01-17-2018, 03:03 PM
Hijiri was the first through the double doors into the main factory workspace. He dived through them, in fact, warping gravity just after throwing them open and leaping far higher than his human body would have been expected to be capable of, flipping over in mid-air before landing gracefully atop an unoccupied desk, one foot on the wooden surface itself and the other using a cheap sewing machine as a pedestal.
This one was a traditional sweatshop; meaning that their business involved a whole bunch of poor people sitting at tables all day and sewing clothes for practically no pay... though currently many of the desks were vacant. This was one of the places that many of the Slum King's 'gangsters' had actually worked for their living (if such an existence could even really be called that), but ever since Hijiri had arrived and begun supplying them with food, none of them had actually bothered turning up for their shifts.
The several guards spread out across the large room had already all drawn their guns and aimed them his way, but just to draw their attention further, he grabbed the hilt of his sword and very slowly – making sure to scrape the blade against the sheath as loudly as possible – drew the katana from its scabbard.
The loud scraping of metal on metal had their attention locked on him... though thus far none had opened fire. Whilst they stared, his allies casually sidled into the room. Had the gangsters attempted to charge in, the guards likely would have opened fire, not realising how badly outnumbered they were... how hopeless their situation.
Instead, surprised by the arrival of one oddly-dressed acrobat who seemed fond of needlessly dramatic entrances and incapable of drawing a sword quickly or quietly, they were more confused than frightened. At least, up until he spoke.
“Surrender.” was the only word he bothered to say, jerking his head back to indicate the heavily armed mob who had just finished making their way into the hall.
After noticing the gangsters, the guards probably were more afraid than confused... though it was a close call to make. Especially when they recognised some of their foes as the same poverty-stricken unfortunates who had until recently been employed here. A few of them even called out the names of some of those they recognised... in anger, in fear, in mild bemusement... the responses were varied and many.
When Hijiri made no attempt at responding to their comments, Alejandro took it upon himself to do so in the Battle Rabbit's stead. That guy was becoming quite the spokesman, actually. It was pretty helpful; it would have been much harder to pull off this terse loner routine without someone around to explain everything in detail so he didn't have to.
“We're a real gang now, with proper guns and stuff, so just drop your weapons and we'll let you go. Fight us and you'll only get yourselves killed.”
“Oh really?” asked one of the security team, a man with an eyepatch, a short beard and the general appearance of some sort of generic, grizzled army veteran, “And who's this hooded guy supposed to be? Your cheerleader?”
Hijiri turned to face him, but didn't yet speak up. This man showed no sign of fear at all, despite being vastly outnumbered. He was either very skilled – which was unlikely given his job guarding this shithole – or just an idiot.
“That's Hoarse. He's a Prime.” Alejandro pronounced the word 'Prime' with something like awe... or reverence. It was almost funny how out-of-touch these slum-dwellers were. Whilst not even close to being as common as Secondaries, Primes were hardly unheard of, not even in such a dismal place to live as Tier Five.
Still, in combat they were easily stronger than all but the most powerful of Secondaries, so unless these guards really were utter fools, they should be worried by that comment.
The eyepatch guy snorted, “Primes are no big deal. You really think you can scare us off just 'cause you've got a Prime with you? You're nothing. It doesn't matter how many of you there are, or even if you get multiple Primes on your side... you'll never beat us. If anyone should be dropping any weapons around here, it should be you lot. Right guys?”
Oh yeah, he was an idiot alright.
“Y-yeah,” stammered a pimple-faced man who looked barely out of his teens. He was muscular, but clearly not the bravest, if the way his knees shook was any indication. He had likely only joined this security team because he was too cowardly to risk getting involved in any gang warfare, “I-I've totally k-killed loads of P-P-Primes. Y-you don't scare m-me.”
Hijiri looked at him. Then back at the man who appeared to be the leader.
“Shut up, Carl.”
“Aw...” the spotty guy hung his head.
“Alright, listen. Here's how this is going to go; you're all going to drop all your weapons, kick them over to us, and then get down on your knees and put your hands behind your heads.” the security boss guy growled at the mob, completely ignoring Hijiri; apparently feeling pretty safe with his six subordinates all aiming their pistols the Rabbit's way, “If you don't comply, we'll gun down this little Prime friend of yours, and you'll all be slaughtered without him around. If not by us then by another gang... a real gang. So what do you say?”
He asked it like it was actually a serious question... and judging by the fact that none of his associates were rushing to surrender, it was possible that they also were dumb enough to believe that this absurd demand had some chance of being met. Perhaps they had just gotten so used to thinking of the sweatshop's employees as nothing more than their victims that they didn't genuinely believe that they could ever really turn on them.
The rest of the workers, though – those who lived in other blocks of slums outside the Slum King's three tenements – clearly weren't so confident, and had all abandoned their work to cower under their desks instead. Good.
“Open fire.” he commanded hoarsely, then leapt into the air, his weight dropping off to practically nothing. He backflipped to land feet-first on the ceiling just as the first gunshots rang out, and almost immediately kicked off again, with as much force as he could muster.
If he held still for too long then one of the guards was likely to get off a shot... he had no idea how accurate they were, but he didn't fancy finding out the hard way that he'd underestimated anyone, so it would be best not to stay still.
He landed behind them, near the far wall, then bounced up into a corner, then across to a point near the top of one of the side walls, and by then the shooting had stopped. His last jump took him back to the doorway, to land light as a feather in front of his little mob, facing them. Almost immediately afterwards, he released the energy he'd built up over the course of the preceding few seconds, whilst he jumped around; returning himself to his normal weight.
He turned back around to observe the carnage. They'd done pretty well for themselves. Workstations and equipment had been riddled with bullets, and the security team's corpses lay sprawled around the room. The fools had actually tried to keep their promise about shooting him if anyone fired, even after it must have become obvious to them how quickly he could move. Not one of them had so much as turned to face the gangsters.
To compare this to shooting fish in a barrel would have been an insult to fish... still, none of his guys seemed to have accidentally gunned down any of the innocents cowering beneath their desks, so that was a plus.
“Get everyone out.” he rasped to Alejandro after he had done surveying the mess, knowing without having to look that the man had moved forwards to stand a little behind and to one side of him, as had become his habit. Whether he was just eager to please or was hungry for power, the Battle Rabbit wasn't yet sure, but having him around certainly made things easier.
The man didn't question his command, and it didn't take him long at all to get it done. Within moments the terrified employees were all outside and being given 'the spiel'... a statement Alejandro had come up with, which had then been improved upon via a few terse hints by Hijiri, that the gang's members could rattle off to any others of the downtrodden masses they came across whom they thought might be interested in signing up. The Rabbit had already promised that they'd soon have a much larger building to call their home, so they weren't too worried about the threat of overcrowding their already overcrowded buildings even more.
With the building emptied of living people, Hijiri faced it once again, “Keep watch. For an hour.”
“Sure thing, boss-man.” his #1 henchman replied, before ordering the others to spread out around the building's perimeter and settle down to wait.
The Battle Rabbit cracked his knuckles, staring at the ugly building, then held his arms out before him and began to focus. At first, nothing appeared to happen... and then, slowly, a shimmering curtain of rainbow light crept outwards from the building itself, growing and shifting until every part of it had been covered.
This place had far, far less expensive goods, equipment, furniture and fittings than had the NSW's casino, and so would be much less productive to rob (or 'confiscate from' as Kroll would put it). So he was improvising a little, and just taking the entire building. Not only would this provide him with much more Omnilium than just stealing a few random objects, but leaving not a single hint that this place had ever existed after they were done with it would likely make a pretty powerful statement about what would happen to anyone who got in their way.
This one was a traditional sweatshop; meaning that their business involved a whole bunch of poor people sitting at tables all day and sewing clothes for practically no pay... though currently many of the desks were vacant. This was one of the places that many of the Slum King's 'gangsters' had actually worked for their living (if such an existence could even really be called that), but ever since Hijiri had arrived and begun supplying them with food, none of them had actually bothered turning up for their shifts.
The several guards spread out across the large room had already all drawn their guns and aimed them his way, but just to draw their attention further, he grabbed the hilt of his sword and very slowly – making sure to scrape the blade against the sheath as loudly as possible – drew the katana from its scabbard.
The loud scraping of metal on metal had their attention locked on him... though thus far none had opened fire. Whilst they stared, his allies casually sidled into the room. Had the gangsters attempted to charge in, the guards likely would have opened fire, not realising how badly outnumbered they were... how hopeless their situation.
Instead, surprised by the arrival of one oddly-dressed acrobat who seemed fond of needlessly dramatic entrances and incapable of drawing a sword quickly or quietly, they were more confused than frightened. At least, up until he spoke.
“Surrender.” was the only word he bothered to say, jerking his head back to indicate the heavily armed mob who had just finished making their way into the hall.
After noticing the gangsters, the guards probably were more afraid than confused... though it was a close call to make. Especially when they recognised some of their foes as the same poverty-stricken unfortunates who had until recently been employed here. A few of them even called out the names of some of those they recognised... in anger, in fear, in mild bemusement... the responses were varied and many.
When Hijiri made no attempt at responding to their comments, Alejandro took it upon himself to do so in the Battle Rabbit's stead. That guy was becoming quite the spokesman, actually. It was pretty helpful; it would have been much harder to pull off this terse loner routine without someone around to explain everything in detail so he didn't have to.
“We're a real gang now, with proper guns and stuff, so just drop your weapons and we'll let you go. Fight us and you'll only get yourselves killed.”
“Oh really?” asked one of the security team, a man with an eyepatch, a short beard and the general appearance of some sort of generic, grizzled army veteran, “And who's this hooded guy supposed to be? Your cheerleader?”
Hijiri turned to face him, but didn't yet speak up. This man showed no sign of fear at all, despite being vastly outnumbered. He was either very skilled – which was unlikely given his job guarding this shithole – or just an idiot.
“That's Hoarse. He's a Prime.” Alejandro pronounced the word 'Prime' with something like awe... or reverence. It was almost funny how out-of-touch these slum-dwellers were. Whilst not even close to being as common as Secondaries, Primes were hardly unheard of, not even in such a dismal place to live as Tier Five.
Still, in combat they were easily stronger than all but the most powerful of Secondaries, so unless these guards really were utter fools, they should be worried by that comment.
The eyepatch guy snorted, “Primes are no big deal. You really think you can scare us off just 'cause you've got a Prime with you? You're nothing. It doesn't matter how many of you there are, or even if you get multiple Primes on your side... you'll never beat us. If anyone should be dropping any weapons around here, it should be you lot. Right guys?”
Oh yeah, he was an idiot alright.
“Y-yeah,” stammered a pimple-faced man who looked barely out of his teens. He was muscular, but clearly not the bravest, if the way his knees shook was any indication. He had likely only joined this security team because he was too cowardly to risk getting involved in any gang warfare, “I-I've totally k-killed loads of P-P-Primes. Y-you don't scare m-me.”
Hijiri looked at him. Then back at the man who appeared to be the leader.
“Shut up, Carl.”
“Aw...” the spotty guy hung his head.
“Alright, listen. Here's how this is going to go; you're all going to drop all your weapons, kick them over to us, and then get down on your knees and put your hands behind your heads.” the security boss guy growled at the mob, completely ignoring Hijiri; apparently feeling pretty safe with his six subordinates all aiming their pistols the Rabbit's way, “If you don't comply, we'll gun down this little Prime friend of yours, and you'll all be slaughtered without him around. If not by us then by another gang... a real gang. So what do you say?”
He asked it like it was actually a serious question... and judging by the fact that none of his associates were rushing to surrender, it was possible that they also were dumb enough to believe that this absurd demand had some chance of being met. Perhaps they had just gotten so used to thinking of the sweatshop's employees as nothing more than their victims that they didn't genuinely believe that they could ever really turn on them.
The rest of the workers, though – those who lived in other blocks of slums outside the Slum King's three tenements – clearly weren't so confident, and had all abandoned their work to cower under their desks instead. Good.
“Open fire.” he commanded hoarsely, then leapt into the air, his weight dropping off to practically nothing. He backflipped to land feet-first on the ceiling just as the first gunshots rang out, and almost immediately kicked off again, with as much force as he could muster.
If he held still for too long then one of the guards was likely to get off a shot... he had no idea how accurate they were, but he didn't fancy finding out the hard way that he'd underestimated anyone, so it would be best not to stay still.
He landed behind them, near the far wall, then bounced up into a corner, then across to a point near the top of one of the side walls, and by then the shooting had stopped. His last jump took him back to the doorway, to land light as a feather in front of his little mob, facing them. Almost immediately afterwards, he released the energy he'd built up over the course of the preceding few seconds, whilst he jumped around; returning himself to his normal weight.
He turned back around to observe the carnage. They'd done pretty well for themselves. Workstations and equipment had been riddled with bullets, and the security team's corpses lay sprawled around the room. The fools had actually tried to keep their promise about shooting him if anyone fired, even after it must have become obvious to them how quickly he could move. Not one of them had so much as turned to face the gangsters.
To compare this to shooting fish in a barrel would have been an insult to fish... still, none of his guys seemed to have accidentally gunned down any of the innocents cowering beneath their desks, so that was a plus.
“Get everyone out.” he rasped to Alejandro after he had done surveying the mess, knowing without having to look that the man had moved forwards to stand a little behind and to one side of him, as had become his habit. Whether he was just eager to please or was hungry for power, the Battle Rabbit wasn't yet sure, but having him around certainly made things easier.
The man didn't question his command, and it didn't take him long at all to get it done. Within moments the terrified employees were all outside and being given 'the spiel'... a statement Alejandro had come up with, which had then been improved upon via a few terse hints by Hijiri, that the gang's members could rattle off to any others of the downtrodden masses they came across whom they thought might be interested in signing up. The Rabbit had already promised that they'd soon have a much larger building to call their home, so they weren't too worried about the threat of overcrowding their already overcrowded buildings even more.
With the building emptied of living people, Hijiri faced it once again, “Keep watch. For an hour.”
“Sure thing, boss-man.” his #1 henchman replied, before ordering the others to spread out around the building's perimeter and settle down to wait.
The Battle Rabbit cracked his knuckles, staring at the ugly building, then held his arms out before him and began to focus. At first, nothing appeared to happen... and then, slowly, a shimmering curtain of rainbow light crept outwards from the building itself, growing and shifting until every part of it had been covered.
This place had far, far less expensive goods, equipment, furniture and fittings than had the NSW's casino, and so would be much less productive to rob (or 'confiscate from' as Kroll would put it). So he was improvising a little, and just taking the entire building. Not only would this provide him with much more Omnilium than just stealing a few random objects, but leaving not a single hint that this place had ever existed after they were done with it would likely make a pretty powerful statement about what would happen to anyone who got in their way.
![[Image: Hijiri_Name_Sig.png]](https://image.ibb.co/k1H7Hd/Hijiri_Name_Sig.png)