"That was "Love Puncher" with "Punch Into Your Heart". You're listening to the hottest hits of the '80s on RK-1, Heat City's number one radio! Coming up next is Suzy Q with "Get On Up and Do It Again"."

Soundtrack: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3u6cKuPAhcY

You slowly fade into wakefulness, listening to the quiet, crackly sound of dance pop on a radio alarm. Where the hell are you again? What the hell happened last night? It's a blur right now.

You go to push yourself up, but someone jabs a poker into your left shoulder, and that arm collapses under you. Right. You got shot. You went to Catherine's secret club, and that asshole outside the doors shot you, and then inside ...

You have a vivid flash of adrenaline-fueled memories. Blasting shot after shot from a Spas-12 into a crowd of gimp-suited S&M freaks charging your position. Nick standing beside you, shouting and firing a pistol.

A man's severed head rolling along a concrete floor towards you.

Catherine with a rag in her mouth, her own father holding a gun to her temple. That same father slumped against the wall with a meat cleaver sticking out of his forehead.

After that, things start to get hazy. You lift your left arm, testing it, and wince in pain. Yikes. That's going to be out of action for a while. At least somebody cleaned the wound and taped you up.

You look around. Some kind of small bedroom. You remember Ken said something about a "house in the suburbs." This must be it.

You feel exhausted. Lost a decent amount of blood last night. You think about staying in bed a while longer, but you have a sudden, urgent need to piss. You look around for clothes. Your blood-stained clothes, the ones you've been wearing ever since that first day with the Russian job, are nowhere to be seen. But someone's left a folded pair of jeans and a plain shirt. You pull them on (the shirt's a little tight, but you'll manage), head to the bathroom, and piss a mighty stream with a sigh of relief.

Outside in the hallway, you notice a faded photograph, framed on the wall. Two men, maybe in their thirties, their arms around each other's shoulders. Two kids, a grinning boy and a serious-looking girl. A boat in the background. One of the men might be a a younger version of Ken. Maybe the kids are little Ryuji and Catherine? Which would make the other man-

A door opens nearby, and Ken emerges. "Good morning, Johnny."

"Morning. Man, was I glad to see you and Ryuji last night. I was in a bad spot, but Ryuji ... he, uh ... damn it, I had something for this. Something about cutting."

"Perhaps you'll think of it later."

"Maybe, yeah. Anyway. This is your place?"

"It is. As you've noticed, I keep a few photographs around, to remind me of simpler times." Ken looks at the framed photo, shakes his head, rueful. "We were so close once. But ... we each chose a different path."

>Ask about his family
>Ask about last night
>Ask if he found anything about Alex
>Say nothing
>Something else

>>862385
>>Ask about last night

>>862385
>>Ask about last night

"What happened last night?" you ask him. "You and Ryuji showed up out of the shadows like a pair of ninjas."

"Last night, I was making inquiries regarding your friend, when I was contacted by one of my old friends in the syndicate. He warned me that Hiroshi had learned about his daughter overstepping her bounds, as it were, and was in a violent rage. That he and his men had left for Club Red to "deal with her." I become worried for Catherine's safety, got in touch with Ryuji, and travelled there immediately. I knew of a hidden back entrance, so our entry was, er, somewhat easier than yours. The rest, you were there for."

You think back on it. Ryuji cutting that guy's head off, maybe saving your life. A tense stand-off, Catherine taken hostage by her own father. The feel of the meat cleaver's grip in your hand. The surprise on the man's face as the cleaver hit it dead center. The shock and disgust on Catherine's face as it was splattered by her father's blood.

Ken says, "Johnny, the three of us will not blame you for what you had to do. Each of us had already parted with him, in our own way. The rest is not for me to say." he says, moving past you. "Catherine is in the kitchen. She will want to talk business. And I must visit the gentleman's room."

(Continued)

File: catherine blue.jpg (126 KB, 894x894)

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Catherine is sitting at the kitchen table, sipping a cup of coffee. She looks immaculate. Like she didn't almost die last night.

"You're up and about," she says. "That's good. How's the arm?"

"Been better," you admit.

"Just remember to change those bandages. Now. First of all, thank you again for riding to my rescue last night. Very heroic. I'll spare you the sad story of my family history for now. Suffice to say that, despite that man being my father, I loathed him, and take no small pleasure in his death. Now onto business.

"I'm afraid a portion of your reward for the helicopter job will be delayed. I have to see to my organization, my finances, sort out which of my storage lockers are secure, before I can deliver you the coke. But your car, the Lincoln Continental you requested, is ready for you in a garage. And for now, any expenses you incur are on me." She lays a credit card down on the table. "Consider that part of your payment for saving my life.

"We also agreed that part of your payment was information on the men who came after you. It's a rather complicated situation. Would you like the long version or the short one?"

>The long one.
>The short one.

>>862575
>The long one.

>>862575
>>The long one.

"The long one. I need to know as much as possible."

She looks out the window, takes a sip of her coffee, marshalls her thoughts.

"Heat City is changing, Johnny. In previous years, the Families up north kept a tight hold on things, on most crime in the nation. But this is where the action is now. All the cocaine and Z in the US flows through here. It's a big damn pie, and everybody wants a piece. Whatever they have to do to get it.

"Because of that, alliances are forming in this city's underworld. Gangs who were once enemies are now combining their strengths to take out their competition, and make money hand over fist. Two have risen to power. Empires of crime, if you like. Both see each other as a threat. Both will not rest until Heat City is theirs.

"On one hand, your friend Ivan of the Russians, the other Soviet gangs, and the Colombians, have allied themselves with a criminal organization operating clandestinely within the police force known as "Black Spear". They have high-ranking allies within the police to cover their cocaine smuggling and protection rackets. This is the alliance that used you as patsies to steal from their enemies.

"On the other hand, the Triads have made arrangements with the Jaguars, the Vietnamese dock gangs, and the Yakuza syndicate, previously under my father. All the Z in the city comes from them. This is the alliance whose money you now possess.

"Both of them want that money, and see you and your friend Alex as a potentially fatal loose end."

"That's about the size it. Any questions?"

>What happened to Ivan's father, Vlad? Isn't he in charge?
>What's going to happen to the Yakuza, now that your father's gone?
>What is Dragon's Nest?
>What the hell should I do?
>It still feels like a piece of the puzzle is missing.
>No.

>>862664
>What the hell should I do?

>>862664
>>What happened to Ivan's father, Vlad? Isn't he in charge?
>>What the hell should I do?

"What happened to Ivan's father, Vlad? Isn't he in charge of the Russians? I didn't think he would pull a stunt like this."

She picks up the newspaper on the table and hands it to you. "Page 6."

It's a local newspaper. You sit down in the chair opposite her, open the paper to page 6. There's an article about smugglers in the glades, a movie star, a burnt-down mansion- wait a second. You recognize that mansion. It's Vlad's place, out on the edge of town. You skim the article. Suspected foul play. Bodies burned beyond recognition. Suspected to be Vladimir Mikhaev, 68, and his wife-

"Goddamn," you say, leaning back in the chair. "I thought that old bastard would live forever. Do you think it was the Triads taking him out, or Ivan cashing in an early inheritance?"

"Ivan has been known to employ firebugs. This seems a level of brutality beyond him, but perhaps I simply underestimated him." Her elegant fingers open a pack of cigarettes on the table, light a match.

You rub your face with your right hand, feeling unshaven stubble. Giant crime alliances. Turf wars. Daring heists. This is all way above your pay grade. Last week you were a nobody, your name meant nothing. Now the whole city is on your neck.

You ask Catherine, "What the hell should I do?"

She smiles. "I'm so glad you asked." The cigarette smoke begins to coil around her, like a cat's tail. "You've already stolen from the Triads, even though you didn't realize it at the time. What you should do now, Johnny, is help me steal even more from them. On purpose, this time."

>Go on.
>Are you crazy?

>>862802
>>Go on.

ah fuck

>>862802
>Go on.

You say, "Go on."

Catherine tosses a file, stained with blood, onto the table. It's the one marked Dragon's Nest. The one you stole from her nightclub.

You say, "Oh, uh, about that, I-"

She waves a hand in dismissal. "Honestly, the fault lies with that brainless employee of mine - now ex-employee - who left a secret file on his desk and the door unlocked when he visited the bathroom. You read it, I imagine?"

"Yeah, I did. Couldn't make heads or tails of it, really. There was a blueprint, and some accounting stuff, and something in Chinese writing? It seems like a big deal, whatever it is. So ... what is it?"

"Dragon's Nest is a fortress. A castle surrounding a vault, designed to protect a hoard of incredible value: the take from the Zeta trade. I've traced the money from that drug. All of it finds its way to one of two places. Dragon's Nest is their name for this one. In addition to the vast amount of cash within, I suspect there will be other, even more extravagant rewards inside for the thief who was daring enough to claim them."

She leans forward. She's normally a collected person, but you can see excitement in her eyes. "Steal the dragon's hoard with me, Johnny. In one move, you'll weaken the Triads, and make yourself so damn rich that you have nothing to fear from them."

>I'm in.
>No way!
>I have to think about this.
>Something else.

>>862923
>>I have to think about this.
probably gonna do it.

>>862923
>I have to think about this.

I mean, getting that much money sounds great, but let's face it, part of being a thug is always being hard up for cash.

Anyway, need to get Alex and Zero here for the job before we agree to it. Hell, maybe even Edna, too.

Getting that much money sounds great. Part of being a thug is always being hard up for cash. But who knows? Maybe this is your ticket out out that life. Maybe get out of crime altogether, settle down somewhere. Or maybe stay in, and become a real somebody.

"I'll have to think about it," you say. Though I'll probably do it, you think.

"Of course," says Catherine. "It's a big decision. Why don't you take the day to think it over? I've sent Ryuji along with your "friend" Nick out on some errands for me. They should be back here by early evening. Meet us here, and I'll go over the plan in more detail-"

The phone on the kitchen counter rings. Catherine turns around, looks at it suspiciously. "Hmm."

You say, "Does anyone know you're here?"

"I contacted a few of my trusted men at Enigma, earlier this morning. They should know not to call me back unless it was important." She gets up, picks up the phone. "Yes? Oh! Yes. Yes, of course. Glad to hear it. He is, actually. One moment." She hands you the phone. "It's for you, actually."

You take the phone, bemused. "Hello?"

"Hey there, tough guy," says a woman's voice in your ear.

"Alex!"

>You're alive!
>Are you all right?
>I knew you were fine.
>Where are you?

>>863053
>>Are you all right?
>>Where are you?

>>863053
>Are you all right?
>Where are you?
>Need a pickup?

You try to think of what to ask first. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine, although my clothes are a little smelly. Spent the night and half the morning in a sewer drain. Been trying to track you down since then. What about you, are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine." You test your left arm and wince in pain. "Mostly fine. I've been trying to find you too, I've just been kinda busy."

"So I heard. I stopped by Enigma last night, came to an understanding with Catherine's boys, and they pointed me towards Club Red. I got there just in time to see the police tape go up. That place had your work written all over it. I'm back at Enigma now. According to the boys here, Catherine's got a ladyboner for you after you saved her life or something." You can picture her smirking.

"Er, well, I don't know about that. So you're at Enigma now? Do you need a pickup?"

"Not right now. Got something going on that might come in handy later. Let's meet up tonight."

"Uh ... all right. Catherine give me the info we wanted just now. There's a sort of follow-up meeting planned for tonight, here at the safehouse. Meet me here. It's somewhere out in Sunset Springs-" You look at Catherine. She tells you the address, and you relay it to Alex.

"Okay. I should have results on my thing by then," she says. "I'll see you then. And Johnny?"

"Yeah, Alex?"

"Glad you're still alive."

"You too."

She hangs up. You do as well. That was reassuring, if not entirely clear. What's got her so busy?

Catherine says. "That's one less thing to worry about. Glad to know she's still out there. Hopefully tonight we can convince her to join in on the plan. Anyway, as I was about to say earlier, you're free to do as you like today. Use that credit card to buy yourself some clothes that fit would be a good start."

It's a rare occasion where you can do what you want and maybe nobody will shoot at you.

What would you like to do first?

>Pick up your new wheels
>Go clothes shopping
>Buy ammo
>Check on Zero at the doctor's place
>Something else

>>863137
>Buy ammo
Preferably from Edna. See if she has a grenade launcher, too. China Lake pump action if she's got it, or a classic M79 works too. Then...
>Check on Zero at the doctor's place

>>863168
M79 seems more likely now, seeing as the China Lake launcher only got 50 built max. Shame...

>>863197
A shame indeed. Maybe I'll save that bad boy for an endgame weapon.

>>862923
>I'm in.

>>863218
If you're looking for an endgame grenade launcher for a helicopter battle and you don't mind having it on a tripod, you could always try the Mk 19 automatic grenade launcher. No way in hell you can make it portable, but it'd be a fun thing to use when we do a flyby on Ivan's safehouse.

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>>863259

>>863197
Hey, there are crazier things that have had one offs made.

Before anything, you want to buy some ammunition. With your luck, wherever you go second, you're going to get ambushed. Ammo first. And maybe a grenade launcher. Yeah.
You catch the bus southeast into the slums of Havanatown, walk to Old Edna's place, swing open the rusty gate, and head into the jungle that is her front yard. You hurry through the long grass before you get surrounded by cats. A dozen of the things are sprawling on her front porch.

Edna shuffles around her kitchen, making you tea like she always does. "You're right in the thick of things now, aren't you, Johnny boy? Last time I talked to you, you had just done that job for the Russians. Now I hear all kinds of things about you on the grapevine. Probably some of them are true."

"Probably," you agree.

The wizened old widow hands you your cup of tea, then shuffles to her easy chair and settles in with a sigh. "You're getting in over your head, young man."

"Too late for that, Edna. Way, way too late. All I can do is try to meet this thing head-on." You take a sip of the hot, lemony tea. "In fact, that's why I'm here. I need to gear up a little. Some bullets for the magnum, and I was wondering if maybe you had something big around here. Like an M79."

"Eh heh heh!" Edna cackles. "An M79! Oh lawdy. Johnny, sometimes you play your cards close to the chest. Then sometimes, you're like a viking or some shit, somehow trapped here in this modern age. I think you missed your calling. You'd be happier jumping out a longship swinging an axe into some poor English boy's face."

"You may be right," you say. "For now I'll take the grenade launcher."

"Four hunnerd," she says, and cuts off your reply by adding, "No bargaining. Take it or leave it. These things don't grow on damn trees. It's fifty bones per frag. I'll give you a box discout, you can get five for two hunnerd."

You check your cash reserves. You've got about $850.

>Buy the launcher and X grenades
>Maybe something less expensive
>Maybe later
>Ask her something

>>863334
>Buy it with five grenades. See about a small .32 revolver for Zero.
>Tell her you'll bring over Alex sometime for tea and/or business, like you're bringing over your significant other to your ma's house for her to meet.
>Head out to Itch's place. Time to offer Zero a job looking up construction records on the Triad's vault thing.

"I'll buy it with five grenades," you say. "Also, maybe a little snub-nose revolver."

"Sure thing, dearie. Just let me go fetch the stuff." She stands up from her chair, rubbing her back, then shuffles off into the back storage lockers.

You check over the guns, nod with satisfaction. You rig the grenade launcher strap so the weapon sits on your back under your coat, toss the snub-nose into your pocket. "Thanks for doing business with me, Edna. I got a friend I'll bring by here sometime. Hell, it'll be like bringing her to my ma's house."

"Oh, Johnny. That's just too much." If Edna had any blood left in her body, she might blush. "You take care, now!"

Soundtrack: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vwYNZRecEl4

It's not far back to Inch's place in Sunset Springs, so you walk through Havanatown. This neighborhood is home to many of the city's disadvantaged minorities, which is a nice way of saying lots of poor black and Latino people live here. Bangers and hoodlums and youths in the freshest outfits of 1986 are hanging out and drinking from brown bags on apartment steps, in basketball courts, on park benches. One of those new-fangled boom boxes is blasting away.

As you pass by an alley, a skinny Latino man steps out from the alley. "Hey, man. Want some zebra?" he says. "Want some zombie? I got it right here."

>Buy some Z. Take it now. You deserve to get fucked up.
>Buy some Z. Save it for later, for ... research.
>Punch him in the face. "Don't do drugs."
>"No thanks."
>Something else

>>863444
>Punch him in the face. "Don't do drugs."
We gotta do some good deeds here and there, right? Is DARE a thing yet? Whatever, clock the fucker.

>>863444
"I'm more of a grass man myself, but experimentation's always been part of the game. What's the price for a hit of each?"

Save the Z for Itch's place. See if he has any way to check what's in that crap.

As for the doobie, that's for you.

>>862354
>Right. You got shot.
No. Left, we got shot.

>>863444
>Buy some Z. Save it for later, for ... research.
IIRC, zed triggers a violent rage, which means it possibly also brings dampened pain reception and a strength boost to the table. In fact, I'm tempted to say that the helmet guy from the docks was a zed-hed.

This might save our ass later down the road.

>>863444
>>863466
Also this. A little green's always nice.

>>863472
The news claims it causes violence and hallucinations. Of course, they also say that about weed.

>>863481
We can run the drug by Itchy when we get there and ask him if he knows what the effects of it are. If he doesn't know, Catherine will definitely know.

"Yeah, actually. Give me a hit of that. Got any grass? Give me some of that too."

"My man! I got you. Hand me the money, then go see my boy over there. He got what you need."

Two exchanges of handshakes later, and you are ten dollars poorer and in possession of two baggies, one containing several pre-rolled joints, the other, a small paper bag.

You stash the drugs, thinking about them the rest of the way over to the doc's place.

The doctor opens the door. Adjusts his glasses. "Johnny."

"Hey, Itch. How's it going?"

"It's "Inch", dumbass. And it'll be going real good once you get this damn boy out of my hospital, and yo'self as well." He turns and walks back inside, leaving the door open.

You shut the door behind you. "There some kind of problem?"

"Boy has a mouth on him. Won't shut up about some damn thing called the In-ter-net. You have any idea what that is?"

You shrug.

"Me neither." Inch sighs disgustedly. "Anyway, he's fine. Out of the woods. Recovery progressing. No strenuous activity. I should say for several weeks, but hanging around you, I'm sure he'll be running from the cops in no time. So I'm gonna say, give him forty-eight hours before you make him run or climb a building or whatever the hell it is you do when you're getting into trouble."

"Got it."

"Look. Johnny. I guess I'm worried about you, is all. You got a knack for finding trouble. Or trouble's got a knack for finding you. Either way. And because I got to worry about you, I got to worry about the people around you. You feel me?"

"Yeah. I feel you." You hear some kind of sound from Inch's office. Some kind of repeated clacking noise. "What's the noise?"

"See for yourself," says Inch, opening the door.

Zero is in Inch's office, making a racket as he types furiously on an old typewriter. TatatratatatratDING! tatatatratatrattattatDING!

You clear your throat, loudly, to get his attention. The typewriter stops, he looks up. "Hey, Zero," you say.

"Johnny!" he says. "Good to see you. Very busy. Without access to computers, programming ability is limited. But these notes will prove useful later."

You say ...

>Your place got shot up pretty bad. What are your plans?
>Sorry you got hurt on account of me.
>Got a job you might be interested in.
>Something else.

>>863532
>Sorry you got hurt on account of me.
>I got you something in case someone decides to pull that crap again. I'll teach you how to use it sometime, if you want.
>Got a job you might be interested in. Involves financially ruining the people who shot you.

>>863558
Don't forget to ask Inch about the Z before we leave.

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>>863532
>Notes? How the hell are you gonna...
>You know what? Nevermind. I don't wanna know.
>Sorry you got bumrushed for my actions.
>If you're not pissed at me for getting your door ruined and filing your place with buckshot pellets, I have a job that I think you'll like.
>If we do it right, we'll be shitting in the eye of the guys that paid you that social call.


>"It's "Inch", dumbass."
Well, fug :DD

"Notes? How the hell are you gonna ... you know what? Never mind. I don't want to know. Anyway, look. Zero. I guess those guys who came after you were looking for me. So, I'm sorry you got hurt on account of me.

"Anyway, to make up for it a little, I got you a present. Something in case someone decides to pull that crap again." You pull the snubnose out of your coat and show it to him. "The basics are real simple. Just point and pull the trigger. Click this thing off to shoot it, put it back on when you're done so you don't shoot yourself in the dick. I'll teach you more about how to use it sometime, if you want."

Zero takes the gun from you with reverent awe. "I've never owned a gun before. I ... I've never felt more American than this moment."

"Heh. Well, I'm glad you like it. If you're not too pissed at me for getting your door ruined and your place shot up with buckshot, I have a job you might be interested in. Involves a little payback for those guys."

"Oh really? What sort of job would require the skills of the world's greatest hacker?"

"Breaking into a highly secure location. Probably got top of the line modern security, lasers and electronic locks and shit. I'm a little unclear on the details, but it sounds like the sort of thing that's right up your alley. I should know more by tonight. Where can I get a hold of you?"

"Guess I'll be staying with my mom," he says. "She lives close by, here in Sunset Springs. I'll give you her number."

After he gives it to you, Inch tells him, "Now skedaddle out of my hospital, boy. You're discharged. Get over to your momma's house. I've got work to do in here."

Zero skedaddles. Inch sinks into his chair with a grunt and takes out his whiskey bottle.

"Hey, Inch," you say. "I had something to ask you too. What do you know about this new drug, Z?"

"Hrrrmph," he says, disgusted. "That shit is toxic as hell. For once the tee vee has it right. Gives people nightmares. Their fears and shit get a hold of them. Then, because they don't feel no pain, they freak the hell out and smash some shit like they're the Incredible Hulk. To top it off, you get hooked on the stuff. It's like the worst parts of acid, heroin, and angel dust, all in one needle."

"I happened to pick up a hit of the stuff on the way over," you say. "Think you could analyze it for me?"

"Analyze? The fuck you think this is, a chemistry lab? This is an illegal street hospital, Johnny. Plus, the shit's supposed to be un-analyze-able. Rumor has it there's some chemical in the stuff no-one can identify. No-one knows where the stuff comes from, or what's in it. They just take it, go crazy, and jump off a damn building, or stab their best friend. It's some real mystery devil shit."

>Why don't you take a look at it anyway, see if you can figure anything out.
>All right, I'll get rid of it.
>Thanks anyway. (Hang on to it)

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>>863623
>Thanks anyway. (Hang on to it)
That doesn't sound like my bag, baby. However... We COULD use this shit to stick a hostile mook and send them inside a place that we can't go because it's full of other hostile mooks.

>>863623
>>Thanks anyway. (Hang on to it)

File: miami wallpaper.png (3.67 MB, 1918x1084)

3.67 MB PNG

"Thanks anyway." You decide to hang on to the drug for now. Who knows what it might be useful for.

Soundtrack: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EPFDD2mqCwY

After Inch's place, you pick up your new Lincoln Continental and go for a ride, to clear your head. The palm trees and buildings pass by in a steady rhythm. The lights change from red to green. The waves on Sunset Beach crash and recede. The heartbeat of the city goes on.

------

Wrapping up for now. Hope you enjoyed Chapter 6 of Thug Quest.

When we return, Johnny and the gang meet up at Ken's house to plan the job of the century, a heist on the Triads' secret fortress, Dragon's Nest.

Until then, I'll be checking in on this thread, so go ahead and post any questions, feedback, or comments. Follow me at @ravenkingquests for updates.

Thanks for playing!

>>863623
>>Thanks anyway. (Hang on to it)

>>863657
Thanks for running, Odin!

>>863657
Damn, missed the thread, curse you Titanfall 2! Thanks for running boss!

>>863259
>No way in hell you can make it portable

You would be surprised.

>>863657
Thanks mate. Can't wait for more RAD.