it into my pocket
>the mental itchiness went away after that
>I don’t like that
>that better not be indicative of anything to come because I swear to god…
>anyways, I walked downstairs and found everyone sitting around the sofa
>Gabby turned to me and announced
>“hey! you’re finally awake”
>“yeah and uh… where you guys waiting for me?”
>“yeah, we’re going to go out for breakfast at the city center and then we’re catching a gryphon to harpy city”
>“oh, right… I’m sorry for making you guys wait”
>dako stood up and picked up a pair of bags and a pet carrier that I had not seen before
>“don’t sweat it Anon, at least you gave us some time to make sure we packed everything… twice”
>he gave me a nudge with his elbow as he walked by to the front door
>I just rolled my eyes
>“well then, where do you guys want to go?”
>“there’s a Denny’s right around the corner of the gryphon station”
>Gabby suggested as she too hauled her own bags towards the front door
>“I’m fine with that, what do you girls say?”
>Nayako simply lifted up her thumb without breaking sight of the television
>Lucy raised an eyebrow and asked
>“who is Dennis?”
>“not Dennis, Denny’s the restaurant”
>“oh… I thought businesses used less conventional names”
>“heh… I’ll explain to you in the way”
>I grabbed the keys to the subie and we were off
>less than half an hour later and we had arrived
>the place was packed

>it seems that we arrived at peak hour
>fortunately for us, the people here, who were mostly groups of three, were polite enough to not hoard the bigger tables
>we found ourselves seated in a comfortable wide boot in a corner
>or most of us at least
>dako was nowhere to be found
>we thought he had stopped at the bathroom
>or so we did until several minutes later when he shuffled into the restaurant wearing an unnecessarily baggy jacket
>everyone looked at him puzzled, except Gabby who just rolled her eyes
>“hello~”
>“what’s up with that coat?”
>Lucy asked
>“hmmm? nothing, I was just feeling chilly”
>“riiiiight”
>I didn’t say anything and just chucked it up to dako wanting to smuggle weapons inside a Denny’s for some reason
>then a waitress came over
>we ordered
>we waited for our food, and then it arrived
>I got some sunny side ups with bacon
>Lucy got fried mushrooms with sausages
>Nayako got a stack of pancakes with sour cream
>Gabby ordered an… uh… something with vegies and uh… meat of dubious appearance in it
>and dako got some beans and scrambled eggs, plus small fruit salad
>fruit salad which he then quietly shoved into his jacket
>“what the fuck are you doing?”
>“uh… I’m…”
>but Gabby simply tugged on his chest, revealing a pair of fleshy white stalks wriggling beneath his coat
>dako had snuck his pet slug inside the restaurant
>“why…?”
>“he was hungry”
>“…”
>with that little detour out of the way, we got back into the car and got to the gryphon station
>a cute and small building, two stories tall with a barn bolted to the top
>we got in, handed over the luggage and then had to wait for some minutes
>Gabby was talking to Lucy and Nayako, saying goodbye and such
>then dako, bumped my in the shoulder to get my attention
>“are you really gonna manage a week without us?”
>“I think we’ll be just fine”
>“great… just make sure to check the attic every odd day or so”
>“why?”
>“with grapes gone, who’s gonna eat the moss that grows up there?”
>“ah…”

>“and another thing…”
>he leaned closer and whispered into my ear
>“don’t interact with the police… you are technically under my hosting and it’s illegal for undocumented travelers to be out of the same region as their host”
>“are you serious? holy shit… what if someone breaks into the house?”
>“you fucking kill them”
>“yes I know but what do we do after? we just don’t report it something?”
>“exactly, I left you a 9mm OPMACO suppressor behind the TV, those things are Hollywood quiet and don’t need threaded barrels”
>“what do we do with the bodies?”
>“call Mehily, she’ll help you out”
>“right…”
>a man descends down the stairs hollering something incomprehensible to me
>he’s dressed like a railway conductor
>I guess that means they are departing…?
>“our flight is ready, we’ll see you in a week”
>“alrighty, see ya!”
>I gave dako a high-five followed by a fist bump
>he took Gabby by the hand and they followed the man upstairs, waving as they went
>“don’t burn down the house while we’re gone!”
>“we’ll try not to!”
>well, this is going to be an interesting week
>I turned to Lucy and Nayako
>Lucy was smiling yet anxious
>naya let out a sad sigh as they left
>“what’s the matter girl?”
>“I wish I could have gone with Gabby, she’s nice to me…”
>“aw…”
>I lifted her up and bounced her a little
>“…don’t worry sweety, she’ll be back in a week”
>and then she stared at me like she wanted to eat my eyes
>her ears flattened backwards and a deep growl emanated from her chest
>“I’m not a baby…”
>“oh… sorry”
>so I gently put her back down
>“well uh… let’s go home yeah?”
>Lucy took a deep breath before responding
>“yeah, I want to get some things done at the house”
>“right”
>the drive back home was silent
>I could still feel Nayako’s eyes drilling into the back of my head
>guess she’s the kind to hold resentment
>geez…
>we arrived home
>everyone split into their own
>Lucy went up
>naya went to watch TV
>I was left alone, with nothing else to do
>…
>hmmm…
>…
>…mhmm
>IT'S TIME

>I walked upstairs and into my room
>Lucy was not there so I assumed she was in the bathroom
>I grabbed a hoodie from my closet and swapped my shoes for some sneakers
>as I made my way back down, I passed by the bathroom
>I knocked on the door gently
>“busy”
>“hey Lucy, I’m gonna go out for a walk, ok?”
>“ok~ just be back in time for lunch!”
>“I will”
>downstairs, Nayako was still sitting hypnotized in front of the TV
>“naya? girl?”
>she turned and glared at me from behind the backrest of the couch
>I walked up to her pulling my key ring from my pocket
>I could hear her make another low pitch growl as I sat next to her
>I grabbed one of the smaller keys and presented it to her
>“this is the key to the gun room upstairs”
>her eyes widened
>her hand tried to move in to take it but she stopped herself
>“it’s ok, I’m sorry for treating you like a baby… just be sure to put everything back where you found it”
>she snatched they key from my hand and ran up, not even saying anything
>huh
>I mean… my intention this whole time was to get Nayako away from the TV but still…
>kind of rude
>I walked up to the TV and peeked behind it
>effectively, there was a big can tapped to the back side
>I grabbed it and took it to the workshop
>there I also grabbed the duffle bag, and I was off
>the first thing to do was to get out of the tight streets of this neighborhood
>I needed to catch a bus, busses don’t pass through here because they don’t fit
>absolutely genius reasoning skills, I know
>the walk was not very long before I reached one of the stops where I knew my ride passed through
>I waited for around twenty minutes until a bus with the route number 039 appeared
>that’s the one
>I hopped aboard and took a seat near the front
>there was a small screen bolted to one of the corners of the bus
>in it, there was a female news presenter talking about… something I couldn’t understand
>but then pictures of huge potholes around the city appeared on screen
>eugh… pothole season…