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>(2/2)

You try to keep it all together but a primal grunt escapes your lips. They don't give you a chance to recover after that. It keeps getting faster and rougher. The begging prayers grow in volume as well but are drowned out by the moans coming from you as well as beneath you.

It builds and builds until it reaches a climax.

You grit your teeth and let out a feral snarl.

Euphoria envelops your body. The false world around you fades away and you fall into an endless black void. No wind breezes past your body or force picks up in your descent.

You don't make an effort to stop yourself. The afterglow of your release is too pleasing to break out of. If you had more experience with this kind of thing you wouldn't be taken back so much by an orgasm but then again you don't want to become a satyriac anyone can lead around by your dick.

It takes a long time for your bliss to die down. Your descent speeds up as your pleasure declines. Something is waiting for you at the bottom of this void. Cold, dark, and as old as life itself...yet strangely familiar.

You struggle to slow your descent but to no avail.

A resounding splash echoes throughout the void as you reach the bottom. The sensation of ice cold water envelops you. You open your eyes and see nothing but cold blue. Overwhelming panic overtakes you as you struggle to breath before realizing you don't need to. It takes a few minutes for you to get your bearings before you feel it again.

Nothingness incarnate.

You turn your head and gaze at a lithe woman with dazzling black lips and strange tattoos under her eyes as well as her mouth.

...

She looks familiar.

>[ ] "...Have we met before?"
>[ ] "...It's not called the little death for nothing, huh?"
>[ ] "...Can I help you?"
>[ ] "...Am I dead?"
>[ ] "...You wouldn't have happened to have seen any of what just occurred beforehand, have you?"
>[ ] "What the ever loving fuck are you?"
>[ ] "Alright, who's the traitor who offed me in my sleep?"
>[ ] Stay Silent.
>[ ] Write In.

>>2490034
>>[ ] "What the ever loving fuck are you?"

>>2490034
Great to see this back!
>[ ] This is why I never sleep.

Rolled 1 (1d2)

>[ ] "What the ever loving fuck are you?"
>[ ] "This is why I never sleep."

>>2490463
text code green is different than regular green text

for what purpose

>[X] "What the ever loving fuck are you?"

This should not be happening. She should not exist. Even if she is what you feel she is she shouldn't be here in the deepest corners of your mind. Despite all that, she is standing before you in what seems to be well-sculpted flesh.

Why does she look so familiar to you?

...

No, why does she feel so familiar to you? The void in your lungs, the still heart in your chest, the stinging of salt in your unblinking eyes, and the chilling sensation of sinking like a stone in cold water. You've felt all this before.

"What the ever loving fuck are you?" you ask.

She gives you a leering smile.

"I am what awaits everything in the end." The women begins "Cold, apathetic, yet necessary for life to continue to exist. I'm surprised you've forgotten me. Hard to blame you however. Few rarely want to remember what it feels like to scrape by my grasp. The few who do have told me it feels as though everything they are is rended apart forever in one agonizing moment in eternity. You've slipped by me two different times in your life. The first is rather debatable, you were still in your mother's womb when I held you in my arms. I can't fault you for not remembering then. Your mind was still primitive. If your mother hadn't torn you out of her, restarted your heart, and breathed life into you I would've been the only one to have held you as a babe. However, I am content with being the first."

Your eyes widen at the mention of your mother and her smile turns into a grin.

"Do you want to know if she still walks the Earth?" she asks.

>[ ] "...Yes."
>[ ] "...Keep going where you left off."
>[ ] "If I say yes, you aren't going to make me do anything like give you a piece of my soul, are you?"
>[ ] "Get the fuck out of my head!"
> Write In.

>>2490613
> No. Didn't need to know then, don't need to know now.

>>2490613
>>[ ] "Get the fuck out of my head!"

>>2490613
I didn't care much when I turned my 'father's chest cavity into a gaping mess, what makes you think I care about her? Is there going to be a point to any of this or are you just here to play armchair psychologist?

>>2490613
>>[ ] "...Yes."

>>2490613
Are we going to turn into mugga Thanos
>Sure,why the fuck not
>Inb4 she's a well known Hero

>>2490613
>>[ ] "If I say yes, you aren't going to make me do anything like give you a piece of my soul, are you?"

>[X] "...Yes."

When your father finally told you about him and your mother at the end of his little visit, he told you that he didn't know if she was still alive. The man was pretty torn up about it. You didn't ever realize it until after your mutation. Funny that you didn't really begin to understand or feel human until you weren't completely one anymore.

A part of you is screaming to tell her to fuck off but another is tugging at your almost non-existent heart-strings to say yes.

You don't know which one to listen to.

Your mother left you all alone in the streets with nothing but the blood you were covered in when you were born.

...But she also gave you life and the horns on your head.

If it weren't for her you wouldn't have ever gotten to experience power much less be anything more than a hollow puppet.

You close your eyes and open them again before answering her.

"...Yes." you whisper just loud enough so she can hear you.

She widens her eyes in surprise at you.

"You really have changed since last we met. The empty shell who kicked, scratched, and bit at me for dear life five years ago would've asked why he would even need to know if his mother was alive, it wouldn't help him survive in any way or benefit him." Her voice tone and expression shift to a strange sullenness. "She's dead, my sweet butcher, as much as everyone you've sent crying, screaming, and gasping to me. Tearing out a good deal of your internal organs leads to a lot of blood flowing out the body and the shield of bone she tore open to get to you was keeping the gaping opening in her abdomen from healing."

...

...

You always knew you'd someway have a hand in her death whether she'd become a liability to you or tried to apologize for abandoning you.

Turns out you killed her right at the start.

First stepping stone in a long road.

A giggle escapes your lips.

Just what did you expect?

This is just how it's always been

Death follows you wherever you go.

Literally, it seems.

Your giggle turns into full-blown laughter.

The woman watches in silence as you grip at your sides. It takes a while for you to die down and look back at her. She's waiting for a response.

>[ ] "Why are you here?"
>[ ] "Sooo, did you see what happened before you came here?"
>[ ] "Five years ago, huh?"
>[ ] "Just get the fuck out of here, already."
>[ ] Write In.

>>2491179
>Why are you here

>>2491179
>>[ ] "Why are you here?"

>>2491179
>>[ ] "Just get the fuck out of here, already."

>[X] "Why are you here?"

Cosmic entities shouldn't be popping up willy nilly just to talk to mortal sillys without a reason why. Anyone could randomly get mind-raped. It's another thing to have an actual conversation with a component of reality.

Your voice shifts back to your usual grim tone

"Why are you here?"

The woman smiles at you.

"I wanted to see who managed to attract her attention. I'm quite impressed by her choice and you. The only one she has ever given the time of day was that one girl with red hair. So much trouble rouse from her little fixation. How many times can you take someone as your unwilling vessel and ignore their opposition? It went on and on until she had her friend kill her to be free of her. She came back as you superhumans usually do but it didn't take long for her to die again."

You lift an eyebrow at her and she laughs before staring deep into your eyes.

"The being that made your hollow eyes twinkle with life is the one I am speaking of."

That gets your attention.

You part your lips to ask her what it was but she speaks again before you can say anything.

"Don't accept her if she comes for you. What you seek from her she will take from you. There is already another who exists outside the vale of this time she is waiting to return." her smile twists into a grin again and her eyes peer deeper into yours "If power is what you truly desire, I can give you plenty. All you must do is kill the man named Thanos when he appears on your world again. Then I will grant you great power beyond the physical strength you have now."

She disappears and reappears at your side before dragging a soul-rending finger down your chest. You try to move away from the searing sensation but can't. Her head rests on your shoulder and she whispers into your ear. "I will also give you my love if you desire it. You are quite the virile young male aren't you? I've seen the women as well as the men in your little sweet dream."

>[ ] "I-I'll consider it."
>[ ] "F-fuck off!"
>[ ] "Su-sure."
>[ ] "H-how are you any better than her?"
>[ ] "Th-the fuck's a Thanos?"
>[ ] Write In.

>>2491461
>[ ] "Th-the fuck's a Thanos?"
>[ ] "F-fuck off!"

just "fuck off" if OP wants just one.

>>2491494
I can do both.

>>2491494
>>2491503
I'll back then.

>>2491494
Ditto

>[X] "Th-the fuck's a Thanos?"
>[X] "F-fuck off!"

You don't have a clue who she's talking about.

"Th-the fuck's a Thanos?" you stutter out.

She takes a moment to think of how to describe the man to you.

"He's what you'd call my ex of sorts. I appeared to him when he was a child and got him to overcome his fear of dead things. After that, he slowly spiraled into a great genocidal murderer who destroyed entire worlds for my hand. It was quite romantic at first but he's grown far too pathetic and obsessed for my tastes. I'd much prefer someone like you, a born killer who crawled his way from murdering emotionlessly when he needed to into someone who murders happily when he wants to."

You really don't like this bitch.

"F-fuck off!" you growl at her.

Just like that she disappears, the false water around you disappears, and you're back to floating in nothingness.

"When your power fails you, the Pheonix burns you, and Thanos crushes you under his glove I will be waiting for you."

Her voice echoes infinitely around you.

>[ ] "None of that is going to happen."
>[ ] "I'll kill them all for myself and find a way to kill even you."
>[ ] "I'll kill whoever the Pheonix is waiting for and use her to crush Thanos and then find a way to kill you."
>[ ] "Just fuck off already."
>[ ] Stay silent.
>[ ] Write In.

>>2491670
>>[ ] "I'll kill them all for myself and find a way to kill even you."

>>2491670
>>[ ] "I'll kill them all for myself and find a way to kill even you."

>>2491670
>"None of that is going to happen."
No need to threaten a future resource.

[X] "I'll kill them all for myself and find a way to kill even you."

Fuck it. Thanos, the Phoenix, and even Death herself. You'll go against them all. Blood oozing from countless wounds and a soul screaming in agony. The Yakuza, Maggia, and Kingpin are just what your mother, childhood, and the Bronx were: stepping stones.

You gaze out into the void.

"I'll kill them all for myself and find a way to kill even you."

Booming laughter echoes around you.

It goes on and on for what seems like forever until you open your eyes.

The warehouse ceiling is what you first see. You blink a few times to register that you're back in the land of the living and move to lift yourself off the ground when you feel a sticky substance spread over your crotch. A groan escapes your lips.

"This is why I don't sleep often." you hiss to yourself.

>[ ] Strip down, head downstairs, and unload a full cooler of ice water on yourself. Considering you've never touched yourself, you're going to need all of it.
>[ ] Head to the gear area, strip down, wipe off whatever you can with your shirt, and change. Fuck your clothes. You're probably never going to get the stains out.
>[ ] Jump out the window and super-jump into the ocean. You might cause a big wave but who gives a shit. Avoiding the unpleasantness of having to explain why there's a large whiteish stain in your clothes to your boys is worth it.
>[ ] Write In.

>>2492019
>[ ] Strip down, head downstairs, and unload a full cooler of ice water on yourself. Considering you've never touched yourself, you're going to need all of it.

>>2492019
>>[ ] Strip down, head downstairs, and unload a full cooler of ice water on yourself. Considering you've never touched yourself, you're going to need all of it.

>[X] Strip down, head downstairs, and unload a full cooler of ice water on yourself. Considering you've never touched yourself, you're going to need all of it.

Groaning, you take off your shirt and slip out of your pants carefully to not get anymore of it on yourself but find much difficulty getting by the...tightness of them.

You don't waste anytime vaulting over your sleeping boys and down one of the ladder openings.

The moment your feet touch the warehouse floor, you dart to the nearest water cooler. You don't bother opening it. Gravity does all the work as ice chilled water pours over you. A few leftover glasses of beer bump off you and shatter on the ground.
It'd be an annoyance if you didn't have people to clean messes for you.

You throw the empty cooler off to the side and look down. Another groan of dismay escapes your lips.

"For the love of god, don't be priapic. I'm never going to hear the end of it."

A familiar feminine voice lets you know you're not alone.

"..Reyes-sama."

You turn your head to look over to the roundtable. Ren is sitting dutifully in her seat waiting for everyone else to wake up. Her long black hair looks uncharacteristically unkempt without being bunched up in her usual pony-tail. You notice her eyes going from your face, down to your muscled chest, and stopping at your crotch.

She blinks a few times and just stares in silence.

>[ ] "...Had a rough night?"
>[ ] "It's not too big is it?"
>[ ] "Don't tell Alex."
>[ ] "My eyes are up here."
>[ ] Walk up to her and snap your fingers in front of her face.
>[ ] Jump back upstairs, dry yourself off with a towel from one of your gear bags, and get dressed.
>[ ] Write In.

>>2493067
>>[ ] "My eyes are up here."

>>2493067
>>[ ] "My eyes are up here."

>[X] "My eyes are up here."

A sly smile forms on your lips.

"My eyes are up here."

Ren's face burns a bright crimson. Her eyes slowly trail their way back to your face. You'd be mad at her for taking her time but you're enjoying it far too much than you should.

"H-hai, Reyes-sama." she says. The girl rises out of her chair and gives you an apologetic bow. "Forgive me for my lack of discretion."

You let out a pleased hum. For a girl who's spent most of her life living in America she sure hasn't forgotten her overly gracious Japanese customs. Must've been her parents. She still checks in on them from time to time despite her being disowned along with her sister for being gang members. You can't help but wonder if they know Run is dead.

>[ ] Sit down at the roundtable and have a chat with Ren about the past. There's no time like the present to reminisce about the past.
>[ ] Sit down at the roundtable and have a chat with Ren about her parents. The fact that she's chatting with them means they have precious power over her that could be going to you.
>[ ] Sit down at the roundtable and have a chat with Ren about how she's doing. You haven't checked up on her in a while. She's usually so quiet and submissive you don't feel the need to.
>[ ] Sit down at the roundtable and have a chat with Ren about your crazy ass encounters with Cosmic forces. You've gotta tell someone about this crazy shit. Even if she doesn't believe you.
>[ ] Jump back upstairs, dry off, and get dressed. There's a lot to do today.
>[ ] Write In.

>>2493368
>[ ] Jump back upstairs, dry off, and get dressed. There's a lot to do today.
Places to go people to curbstomp

>>2493368
>>[ ] Sit down at the roundtable and have a chat with Ren about how she's doing. You haven't checked up on her in a while. She's usually so quiet and submissive you don't feel the need to.

>>2493368
>Sit down at the roundtable and have a chat with Ren about how she's doing.

>>2493368
>>[ ] Jump back upstairs, dry off, and get dressed. There's a lot to do today.

>>2493393
Ditto

>[X] Sit down at the roundtable and have a chat with Ren about how she's doing. You haven't checked up on her in a while. She's usually so quiet and submissive you don't feel the need to.

She was tossing and turning in her sleep. Maybe it's nothing or maybe death decided to pay a visit to her too. You also kept everyone pent up in the warehouse for an entire day waiting for you to get back. News of the Yakuza's destruction may have raised morale but there's still the matter of the Maggia as well as Kingpin to attend to. Marcus was stressed enough about them to drink.

You walk over and take a seat next to hers. She looks back at you with a questioning look. It disappears when you motion for her to sit down. Ren obediently complies.

"How have you been doing? It's been a while since we've had a talk. As one of my closest and oldest as well as experienced lieutenants, your well-being is vital to the overall effectiveness of our crew."

She looks a bit taken back by your concern. You can see her visibly mull over her what to say to you. It's what she usually does when you ask her something personal. Her word choice is always cautious. You can't tell whether it's out of fear, respect, or her upbringing.

"I am fine, Reyes-sama. Nothing of significant importance has impacted me negatively. In fact, I am quite pleased by recent events. Your targeting of the Yakuza as well as your handling of their chapter here in New York. I was doubtful that Kenji Itsuki would give Seong Woo-Jin over so easily but you managed to convince him to tell you his location and join us. It was a masterstroke in every sense of the word. Silvio Manfredi is the best target to go after next. If we had moved against Hammerhead, Silvio would have rightfully deduced that we had made a power grab considering the Yakuza's lack of experienced foot-soldiers. Choosing to go after Kingpin so soon would have probably ended badly for us. From what you told me of the assassin who fended you off, he would most likely have the most well-trained mercenaries and super-humans protecting him from assassination. Warfare would be our only choice after a failed assassination attempt. Semi-automatic handguns loaded with ball ammo are our best firearms and there are only enough kevlar vests for the members of the round-table who aren't you. It would've been disastrous for us."

A pleased grin spreads onto your face.

But is she leaving something out?

>[ ] "You don't look like you slept well. Had a bad dream?"
>[ ] "Are you worried Itsuki is going to take your place?"
>[ ] "You aren't holding out on me, are you?"
>[ ] "Good, I'm going to go get dressed."
>[ ] "I planned on buying some mil-spec from the Bratva later today. Want to tag along when the time comes?"
>[ ] Give her a head pat and make your way upstairs.
>[ ] Write In.

>>2493910
>[ ] "You don't look like you slept well. Had a bad dream?"
>[ ] "I planned on buying some mil-spec from the Bratva later today. Want to tag along when the time comes?"

>>2493910
>>[ ] "I planned on buying some mil-spec from the Bratva later today. Want to tag along when the time comes?"

>>2493910
>>[ ] "You aren't holding out on me, are you?"

>>2493941
Ditto

>[X] "You don't look like you slept well. Had a bad dream?"
>[X] "I planned on buying some mil-spec gear from the Bratva later today. Want to tag along when the time comes?"

Quite a few of your boys usually have nightmares. Whether about you, something they've done in the past, sick shit they've seen done to someone, or sick shit that they've experienced for themselves. They're all used to them. Ren didn't really sleep much after she joined your crew. You spent a lot of time keeping an eye on her, she was one of the few people who've ever gotten close to actually killing you post-mutation. The times she did sleep, she didn't toss and turn like she did last night.

"You don't look like you slept well. Had a bad dream?"

She pauses for a moment and looks down at the round-table.

"...I dreamed that I was with nee-san at the Akita Kanto Matsuri. The lanterns glowed and shined over us as we followed a parade. We gossiped about our friends, danced to the beat of the taiko drums, and tried balancing the kanto poles with advice from the performers. It was when we started walking home did I notice something was strange. Nee-san kept teasing me about a boy I had met at school. I asked her who she was talking about before she mentioned that he was a hāfu with horns on his head. She disappeared after that. I ran through the empty streets calling out her name. I eventually gave up and went home. My parents pushed me out the door when I told them the news. I broke down on the apartment steps. That's when I heard someone call out my name. I looked up and saw you dragging my sister to me in one hand with a satchel bag in the other. You sent her skidding across the pavement to my feet. I checked to see if she was alright but her throat had been torn out. You threw the satchel bag at me next. It opened and my chain-blade as well as my gun fell out. You simply stared at me until I picked them up. One second, I was whipping my blade overhead and the next staring at you from the floor with my heart in your hand. I died with you taking away all that meant anything to me."

...Well, it's not the worst nightmare involving you you've ever heard before.

You sit together in silence before you remember what you planned last night.

"I planned on buying some mil-spec gear from the Bratva later today. Want to tag along when the time comes?"

She raises her head to face you again.

"...Yes."

Ren turns her gaze back down to the round-table

>[ ] "Why are you still with me?"
>[ ] "Do you hate me?"
>[ ] Go back upstairs and change.
>[ ] Write In.

>>2494811
>[ ] "Why are you still with me?"

>>2494811
>"Why are you still with me?"

>>2494811
>>[ ] Go back upstairs and change.
This is the girl whos bro we made her off, right?

>>2494838
Her twin sister actually.

>[X] "Why are you still with me?"

Alex stuck with you out of some strange infatuation, Marcus has always had no one else to turn to, and Jesus probably realized you were the real fucking deal when you fended off the Bratva attack despite the heavy losses on your side. Ren has always seemed like she kept around out of fear. It's only natural, self-preservation is a living being's most second-most prime directive behind reproduction. You just don't quite understand why she hasn't tried to run away from you yet.

"Why are you still with me?"

She raises her head to meet your gaze again.

"There is no where else I could go. My mother and father despise me, I was expelled from middle school after crippling a boy, part-time jobs are all I can apply for and they don't pay or offer enough hours to rent a home, I doubt I could have started another multi-ethnic group on my own back when racial tensions were still high thanks to the ethnic gangs we eventually assimilated, the Yakuza would have most likely put me to work at a street-corner if I went to them after they arrived, the Maggia wouldn't take what they'd see as a homeless thug into their fold, and Kingpin already has international operating assassins under his employ. You would have hunted me down and killed me if I tried to desert you before I could make much progress. Admittedly, I had thoughts of betraying you after you formed the original inner circle but as time went on I realized you were someone I could rely on, Reyes-sama. You were cautious yet ruthless when you needed to be. I do not know you as Marcus does but I am thankful to be serving under you."

...

You always knew you had power over her but didn't ever realize just how much you did.

The feeling of something rising gets your attention. You look down and groan.

"Reyes-sama?" Ren calls out in concern.

You were just down to half-mast.

>[ ] "Anything else you want to get off your chest?"
>[ ] "Can you go upstairs and pick out an outfit for me?"
>[ ] Go upstairs and change. Maybe it'll go down if you avoid talking with the increasingly pretty-looking Japanese girl for a short while.
>[ ] Write In.

>>2495603
>Anything else you want to get off your chest

>>2495603
>>[ ] Go upstairs and change. Maybe it'll go down if you avoid talking with the increasingly pretty-looking Japanese girl for a short while.

>>2495603
>[ ] Go upstairs and change. Maybe it'll go down if you avoid talking with the increasingly pretty-looking Japanese girl for a short while.

>[X] Go upstairs and change. Maybe it'll go down if you avoid talking with the increasingly pretty-looking Japanese girl for a short while.

>(1/2)

Choosing to have a heart-to-heart conversation completely naked seemed like a great idea at first. You'd kind of but not rub in her face that she's completely yours, let her drool over you, and jump back to the second floor to change. Did not expect her to say it herself in such a way, you did. It pleased you a bit too much.

You sit up from your seat. Ren tries to say something but pauses when she sees it again. A hop takes you past the pieces of broken glass and another back upstairs.

"Buenos dias, patron." you hear someone say behind you.

From emotionless tone alone you can tell it's Jesus. The ruckus you made downstairs probably woke him up. You wave backwards at him, walk over to where you slept, pick up your dirty sweaty clothes, and make your way to the gear area.

Once again, the duffel bag containing your clothes zips open. There's only casual clothes inside. You've tried to wear more formal clothing before but found suits to be far too uncomfortable and restricting. Where are you going to dressed so fancy for anyway? As a visibly mutant human you aren't exactly welcomed anywhere high profile. Besides that, you aren't some poser criminal "businessman" like Kingpin or Silvermane. You're a gang leader. People pay you money to leave them alone or someone close to them gets tortured, beaten, drugged, fucked, or sold on the streets before they die. There is no compromise or honor among criminal organizations. You get down or get put down.

>(2/2)

A red polo shirt and another black pair of casual slacks are what you pick out. Red helps hide blood stains. As for the black, it goes with everything.

The shirt slips on without a hitch but the pants are a bit more difficult for you.

You turn to gaze at yourself in one of the mirrors. There's still a bright twinkle in your eyes. Pheonix or whatever the hell Death was talking about showed you real power. If it rejects you or tries to control you, so be it. You'll kill her vessel, destroy her if need be, and take care of Thanos if he comes for Earth. Power is the only thing you need and you know just how limitless it is now. All you need to do is find a way to achieve it on your own. Your erection has also gone down to a semi.

Time to get to work.

>[ ] Get rid of your old clothes, no one must ever know.
>[ ] Wake up your entire crew.
>[ ] Wake up the rest of your inner circle.
>[ ] Check on the guardsmen you posted on the rooftops last night.
>[ ] Go to make a deal with the Bratva alone. Better to show them you're unarmed and willing to talk mano y mano.
>[ ] Go to make a deal with the Bratva with just Ren. Going in with the entire crew, inner circle, or a trained hitman like Jesus is just asking for trouble.
>[ ] Go to make a deal with the Bratva with Ren and Jesus. You're going to need the back-up just in case anything goes wrong. They're not going to fuck around after what you did last time.
>[ ] Write In.

>>2498191
>>[ ] Get rid of your old clothes, no one must ever know.
He is so awkwardly funny

>>2498191
>[ ] Get rid of your old clothes, no one must ever know.
>[ ] Wake up your entire crew.
>[ ] Wake up the rest of your inner circle.
>[ ] Check on the guardsmen you posted on the rooftops last night.

>>2498191
>>[ ] Get rid of your old clothes, no one must ever know.
>>[ ] Check on the guardsmen you posted on the rooftops last night.

>>2498191
>Get rid of your old clothes, no one must ever know.
>Check on the guardsmen you posted on the rooftops last night.

>[X] Get rid of your old clothes, no one must ever know.
>[X] Check on the guardsmen you posted on the rooftops last night.

No one must ever know.

Also, that's a lot of DNA evidence. Some random mad scientist can just scoop up a handful and clone himself a vat of little Afro-Mexican super minotaur devils with your face on them. You can check up on your boys outside when you're done torching your seedlings.

You pick up the dirty dirty clothes, open a window, hop out, and breeze through the early morning streets to a small automotive store.

The lock breaks when you turn the front door open. There are no visible cameras inside the place. You close your eyes and take a whiff of the air. A grimace forms on your face when you make out the smell of gasoline behind the counter. You slide over and pick up the red container with your free hand. Closing your eyes again, you take another whiff of the air. It's hard to pick up anything through the noxious haze of gasoline but you make out the scent of sulfur in the register. You raise an eyebrow and smash it open with an elbow. Inside, a few matches lay next to shallow rows of money along with a few hidden cigarettes. You drop the gasoline can to put the wooden end of a match in your mouth before picking it up again.

Walking out the front door, you don't waste any time dropping your used clothes behind the curb. You empty the can of gas onto them, strike the match against your teeth, and flick it into the floating pool of petroleum. A bright fire erupts from it. You gaze at it until it completely consumes your old pants and shirt.

You sigh in relief. That's one embarrassing explanation you will never have to give to anyone anytime soon. If only you could avoid sleep altogether or your body's innate desire to fuck.

A hop takes you to the roof of the store and from there you go rooftop to rooftop back to your abandoned neighborhood.

Your impromptu guardsmen let out sighs of relief when they see you flying through the air. None of them are missing but they all look like they could use some rest.

>[ ] Take them all back to the warehouse. You didn't get shot up in your sleep so they deserve some of their own.
>[ ] Leave them at their stations for now and go back to the warehouse. If they've made it this far they can at least wait till everyone's awake.
>[ ] Ask them all individually if they've seen anything suspicious.
>[ ] Write In.

>>2499060
>[ ] Rotate them out with a fresh guard. Get reports as they swap and let them rest.

>>2499068
this is a good idea if we don't have a guard system all the time

>>2499068
This

>>2499068
Ditto

Also how familiar is kojo with the smaller players? We should try to recruit tinkerer and/or shocker if we can. We could get some serious tech off of them.

>[X] Rotate them out with a fresh guard. Get reports as they swap and let them rest.

You've never really felt the need to have guards posted outside the warehouse before. Security came from the inconspicuous abandoned neighborhood. It's why dozens have gangs have settled in the place over the years. The perfect squatting place is what you thought it was when you were a kid. It was only when you heard gunfire shoot off in the night air did you realize why it wasn't populated by homeless or other street-rats. After the Bratva shot up your old warehouse hideout, you moved over to this one. It took a bit of effort to get all the bums who settled in out though. The situation has changed since then. Someone knew where you were yesterday morning, shot up a place you were in, and got you face to face with a police response squad. You decided on making an example of one of the big dogs in response. It might take a while for the word to spread but when it does Kingpin, Silvermane, and even Hammerhead are going to want a word with you. Kingpin might skip the parley and cut right to the attack. Unlike Silvio, Kingpin knows full well what he's fucking with.

One by one you check on the posted guards and replace them with a fresh forcibly awakened member of your crew. None of who you posted report anything unusual. They didn't have anyone to fuck all night so you believe them.

You finish taking the last one of your old guardsmen back inside the warehouse. Everyone you haven't woken up is still asleep.

There's still a lot to do today.

>[ ] Wake up the rest of your crew and have them gear up.
>[ ] Wake up Alex and Marcus. Your boys can have their beauty sleep but you need your lieutenants to recommend plans of action against Silvermane and ways to approach the Bratva for a deal.
>[ ] Go over plans for Silvermane with just Ren and Jesus. Alex would recommend something crazy and Marcus is probably going to be too busy nursing a hangover to think of anything.
>[ ] Go to make a deal with the Bratva alone. Better to show them you're unarmed and willing to talk mano y mano.
>[ ] Go to make a deal with the Bratva with just Ren. Going in with the entire crew, inner circle, or a trained hitman like Jesus is just asking for trouble.
>[ ] Go to make a deal with the Bratva with Ren and Jesus. You're going to need the back-up just in case anything goes wrong. They're not going to fuck around after what you did last time.

>>2499345
>[ ] Go to make a deal with the Bratva with Ren and Jesus. You're going to need the back-up just in case anything goes wrong. They're not going to fuck around after what you did last time

>>2499345
>[ ] Wake up the rest of your crew and have them gear up.

>>2499345
>>[ ] Go to make a deal with the Bratva with Ren and Jesus. You're going to need the back-up just in case anything goes wrong. They're not going to fuck around after what you did last time.

Equipment and weapons first.

>>2499345
>[ ] Go to make a deal with the Bratva with Ren and Jesus. You're going to need the back-up just in case anything goes wrong. They're not going to fuck around after what you did last time

>[X] Go to make a deal with the Bratva with Ren and Jesus. You're going to need the back-up just in case anything goes wrong. They're not going to fuck around after what you did last time

Marcus is probably going to be hungover and Alex is Alex. She's good at slitting throats but not so good at keeping her knives in her pants. Knowing her, she'd probably gush at one of their serrated steel combat knives before trying to swipe it. Negotiations would sour, they'd draw their guns, and then you'd have to prepare for a retaliation hit squad for attacking Bratva operations again.

You look back to the corner of the warehouse you last saw Jesus at. There's nothing but empty space. Looks like he's already gone downstairs.

With a shrug, you walk over to one of the ladder openings and fall back down to the first floor.

You glance at the round-table and true enough Jesus is seated next to Ren. He has his usual blank look on his face. You're not sure if the man is genuinely incapable of feeling emotion, heavily traumatized, or autistic. It's probably a strange mix of all three.

A leap takes you over the shards of broken glass. You motion for them to stand up and make your way to the warehouse gate. After a few button inputs, the gate opens.

"Where are we going, Patron?" Jesus asks.

You turn and say, "We're going to make a deal with the Bratva. Marcus talked with me about our gear last night. He made a good point and I decided we'd get some mil-spec equipment to even the odds with the rest of the big boys"

He takes a moment to process the information before responding.

"Should I leave behind my gun? Señorita Yamazaki is not carrying any weapons."

>[ ] "Take it and, Ren, take your weapons. If things go well, we won't need them but it's better to have it and not need it than to need it and not have it."
>[ ] "Go upstairs, take all the weapons you need, and get a vest on both of you. I don't want lose two lieutenants if things go south."
>[ ] "Leave it, I'm all the weapons and gear we need. Just take cover behind me if they start shooting"
>[ ] Write In.

>>2500904
>[ ] "Take it and, Ren, take your weapons. If things go well, we won't need them but it's better to have it and not need it than to need it and not have it.

>>2500904
>>[ ] "Go upstairs, take all the weapons you need, and get a vest on both of you. I don't want lose two lieutenants if things go south."

>>2500904
>>[ ] "Go upstairs, take all the weapons you need, and get a vest on both of you. I don't want lose two lieutenants if things go south."

>[X] "Go upstairs, take all the weapons you need, and get a vest on both of you. I don't want to lose two lieutenants if things go south."

If the Bratva sees them geared up they'll be a bit suspicious. Then again you could just say you brought them as leverage for them to hold against you. You are bullet-proof and the survivors of their little hit squad most likely made sure to report that. Not really convincing when they're armed as well as armored but it kind of works when you're walking into their heavily guarded home turf with only two of your boys. Whether things go south or well depends on how you approach all of this.

"Go upstairs, take all the weapons you need, and get a vest on both of you. I don't want to lose two lieutenants if things go south."

Jesus nods and Ren bows. You stand guard outside the entrance as you wait for them to come back. It doesn't take long for you to hear the familiar faint jingling of Ren's bladed chain whip.

You look back and see the faint protrusions of a kevlar vest under their zipped jackets. Jesus as usual has El Papa concealed in such a way that no one would notice without a frisking. Ren's whip is a bit more noticeable thanks to the sound it gives off but it can easily be dismissed as jiggling keys. She wraps it around her entire arm to make sure the noise is kept to a minimum and to leave no visible signs of a weapon in her sleeves. It's a wonder how she doesn't cut herself when she does that. Even when she takes it out, she doesn't leave a mark on her arms. You're not sure if she brought a gun but you have full confidence in her skills with that whip. Ren and Run took turns severing every major tendon in your body over and over again with those things. It took an assist from Marcus to create the opening you needed to knock them both out. You couldn't hear for a while but you won in the end.

Time to head out.

>[ ] "Do any of you know how to drive?"
>[ ] Grab them and rooftop hop to the Bratva base of operations in Brooklyn.
>[ ] Walk to a phone booth and call a taxi.
>[ ] Write In.

>>2501200
>>[ ] "Do any of you know how to drive?"

>>2501244
Ditto

>[X] "Do any of you know how to drive?"

You don't feel like having to take it slow for anyone again and taxi ride have been awkward lately.

"Do any of you know how to drive?"

Jesus raises his hand.

You lift an eyebrow at him and he replies.

"My father taught me back in Colombia. He took me on my first drive-by hit the same day."

No better time to pick anything up like your adolescence.

>[ ] Walk to a car dealership in the Bronx that pays you protection money. You're sure they won't mind you borrowing one of their rides. What's theirs is yours, after all.
>[ ] Go car jacking, what could possibly go wrong?
>[ ] Just walk to a phone booth and call a taxi.
>[ ] Just Grab them and rooftop hop to the Bratva base of operations in Brooklyn.
>[ ] Write In.

>>2501314
>Walk to a car dealership in the Bronx that pays you protection money. You're sure they won't mind you borrowing one of their rides. What's theirs is yours, after all.

>>2501314
>Walk to a car dealership in the Bronx that pays you protection money. You're sure they won't mind you borrowing one of their rides. What's theirs is yours, after all.

>[X] Walk to a car dealership in the Bronx that pays you protection money. You're sure they won't mind you borrowing one of their rides. What's theirs is yours, after all.

You walk out with Jesus and Ren after shutting the gate. The nearest dealership near you is in Mott Haven. It didn't take much to get the owner to hand over cash. He was already paying protection to some big "Aryan" gang you brutalized and assimilated. Master race your ass. They were trash like every other race supremacist shithead you played like a fiddle when you were little.

It takes over an hour for you to get there on foot. Along the way, a few early risers go through the same revelation process you witnessed yesterday. Some leftover pimps from last night working the street-corners with their girls stop to hand you early payments for their continued business but you brush them away. You've seen resentment pop up over gangs doing that kind of shit to their protectees. It usually led to someone getting shot, flipping over to another crew, police getting anonymous tips, and the occasional gang war. You send your crew out to collect at the end of every week for pimps and drug dealers. Establishments like retail stores, clubs, restaurants, construction companies, bars, and the car dealership you're going to right now pay monthly at varying costs depending on their intake as well as business or they face the consequences.

Various different cars populate the dealership lot. You examine every one of them with some amount of interest. It doesn't take long for the attendee to notice and walk over.

"H-how can I help you today, sir? Are you here to purchase a vehicle fitting of your status or on business waiting for Mr.Yates?"

>[ ] "Jeffery won't mind if I borrow something will he?"
>[ ] "What would you recommend for something inconspicuous and fast?"
>[ ] "No, thank you. I don't know how to drive and I only collect at the end of the end of the month. I'm here to borrow something."
>[ ] "Not scared of the big bad mutant?"
>[ ] Ignore him and pick out a car.
>[ ] Write In.

>>2501577
>[ ] "No, thank you. I don't know how to drive and I only collect at the end of the end of the month. I'm here to borrow something."
Are we familiar with this particular salesman at all? Ask how his family is.

Kojo knows you

>>2501608
>Are we familiar with this particular salesman at all? Ask how his family is.
Just some guy that's probably seen Kojo talk with the manager before or heard the rumors.

>>2501577
>>[ ] "No, thank you. I don't know how to drive and I only collect at the end of the end of the month. I'm here to borrow something."

I feel like kojo would only remember someone that impressed him or that he killed.

>>2501577
>[ ] "No, thank you. I don't know how to drive and I only collect at the end of the end of the month. I'm here to borrow something."

>[X] "No, thank you. I don't know how to drive and I only collect at the end of the end of the month. I'm here to borrow something."

You have no idea who Mr. Yates is. Whether he's the owner or the manager it doesn't make much of a difference, you still get money from this place. For some reason, the name Jeffery vaguely springs to mind. No white bossman's name would be something as dipshit sounding as Jeffery. Everyone would laugh at a Jeffery trying to act in charge. Jeffery and Yates together sound a lot like the name of someone who'd regularly get fucked in the face.

"No, thank you. I don't know how to drive and I only collect at the end of the month. I'm here to borrow something."

The attendee takes a moment to process what you just said as you continue to browse their selection.

"Y-you can't-"

You turn and glare at him from the corner of your eye. He shivers in place before changing his tone.

"Letmeknowwhatyouwantandi'llgetyouthekeys." he rapidly says.

A pleased smile makes its way onto your face and you turn back to browse.

>[ ] "Ren, what do you think we should get?"
>[ ] "Jesus, what do you think you can ride best?"
>[ ] "What's-your-face, you got anything inconspicuous and fast?"
>[ ] Browse on your own.

>>2501911
>[ ] "Jesus, what do you think you can ride best?"

>>2501911
>[ ] "What's-your-face, you got anything inconspicuous and fast?"

>>2501911
>>[X] "Jesus, what do you think you can ride best?"

>[X] "Jesus, what do you think you can ride best?"

Since he's the one driving and you've never been behind the wheel once in your life, it's best to let Jesus pick what he thinks he could ride.

You turn to your left-hand man and ask, "Jesus, what do you think you can ride best?"

He pauses for a moment to gather his thoughts before answering.

"I'm used to driving family cars, patron. There's too much weight in trucks for me to handle and I have a bad habit of making sharp turns that flip small cars over at medium speeds."

You'd ask how that last bit is even possible but you're sure you're going to find out soon. Something medium would be a mini-van or a station wagon. There's also small BMWs that fit the bill of a family car.

>[ ] Go for a small BMW, you like big girthy things.
>[ ] Go for a station wagon, length beats girth every time.
>[ ] Go for a min-van, length and girth go together like peanut-butter and chocolate.
>[ ] "Ren, what do you think we should get?"
>[ ] "What's-your-face, you got anything inconspicuous and fast?"
>[ ] Write In.

>>2502408
>What's your opinion, Ren?

>>2502408
>>[ ] Go for a station wagon, length beats girth every time.

>>2502408
>[ ] Go for a station wagon, length beats girth every time.

>[X] Go for a station wagon, length beats girth every time.

In your experience, length beats girth every time. The thicker something is the harder it is to pull out of tight places. Not to say they're not unpleasant or anything. You'd simply prefer something that wouldn't be caught in another something.

You walk up to a relatively modern-looking black station wagon with both your lieutenants following behind you and wave for the attendee to come to you. He scurries over and takes a look at your choice.

"A-ah, a Ford Focus Wagon. Good eye you got there. The seats are made of-"

A raised hand of yours cuts him off.

"I don't need you to sell me on the ride. Just get me the keys and I'll be on my way."

The attendee darts to the main building, leaving you alone with Ren and Jesus. You turn to raise an eyebrow at your resident driver and get a nod of approval back. Ren doesn't notice you glancing at her. She's just staring at it.

"Long, black but not thick like..."

You snap your fingers in front of her face and she snaps out of it. Her face goes a bright crimson at the realization. She gives you a few apologetic bows before turning to look away from your gaze.

After a few minutes, the man comes back with the keys to the car in one hand and documents in the other.

"Alright, here are the keys and the paperwork that will let any police pulling you over know it's a recently purchased vehicle so you don't have to explain why there's no license plate." he hands them over to you and you in turn hand them over to Jesus. "Just tell them you're taking it to your parents' garage in whatever nearby neighborhood. Please bring it back safely."

You shrug at the man.

"No promises."

The attendee sulks as you turn back at the car. Jesus unlocks the driver seat door, enters, pushes down the all-door unlock button, closes his door, and puts the key in the ignition. He lowers down his door window and waves for you two to come in. You pick to sit in the backseat while Ren goes for the metaphorical shotgun. It's not good for you to be seen in public right now. Jesus turns the key and the car springs to life.

He turns his head to look at you. "Brooklyn Greenwood, South Brooklyn Marine Terminal, am I correct, patron?"

You nod at him. Jesus turns back, pulls out of the parking display, drives out of the dealership lot, and makes an insanely sharp turn left. For a brief moment, you can feel part of the car lift up in the air before dropping back down to earth. Both you and Ren turn to stare at the absolute madman but he pays you both no mind, his eyes completely focused on the road in front of him.

>[ ] "...Can you put on the radio?"
>[ ] "Have you only ever driven when going out on drive-bys, Jesus Christ!"
>[ ] Stay silent
>[ ] Write In.

>>2502885
>[ ] "We are trying to be subtle here Jesus."

>>2502885
>>[ ] "We are trying to be subtle here Jesus."
>>2502926
>>[X] "We are trying to be subtle here Jesus."
I like it.

>[X] "We are trying to be subtle here, Jesus."

You know he's not going to fully understand what you're saying but what the hell.

"We are trying to be subtle here, Jesus."

The car slows down to a snail's pace.

"Lo siento, patron."

Once again, you and Ren stare at him.

>[ ] "...This is fine."
>[ ] "...Turn on the radio."
>[ ] "Just drive, dammit!"
>[ ] "You really can't turn normally without driving like a grandma, can you?"
>[ ] Stay silent.
>[ ] Write In.

>>2503080
>[ ] "Just drive, dammit!"

>>2503080
>>[X] "Just drive, dammit!"
Heh

>[X] "Just drive, dammit!"

Oh, fuck it. The police are probably going to stop you a few times, but it's worth not taking four goddamn hours to get to the harbor on the empty early morning streets.

"Just drive, dammit!"

With that, the car kicks into full gear and speeds through the streets of the Bronx. You dig your fingers into the brown leather seat to hold on as he makes record breaking turn after turn. Ren gives off an aggravated grunt every time Jesus makes a turn. He doesn't bother turning back or apologizing. If he did take his attention off the road, you're pretty sure the car would flip over.

For the umpteenth time you stare at the back of his car seat as Ren does the same from his side.

>[ ] "I meant like you did before!"
>[ ] "Who the hell taught you how to fucking street-race?"
>[ ] "You know what? Keep up the good work!"
>[ ] "..."
>[ ] Write In.

>>2503203
>[ ] Do you only have two speeds?!

>>2503218
Kek, this

>[X] "Do you only have two speeds?!"

Just what the fuck is wrong with him?

"Do you only have two speeds?!"

The car makes a sudden stop. You dig your fingers deeper into the car seat to stop the force from pulling you forward and slamming you back. Ren isn't as strong or as lucky as you. A grunt of discomfort comes from her as she slams back into her seat.

Jesus turns back and answers, "Yo tengo tres, patron; lento, medio, y rápido. I just can't turn normally unless I'm going slow."

You twitch slightly.

>[ ] "¡Medio pues, pendejo!"(Medium then, dumbass!)
>[ ] "Just go slow then!"
>[ ] "Fine, go fast. I've never been in a high-speed pursuit before."
>[ ] "...Are you serious right now?"
>[ ] Write In.

>>2503379
>[ ] "¡Medio pues, pendejo!"(Medium then, dumbass!)

>>2503379
>>[ ] "Fine, go fast. I've never been in a high-speed pursuit before."

>>2503379
>[ ] "Fine, go fast. I've never been in a high-speed pursuit before."

>[] Write In
Turn on the radio and find some good driving music.

>[X] "Fine, go fast. I've never been in a high-speed pursuit before."
>[X] Turn on the radio and find some good driving music.

May as well go all the way. The police probably might recognize your description if they stop Jesus leading to an altercation anyway. Better to lose them than to have to kill them.

You lean in, power the radio, and flip through the channels as your lieutenants watch with curiosity. It takes a while for you find a fitting song for a police chase. A grin spreads onto your face when you hear it

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A572eclLc68

Leaning back on your seat, you give him the order.

"Fine, go fast. I've never been in a high-speed pursuit before."

Jesus gives you an obedient nod and he speeds off.

You breeze from Mott Haven, past Port Morris, and into Randall's Island in a few minutes. That's when a police car patrolling the streets turns on its lights and starts chasing you. Randall's Island is home to an enforcement patrol academy. It was only natural they'd start following you here.

The top speed of a police car is higher than the car you're riding in now. They're near the back of your car when you reach the island exit. You can hear someone with a megaphone speak outside the car window.

"Sir, you are violating the law. Pull over a-"

Suddenly, your car slows down and they crash to a stop against the trunk of your vehicle. They don't have time to recover before you speed off again.

You blink in surprise at the maneuver.

"Damn, Jesus!" you yell through the booming music.

He doesn't reply and drives the car out of Randall's Island, past Robert F. Kennedy Bridge, and into Brooklyn. The highway you're on is thankfully empty but it wouldn't be much of a surprise if the cops start blocking off the exits. You can probably take it all the way to Red Hook before driving through the surface streets to Greenwood. Anything close will be blocked but you doubt they'd post anyone all the way over there. There's also just ditching the car and jumping to Greenwood with your lieutenants in hand.

>[ ] Go down to the surface streets before they can block the exits. If you stick to the highway they'll catch up to you, this way you can give them the slip.
>[ ] Keep taking the highway until you reach Red Hook. Trust in Jesus' mad skills.
>[ ] Get out of the car and jump to Greenwood. Better to be safe than to be sorry.
>[ ] Write In.

>>2503611
>Jesus has the wheel

>>2503701
you're ordering him

disregard this post if you meant the trust in Jesus' mad skillz option

>>2503718
I put my faith in the power of Jesus

>>2503740
Hallelujah

...I can't believe I didn't fucking get that.

File: jesus-take-the-wheel.jpg (107 KB, 640x491)

107 KB JPG

>>2503755
>This is us after this

>>2503791
he's the only one of our lieutenants that can drive

we be having fun, chum

>>2503817
I'm surprised Jesus doesn't have motorcycle

>>2503821
Lack of personal funds. I'll delve into our finances when we get to dealing with the Bratva.

>[ ] Keep taking the highway until you reach Red Hook. Trust in Jesus' mad skills.

>>2503840
Christ on a bike, how old are we all that we don't have at least a few people that can drive

>>2503857
that too will be revealed in due time

excuse me as i write

>>2503872
Jesus, Mary, and Joseph how long does it take you to write

>>2503877
A lot, I multitask the fuck out of things and don't get many voters.

>>2503878
I'm sorry, we should break bread over this. I'm a bit of a dick but that's my cross to bear

>>2503893
stop, the puns are killing me

>>2503895
I'm just trying to leave no stone unrolled

>[X] Keep taking the highway until you reach Red Hook. Trust in Jesus' mad skills.

Your non-existent lord is your shepherd and Jesus is his cold-blooded son ferrying you across the river of Styx to collect shiny new pitchforks for the Underworld.

"Keep going, Jesus! Take the Brooklyn-Queens Expressway all the way to Red Hook and exit on Hamilton Avenue! We'll get to the Bratva's turf from there!"

He doesn't respond but you have full confidence that he heard you.

The distance from Mott Haven to Greenwood is about 16 miles. A car can go up to or over a hundred miles per hour. Considering there are pretty much no drivers on this freeway, you'll be in Red Hook in just a few minutes. All you need to do is avoid getting caught by the po-po.

You breeze through the highway and exit into Red Hook without a hitch. The faint sound of ringing sirens are in the air but beyond that the streets of Brooklyn are relatively quiet.

It looks like you dodged a throwing knife.

>[ ] "Slow down to medio, Jesus!"
>[ ] "¡Lento, Jesus, lento!"
>[ ] "Good Job! Keep going!"
>[ ] Say nothing.
>[ ] Write In.

>>2503929
>>[ ] "Good Job! Keep going!"

>>2503929
>>[X] "Slow down to medio, Jesus!"
Barreling up to the Bratva will definitely send the wrong impression.

>>2504580
This

>[X] "Slow down to medio, Jesus!"

You don't want to get to the Bratva's place in a speeding car. If they have posted guardsmen out front or god forbid an AMR sporting sharpshooter keeping watch on a nearby rooftop, they might get spooked and open fire. You've been hit by some of their heavy artillery before. The gaping hole in your abdomen wasn't a pretty sight to look at or a pleasant feeling. Good thing it blew away your carapace. Bleeding out like your mother would have been a horrible way to go out.

"Slow down to medio, Jesus!"

The car comes to an abrupt halt before continuing again at what anyone would consider a normal speed. Both you and Ren breath out sighs of relief. It seems as though the rough part of the roller-coaster ride is over.

>[ ] "Did your dad also teach you how to street-race or is that just how you normally drive when in a rush?"
>[ ] "You alright, Ren?"
>[ ] "You're never driving again, Jesus."
>[ ] Flip through the radio channels, the song ended a while ago and some shitty ayy, ayy bitch ass ghetto trash rap is on.
>[ ] Do nothing and stay silent for the rest of the ride.
>[ ] Write In.

>>2504760
>[ ] "You alright, Ren?"

>>2504760
>[ ] "Did your dad also teach you how to street-race or is that just how you normally drive when in a rush?"

>>2504760
>>[X] Flip through the radio channels, the song ended a while ago and some shitty ayy, ayy bitch ass ghetto trash rap is on.

>>2504760
>>[ ] "Did your dad also teach you how to street-race or is that just how you normally drive when in a rush?"
>>[ ] "You alright, Ren?"

>[X] "Did your dad also teach you how to street-race or is that just how you normally drive when in a rush?"
>[X] "You alright, Ren?"

Jesus' mad skills are something else. From the way he shook those boys back in Randall's island, you can tell he's done this kind of thing before. The man kept the car going at over a hundred or more miles an hours without losing control once the entire time. Losing the cops is one thing but that's a whole other area of expertise.

"Did your dad also teach you how to street-race or is that just how you normally drive when in a rush?"

He takes a minute to check nearby street signs to see if he's going the right way before answering you.

"My father didn't teach me how to street-race, patron, but what he taught me about evading the police after a loud hit helped me get started after I was marooned in Los Angeles."

You never heard how he landed in America. Though you still don't know why or precisely how exactly that happened. How he ended up taking a hit on you all the way on the opposite side of the country is a wonder as well as a mystery to you. Jesus has never talked about himself much. You've never really felt the need to ask much about him either. He always seemed like the kind of professional that would answer if you'd ask him about something personal but not want to talk about it. Kind of like Ren, but reverse for that whole not wanting to talk about it bit.

Speaking of Ren, she seems to be shuddering in her seat.

"You alright, Ren?"

She turns her head back to you and looks down in shame.

"I-I think I just need to rest for a moment, Reyes-sama." Ren says before going turning back to face the road.

You wonder if it's car sickness, the g-force, or a mix of both.

It could also be the horrible song playing on the radio.

>[ ] "How exactly did you get marooned in Los Angeles, Jesus?"
>[ ] "What brought you all the way from the west coast to the east coast, Jesus?"
>[ ] "You aren't going to puke are you, Ren?"
>[ ] "Stop for a while, Jesus. Let's let Ren rest for a few minutes. We can have a little talk about your past while she's laying down."
>[ ] Change the station, this ayy ayy shit is ass and is going to ruin the tone of any conversation you try to start and your mood for the sit-down with the Bratva.
>[ ] Power off the radio and stay silent for the rest of the ride.
>[ ] Write In.

>>2505217
>Change the station

>>2505217
>[ ] Change the station, this ayy ayy shit is ass and is going to ruin the tone of any conversation you try to start and your mood for the sit-down with the Bratva.

>>2505217
>>[ ] "Stop for a while, Jesus. Let's let Ren rest for a few minutes. We can have a little talk about your past while she's laying down."

>[X] Change the station, this ayy ayy shit is ass and is going to ruin the tone of any conversation you try to start and your mood for the sit-down with the Bratva.
>[X] "Stop for a while, Jesus. Let's let Ren rest for a few minutes. We can have a little talk about your past while she's laying down."

Fuck, this half-assed ghetto negro shit.

You lean in and quickly flip through channel to channel before stopping on something half-way decent.

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

It's a bit eh in your opinion. You've never heard it before. Sex, cars, and car loving women scream street-racer to you though. Not quite Jesus but it kind of fits.

You lean back just in time to avoid being throttled against a car seat thanks to another one of Jesus' insane turns. Ren gives off a groan after the car falls back to earth for the umpteenth time. She isn't exactly superhuman like you or used to it like Jesus is. You're not sure if she's well enough to handle herself in a fight right now and you need all you can get if things go south.

"Stop for a while, Jesus. Let's let Ren rest for a few minutes. We can have a little talk about your past while she's laying down."

The car swerves to the curb and smoothly parallel parks between two other cars. He doesn't switch off the ignition. Good on him for recognizing your need for tunes. You've had quite enough of his lack of social cues. It kind of reminds you of when you were the same dysfunctional mess. Not that anyone would consider you any better now than you were then.

Ren lets her chair seat fall back after it's clear Jesus has really stopped. She sighs in relief as she takes in the stillness. Her bright brown eyes turn to gaze at you.

"Thank you, Reyes-sama."

You shrug before replying. "It's nothing. I need you in your best shape for this meet."

It's not that you don't appreciate the thanks. You just like it a bit too much. Add in the sighs, sweat, and tone of her voice and it forms the foundation a hard problem for you.

She gives you an understanding hum before closing her eyes.

Jesus waits patiently in the driver's seat for your orders.

>[ ] "So, how exactly did you get marooned in Los Angeles, Jesus?"
>[ ] "What took you from Los Angeles all the way to New York City, Jesus?"
>[ ] "Do you even like music, Jesus?"
>[ ] "Are you autistic by any chance, Jesus?"
>[ ] Stay silent and try to enjoy the song.
>[ ] Write In.

>>2506139
>>[ ] "Do you even like music, Jesus?"

>>2506139
>[ ] "So, how exactly did you get marooned in Los Angeles, Jesus?"

>>2506139
>>[X] "So, how exactly did you get marooned in Los Angeles, Jesus?"

>[X] "So, how exactly did you get marooned in Los Angeles, Jesus?"

Best to start at the beginning. You can ask him how he ended up in New York afterward. Asking him if he's an autist seems a bit too condescending right now and who the hell doesn't like music?

"So, how exactly did you get marooned in Los Angeles, Jesus?"

It takes him a few minutes to answer you. His tone is uncharacteristically grim compared to his usual monotone.

"My father had been sent to resolve a dispute of some sorts between two of our key distributors in the city. He took me along with him so I could see the great nation we got all of our money out of and to see how we dealt with insubordination. There was no dispute. A leader of our cartel had reported false info to lure the cartel head out of our protected turf in Colombia. Both of the distributors had joined under him and devised a plan to assassinate our head so he could assume control. They expected the head himself to address the situation to preserve face overseas but he wisely chose caution and sent one of his best sicarios." he sighs "We fell into the ambush intended for him. I managed to escape with a few wounds but my father was gunned down in the shoot-out. A war broke out a few days afterward. My father was meant to call in every eight hours to ensure matters were going smoothly. If not, foot-soldiers of the cartel would be sent out in force to put everyone back in line. No one knew I went with him so I was left forgotten, wounded, homeless, and broke on the streets of Los Angeles."

That answers that you guess. You knew his father was dead beforehand but not the circumstances behind it. Doesn't explain the street-racing though or how he ended up in New York.

>[ ] "How did you end up street-racing?"
>[ ] "What brought you to New York?"
>[ ] "Which cartel where you working for?"
>[ ] "That's enough, talk. Let's go meet the Bratva."
>[ ] Write In.

>>2508006
>>[ ] "That's enough, talk. Let's go meet the Bratva."

>>2508006
>That's enough, talk. Let's go meet the Bratva.

>[X] "That's enough, talk. Let's go meet the Bratva."

Well, you got what you wanted. You can always ask him about the other stuff later. There are bigger things to attend to right now.

"That's enough talk. Let's go meet the Bratva."

Jesus hums and begins to maneuver the car to drive out of the narrow space. Ren springs up as she feels the car shift. She lifts her seat back into its normal position before Jesus can finish drive off again.

The rest of the ride is uneventful with the exception of a few of Jesus' sharp turns.

You feel the rumbling of the engine stop as Jesus slides into a parking spot and turns the ignition off. The music stops along with it. A small glance outside the windows reveals dozens of surrounding cars as well as thrice their amount in empty parking spaces.

Unbuckling your seatbelt, you open the nearest side door and step out. A wave of paranoia washes over you as you take in your surroundings. There are quite a few surrounding buildings that a sniper could easily be watching you from. If they only have one guy, you're sure you can take them all out but, if there's a few of them, there's a good chance you might not make it out alive.

Best to play this safe.

You walk out of the parking lot and approach the main building with your lieutenants at your sides. There are two Russian "security" guards standing in front of the entrance wearing black jackets. You don't need to sniff to tell they're packing more than just pepper spray. One holds out a hand as you approach.

"Stop right there, бec." the man says in a native Russian accent "You are not welcome here after all you've done."

What a lovely start.

>[ ] "Пpивeт to you too, тoвapищ. I'm here to make a deal with your boss."(Sarcastic)
>[ ] "You do know how this will end for you if you don't let me in, don't you?"(Hostile)
>[ ] "Relax, I'm here to make amends and buy some of your mil-spec merchandise. I'm willing to pay recompense if necessary."(Friendly)
>[ ] "You have no idea how out of line you are right now, do you? Even if I leave, your boss is probably going to have your foot-soldier brains splattered and dumped into the river for making a call three good ranks above you. Try to kill me and I kill you or try to kill me, survive my assault, and get executed by whoever comes to clean up your mess for escalating tensions with local New York factions."(Reality Check)
>[ ] Walk past him, there's nothing they can do to stop you.
>[ ] Give him a soft poke in the chest, let him know just what he's dealing with.
>[ ] Poke him in the temple, maybe he needs a little time out.
>[ ] Punch him, fuck this shit.
>[ ] Turn to the other guard, maybe he'll be a bit more polite.
>[ ] Write In.

>>2508693
>>[X] Write In.
>Ignore the dead man like he didn't speak.

>[X] Turn to the other guard, maybe he'll be a bit more polite.
And say:
>>[X] "Relax, I'm here to make amends and buy some of your mil-spec merchandise. I'm willing to pay recompense if necessary."(Friendly)

We'll poke the other guard if he keeps stepping out of line.

>>2508693
>>[ ] "Relax, I'm here to make amends and buy some of your mil-spec merchandise. I'm willing to pay recompense if necessary."(Friendly)

>[X] Ignore the dead man like he didn't speak.
>[X] Turn to the other guard, maybe he'll be a bit more polite.
>[X] "Relax, I'm here to make amends and buy some of your mil-spec merchandise. I'm willing to pay recompense if necessary."(Friendly)

>(1/2)

You don't bother responding to the soon to be dead if not tortured man. Instead, you turn to the other guard. He's wisely keeping his mouth shut and analyzing the situation.

A grin spreads on your face.

"Relax, I'm here to make amends and buy some of your mil-spec merchandise. I'm willing to pay recompense if necessary."

The man blinks at you before holding the door open. His partner tries to protest but the man silences him with a glare. Whoever he is, the man is more experienced than his rookie side-kick.

You walk in with your lieutenants and the professional guard joins you after closing the door behind him.

"I will take you to the Brigadier." the man says in a calm voice.

He takes the lead and you follow. Along the way, you cross by many more "security" guards patrolling the lower floor. They eye you with suspicion as well as fear. You follow the man up the stairs and onto the second floor. Unlike the first floor, the second is populated by a few office workers operating in cubicles. It is a harbor after all. Anyone can't just up and take over a big place like this completely without attracting attention. The Bratva runs security as well as helps manage the harbor for their shit to get in to New York City and to keep others out. Didn't stop you from murdering everyone here last time, though. None of the workers turn to look at your group. They probably understand it's not wise to look around or ask questions while technically working for a major criminal group.

>(2/2)

The man leads you through one last door into a relatively spacious office and stands guard at the right side of the entrance as your entourage follows you in. Surprisingly, there are no other guardsmen inside. Only a single weathered looking man behind a mahogany desk dwells in the office. He turns right to look at a poster on the wall and then turns to you.

A small laugh escapes his lips. "They did a terrible job on your sketch."

You raise an eyebrow of your own and turn to look at the poster. It's a crudely drawn sketch of you grinning with jagged teeth and misplaced horns on your head with the words "STAY AWAY" written in bold red at the top. You twitch at how terrible of a mockery it is of you.

The man laughs one more time before speaking again. "Brown Boar, Black Horn, The Black Goat, Minotaur Prince, Young Scratch, the Baron of Hunts Point, and Prince of the Bronx." he vexes more with each passing nickname "Young man with many names, how may I help you today and why should I?"

>[ ] "I want mil-spec gear and you should help me because I'm probably going to be buying a lot more of your merchandise in the future."
>[ ] "I want mil-spec gear and you should help me because I'm willing to repay you for everything I've done."
>[ ] "I want mil-spec gear and you should help me because I'm willing to give you a piece of New York for your trouble."
>[ ] "I want mil-spec gear and you should help me because I'm a paying customer."
>[ ] "I want mil-spec gear and you should help me because I'm not planning on kicking you out when I have full control over the city like Kingpin is."
>[ ] Tear the poster off the wall and rip it apart.
>[ ] Write In.

>>2508980
>>[ ] "I want mil-spec gear and you should help me because I'm willing to give you a piece of New York for your trouble."
>[ ] "I want mil-spec gear and you should help me because I'm probably going to be buying a lot more of your merchandise in the future."

>>2508980
>>[X] "I want mil-spec gear and you should help me because I'm probably going to be buying a lot more of your merchandise in the future."

"I'm willing to repay you for everything I've done." is a terrible setup line and outright lie.
"I'm willing to give you a piece of New York for your trouble." is agreeable, especially if they continue to provide and let old enmity fade, but should be something we work up to.
"I'm a paying customer." and "I'm not planning on kicking you out when I have full control over the city like Kingpin is." are true, but hardly a smooth beginning to negotiations.

Casual poster ripping might be a neat exit move though.

>[X] "I want mil-spec gear and you should help me because I'm probably going to be buying a lot more of your merchandise in the future."

You really only said the whole recompense thing so the guard would let you in, offering them a piece of New York so soon seems like a bit too much, and letting them know something they already know while letting them know something they don't need to know is unwise.

"I want mil-spec gear and you should help me because I'm probably going to be buying a lot more of your merchandise in the future."

The man remains unfazed by your proposal. "Gearing up for a great war are you, young man? Did Kingpin put another hit on your head or did the Yakuza try to push you out of Whitestone? Don't tell me you're making a power grab."

>[ ] "It's complicated."
>[ ] "You going to sell me what I'm asking for or not?
>[ ] "I already did. New York will be mine either in the next few days or at the end of the week."
>[ ] "So what if I am?"
>[ ] "A certain someone knew where I was yesterday morning and made an attempt on my life. I'm just gearing up for the inevitable."
>[ ] "All I have are peashooters, rusty switchblades, and a few vests. An equipment upgrade has been long overdue. It took a few years but I've got the capital to outfit my crew and then some."
>[ ] Stay Silent.
>[ ] Write In.

>>2509361
>>[X] "So what if I am?"
"If I succeed, we both can continue to profit. If I fail, it hardly hurts you. And either way your quality merchandise gets a little free advertising!"

>>2509361
>>[ ] "It's complicated."

>[X] "So what if I am?"
>[X] "It's complicated."

Rolled 2 (1d2)

>>2512083
godammit

>[X] "It's complicated."

Considering the fact all of this started with someone making an attempt on your life, Kingpin could've actually put a hit on your head again. Fat bastards like him tend to hold grudges for being rejected. It could've also been someone else hoping to get a certain response from you. Maybe you went farther than they wanted you to go and decided to fuck off before you had the city locked down. You may as well tell him a half-truth.

"It's complicated."

He frowns at you. "I understand your need for secrecy in this business of ours but you do understand I cannot just sell you the equipment you desire in good conscience after our previous altercations."

You glare at the man.

He sighs at you before speaking again. "There has been much blood spilled on both sides. My organization is willing to let bygones be bygones but I am still very much hesitant to do business with a rash young man who's intentions are unknown to me. I'm still willing to sell you the equipment. You will however have to pay a markup for whatever you buy so long as I feel you are keeping something from me."

You groan at the impudent tone of his voice. If he were in any other organization in New York, he'd be bleeding from a torn out throat right now. He is right to be cautious of you though. Anyone with a sliver of intelligence should be cautious of someone like you.

>[ ] "How much to outfit, say, two-hundred people with the mark-up and without it?"
>[ ] "I've already made a power grab."
>[ ] "I've already made a power grab. Have you gotten any orders from Woo-Jin lately?"
>[ ] "I've already made a power grab. New York will be mine in the next few days or by the end of the week."
>[ ] "How about I give you a token of good faith? Name what you want and I'll either hand it to you or do it for you."
>[ ] "All I have are peashooters, rusty switchblades, and a few vests. An equipment upgrade has been long overdue. It took a few years but I've got the capital to outfit my crew and then some."(Persuade Roll, +3 modifier DC16)
>[ ] "A certain someone knew where I was yesterday morning and made an attempt on my life. I'm just gearing up for the inevitable."(Persuade Roll, +3 modifier DC16)
>[ ] Leave empty handed but tear down that fucking poster on your way out.
>[ ] Write In.

>>2512448
>>[ ] "I've already made a power grab. Have you gotten any orders from Woo-Jin lately?"

>>2512448
>[ ] "All I have are peashooters, rusty switchblades, and a few vests. An equipment upgrade has been long overdue. It took a few years but I've got the capital to outfit my crew and then some

>>2512448
>>[X] "How much to outfit, say, two-hundred people with the mark-up and without it?"

Rolled 1 (1d3)

>[X] "I've already made a power grab. Have you gotten any orders from Woo-Jin lately?"
>[X] "All I have are peashooters, rusty switchblades, and a few vests. An equipment upgrade has been long overdue. It took a few years but I've got the capital to outfit my crew and then some
>[X] "How much to outfit, say, two-hundred people with the mark-up and without it?"

>[X] "I've already made a power grab. Have you gotten any orders from Woo-Jin lately?"

No point in lying to him. Telling him the truth won't really come back at you in any way. Right now, the Bratva is on Kingpin's shit list for operating in what he thinks is his city without his permission. Silvermane has tolerated their presence only thanks to their quality merchandise but there have been some disputes in the past. There's a lot of bad blood between the overall Yakuza and the mainland Bratva. You're pretty sure Woo-Jin probably had to pay out the ass for whatever gear he asked of them for them to overlook the conflicts their organization's have had over the pacific. Maybe you can get a discount for telling him you're going to take them all out but leave them alone to their little terminal.

A grin spreads onto your face. "I've already made a power grab. Have you gotten any orders from Woo-Jin lately?"

The man blinks at you. He stares at your face a few minutes with his blue eyes. You can see him trying to make out anything out of place. An unsure hum rumbles out of his throat and he turns to your entourage. Both of your lieutenants gaze blankly back at him. The man blinks one more time before clapping his hands together in a short applause. "Impressive, young man, most impressive. I can only assume Kingpin and Silvio Manfredi are your next targets. Neither will tolerate you pushing into the inner boroughs. You don't need me to tell you that going after either loudly is unwise. From the lack of gun shot reports and corpses on the streets of Queens, I can tell you handled things discreetly. Do try to keep up the good work. Now, what can I get for you?"

Your grin widens.

>[ ] "How much to completely outfit, say, two-hundred men?"
>[ ] "How much for two-hundred orders of mil-spec body armor?"
>[ ] "How much for two-hundred orders of automatic assault rifles?"
>[ ] "How much for two-hundred orders of semi-automatic hand-guns?
>[ ] "You wouldn't happen to be packing any AMRs would you?"
>[ ] "You got anything small, concealable, but with a strong punch?"
>[ ] "Do you sell armor-piercing rounds by any chance?"
>[ ] Convince him to give you a discount.(Persuade Roll, +3 modifier DC18)
>[ ] Write In.

Sorry for the low update rate lately. Sprained leg is finally almost healed up so I've been going out with the senpai more.

>>2515469
goddamn fucking word replacer

>>2515458
>>[ ] Convince him to give you a discount.(Persuade Roll, +3 modifier DC18)
>[ ] "How much for two-hundred orders of automatic assault rifles?"
Good that you're getting better.

>>2515458
>[ ] Convince him to give you a discount.(Persuade Roll, +3 modifier DC18)
>[ ] "How much for two-hundred orders of automatic assault rifles?"
Slower posting speed worked for me because I had to work forever. Glad I didn't miss a lot.

>Persuasion Roll
>DC18
>+3 modifier

Best out of three.

Rolled 4 + 3 (1d20 + 3)

>>2517431

Rolled 13 (1d20)

>>2517431
fuck it

Rolled 18 + 3 (1d20 + 3)

>>2517431

Rolled 13 + 3 (1d20 + 3)

>>2517431
Just rolling with my homies

Did not expect to wake up to four rolls. Writing now.

>[X] Convince him to give you a discount.(Persuade Roll, +3 modifier DC18)
>[X] "How much for two-hundred orders of automatic assault rifles?"
>Persuasion Roll
>DC18
>+3 modifier
>Rolled 18 + 3 = 21
>Success!

>(1/3)

You're not a penny pincher but you could use the savings to buy more gear from them. A city as big as New York can't be run with the amount of foot-soldiers you have right now even with Itsuki's recruits. There's also the added difficulty of super-powered dipshits trashing shit on a weekly basis. Sure, the city has gotten so used to it that they rebuilt Manhattan after Magneto's little Jewish Mutant Nazi fit in a goddamn month but a single month's earnings from all of Manhattan is what you get from the Bronx in a year or two. Commando gangsters in military-grade armor are what you're going to need in bulk to put every single one of those retarded super-powered fucks in line for when you're not around. Who knows, maybe you might have to super up your own foot-soldiers in the future to put the other supers in line and out of your business. There are skilled powerful people like Spider-man, the Fantastic Four, the Avengers, and even the X-men to worry about if you ever expand to up-state New York.

"Tell me," you start, "how much time do you think you have left here until Kingpin gets tired of you and Silvio has all the equipment he ever wants from you to outfit his men or finds a more agreeable weapon's dealer? My attack on this place two years ago showed them how undefended your port is. The two Bratva hit-squads I tore apart also let them know the Bratva's best could be taken apart by a super with some moderate skill. I know it's not exactly wise to compare supers and not supers in terms of capability, I've met my fair share of normal people who could've handed me my ass over the years, but I was a fucking thirteen-year-old then. I'm pretty goddamn sure everyone who's not me is looking at you like you're a bleeding fish in a sea of sharks. Only a matter of time until they can't resist the blood anymore."

The man takes all of your words in and looks down blankly at his desk. For a second, you see his brows furrow in worry. A sniff of the air reveals sweat on his skin. He look back up and glares at you.

"What exactly do you want, young man?" he says in a cold voice.

A grin spreads across your face. You set the hook and the line perfectly just like with Itsuki. This man is yours now much like your two lieutenants at your sides. All you need to do now is give him the sinker.

>(2/3)

"A discount for becoming the Bratva's number one customer in New York City. Soon enough, I'm going to be your only customer. Kingpin doesn't buy from you and forbids his subservients from getting anything from you, Silvio outfits his men with concealable gear most of which he doesn't get from you to keep up his public image, and I saw all that fancy shit Woo-Jin outfitted most of his boys with before I caved in his chest cavity. You got most of your orders from him, didn't you?" you suppress the urge to laugh when the man nods, "Silvio's next on my list. After I'm through with him, Kingpin's next and you'll only have me for a customer in all of New York City. I'm going to be buying from you in bulk after I kill that fatass. Whatever business you lost with Woo-Jin and Silvermane I'll greatly make up for. I know your gear is the best I'm going to find in New York and I have no plans of kicking you out anytime soon so long as you keep it coming."

Behind his desk, the man rests his head on one of his hands and thumps a finger against the mahogany wood. You take in all the subtle shifts of the expression on his face as he goes through the usual motions. He's already going to agree to it, your just waiting for the sweet words.

The man sighs before he speaks. "30% off every purchase is the most I can offer you."

You feel a wave of euphoria overtake you. Suppressing the urge to laugh diabolically, you let out a pleased hum in response.

Once again, the man sighs. "So, what can I get for you, shrewd young-man?"

It takes a while for you to respond. Everyone in the room probably thinks you're contemplating what to buy. Really, you're waiting for yourself to come down figuratively and somewhat literally.

>(3/3)

"How much for two-hundred orders of automatic assault rifles?" you speak out.

"A single military-grade assault rifle is normally sold by us at $8,380" the man says before pulling out a calculator from his desk drawers. He types a equations in before telling you the price of your order. "$1,173,200 for two-hundred assault rifles at your discount. Would you like Ak-104s, Ak-103s, Steyr AUG A3s, or a mix of the three? I'd offer you M16s and M4 Carbines but I do not want you getting killed because your men's weapons jammed due to shitty American design."

You've been a gangbanger for five years now ever since you mutated. The Bronx has been under your complete control for over two and a half. $9.6 million in cash is stuffed in duffel bags you put in a secure place only you and Marcus know about.

>[ ] "What's the differences between the three of them?"
>[ ] "I'll take a mix of the three."
>[ ] "Just the Aks would be fine."
>[ ] "How much to completely outfit two-hundred men in mil-spec gear?"
>[ ] "How much for two-hundred orders of mil-spec body armor?"
>[ ] "How much for two-hundred orders of semi-automatic handguns?
>[ ] "You wouldn't happen to be packing any AMRs would you?"
>[ ] "You got anything small, concealable, but with a strong punch?"
>[ ] "Do you sell armor-piercing rounds by any chance?"
>[ ] "You got any high-powered revolvers? I feel like giving my number two a gift."
>[ ] Write In.

>>2518530
>AK-104s
>[ ] "How much for two-hundred orders of mil-spec body armor?"

>>2518530
>>[X] "How much for two-hundred orders of mil-spec body armor?"
I can't into /k/.

>>2519549
so much wikipedia and gun nut forum reading for nothing

Time to write.

>>2519601
AKs are always the go to because of how easy they are to maintain and how cheap they are to produce/get.

You can take 3 broken AKs and make a functioning one. There's a reason they're popular.

>[X] "How much for two-hundred orders of mil-spec body armor?"

If assault rifles are going to cost that much, you might need to put more thought into what you're going to buy. Better weapons are fine and dandy but body armor takes precedence in preserving the lives of your foot-soldiers. Itsuki's men were outfitted with concealable Kevlar vests. You might not need to buy so many from the Bratva but then again it's not like those kind of vests are reusable after they take a bullet. The extras would come in handy if those baby-faced newbies ever got in a firefight though you doubt they'd ever survive a real shoot-out against people with experience. You could always recruit more men if you order too much as well. They could be living shields of meat, ceramic, and Kevlar for your top men.

"How much for two-hundred orders of mil-spec body armor?" you say.

The man inputs a few more equations in his calculator. "Our base price for a tactical ballistic vest is $25,460 much higher than anything you could buy legally but far more effective than slim vests of Kevlar. The amount of work put into production as well as transportation from the motherland all the way to America is covered by the price. They are reusable, untraceable, and capable of absorbing assault rifle fire coming from a short distance away. Like any other bullet-proof vest, something fired directly point-blank will tear through it. Two-hundred orders with your discount would cost $3,564,400. I hope you understand that you cannot conceal them effectively in public. They are for all intents and purposes meant for combat use by operatives criminal or otherwise not casual wear for the paranoid American."

Hefty cost for hefty protection but it might be worth it.

>[ ] "How much to completely outfit two-hundred men in mil-spec gear? Armor, rifles, handguns, and knives included"
>[ ] "Can you explain the differences between the rifles?"
>[ ] "I'll take the rifles only, just Aks please."($9,600,000 - $1,173,200 = $8,426,800 left in stash)
>[ ] "I'll take the body armor only."($9,600,000 - $3,564,400 = $6,035,600 left in stash)
>[ ] "I'll take the body armor and rifles in AKs."($9,600,000 - $4,737,600 = $4,862,400 left in stash)
>[ ] "How much for two-hundred orders of semi-automatic handguns?
>[ ] "How much for two-hundred orders of combat knives?"
>[ ] "You wouldn't happen to be packing any AMRs(Anti-material rifles) would you?"
>[ ] "You got anything small, concealable, but with a strong punch? I'm thinking of getting rid of my old .32 pistol."
>[ ] "Do you sell armor-piercing rounds by any chance? Kingpin has armored commandos and Silvio has Kevlar sporting foot-soldiers."
>[ ] "You got any high-powered revolvers? I feel like giving my number two a gift."
>[ ] Write In.

I still want the AK-104
>[ ] "I'll take the body armor and rifles in AKs."($9,600,000 - $4,737,600 = $4,862,400 left in stash)

>>2519961
By default it'll be half 103s and half 104s. If you guys want just 104s or 103s post so if you're voting to buy AKs.

I feel as though I made this needlessly complicated in my effort to make this quest seem more authentic.

>>2519928
>[ ] "I'll take the body armor and rifles in AKs."($9,600,000 - $4,737,600 = $4,862,400 left in stash)
>[ ] "Do you sell armor-piercing rounds by any chance? Kingpin has armored commandos and Silvio has Kevlar sporting foot-soldiers."

>[X] "I'll take the body armor and rifles in AKs."($9,600,000 - $4,737,600 = $4,862,400 left in stash)
>[X] "Do you sell armor-piercing rounds by any chance? Kingpin has armored commandos and Silvio has Kevlar sporting foot-soldiers."

>(1/2)

Body armor and rifles take priority over small weapons. Handguns are nice to have but have shitty accuracy in comparison to rifles. Any gun is a deadly, accurate weapon in the hands of an experienced killer. Problem is that you're going to have a lot of unexperienced baby-faced boys coming to you by way of Itsuki. Normal people get nervous and scared during fire fights. Their hands shake as a result. They're more likely to get a shot in with a rifle than a handgun when in life-and-death situations thanks to the amount of points of contact besides the hands a rifle has. A rifle's long-range also gives it an advantage over handguns. Silvio's men are outfitted to blend in with the public so they only sport concealables. If you decided to wage an all-out gang war with your boys outfitted with the Bratva's rifles they'd tear through Silvio's brown-nosers like they were mincemeat. As for knives, they're only really good for fighting at an extremely close range. Your boys would have no need of them sporting rifles that could take care of anything before they could get so close. They would be good for stealth-ops though.

After a period of thought you say "I'll take the body armor and rifles in AKs."

The man gives you a pleased smile. "Good choice. Do you want half of them AK-103s and AK-104s or purely one of the two?"

You shrug at the man. The two of them are from the same series you can make out that much but you don't know their precise differences. One could be a portable carbine easier for shooting in cramped urban environments or simply the same but chambered for a different cartridge.

"Half 103s and half 104 carbines it is then." the man decides for you. "Can I get you anything else?"

Carbines aren't bad in your experience. They usually have more recoil than their longer rifle cousins but are easier to transport. Your experienced foot-soldiers should have an easy time getting used to the added recoil. Itsuki's new blood can have the rifles.

>(2/2)

"Do you sell armor-piercing rounds by any chance?" you respond free of your crew outfitting thoughts, "Kingpin has armored commandos and Silvio has Kevlar sporting foot-soldiers."

"Yes, we do. Would you like to add 7.62x39mm black tip bullets to your list? If so, we'll load up the magazines for your new guns with them. You'll have to pay for extra magazines and the bullets themselves of course. It's $20 for a magazine and $2 for every AP bullet. The magazine capacity for both models is thirty just like the AK-47 and AK-74." the man answers.

At least they're giving you a free mag for every one of the guns your buying.

>[ ] "I'll get just enough AP rounds to fill up the two-hundred mags."($4,862,400 - $12,000 = $4,850,400 left in stash)
>[ ] "Two extra mags for every gun and enough AP ammo to fill them up."($4,862,400 - $32,000 = $4,830,400 left in stash)
>[ ] "Four extra mags for every gun and enough AP ammo to fill them up."($4,862,400 - $64,000 = $4,798,400 left in stash)
>[ ] "Six extra mags for every gun and enough AP ammo to fill them up." ($4,862,400 - $96,000 = $4,766,400 left in stash)
>[ ] "How much for two-hundred orders of semi-automatic handguns?
>[ ] "How much for two-hundred orders of combat knives?"
>[ ] "You wouldn't happen to be packing any AMRs(Anti-material rifles) would you? I need something that can blow through bullet-proof glass and pop one in a fat bitch's face."
>[ ] "You got anything small, concealable, but with a strong punch? I'm thinking of getting rid of my old .32 pistol."
>[ ] "You got any high-powered revolvers? I feel like giving my number two a gift."
>[ ] "How much for a single combat knife? I feel like giving a crazy bitch a gift for not stabbing me in a while."
>[ ] "No thanks, I'll come by some time later with my boys to pick up the hardware and to drop off your payment."
>[ ] Write In.

>>252068
I think we should revist how to do this sort of section better for the future. Maybe the first round being the actual conversation with pricing and then the players talk out stuff and vote then you write a series of posts with the purchases and haggling, etc.
>"You wouldn't happen to be packing any AMRs(Anti-material rifles) would you? I need something that can blow through bullet-proof glass and pop one in a fat bitch's face."
>"You got anything small, concealable, but with a strong punch? I'm thinking of getting rid of my old .32 pistol."
> "You got any high-powered revolvers? I feel like giving my number two a gift."
>"How much for a single combat knife? I feel like giving a crazy bitch a gift for not stabbing me in a while."

>>2520778
>>2520608

>>2520608
As every rifle is a 7.62 I don't think we really need any armour piercing rounds.
>[ ] "No thanks, I'll come by some time later with my boys to pick up the hardware and to drop off your payment."

>>2520778
I think I'll do that after this.

Rolled 1 (1d2)

>[X] Ask him if he has AMRs, a concealable handgun, a high-powered revolver, or a combat knife.
>[X] "No thanks, I'll come by some time later with my boys to pick up the hardware and to drop off your payment."

Sorry about not updating the other day. Figured I wouldn't roll a die until someone broke the tie to give myself some time off to do unfinished work. Enough with the excuses, though, it's time to write.

>[X] "You wouldn't happen to be packing any AMRs(Anti-material rifles) would you? I need something that can blow through bullet-proof glass and pop one in a fat bitch's face."
>[X] "You got anything small, concealable, but with a strong punch? I'm thinking of getting rid of my old .32 pistol."
>[X] "You got any high-powered revolvers? I feel like giving my number two a gift."
>[X] "How much for a single combat knife? I feel like giving a crazy bitch a gift for not stabbing me in a while."

>(1/3)

You'll hold off on agreeing to buy AP ammo for now. There's a few specific things you want to know if he has and you're not quite sure you're going to even need armor piercing rounds. At most, a regular vest can take a few normal handgun-sized bullets. Something as big as a 7.62x39mm bullet will tear through Kevlar like it was nothing. Ceramic is another story but only Kingpin would have anyone decked out in heavy vests like that.

First things first, an AMR that can break through bullet-proof glass on the first shot. Ren made a good point back at the warehouse. You don't have much of a chance in an all-out war against Kingpin. Even if you do get everyone outfitted with the Bratva's gear, all the fat bastard needs to do is call-in Sandman or Rhino. One you're sure you can beat into a bloody pulp the other not so much. Kingpin will just hire more super-powered dipshits to go after you if you manage to survive the first wave. You're best and quite possibly only chance against him is assassination.

"You wouldn't happen to be packing any AMRs would you? I need something that can blow through bullet-proof glass and pop one in a fat bitch's face." you say.

The man doesn't look that surprised at your question. It seems like he's been waiting for you to ask. "We have a few OSV-96s in stock. Semi-automatic, feed system of five round magazines, chambered for 12.7x108mm cartridges, fitted with a scope, and it has an effective firing range of two-thousand, two-hundred yards." the man fiddles with his calculator again. "Our normal price is $16,980 for one but they cost $11,886 with your discount."

Cheaper than the body armor and far more useful to you. There's still a few more things you want to ask before you decide to check-out. You've been thinking of outfitting your men this whole time but have been neglecting yourself. Despite being bullet-proof, you aren't knife-proof. Time and time again you've gotten into life threatening situations you could've avoided by just bringing a gun. Sure, your .32 isn't worth much in terms of fire-power compared to your real "guns" but it sure could've come in handy when you went against Itsuki or the Yamazaki twins. All you need is an upgrade.

>(2/3)

"You got anything small, concealable, but with a strong punch? I'm thinking of getting rid of my old .32 pistol." you say.

The man reaches into one of his desk drawers. He slowly and carefully pulls out a handgun you vaguely recognize. Making sure not to accidentally provoke you or your lieutenants, he ejects the magazine and pops the bullet in the chamber with the gun faced to a side of the room. He lays the empty handgun on the table for you to examine.

"Pistolet Makarova: semi-automatic, chambered for .380 ACP, smaller but less powerful than our best handguns, and a magazine capacity of eight rounds. It's cheaper than our best as well." the man once again runs a few calculations. "They're usually sold by us at $1,940 but they're $1,358 for you."

Bigger than your Tomcat but chambered for a larger caliber. It's capacity is just one bullet bigger though. You wonder if Marcus would scold you for wasting good money to replace a perfectly serviceable handgun for something that can be considered barely better than it. Speaking of Marcus, he's still using that ancient piece of shit Single Action Army of his. You don't understand why he still keeps it around.

"You got any high-powered revolvers? I feel like giving my number two a gift." you say.

The man grimaces a bit before answering you. "We have a few cowboy guns in stock but they're all only one relatively new model. The Smith & Wesson 500 a monster of a handgun chambered for .500 S&W Magnum, double/single action action, and a feed system of a five round cylinder." He runs another set of equations as you and Ren stare at him unbelievably. "Our normal price for them is $5,760 so for you it's $4,032."

You blink at the man. Something like that sounds like it would actually hurt you. Probably a bit too much for Marcus to handle or maybe just the perfect weapon to replace that prehistoric relic he lugs around.

May as well ask how much a combat knife is for Alex. You are gift shopping after-all. She's been a good girl lately and she could use something better than a rusty switchblade despite how fine she is with it.

"How much for a single combat knife? I feel like giving a crazy bitch a gift for not stabbing me in a while?"

For this one, the man doesn't need to use his calculator. He does raise an eyebrow at you though. "$120 is our normal charge for a serrated Ka-Bar USMC but with your discount it's $80."

You're surprised at how cheap they are compared to everything else. Then again they don't need to be customized for military use, have their serial numbers filed down or be specifically made without one, and smuggled into the country. It wouldn't be much of a surprise to you if you could find the exact same knife sold legally but not locally.

>(3/3)

Looks like you've gone through almost their entire catalog of their best gear.

>[ ] "I'll get just enough AP rounds to fill up the two-hundred AK mags. I'll come by some time later with my boys to pick up the hardware and to drop off your payment."($4,862,400 - $12,000 = $4,850,400 left in stash)
>[ ] "Just two extra mags for every AK and enough AP ammo to fill them up. I'll come by some time later with my boys to pick up the hardware and to drop off your payment."($4,862,400 - $32,000 = $4,830,400 left in stash)
>[ ] "Just four extra mags for every AK and enough AP ammo to fill them up. I'll come by some time later with my boys to pick up the hardware and to drop off your payment."($4,862,400 - $64,000 = $4,798,400 left in stash)
>[ ] "Just six extra mags for every AK and enough AP ammo to fill them up. I'll come by some time later with my boys to pick up the hardware and to drop off your payment." ($4,862,400 - $96,000 = $4,766,400 left in stash)
>[ ] "How much for two-hundred orders of your best semi-automatic handguns?"
>[ ] "I'll just take two hundred combat knives I'll come by some time later with my boys to pick up the hardware and to drop off your payment."($4,862,400 - $16,000 = $4,846,400 left in stash)
>[ ] "I'll just take a OSV-96. I'll come by some time later with my boys to pick up the hardware and to drop off your payment."($4,862,400 - $11,886 = $4,850,514 left in stash)
>[ ] "I'll just take the Makarov. I'll come by some time later with my boys to pick up the hardware and to drop off your payment."($4,862,400 - $1,358 = $4,861,042 left in stash)
>[ ] "I'll just take the Smith & Wesson. I'll come by some time later with my boys to pick up the hardware and to drop off your payment."($4,862,400 - $4,032 = $4,858,368 left in stash)
>[ ] "I'll just take the single combat knife. I'll come by some time later with my boys to pick up the hardware and to drop off your payment."($4,862,400 - $80 = $4,862,320 left in stash)
>[ ] "I'll take it all and six extra mags for every AK as well as enough AP ammo to fill all the AK mags up. I'll come by some time later with my boys to pick up the hardware and to drop off your payment."($4,862,400 - $113,356 = $4,749,044 left in stash)
>[ ] "I'll take it all just with two-hundred knives in place of the one and six extra mags for every AK as well as enough AP ammo to fill all the AK mags up. I'll come by some time later with my boys to pick up the hardware and to drop off your payment."($4,862,400 - $129,276 = $4,733,124 left in stash)
>[ ] "No thanks, I'll come by some time later with my boys to pick up the hardware and to drop off your payment."
>[ ] Write In.

Hey, have you been putting these threads on the Suptg archive or what?

>>2523282
>First Thread:
https://archived.moe/qst/thread/2424210/#2424210

>Previous Thread(s):
http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=A%20New%20Mutant%20Quest

Fucked up on the first one admittedly. Didn't archive it in time.

>>2523294
Oh good. Was worried I wouldn't be able to catch up.

>>2523206
>[ ] "I'll just take a OSV-96. I'll come by some time later with my boys to pick up the hardware and to drop off your payment."($4,862,400 - $11,886 = $4,850,514 left in stash)>[ ] "I'll just take the Makarov. I'll come by some time later with my boys to pick up the hardware and to drop off your payment."($4,862,400 - $1,358 = $4,861,042 left in stash)>[ ] "I'll just take the Smith & Wesson. I'll come by some time later with my boys to pick up the hardware and to drop off your payment."($4,862,400 - $4,032 = $4,858,368 left in stash)>[ ] "I'll just take the single combat knife. I'll come by some time later with my boys to pick up the hardware and to drop off your payment."($4,862,400 - $80 = $4,862,320 left in stash)

>>2523494
Knew I forgot to add another option. Goddammit.I included two hundred knife orders with everything else but not just the four specific weapons.

>>2523206
>>[ ] "Just two extra mags for every AK and enough AP ammo to fill them up. I'll come by some time later with my boys to pick up the hardware and to drop off your payment."($4,862,400 - $32,000 = $4,830,400 left in stash)
>[ ] "I'll just take two hundred combat knives I'll come by some time later with my boys to pick up the hardware and to drop off your payment."($4,862,400 - $16,000 = $4,846,400 left in stash)

Rolled 2 (1d2)

>[X] "I'll take the three guns and a single combat knife. I'll come by some time later with my boys to pick up the hardware and to drop off your payment."($4,862,400 - $17,274 = $4,845,126 left in stash)
>[X] "I'll take two hundred combat knives, two extra mags for every AK, and enough AP ammo to fill all the mags up. I'll come by some time later with my boys to pick up the hardware and to drop off your payment."($4,862,400 - $48,000 = $4,814,400 left in stash)

>[X] "I'll take two hundred combat knives, two extra mags for every AK, and enough AP ammo to fill all the mags up. I'll come by some time later with my boys to pick up the hardware and to drop off your payment."($4,862,400 - $48,000 = $4,814,400 left in stash)

>(1/2)

The knives may come in handy. Whether as a back-up weapon if your boys run out of ammo, Alex's personal arsenal, or for a future special team of individuals with a very particular set of skills answerable only to you. A personal criminal black-ops squad is probably a long way off though. It may seem a bit overkill to get armor-piercing rounds of such a high caliber to deal with ballistic vests but you're not taking any chances. Kingpin is going to have his men outfitted with the best there is. You need all the help you can get if you choose to wage an all-out war against him.

"I'll take two hundred combat knives, two extra mags for every AK, and enough AP ammo to fill all the mags up. I'll come by some time later with my boys to pick up the hardware and to drop off your payment." you say.

The man smiles. "We will arrange for a truck or two to be loaded up with your ordered equipment. Upon payment, we will let you take them with you wherever you wish or have them delivered to a destination of your choice." He grins and holds out a hand to you. "Let this be the beginning of a profitable relationship between our two organizations."

You shrug, walk up to him, and shake his hand. There's no real good reason for you to leave him hanging. Not that'd it come back to haunt you in any way. It's just better for you to be on friendly terms with the man who feeds you ammunition.

As you begin to walk back to the doorway, the hideous poster defaming your magnificence catches your eye. You stare at it again for a few seconds before stomping to it. The ground and the entire building shake with every step you take. Both of the Russian men in the room stare in astonishment while your lieutenants wait patiently for you to get it out of your system. You tear the poster off the wall, spit in it, roll it up into a ball, and rip into dozens of miniature pieces.

A pleased sigh escapes your lips as you bathe in the poster's destruction. It cannot hurt you or anyone else anymore.

You walk out the office door with your lieutenants leaving the two Bratva men to process what they had just witnessed. The three of you make your way from the office, past the cubicles occupied by now frightened work staff, and to the stairway when the helpful guard catches up with you. He mutters a brief apology in Russian before once again taking the lead.

The bottom floor seems to be deserted of guards when you reach the end of the stairway. It's only when your escort sternly shouts something in Russian do you see them come out behind the walls with their formerly concealed weapons lowered. He takes you past the shaken men back to the entrance.

>(2/2)

You walk out of the building following the helpful guard. He gives you a nod as he goes back to his previous post. Graciously, you give him one back. The man deserves it for being so helpful unlike his shithead partner.

From the building entrance, you walk back to the parking lot with your lieutenants at your sides. It seems to have filled up since you arrived. Looks like more people are starting to wake up and go to work.

You search through a few sets of parked cars until you find the only unlicensed vehicle you came here in. There's a large dent in the bumper where Jesus stopped that pursuing police car.

Jesus himself takes notice and lets off a thoughtful hum before turning to you. "Patron, the police have probably sent out an APB about this car. The lack of a license plate will get us pulled over and possibly arrested if they recognize the description of either the car or you. We may need to kill a few police officers or simply leave the car here."

He's right. There's no way you can just take the car back to the dealership without having another run in with the cops. You can try shaking them again but it's going to be harder with the added morning work traffic as well as the higher quantity of working police.

A groan escapes your lips.

You just had to go on a high-speed pursuit didn't you?

>[ ] "We're taking it back. I hope you're good enough to speed through traffic, Jesus."
>[ ] "We're taking it back. Whoever stops us and tries to arrest us is in for a bad day."
>[ ] "Alright, we're leaving it here. Let's walk to a phone booth and call up a taxi to take us back to Hunts Point."
>[ ] "Grab on and hold on. You're about to see how New York looks like from on high."
>[ ] "Have you guys eaten this morning?"
>[ ] Write In.

>>2526087
>[ ] "Alright, we're leaving it here. Let's walk to a phone booth and call up a taxi to take us back to Hunts Point."