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Mob 5.9

o – o – o – o – o – o – o –


April 18, 2011

1:21 PM

+ 350 XP
+ 700 XP (Bonus)
+ $78
ABB III: Kung Fury
13/40 Lvl 10+ ABB defeated.

The gangster adjusted his aim and Greg made his move, quickly dashing to the side in a feat of speed that could only be described as blatantly superhuman. His sudden movement came not a moment too soon as a sound of thunder jarred the blond's eardrums at the very same instant that a section of the wall exploded less than a meter away from his face.

Status Effect: Mild Hearing Impairment (Ruptured Eardrum) - 10 minutes

Fu-! His head jerked back as the sound washed over, Greg shutting his eyes for an instant as his upper body was peppered with fragments of plaster and drywall dust, a spike of pain stabbing into his skull without warning. Less than a second later, the blond furiously shook his head as he pushed away the pain, vicious anger in his eyes as he charged towards the backpedaling shooter, the mob of gangsters already on the move themselves.

In hindsight, that was a bad move.

-88
Status Effect: Severe Bleeding - 15 Minutes

Another gunshot rang through the air as Greg let out a sound that was more anger than pain; a new hole opened up in his chest and a white-hot pain in his torso and back informing him of what happened. He paused, only stumbling for a single moment as the pain in his chest ate at what little remained of his self-control.

Still, it was enough time.

The crowd of people thickened in a rough semi-circle centered on him, the shooter already lost behind a wall of men. A metal bat came swinging down on him, its holder likely cursing in some language Greg either didn't know or bother to think about at the moment. The blond reacted, hand grabbing hold of the silver-colored melee weapon as he yanked the thing forward.

The man on the other end was pulled towards him, letting go of the bat at the last moment as he realized what was happening. Greg, new weapon in hand albeit in an awkward position, swung the bat directly behind him on a gamble as his eyes darted around to those opponents that he could keep track of already. The sound of several people crying out in pain as the bat met resistance was all he needed for confirmation and the blond spun around, the wind buffeting around his limbs as he thrust his leg forward in a kick any true Spartan would be proud of.

A burst of wind exploded outwards as his foot made contact, the thug on the receiving end flying across the room and colliding against the door with a cracking noise that sounded nothing if not utterly painful. Before he could even take a moment to celebrate that little victory, Greg was forced to dodge again as the edge of a long bladed weapon flitted past his field of vision.

Shit!The blond quickly threw his head back in the opposite direction as another machete came swinging for his head less than a second later. Greg responded by swinging his own weapon back, yet another machete blade bouncing back off the thinner end of the bat as he diverted it into someone's open face. The resulting shriek of pain and accompanying spray of blood from a broken nose only made the smile under his mask grow that much bigger.

He knew that it wasn't the fight itself he was enjoying so much as much as it was the knowledge that he was making them hurt with every action he took. Still, the fighting didn't hurt… in a manner of speaking.

His heart rate spiked as he ducked forward, quickly maneuvering into a forward roll to avoid the continuing onslaught of weapons from all sides. Springing up to his feet in a handstand that quickly turned into a backwards flip, Greg drew around to face all of the ABB again as they formed up on each other, no longer allowing anyone of them to be at his back.

Acrobatics Lvl Up!
23→24

"Well, come on," Greg bit out, undisguised eagerness in his tone as he tossed the aluminum bat over his shoulder and brought both fists up to his face in his best mimicry of a boxer's stance. He let the reinforcement around his body die down, the realization that he needed them in good enough condition to answer his questions coming to mind. "Let's do this. I don't got all day."

"Jayus lo!" One of the thugs closest to him, a reedy man with a thick head of hair and dressed in a green leather jacket, let out a shout as he lunged forward, a butcher's knife in one hand. The panic in his voice was clear for all to see and only made more obvious by the fear-stricken expression he wore. He rushed towards Greg despite all that, his confidence inspiring several of those around him as they began to make their own move, another in a red jacket of similar make right behind him with knives in both hands.

For Greg, time slowed down by at least half as he prepared for their approach, eyes darting all over as he noted their weapons. Granted, half speed was still pretty damn fast when several grown men were charging you down in a room already filled to at least a fifth of its capacity but still…

It was enough.

Fistswitchbladebrassknucklesbatknifeknivesmachetepistol.

The thoughts filled his mind in a fraction of a second, Greg adjusting his stance as the eight men neared him with visible anger in their eyes… Now.

Greg Veder had never considered himself an expert on advanced martial arts on any level, his fighting skills consisting of knowing how to throw a simple punch or kick and everything he needed to do not to trip over his own feet while doing so. He also didn't consider himself a master of the more simple arts either; the intricacies of boxing or wrestling eluded him.

Honestly, it was a good thing that the wannabe hero never thought that highly of his own skill because what happened next could not be considered advanced or masterful in any way, shape or form.

Gloved fists moved with a furious speed as he dashed forward, slamming into Red Jacket's unguarded face and chest several times before the man dropped to the ground, each blow visibly jarring his frame before the knives flew from his hands. Without hesitation, Greg sprang at the next one with inhuman speed, slamming a vicious elbow into Green Jacket's chest.

+ 275 XP
+ $75

The man stumbled back, choking as he tried to take in air, but remained on his feet. Greg didn't allow him the option. Weaving around the attacks of several of his friends, the blond met the thug's attempts to stay in the fight with a punishing kick to his lower body, sending him screaming to the ground.

ABB III: Kung Fury
14/40 Lvl 10+ ABB defeated.
+ 375 XP
+ $25

The annoying thing about this fight wasn't the fact that he had gotten shot already. What was more annoying was that, unlike the other group Greg had encountered today, these guys actually had some sense of teamwork; their quick reaction to any visibly opening was making it just the tiniest bit more troublesome for Greg to get a moment of peace in between hits. Of course, they weren't perfect but still…

They were definitely an improvement.

The last fight he had been in had been a good deal more hectic than this even at the beginning, each man stumbling over each other in their attempts to kill Greg. Here, they had at least some common sense.

Though the slight fog in his ears remained, Greg could hear someone yelling out orders in fragmented English, the words not coming across well amid all the other faint shouts and curses.

Greg dodged to the side as another aluminum bat came swinging at him, the blond tearing it out of his attacker's hand with an angry tug. Wishing to end it fast, the blond twirled the bat into a proper grip and quickly thrust the bat forward, attempting to jab the butt of the weapon into his temple.

Rather than going down, the man snapped his head to the side, wide-eyed with shock as he avoided the strike by a hair. Before he could so much as move again, though, Greg quickly corrected his mistake with a vicious punch that sent the man down.

+ 275 XP

Not even paying the batsman any more attention as he slumped to the ground without a word, Greg spun around with the bat in hand, the weapon striking yet another one of the ABB thugs, the man bending over in pain from the hit right before Greg dropped him with a swift kick.

+ 300 XP

Holding the bat to his back, Greg made it stick there with a quick application of Surface Adhesion, the weapon not budging as his free hand lashed out in a quick jab. His gloved knuckles sunk into the gut of an unprepared thug wielding a chipped machete, the man's leather jacket no protection at all when he didn't bother to zip the thing up. Red-rimmed eyes bulged as the thug let out a wheezing gasp and stumbled backward, that little sound completely drowned out by all the shouting going on around them.

Instincts warned him to watch his back and the teen spun on his heels and thrust his forearm up to guard his face, just in time to receive the welcome gift of a pipe slamming down onto it. Jesus Ch- A shock of pain traveled up the affected limb, the strike sending Greg's body back a few inches as he audibly grunted.

- 9

The pipe was quickly followed up by a slab of flesh in the shape of a fist as it slammed dead center into the teen's chest. Greg bent at the waist slightly, an instinctive action as he tried to suck in a breath, his vision suddenly filled with the sight of a dirty wife-beater and an impressively muscled body.

- 18

As he jerked back up to his full height, a second fist slammed into his jaw from below in a mighty uppercut, and Greg's gaze was lifted high enough from the force of it to catch sight of the chipped teeth, broken nose and scarred face of one of the ugliest men he had ever seen before.

[Critical Hit!]
- 31

Before he could recover from those strikes in tandem, Greg was forced to take another strike as the end of a metal bat avoided his upraised arm entirely as it crashed into his right temple with skull-shattering force, the blond sent reeling with the force of took tremendous effort to force himself not to fall to the ground while still rolling with the hit. A groan spilling from his lips, Greg struggled to stay on his feet as his head pounded like a jackhammer, but he accomplished it regardless. Oh great, I just love the taste of my own blood.

[Critical Hit!]
- 82

Greg glanced back up, ears ringing as he forced down a sudden wave of nausea. Fighting the urge to fall to his feet, the blond let out a wordless scream, full of anger as he pulled deeply on his mana and yelled along in his own head. Wind Explosion!

The explosion of displaced air washed over him like a light breeze, the blowback barely enough to flutter his scarf. On the other end, it was like watching a bomb go off. Most of them were unlucky enough to be directly in front of it were lifted off their feet and slammed into walls, tables, chairs… whatever happened to be in their path served to break their fall. The rest were toppled over, knocked to the ground and suffering nothing more than a slight dazing. Good enough.

+ 250 XP
+ 275 XP
+ 225 XP
+ 300 XP
+ 300 XP
+ 250 XP
+ 225 XP
+ $415
Basic Aerokinesis Lvl Up
14→15

The blond rushed forward into the mob of fallen ABB, doing his best to ignore the pain as it reverberated throughout his skull, a solid thudding from the side of his eye warning him to be careful. Okay… let's finish this quick. A hand tore at the bottom of the balaclava under his mask, Greg pulling down the cloth to expose his mouth. Before I start getting angry.

As he freed his mouth from its cloth enclosure, Greg quickly rushed forward again, taking them by surprise with his speed as he forced himself directly into the face of the first man to regain his footing. With a forceful ejection, Greg spat into the gangster's face, painting his eyes with a mouthful of blood.

The cry of surprise and disgust was expected as his hands flew to wipe his eyes, as were the similar shouts thrown by several others around him, the remaining men rushing to attack him.

Already prepared for this, Greg parried several vicious strikes away from his body, diverting them off to the side, and with a seemingly unnecessary spin, the teen jerked to the side and slammed his open arm into the blood and spit-covered man with a move that was half-clothesline and half something else entirely. Hurricane Lariat!

The tightly packed air churning around his forearm lifted the thug up and sent him across the room, the body only stopping when it slammed into a desk and slumped over it.

+ 275 XP
+$42

The blond was already in motion as soon as the ABB went flying, using the remaining churned-up air from his aerokinetic clothesline to boost the force of his jump as he darted towards two shirtless men trying to circle around him.

His jump turned into a dropkick, the force behind it magnified by his aerokinesis once more as Greg's feet met the other man's chest with a visible burst of air upon contact. It hadn't been intentional, not in the slightest, but Greg Veder would be lying if he said he wasn't smiling as he sent the thug flying face-first into a wall with a scream and the sound of something cracking that definitely wasn't the sudden hole made in the cheap drywall and plaster that led to an adjacent room.

+ 250 XP
+ $30

As several others scrambled to their feet, a flash of gold caught Greg's gaze and he rushed forward again, eyes locked on his target as the man attempted to pick himself up off the ground.

"You!"

The man in question reared back and nearly fell over, quickly attempting to scramble behind a desk for cover as his eyes widened in visible fear.

Greg didn't allow that.

The blonde's gloved fingers tightened around a handful of thick, greasy hair and yanked the shooter to his feet with a pained yelp as he visibly struggled. Greg drew his fist back and let an angry fist fly directly into his captive's face. "Fuck you."

He hit him again, growling with the strike and forcing a choked groan from the chain-wearing gang member. "Fuck your chains too." Another hard strike to the chest, the sound of something cracking under his fist music to Greg's ears. The third was just overkill at that point, considering the second hit was enough to make sure that the guy wouldn't be getting up for a while.

Still, Greg felt like it was important to make sure of these things.

ABB III: Kung Fury
15/40 Lvl 10+ ABB defeated.
+ 400 XP
+ $137
+ Frisky Cruiser Sunglasses (Black)
+ Beaded Dragon Gold Chain (14K)
+ IKOZE Sports Watch

Greg let go of the man, allowing him to drop to the ground, turned his attention back to what remained of the ABB in the room. Five of them still stood, one with a nose currently gushing blood as he tried his hardest to look threatening with a machete in hand.

The teen drew his fists up again, ready to crack another joke at the expense of the ABB when the sound of another gunshot echoed through the ground floor of the office building. Greg stumbled forward as that familiar white heat spread across his torso, the sensation feeling like a vice grip around his chest.

[Critical Hit]
-172
Status Effect: Severe Bleeding - 45 Minutes
Resistance: Piercing Lvl Up!
30→31

Fuck… Fuck… Fuck. Jesus fucking Christ, that hurts!Greg forced himself to ignore the second hole in his chest and the inconsequential ABB armed with melee weapons trying to entrap him as he turned to stare daggers into the confused man. The man in question was busy staring between the gun and the boy in black, likely wondering why the latter wasn't bleeding out on the floor.

"You." Greg pulled the bat from his back and twirled it slowly, the thing coming free as he willingly cancelled the Surface Adhesion skill. The sweaty thug glanced up at Greg as his voice caught his attention, gun falling from his trembling hands as his eyes widened.

"I'm gonna make you eat metal." He punctuated the statement with another twirl of the bat, all the while fighting the urge to wince again as the burn in his chest kept eating away at him. In all honesty, the pain was a great motivator for what came next.

The vicious bat to the man's kneecaps was something that Greg believed he would remember fondly in the coming future, possibly in the form of a story that he would tell to Sparky. The day he delivered a lesson as to why you shouldn't shoot people in the back, an entirely different lesson from why you shouldn't shoot people in the first place.

That lesson came in the form of an angry roundhouse to the jaw.

+ 300 XP
+ 275 XP
+ 225 XP
+ $460.25
o – o – o – o – o – o – o –
(5 Minutes Later)


"I'm not gonna ask you again!"

Greg Veder spun the man around, slamming his bruised body into the broken and cracked wall, the back of his head bouncing off the drywall for what had to be the fourth time in half as many minutes. The tattooed man's attempts to struggle were almost laughable, the blond cape's innate strength making even holding back a man larger than he was much easier than it should have been.

Si Taksin.

That was his name, Greg knew that much. It had been less than twenty minutes since he had Observed the thug as he and his four-man crew loaded several metallic suitcases into this building; the same ones that Taksin adamantly chose to remain tight-lipped about.

Greg sunk his fist into the man's stomach several times more as he growled his words into the remaining gang member's face, punctuating each one with another strike to the solar plexus.

"Start." Punch. "Talking." Punch. "Or." Punch. "Else." Punch.

The last few were met with almost no resistance as Greg's target went almost entirely limp in his grip, the thug's eyes almost rolling back into his head. "Wake up!" Greg's voice was a growl as his hands gripped the man's shoulder tight, furiously shaking the man in an attempt to force him back to consciousness. When Taksin didn't respond, the blond fired off a quick Observe and frowned at the results as the thug's health still rested at nearly an eighth of its maximum.

"Hey!" Greg tried again, shoving a finger into the man's face as he pushed him back against the wall. "Don't try and pull that. I know you're faking." Both his hands dropped to the man's chest as the teen gripped his shirt and Greg fiercely shook the man, trying to force him back into consciousness through his own means.

After a few seconds, it was clear that his attempts were pointless. Fuck.

With a frustrated sigh, Greg pushed away his anger again, letting it sink into the ever-placid lake that was Gamer's Mind as he ignored the voice in his head berating him for not holding back enough. Without even looking at him, the blond pushed the thug back against the wall, mind already on another topic as he turned around. Another waste of time.

ABB III: Kung Fury
16/40 Lvl 10+ ABB defeated.
+ 400 XP
+ Convict Brass Knuckles (Chrome)
+ $110

Greg left the man to fall to the ground in a crumpled heap as he began striding over the unmoving and bleeding bodies of multiple ABB, not even bothering to so much as pause, his gaze focused on several metal cases resting on a few desks at the far end of the room.

The blond stopped in front of the four desks shoved up against each other, each table holding two of the suitcases he had seen before. "Since he didn't want to talk…" Greg angled himself to face the case closest to him, fingers already reaching for the clasps, "then I guess I gotta see it for myself."

It opened with a click.

Blue eyes narrowed, Greg staring at the multiple items inside the padded foam confines of the suitcase for a minute before uttering a single word as he chose one to focus on. ["Observe."]

Those same eyes glazed over for a moment as he quickly read the panel that arose over the item he had been focusing on before completely shutting for a moment. As the moment passed, Greg Veder snapped his head back to the beaten and bruised form of the last ABB to hit the ground, face fixed in what could only be described as a venomous glare. "Are you…" His lips curled, sentence becoming a snarl before the blond could catch himself. A few moments passed before he made another sound, that of a single breath as he released it.

"...fucking kidding me." He continued speaking, ending his thought as his hands trembled above the suitcase. With a sense of cautiousness and patience that most wouldn't attribute to Greg, the teen shut the case and carefully re-did the latches, and returned to staring at the table with a flat expression.

Tinker Bomb
Effect:
Unknown

An exotic, timed explosive of unknown effect and of unknown origin designed by a parahuman of unknown identity. Possibilities range from incendiary to sonic to kinetic to transmutative to time-altering, etc…

"...I honestly don't know what I expected." Another breath passed his lips as he slowly shook his head, teeth grinding together. "I really don't."

In another slow move, the blond spread his hand over the tables in a wide arc, one more word on his lips.

"Inventory."

The eight cases vanished one by one as Greg's arm moved over it, each surrounded by a flash of blue light and leaving nothing behind to mark their existence but motes of glowing blue light that quickly faded. A scowl on his face, Greg dropped his fists on the now-empty table, mouth a flat thin line of displeasure. "Well, now what?"

The blond slowly turned around, facing the room full of prone bodies as he leaned back on the table, still pondering that question. His shoulders sunk, posture dropping as he brought a hand to his mouth and continued to look around the room. His gaze landed on one of said prone figures, the sound of stilted breathing suddenly as loud as a siren in the quiet room.

Greg's mouth turned down at both ends, confusion twisting the frown on his face. I missed one? Tilting his head to the side, Greg pushed himself off the table, paying little attention to the groan of the metal as he removed his weight from it. Eyes flashed blue for an instant as Greg thought the word. [Observe.]

Arashiro "Shirou" Jin Lvl 9
ABB Little Brother
HP:
54/186
Yakuza fanboy and former Dartmouth hopeful, Arashiro Jin was forced into the ABB at the end of his senior year at Winslow and quickly got used to the gang's lifestyle. Enjoys drugs, gambling and the freedom the ABB provides. Terrible at managing money. Currently trying very hard to act like he's unconscious.

Huh, Greg blinked behind his mask as he continued walking over to the ABB in question, taking his time as he avoided stepping on any of the others. None of that was helpful except the last part. As he came to a stop directly behind Arashiro, Greg noticed the thug's subtly rising chest freeze in place. For a long moment, the blond regarded him with completion for a brief moment, eyes narrowing as he slowly realized this one was the same guy that had come after him with a pair of kitchen knives.

Kitchen knives that he barely managed to use, some part of him tried to argue for whatever reason, but Greg quickly strangled the thought promoting some leniency with another argument, Still… it is the thought that counts.

"Get. Up."

Each word was punctuated with a sharp kick in the thug's ribs, each one inciting a sharp intake of breath from the young man lying on the floor. Greg tilted his head to the side as the man went still again, still feigning unconsciousness despite what had just been done to him.

Greg Veder shut his eyes and took a deep breath, unsure if he should shout or laugh at the situation in front of him. Choosing to do neither, the blond dropped to one knee, body looming over the ABB member's bruised figure.

His left hand lashed out next, individual fingers latching on to the gang member's thick locks as Greg pulled back.

Hard.

The howl of agony Arashiro let out gave no illusions as to his state of consciousness, Greg not even flinching as the man's wails faded as he realized the position he was in. The lines of dried blood tracing from his nostrils and the bruising and swelling around his face did serve to remind Greg of the furious combo he had delivered to this man's face and chest, though. So, that's half the job done.

Greg flashed the beaten man a smirk, balaclava still hanging around his neck and leaving his mouth uncovered. "So, do you feel like telling me where you got these bombs from?"

The silence was all the answer Greg needed, the ABB member managing a defiant look through one swollen eye and the other brimming with pained tears.

"Okay. I can understand where you're coming from. I get your position. I really do," Greg managed to shift his mocking smirk into a smile, the friendly expression coming out just as hollow as the humor in his voice. "But I'm just saying, you might change your mind if you understood mine."

Silence.

"Okay, let me explain, then." Greg paused to stretch his neck to both sides, the action failing to create the cracking sound he had expected. "You see, Jin, I'm very angry right now. Mostly 'cause of people like you. Terrorists who think it's okay to bomb this city…"

His grip tightened in Jin's hair, forcing a slight groan from the man, "... think it's okay to kill people and just… just ruin lives. Innocent lives. Innocent people. People who had nothing..."

Greg's teeth slammed down on each other, the blond remaining quiet for a few moments before speaking up again, voice much quieter this time, "... absolutely nothing… to do with any of this and you guys just blew them up because… because…"

The blond raised an eyebrow, tilting his head down as he shot the gangster a look that was equal parts curious and manic. "Why did you guys do this anyway?"

JIn held on to his defiant expression and remained stoic, his only show of emotion being that of slight groans and a continued twitching in Greg's hold as the blond's knee dug forcefully into his ribs.

Realizing that another of his questions wasn't going to be answered, the teen let out a long sigh and continued speaking. "You know, it's taking a lot out of me not to just… I dunno," Greg shook his head as he made a wavering gesture with his free hand, "break your neck or something and go out to find one of your buddies out in this big ol' city actually willing to talk to me. I just want you to know that."

Jin stared back at Greg, defiant expression shifting into something resembling confusion, before reverting all the way back to outright scorn. "You're not… ngggh… you won't do that, teme."

Greg raised an eyebrow at the words, confusion spreading across his expression as the grounded goon finally replied to something he said. "I won't? Who said that?"

A tongue darted out over cracked and bleeding lips, Jin taking in another sharp breath. "You… you did. You would have done it already. You ain't Empire either. They..." Jin gestured with his chin at the others in the room, "They'd all be dead already... if… if you were... Empire."

Geg glanced around the room, slowly nodding. "You sure about that?"

"Yeah, those chikushou fucks… they don't hold back." Jin continued, voice obviously strained. "I bet… I bet you're a hero, probably a new one." The gangster visibly flinched a moment later as the silence left in the wake of his response was suddenly filled with loud, snide laughter courtesy of the cape kneeling above him.

"Hero?" Greg's laughter stopped abruptly, his fist tightening around Arashiro's spiked hair. "See… the thing is, normally, yeah, pretty much. But not right now," Greg paused to wrench the ABB member's head closer to his own face, the thug letting out another scream as Greg yanked him by the hair, "... and definitely not when I'm dressed like this."

Jin's voice faded away again, the man shuddering as he stared up at the skull mask with blue eyes that glared down at him. "Y-y-you're lying…"

Without saying a word, Greg opened his free hand, the other pulling harder on Arashiro's thick head of spiked hair to elicit another yelp. As his fingers opened up, a small tongue of flame came into existence on the blonde's gloved palm, the tongue slowly blossoming into a small sphere that almost seemed to dance a few inches above his hand.

Greg moved it closer, Jin's sweat no longer being from fear alone as the heat neared his face. It took all the willpower the gangster had not to let out another shout when the ball almost doubled in size, jumping to the size of a baseball just a few inches from his face.

"This feel like a lie to you?"

"N-n-n-n…" His words tapered off as Greg closed his fist to snuff out the ball of fire, the grown man letting out a shudder of relief.

"Tell me what I want to know."

Intimidation Lvl Up!
2→4
+ 275 XP
+ Achete Leather Jacket (Red)
+ $85
o – o – o – o – o – o – o –


Rooftop
1:30 PM


Greg Veder stood atop the rooftop adjacent from the building he had just been inside, the teen in full balaclava and mask as he waited for the police to arrive. The last gangster had told him almost everything he could think to ask about, information ranging from who was now leading the ABB to where his gang was getting the bombs from.

Strangely, all the answers seemed to simply range back to one single name. Bakuda.

Why did you blow up Brockton Central? Bakuda's orders.

Why are you blowing up the city? Bakuda's orders.

What does Bakuda want? ...

That question seemed to be enough to stump the man, the guy simply shrugging after a few seconds of thought. Anything further than that was a dead end, with the man bearing no knowledge as to where this Bakuda actually was or where Greg could find the rest of these bombs. He didn't even seem to know who Bakuda really was, apart from the vague knowledge of some bomb-based Tinker Lung recruited a short while ago.

It had been a drop in the bucket, admittedly, but one the teen couldn't help but be thankful for. Greg showed his appreciation to the unwilling informant by knocking him out as painlessly as he could. The guy actually thought I was gonna let him go… Greg rolled his eyes as he let out a snort of laughter. Like he suddenly wasn't a murdering terrorist. Seriously, where does Lung find these guys?

That little bit of humor was interrupted as his phone rang in his pocket, the blond blinking in confusion for a few moments before fishing the device out of his front pockets. Flipping it open, Greg answered it with as much genuine happiness as he could manage.

"Hey, Sparks. What's up?" Granted, it wasn't a lot but it was adequate.

"Hey, G… um, I g-"

"Guess what I just did?" Greg interjected, not even Sparky a moment to really speak in his own eagerness.

"...what? I-is it bad?"

The hesitation in Sparky's voice was almost enough to make the blond snort, his friend no doubt jumping to the worst possible conclusion. "Relax, dude, nothing like that. I just got us a major lead that's gonna crack this whole thing wide open."

"That's…" Sparky sighed, "that's really great, man but I gotta tell y-"

"Waitwaitwait, let me finish," Greg interrupted again, "I gotta tell you ab-"

"Greg!" Now, it was Sparky's turn to interrupt, voice an angry whisper. "Dude, it's really important! You gotta listen to me right now. My parents are all over the place, going back and forth in the living room and I had to go in the bathroom to call you so listen up."

Greg blinked, a slight frown forming on his face at what Sparky was saying before the blond just shrugged. "Sure, sure, go ahead."

"I just called to tell you that…" Sparky paused again, his words trailing off to a furious mutter under his breath.

"Sparks?" Greg couldn't help the frown that deepened on his face as he caught the words 'bad idea' and 'might as well'' from Sparky's undertone.

"...Sorry… Sorry about that."

"It's cool, I guess. Just tell me what you need to say."

"...He escaped."

Greg blinked at the emphasis in just those two words. "Okay, I heard the capitalization in that," he began, frown only now turning into a full blown scowl. "Who exactly are we talking about here?"

"Lung."

– o – o – o – o – o – o – o –
Spoiler: STATUS
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zfighter18

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