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Earlier this evening, you helped Zero infiltrate the trapped hideout of a rival hacker, who to your surprise turned out to be a cute shortstack. After some quick diplomacy, you left the two hackers to their own devices. On the ride back to Ken's place, you bet Nick a fiver on whether by morning they'd have screwed each other or tried to kill each other.

Now you and Nick are sitting on the couch in Ken's living room in front of his old TV, taking a well-deserved rest from your labors by smoking joints and watching cartoons.

"We now return to Zaltron, Lords of the Universe!"

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eO_CmTds74w

Across a field of stars, a giant multi-colored robot flies through space with rocket boots.
Inside the cockpit, five youngsters in color-coded power suits are having a poorly dubbed conversation.

"We need to save the Princess and the Supercrystal from the Dark Sorcerer's moon prison!" shouts the red-suited one, clenching his fist dramatically.

"But the moon prison is protected by an impenetrable force shield!" wails the pink one, the token girl.

"Ackchyually ..." The small green guy pushes up his spectacles. "According to my calculations, an energy discharge of the correct electromagnetic spectrum should render the force shield inoperable."

"Uh ..." says everyone else.

The green one sighs. "If we zap it with the right thing, the shield goes poof. I estimate the energy created by a V-Reactor should be suitable."

"But where would we find an ancient technology like that?" asks the girl.

"I know who has one," says the black one. "The Evil Space Army."

"That's crazy!" says the blue one. "We can't take on the Evil Space Army!"

"We have to do whatever it takes," says the red one, this time clenching the other fist dramatically. "We have to save the Princess and the Supercrystal! The universe is depending on us!"

The giant robot streaks through space, all the kids shouting at once, "GO TEAM ZALTROOON!!"

>>887821
Important question.

Did we get some pizza on the way back home?

Nick is watching the television with a puzzled look in his bloodshot eyes. "Do you have any idea what is happening in this show?"

"Well ... those kids are the good guys, I guess. They fight aliens, and sometimes they jump into robots and fight aliens. And then sometimes all the little robots turn into one big robot and the big robot fights aliens."

He shakes his head in disbelief. Reaching forward, he takes another slice of pizza from the open box on the ring-stained wooden coffee table. You made sure to grab a couple boxes from Burn's place before leaving. "Can't believe this is what the kids are watching these days."

"That's what I thought, too," you say. "It's starting to grow on me, though. I mean really," you say, reaching for another slice of pizza yourself. "With good weed, anything can grow on you. Like this pizza. It might actually be terrible. But right now, it's amazing."

"It's the best pizza I've ever tested," says Nick. "Because it's the pizza I'm eating right now."

"Exactly." You take another bite and taste the cheesy goodness.

>Ask Nick what he thinks about the planned heist on Dragon's Nest.
>Ask Nick what he thinks about another group member (Alex, Catherine, Ryuji, Ken, Zero).
>Ask Nick about his past.
>Just chill out, eat pizza and watch Zaltron.
>Something else.

>>887885
>Something else.
Watch some more Zaltron, maybe invite Alex to the couch, then when a commercial comes on, flip it back to the news, see what's up with that Horizon scandal. The news mentioned biotech, they might be some sort of lead of that Z drug.

After that, see if Nick knows how to use an automatic weapon. He's going to need a bit more firepower for this then a pistol.

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>>887920
>>887885
A this, also, its nice to see you raven!

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>>887937

"So Nick," you say. "Any idea how to use an automatic weapon? I think you might be needing a little more firepower."

He shrugs, swallows his bite of pizza. "Used a Skorpion a few times when I had to. That sort of thing ain't my bag, Johnny. I'm a man of many talents. Fighting ain't one of them. I get guys like you to get me to the safe, I pop the safe, we all go home rich."

"Still. Sometimes push comes to shove. I'll see if I can get you an SMG."

Alex walks down the stairs onto the main floor.

"Alex!" You shift over, pat the couch beside you. "Come sit down! Smoke weed and watch Zaltron with us."

"Eh ..." She thinks about it, then shrugs. "Yeah, why not. It's not like tomorrow we're going up against yet another vicious band of killers." She flops down on the couch beside you. "Hit me."

You pass her the still-smouldering joint from the ashtray. She raises it to her lips, takes a drag, exhales smoothly like a pro. "Thank you, Mexican weed farmers," she says, coughs, hands it back to you.

On screen, some black-armored soldiers are marching in formation. A menacing alien in a purple cloak stands on a tower looking over them. "Soon my army will control the universe!" he cackles. "Nobody can stop me - not even Zaltron!"

"What the hell is this?" asks Alex.

"Zaltron, Lords of the Universe," you say.

"Some fuckin cartoon that makes no sense," says Nick. "Who are these armored guys?"

"This must be the Evil Space Army," you say. "The bad guys. The good guys have to get the special thing from them, so, uh ... so they can break into the fortress of the other bad guys."

"See?" Nick says to Alex. "Makes no sense."

An alarm is going off. The purple-cloaked alien looks around in dismay. "The perimeter alarm?!"

"General, sir!" One of the black-armored soldiers salutes. "Zaltron has breached our defenses!"

The purple-cloaked general claws at the sky. "Zaltroooonnn!!"

"I'll see what's on the news," you say, changing the channel.

(Continued)

"-cleared of all charges soon. For those of you not following this scandal, Kevin Lock, founder, Chairman, and CEO of Heat City-based Horizon Technologies, has been under investigation by a federal court for his corporation's ties to the supply of the drug scourge "Z". In recent years, rumors have surrounded Horizon Tech regarding their involvement with both the U.S.
government and the criminal underworld. Conspiracy theorists have alleged that Horizon Tech is a supplier of Z, or even the source of all Z in Heat City. However, federal spokesman Larry Britch says that these charges are baseless, and that an agreement has been reached between the government and Horizon. Business for Kevin Lock and his company should soon return to normal."

"What do you think?" you say. "Is Horizon involved in Z somehow?"

"Drugs have to come from somewhere," says Nick. "Albert Speer discovered LSD in 1943. Maybe this guy Lock discovered Z."

"Hoffman," says Alex.

"Eh?"

"Alex Hoffman discovered LSD," she says. "Albert Speer was Hitler's architect."

"Okay, sure, but anyway," says Nick. "Maybe they are doing it. They do biotech as well as computers, right? Organic chemistry stuff. Seems like the kind of guys who could just make a drug from scratch. They'd have the equipment for it, the money to start up production on a huge scale."

"That's pretty far-fetched," says Alex. "Kevin Lock's on TV all the time. Horizon has contracts with the feds. Could he really be some kind of drug-brewing criminal mastermind?" She looks at you. "What do you think, Johnny?"

>I think so. Where there's smoke, there's fire.
>You're right, that is pretty crazy.
>Maybe. I don't know.
>Something else.

>>888133
>Maybe. I don't know.
Still, if we're stealing the Triad's Z take, it'd be useful to know who may or may not be the ones behind it.

Regardless, Keven Lock looks like one of those corporate villains from an action movie, so there's gotta be something his company's doing that's not on the up-and-up. The mere fact that Ol' Larry's involved is proof, given how I keep hearing about kickbacks when there's anything involving him in our business circles.

"Maybe," you say. "I don't know. I do know that if we're stealing the Triad's Z money, it'd be useful to know whose money it really is. Also, Kevin Lock looks like a corporate villain from an action movie. So I don't trust him that much."

"I've seen that guy Larry Britch before, too," says Nick. "He's always on TV lying to cover the government's ass. He lied about how the CIA was selling cocaine, and that turned out to be true, remember?"

"I do remember," says Alex. "That is a good point. But this guy has enough money already, right? His legit business is one of the biggest corporations in America now. Why would he pull a stunt like this?"

You shake your head. "A guy like that can never have enough money."

Nick lets out a huge yawn, stretches his arms. "Anyway, cats, I'm going to go find a motel for tonight. Ken's place here is getting crowded. Good luck with your thing tomorrow." He heads out the front door.

You're alone with Alex, the TV news playing in the background.

>"How you holding up?"
>"Looking forward to stealing a small nuclear device tomorrow?"
>"You said you talked to some "old friends" earlier today ..."
>Ask her something about herself
>Something else

>>888210
>"How you holding up?"
>"Looking forward to stealing a small nuclear device tomorrow?"
>"Need anything for tomorrow?" (invite her to Edna's for gear.)

>>888226
>>888210
Segundo

"How you holding up?" you ask.

"Fine. I mean, I'm on the run from the cops and half the gangs in town. Planning to put my life on the line for money again, at least twice over the next few days. So yeah, I'm fine." A crooked smile crosses her face. "Business as usual."

"Yeah? How about stealing a small nuclear device tomorrow? That business as usual?"

"I have to admit I have never done that before. This will be a first."

"You need anything beforehand?"

"I'm good for now," she says. "Picked up another H&K and some ammo from a friend. But I have a few things in mind for the Triad heist that could come in handy."

"I know a gun supplier. Odds and ends. Might have something useful."

"All right, we'll check them out after the thing tomorrow. Have you still got the keys to those bus lockers?" she asks.

"Yeah," you say. "The million dollars that started this all should still be there. Plus some guns."

"So we load up on as much as we can carry. I think we're past worrying about spending the money being dangerous."

"You're probably right," you say.

Alex yawns. "All right, I got to hit the sack. Guess I'm crashing on Ken's couch here for tonight. You're staying upstairs, right? Why don't you head up there and let me get my beauty rest."

>Try to think of something clever or inspiring.
>Make a lewd suggestion.
>Just say good night and head upstairs.
>Something else.

>>888333
>>Just say good night and head upstairs.

>>888333
>Just say good night and head upstairs.

>>888333
Just spend the rest of the night on the couch with her. Zaltron's almost done, and you've got to put away the leftovers anyway. Plus, it'd be nice to see her sleep face.

"Good night," you say, standing up. "I'll put away the leftovers."

"Good night, Johnny."

On the way to the stairs, you steal a quick peek at her sleep face. So cute! Hrrrrngh. You head up the stairs, telling yourself you're a gentleman. A perfect gentleman. God damn.

------

Soundtrack: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CQPV5g-ZMRY

Ken's car speeds down the lane by the beach, palm trees passing by at rapid speed. The radio station is Alex's choice. She's air-drumming in the back seat, mouthing the words. In the driver's seat, Ken grumbles something under his breath in Japanese. Presumably it's something about kids these days and their damn rock music. You've got the passenger window down, arm on the windowsill, feeling the heat of the afternoon sun mixing with the cool wind rushing through your hair. What's left of your hair.

Ken says to you, "I was shocked when The Beatles were a thing. Now they have this "heavy metal". I don't understand music in America."

"It's pretty good to get ready to kill some motherfuckers," you say.

"Are you?" asks Ken. "Ready, I mean."

"To rip off a classified weapon from a black market deal? No problem. Easy," you lie, and look back out the window.

Ronnie James Dio's screams fades away. You think back to this morning.

Catherine got the three of you together in the living room. She had a map of the city spread out. "The deal for the device is taking place here, in an back parking lot under the elevated rail. Two sides. You can either attack them during the deal, make them think one of them's betrayed the other, and steal the device in the confusion. Or you can wait until it's finished, and ambush one of them as they leave. Questions?"

>Who are we stealing this from?
>What should I be worried about?
>What's a good escape route?
>Something else.

>>888499
>Who are we stealing this from?
>What should I be worried about?
>What's a good escape route?

"What do we have to worry about, here?"

"Enemies will be armed and paranoid. But they'll be expecting trouble from each other, not someone else. Also, the deal is black market, so what we don't have to worry about it this theft making the evening news. The seller will have already taken care of the paper trail."

"Who is the seller, anyway? Who are we stealing this from?"

Catherine hesitates. "I think it's best you remain objective in regards to-"

Ken interrupts, quietly. "Just tell them."

Catherine looks at him a moment, then sighs. "Fine. You're stealing from Black Spear. The organization within the police, who attacked you at the motel. They're selling the device to the Colombians. But don't let revenge cloud your judgement. This is a job with an objective. Retrieve the EMP. Evade pursuit. Bring it to the staging area, where you took the helicopter. Do NOT lose your head."

>Okay. (truth)
>Okay. (lie)
>Screw that. Those assholes are going to pay.

>>888579
>>Okay. (truth)
It's Ivan that we really want. Mind you, if I have to shoot them, I'll shoot them.

>>888579
>>Okay. (truth)

>>888579
>>Okay. (truth)
Get our shit, do the job, get paid, buy a ranch in Montana.

>>888579
>Okay. (truth)
A-We killed a bunch of those fags
B-We're already about to fuck them
C-Need to get rooskie, not "cop"

"Okay," you said, meaning it. You have higher priorities than knocking off some of these dirty cops. They're not going anywhere. You're going to get the job done. Get paid. Kill that damn Russian. And then maybe buy a ranch in Montana. It probably won't be so hot all the time up there.

Catherine gave you a look. But she believed you. "All right. By the time you're finished, I should be hearing from your hacker friend. Assuming you both are able to complete your tasks, the heist preparations will be in place. If we had to, we could go tonight. But it's worth taking an extra day to rest and prepare. Go over the plan. Johnny, do you think your arm will be better by tomorrow night?"

"I don't know about "better". But good enough."

"Then we'll plan to go tomorrow night."

Tomorrow night, you think. A grand heist, one worthy of the history books. One way or another, you'll be rich, famous, dead, or some combination of the three.

You just have to survive ambushing a squad of corrupt cops with possible paramilitary connections, in the process of selling a classified weapon to an infamous cartel.

You look out the car window, watching the blue water roll past in gentle waves. How hard could it be?

Alex leans forward. "Where do you want me set up, tough guy?"

>Sniping
>Flanking
>Right behind me

>>888667

Also, select one of Johnny's big weapons to bring. The trusty magnum is backup.

>AK-74 assault rifle
>M79 grenade launcher
>Ultimax 100 light machine gun

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>>888667
>Right behind me
Not again

>>888667
>Flanking
>AK-74 assault rifle

So whatever happened to our shotgun and our meat cleaver?

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>>888678
U-100

>>888706
Meat cleaver I suppose you still have with you. It would be awkward to leave Ken's brother's murder weapon lying around his house. The Spas-12 you left on the floor of the sex club, it's probably in a police lockup now. So long, Boris Jr.

>>888726
>So long, Boris Jr.
Ah, man. So many good memories of shooting gimps and flipping cop cars with it...

Tiebreaker vote, gents/ladies?

>Right behind me, Ultimax 100
>Flanking, AK-74

>>888792
I'll change to the Ultimax, but I'm still going to suggest a flank.

>>888792
>>Flanking, AK-74

"Flank them, but don't get too far away. I'm not letting us get split up. Not again."

You look at the back seat to find Alex grinning behind her aviators. "Something funny?" you ask.

"You care about me," she says, teasing.

Your brow furrows. "Just ... just flank them and cover my ass. I'm going to take point with this bad boy here."

You heft the now-familiar light machine gun. This came in real handy at the docks. When you need to lay down a serious volume of fire at a moment's notice, this is a damn fine tool for the job.

"Here we are," says Ken. "The lot is just down the street." He swings the car around, parks it facing the other way. "I will wait here for you. Remember: Disturb the water to catch a fish."

"Huh?" you say.

"Old Chinese saying. It means, create confusion and use it to get your goal."

"Oh. Why didn't you just say that? And aren't you Japanese?"

Ken seethes. "Just go fetch the damn EMP already. Baka gaijin."

(Continued)

>>888810
Love you too, Uncle Ken. See you later!

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You and Alex move forward into a wide dirt lot with two entrances, under the shade of the elevated rail. Full of cars, mostly beaters. But you can see three black vans parked near the other entrance. Loitering by the black vans are a handful of toughs with cop haircuts and bad attitudes.

You and Alex get into cover behind the nearest car. "Just got to wait until their friends arrive," you say, looking over the hood. "And here they are, right on schedule." You nod to Alex, and she takes off to find a flanking position. You hunker down and watch the new arrivals.

Three other vans arrive, white striped with rust. They pull up in small dust clouds some distance away from the other vans, behind them and facing the opposite way, so the van back doors are facing each other.

From the white vans emerge a group of Colombians in garish Hawaiian shirts, talking to each other in Spanish. What they lack in dress sense, they make up for in firepower. The Cartel back in Colombia regularly steals weapons from the army, and many of them make their way here. You spot some AK-47s, some Uzis, one M16.

Two of the off-book cops open the back doors of the center van, and out steps an older man. (pic) "Gentlemen," he says, with a polite smile. "We don't have much time, so let's get down to business. Have you got the money?"

"Show us the weapon, holmes," says the leader of the Colombian squad. "Then we show you the money."

The guy's smile remains firmly attached. But his voice strains a little. "Remember who's in charge here, "holmes". Show us. The money. Now."

The Colombian thinks about it. Thinks better of it. Waves to his followers. They pop the left van's back doors, bring out two suitcases.

>Hey ... maybe we could get the money AND the device.
>Just stick to the plan.

>>888826
>>Just stick to the plan.
Don't complicate anything just yet. Cash won't be too much of an issue tomorrow, anyway.

>>888826
>Just stick to the plan.

>>888826
>>Just stick to the plan.
We have enough money

Just stick to the plan. What was it that Ken said? Something about fish? If a cat catches a fish, then the water ... fuck it. You get the idea.

The cops bring out a big crate, about the size and shape of a trunk suitcase. "Here it is," says the older man. One of his cop goons crowbars open the top of the crate. The Colombian peers inside, laughs, rubs his hands with glee.

"¡Ay! When we set this puta off, nothing will stop us. Pleasure doing business with you, holmes."

"The pleasure's all ours," says the older man. "Now if you're kindly hand us the money?"

Now seems like a good time. Shifting the machine gun to your left hand, you pull out the trusty magnum with the other. You take a bead on one of the Black Spear assholes, a guy with a bushy beard and a chrome dome. He's probably wearing a vest, but that shiny head makes a nice target.

You sight in on the dome and pull the trigger. The top half of his head bursts like a watermelon at a Gallagher show.

Both sides immediately pull out their guns, go into panic mode. They're screaming at each other to drop their guns, while pointing frantically with their own guns. Someone fires - you can't tell who first - and then both sides are shooting, bullets spraying. Wounds erupt in flesh. Car windows shatter. A train passes over the rail above you with an incredible racket, adding to the chaos.

>Roll a d10 for this one.

>Go now! Grab the crate and get out.
>Open up with the machine gun, start killing who's left.
>Wait for the dust to settle first, then grab the crate.
>Wait for the dust to settle, then open up with the MG.
>Something else.

>>888866
>>Wait for the dust to settle, then open up with the MG.
If there's a BS guy still around after everything gets chewed up, drag them into a black van to ]ask them some questions.

>>888893
Roll a d10 and let's see how you do.

Rolled 2 (1d10)

>>888913
Shit, I forgot.

Here goes!

>>888914
Well, at least it's not two 1s in a row...

It's still shit, but it could be even shittier.

Rolled 9 (1d10)

>>888913
rollan

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>>888919

>>888926
why...

Rolled 5 (1d10)

>>888866
>>888929
Sorry I'm late. I hope this roll makes up for it.

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You wait a few minutes for the dust to settle, figuring that maybe both sides will cancel each other out. Unfortunately, it turns out there's a clear winner. The Colombians are dead in the dust, with still five of the cop assholes standing. "Kosinski," says the man in charge. "Call the cleanup squad. Get this shit squared away. I need to talk to the Major. Pick up the money and get this thing back in the van, we'll need to find another buyer-"

That's as far as we go, you think. Bracing the Ultimax on the car's hood, you line up and pull the trigger. Your first burst goes awry, though, catching one cop in the vest and going over the heads of the others. By the time you get the recoil sorted, the Black Spears (Spearmen? you think to yourself) have found cover behind their vans. They open up on you with shotguns and rifles, and you have no choice but to duck back down behind the car's engine block.

A different note joins the gunfire. Alex's assault rifle. You look over and see her hunkered down in a position with a great firing angle. You can't see it from here, but you hear the wet smack of bullets striking home and a cry of pain.

"Get the thing!" you hear her shouting. She ducks under a hail of return fire, sticks her gun out and blind-fires back.

Now or never, you think, and stand up ...

(Continued)

>>888948
>"We'll need to find another buyer-"
Responding to that would have been fucking gold.

>>888953
There's still time for a one-liner!

Soundtrack: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=26wrvblgGP0

You stride forward into the war zone, firing the Ultimax from the hip. They fire back at you, but the sheer volume of bullets from your gun makes up for accuracy, forcing the cops to keep their heads down instead of aiming. Still, this is way too close for comfort. A bullet strikes the dirt by your foot. Another whistles through the air by your ear.

You make it to the trunk-sized crate, slinging the machine gun over your shoulder onto your back. Alex opens up with another magazine, drawing the cops's attention. You dust your hands off. "Okay, how heavy can this thing be hhhhhrrrnrgnrghrgfffffuuuuuuuckmeeeee--"

You stagger off the way you came, gripping the crate tightly. Alex joins you, firing back at the cops. "Do you have that okay? Because it looks-"

"Shut up I got this just keep walking-"

You get to the car. Ken throws open the back of the car from the inside. Fortunately he brought one of those cars with a big fucking trunk. You hustle up the car, huffing and puffing from the weight of this giant fucking thing. You go to toss it in the back, realize the gadget inside might be breakable, and place it down gently.

Alex runs past. "Get in get in get the fuck in-" She throws open the passenger door, swings inside.

You throw yourself into the trunk beside the crate, thump on the car roof. "Go! Go now!" Ken slams down on the gas. You just barely get the trunk door closed in time for the crate to not go flying out.

Two of the black vans come peeling out of the parking lot, coming towards you. "We got company!" you shout behind you. Ken swears in Japanese, changes gears, throws the car into a high-speed turn. "Ohhhh shiiiit-" He swerves in an S around two civilian cars, slams the gears again, high-tails it down the straightaway.

The vans swerve around the corner behind you. One of them makes it through the two civilian cars, the other just smashes one right out of its way, keeps right on going.

Ken shouts, "I don't know if I can outrun them with this much weight!"

You shout back at him, "Are you calling me fat?!"

Alex is rolling down her window, rifle ready. "I'm on this!" she tells you.

>Knock out the back window, shoot the van drivers.
>Knock out the back window, shoot the van tires.
>Let Alex take the shot.

>>888968
>>Let Alex take the shot.

>>888968
>Let Alex take the shot.
She's proven that we can rely on her aim. I'm willing to bet she's got this under control.

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You let her take the shot. You've relied on her aim before, and she's come through. Here's hoping she can do it again. Instead of smashing windows and creating even more havoc in the car, you'll let her do her thing.

"Keep the car straight," Alex tells Ken. He does so, as best he can under the circumstances of a high-speed chase through the streets of a bustling city.

You look over your shoulder to see a professional at work. She leans halfway out the car, almost sitting on the window ledge. Her braid whips behind her in the wind. She raises the assault rifle to her shoulder. Braces. Sights. Exhales halfway. Squeezes the trigger.

Bang.

The front van's windshield in front of the driver's seat cracks in a bloody spiderweb.

The van wobbles, swerves sideways, crashes onto its side. Steel and glass shatter and splinter.

Another massive crash as the second van plows straight into the underside of the first one, sending the gas tank goes up in flames before the vans have even stopped scraping themselves across the pavement. The sound of grinding metal eventually stops, leaving only the car's engine.

You say, "Holy shit."

Alex ducks back inside the car. Rolls up the window. She's acting cool, but you can see a smile. "Not bad, huh?"

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

I'm done for tonight. Thanks for playing anons. Stay tuned to my twitter for more Thug Quest soon. @ravenkingquests

>>889010
"Damn right."

>>889017
Thanks for running!

>>889010
"I love you. Make sweet, hot love to me, on the hood of this car."

>>889017
See you around, Bossman. Hopefully soon.

>>888968
>>Let Alex take the shot.

>>889017
Thanks for running boss!

>>889027
>"I love you. Make sweet, hot love to me, on the hood of this car."
Explosive-sexual is a go.