◆Roque◆
“Where the hell is that bastard?” Tusmon leant against a wall just on the edge of an alley in Hedgehind, the designated meeting spot that Roque had given him. But The Swindler was nowhere to be found, nearly a half-hour late. The detective had been taking that opportunity to catch up on work on his phone, but now he was growing impatient. Just as he was about to call Roque, The Investigator caught the flashing of lights out of the corner of his eye and then there was the brief blare of a siren.
“You in the alley,” a distorted voice rang over the police car’s speaker system. “Turn away and put your hands in the air.”
“Cosdammit,” Tusmon mumbled to himself. Had someone reported him as a suspicious person? The man had been loitering in an unusual spot for quite a while now, so it wasn’t improbable, but it was still Cosdamned annoying.
For now, the detective complied, facing away from the car and putting his hands in the air. Then he spoke up as he heard the officer’s footsteps approaching. “I believe there’s been a misunderstanding. I am Detective Tusmon of the Fiend Crimes Division.”
“Get down on your knees!” the gruff voice barked another order.
The detective still did as told, but further insisted, “My badge is inside my right coat pocket, and I can read you the number.”
“Quiet!” the officer demanded, and Tusmon suddenly felt the barrel of a gun pressed against the back of his head. Things were getting serious, and scenarios rapidly bolted through the detective's mind about what to do. But then another order came, one that The Investigator never could have predicted, “Actually, meow like a kitten for me.”
“What?!” the absurdity caused Tusmon to whirl his head, despite the impending danger. There he found Roque, dressed in a police officer’s uniform. It only took one look of the actual officer’s confusion to send The Swindler erupting with laughter.
“The hell are you doing?!” the detective demanded as he jumped to his feet, getting a grasp of the situation. Roque was in a genuine police uniform, but whomever it had belonged to had their name crossed out with ‘Personson’ written above it in permanent marker.
The police car was obviously genuine as well, marked as a Segrevide Trooper vehicle though, rather than one of Hedgehind’s local cruisers. So really, he could have gotten it from anywhere. Had he bought it at a decommissioning auction, or stolen it from somewhere?
“Well, I’m doing crime, of course,” Roque casually answered the detective’s question. “Grand theft auto—yes, I stole it—impersonating a police officer, harassment, threat of violence and now…” The Swindler jutted his hand forward, lightly slapping Tusmon’s cheek with the barrel of his gun. “...assault with a deadly weapon.”
The man then stowed the pistol and pulled out a pack of cards, his crimecards, and began rifling through them. After pulling out all the crimes he’d just named, he let them flutter to the ground with a ‘Littering’ card for good measure. “Oh, one more,” Roque stepped forward, slapping the card into Tusmon’s chest, as he walked past the detective, further into the alley.
Tusmon glanced at the card he’d been handed, his eyes widening as he read ‘Public Indecency’. Annoyed and uncertain, the detective craned his neck towards the criminal, only to immediately turn back when he caught a glimpse of Roque stripping off the police uniform.
“Heh, looks like you need a peeping card,” The Swindler snickered as he continued to undress. “But you can’t actually expect me to go around in this thing. It clashes with my style. I’ll be good to go in just a minute, since I always keep one of my suits stored in my contracts.”
“There we go, how do I look?” Roque asked rhetorically as he strolled past the officer once more, but not breaking stride to wait for an answer as he returned to the police car. “Now hop in, we have so many more crimes to commit.”
“No way in hell I’m getting in that,” Tusmon refused, though he still rushed over to the car. “And you need to get out immediately.”
“Suit yourself then,” Roque merely shrugged. “I know that since we’ve started our little outing together, you can’t let me out of your sight, so you’ll just have to keep up. Don’t worry, I’ll drive slow.”
Per his words, the man actually began driving away, but only at a rate of a few lages per hour. It was a rate that Tusmon could keep up with casually on foot, but Roque’s grin only grew as he steadily picked up the pace. Fiends that were in shape, which Tusmon certainly was, could reach speeds matching a car on a highway if they really tried, but a city sidewalk was something else.
At first, they’d been in a fairly deserted part of town, but up ahead, Tusmon could see obstacles and pedestrians in the way as he struggled to keep pace with the police car. “Fine then,” Tusmon jiggled the handle of the passenger seat, trying to match the speed which was practically a jog at this point.
But the door to the car was locked. “Let me in!” the detective insisted as the car sped up even more. Roque’s grin had reached zjik-eating levels previously unimaginable. “This isn’t funny anymore, Personson. Seriously, let me in!” Tusmon was seconds away from colliding with a mail-dropbox when the car door finally unlocked. He managed to jump in just the knick of time to get the door closed before impact.
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“Welcome to the crime-mobile!” The Swindler greeted him as if he was a tour-guide. “Today we will be committing every crime that sounds fun and unique. I hope you enjoy your time.”
“This is lunacy!” Tusmon glared as if he was about to punch Roque right in the face. “Why shouldn’t I arrest you right now?!”
“Hmph, you know you can’t!” Roque threw both hands behind his head to relax and look as nonchalant as possible, letting the car cruise forward on its own for a bit. “No arrests during our group’s mutual cooperation, and you’ll turn a blind eye to any crimes you might see us commit. That was the agreement, wasn’t it?”
“Only crimes that are required for the completion of one of your group’s official jobs!” The detective focused in on that minor-yet-crucial correction. “What does this flagrant spit-in-the face of law and order have anything at all to do with a mission?”
“Oh, this is an official job alright,” the man laughed as he pulled it out his phone, chucking it over to the passenger. “See for yourself.”
Tusmon stared at the screen, and the job page was already displayed. 『Requester: Phon Drazah』 『Details: Commit as many crimes in front of Tusmon as you can to make him as uncomfortable as possible.』 『Reward: You can make one purchase from the main account. No questions asked.』
“You’re welcome to leave at any time you like, detective,” Roque offered him an out. “Assuming you have everything you need for your registration. But even if you leave, I’m going to keep committing crimes until I get bored. That could be quite a while. It will be a crime-o-palooza! Are you sure it would be wise to leave me unsupervised? Oh, and I’m certain Phon would count that as you losing to her as well. But she’s totally not the type of person to hold that over you, right?”
“I hate you all,” was the only response that Tusmon could form. “Damn it. Hurry up and get it out of your system, then. But understand that I’ll be doing my damndest to mitigate any damage you might cause.”
“Eh, I don’t really care,” The Swindler shrugged. “As long as the crime still counts, it’s good enough for me. So let’s start with some good ole automotive chaos!” Just then, Roque pulled onto a ramp leading to the highway. The second they hit the open road, the driver slammed the pedal, and they jerked forward, quickly picking up speed.
Roque then performed a greatest-hits of car crime. He tailgated, passed cars in the wrong lane. Briefly drove in the middle of two lanes, swerved between them a few times, never used his blinker. Then he drove on the median, periodically dipping into oncoming traffic when there weren’t actually any cars.
Despite the insanity, Tusmon was honestly impressed by The Swindler’s handling of the vehicle. Even with the insane stunts, it felt like Roque had full control the entire time. Was it just a Fiend’s increased reflexes and response time, or was the man actually skilled and practiced? In another life, maybe he would have made a genuinely competent cop who specialized in high-speed chases.
But any respect and admiration went out the window when Roque finally maxed out the car’s speed and the entire vehicle started to rattle. “That’s enough! Slow down already!” the detective pressured him. “You’re gonna break the damn car!”
“Y’know what detective, you’re right!” Roque smiled again and then slammed on the breaks. The cop car came to a screeching halt, smoke billowing from the tires, and the rest of the machinery groaning in agony. Fortunately, Tusmon had put on his seatbelt while Roque had been pulling off his crazy stunts, as had the driver after he’d secured ‘Driving without a seatbelt’ for his ever-growing crime repertoire. Otherwise, both men would have gone flying right into the dashboard.
And another boon was that The Swindler had gotten so far away from the rest of traffic during his speeding that no one was on their tail to crash into them. Once the car had come to a full and complete stop, Roque let off the brakes, letting the vehicle idle forward with absolutely minimal speed.
“What the hell are you doing now?” Tusmon found the Snurtle-pace just as frustrating as the speeding had been. Cars that had been long behind them had now caught up and overpassed them. Though they didn’t blare their horns as they would to any other driver, since they were still assuming it was an official police vehicle.
“I’m sure you know this as a lawman,” Roque inferred, “but driving too far under the speed limit is just as much of a crime as driving over it. Safety and whatnot. It’s a good time for me to catch up on my crimes.” The man opened a compartment in the car and pulled out even more crime cards specializing in the automotive field. Once he pulled out the needed cards, he chucked them out the window.
But that wasn’t the end. The man then grabbed another stack of cards, all ‘Littering’ and handed them over to Tusmon. “Be a pal and start throwing those out for me, would’ya?.”
“You know I won’t,” the detective refused, but still grabbed onto the cards just to get them out of Roque’s hands.
“Something something, have to assist us with our missions,” Roque spouted, though he didn’t sound remotely convincing, even to himself. “But tell you what. For every 10 or so cards you throw out the window, I’ll increase the speed by one lage-an-hour until we’re cruising comfortably again. Refuse, and we’ll get to our destination maybe by the end of the day.”
“You’re everything that’s wrong with Fiends, you know that?” The Investigator couldn’t hold back his slander. But he still complied, chucking the entire stack out at once, getting them over the guard rail and into a ditch where hopefully they’d disintegrate before the mess could bother anyone.
The driver kept his word, actually perfectly maintaining the speed limit for the rest of the ride. But the man provided no further insight about where they were going, or what stupid crime he was going to pull next. Roque took the exit at the very next town, and then pulled into a parking lot. “I’m bored of car crimes, so we’re heading out on foot.”
Tusmon joined the man in jumping out of the car, and couldn’t stop himself from muttering, “Alright, that’s impressive,” when examining the parking job. Somehow, Roque had managed to park next to a fire hydrant, while also clipping into a handicap spot and an expectant-mother parking spot, with one more tire up on a curb. “Will you tell me what we’re doing yet?”
“Well, I wanted to keep it a surprise, but I’ll tell you if you keep up!” A contract unfurled in front of the swindler, and two assault rifles appeared in his hands. He then began skipping away down the street like a giddy kid on his way to a toy store, waving the guns in the air with unbridled joy. “We’re going to rob a bank!”