# Ch.36: Quickest infiltration ever

And lo, the highly tossable foxes had stew for lunch.

F4 was already back in his body.

F2: So, what now?

J: Do you really have to ask that all the time?

F2: Sorry, but I want to know!

J: *sigh* We have to go back to that dump, and hypnotize some chumps.

F6: What do we do with the leftovers?

Z: Put them in the fridge.

F4: Wait, we have a fridge?

J: Yes. Leave the organs next to the meat.

F5: Hold on!

F5 Ran to the Bradley,

and opened the fridge that had been revealed behind a plate.

It contained meat jerky.

F5: I was going to complain that you already had meat.

J: Buuut?

F5: Yeah, I think that eating fresh is better.

After that, they returned to the overly gaudy city.

More specifically to their room.

J: Ugh, just looking at the walls makes me sick.

G: Calm down. Just do your job and we will leave.

F3: We still haven't figured out how to flush the toilet.

J: I have an idea! Let's just call the hotel!

Somehow, they hadn't thought about it previously.

While they waited for the plumber to come,

they covered the suite in god-proof foil.

Finally, the plumber rang the doorbell.

204: Hello, I am the plumber. I come to solve your plumbing issues.

F6 opened the door.

204: GODS WHY ARE YOU NAKE-!? URGH!

The plumber got a whiff of concentrated foxy scent, then F6 pulled him in.

Only the narrator knows what they did to him.

Fortunately, I am that person.

The plumber was knocked out by the visual and olfactory shock,

so they immediately got to work.

After successfully hypnotizing him, giving him a gas mask,

and making him flush the toilet through a combination of

button presses about as complicated as taking off an aircraft,

he finally left to infect people at the guild.

J: Now wait while I destroy the place.

F6: Ok.

F2: But what will we do now? I'm so bored!

J: Fair enough. How about 'C' tells you some real life lore while I work?

F1: It would be an honor if you told us the history of your world.

G: Well, I'm no historian, but I tell pretty good stories.

Z: I will also be working, so don't distract me.

G: So, it is thought that it all started some odd fourteen billion years ago,

but I'm no physicist and I haven't gotten to reading about it,

so let's leave it at that the really important stuff

started happening around ten thousand years ago...

J: Wait, have you done the daily workout?

After doing the daily workout, the F luffy

O rganism

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s kept listening to Guy's story.

He kept talking throughout the rest of the day.

G: ...Now, he managed to piss off the mafia, the secret agents,

and the people who sold him the guns at the same time,

which as it turned out, wasn't good for staying alive.

And this wasn't the first time a family

member of his had died the same way...

F1: That was incredibly foolish in hindsight.

J: Alright I'm back.

F4: How did it go?

J: As it turns out, the guild bosses are tough as fuck,

so I will need you to-morrow.

F4: The chances of dying are VERY low, right?

J: Sure. As much as I would like otherwise, we can't have you die.

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G: Uh, he surely doesn't mean that.

Who knows! Definitely not I.

Z: We do not make direct confrontations, so expect something alike.

G: It's getting late, so how about we go to bed?

Tomorrow will be another day.

Literally.

They awakened from their slumber the next day, except for F3,

who took a midnight leak.

After doing the mandatory workout routine at the hotel gym,

Jack finally told them their mission.

J: Alright,

all you have to do now is deliver some mystery boxes we left in the Bradley,

And set up some boobytraps in other places.

F3: What do the boxes have in them?

Z: Nerve gas and mind control beams.

J: It isn't a mystery if you tell them!

J: Ugh, they come with an attached address.

Leave them in that place and some sap will use it on their boss.

F4: Will they die?

J: Normal goons aren't immune to nerve gas as far as I know,

but their boss? No more than a knockout.

G: A loss to be mourned.

J: Pffwahahaha!

G: Just, get to work, alright?

They sent the boxes to the corresponding mailboxes,

and also installed the classic doorknob/claymore combo on some other places.

Thanks to the will of god, they didn't get lost,

but a puny box had to be sent to another city nearby.

The noir city.

The FILM NOIR city.

THE LUNG HAZARD CITY.

F1: This box is destined outside.

Look at this bastard, saying the bloody obvious.

Z: Yes. Apparently, an important guild does not have a subsidiary in here.

J: Let's just get there so we can leave sooner.

G: I must warn you, it's the city full of smoke that we saw a while ago.

Z: I recommend using your helmets.

F5: Well, how bad can it be?

Z: Very. The crime rate is of ninety-nine percent,

the homicide rate replenishes its population every decade,

there is no sewage system, and there are no libraries.

F3: No libraries?

J: Yes.

Now grab your guns and move your furry asses so we can get this over with.

Upon trying to enter the City That Must Not Be Named proper,

they encountered a heavily armoured road control.

The guard with the crustiest lungs known to man asked them to exit the car.

J: Ugh, just kill him.

G: Let's just play along for now, ok?

663: Alright, are you evil?

F1: No sir.

663: Reason of entrance?

F3: We have to leave a message.

663: Are you poor?

F1: No sir.

663: Prove it.

F1: *Shows bag full of gold*

663: Uh-huh. Are you treated against ribrot?

F4: Uh, we're not from here. Can you tell us what it is?

J: Probably some bullshit. Just kill him already. 663: Ribrot is a deadly

disease that affects the floating ribs...

G: Don't! 663: It involves an infection by a certain bacteria which causes...

J: He's just making shit up! Kill him already! 663: Necrosis of the tissue

leading to certain death...

G: Just give him a bribe!

663: This illness is very common in here,

so visitors must be immunized by removal of the floating ribs.

F1: Well, here is my immunization card. *Hands bag*

663: You may pass.

F5: Finally!

663: Only him.

F5: DO YOU WANT TO TRY OUT OUR MAIN CANNON!?

663: Everyone may pass.

Once inside, the two girls of the group got bothered every once in a while.

322>F6: Nice curves!

F6: *Uses Beretta*

322: OW MY KNEECAPS!

323>F2: Looking slender!

F2: *Blam X2*

323: OW MY KNEECAPS!

324>F6: Wanna put those thighs to work?

F6: *Blam blam*

324: OW MY KNEECAPS!

325>F2: *whistle* How about you try my baguette, french girl?

F2: *Blam again*

325: OW MY KNEECAPS!

F2 wasn't that thin. Her height deceived.

Z: I think that we aren't blending in.

G: It's probably because we look too clean.

J: Alright, I think I know the solution for this.

They walked to the laundromat and put their coats in reverse cycle.

They came out dirty.

F3: How-

J: Don't ask. It makes no sense.

Looking native, they didn't get bothered often, and reached their target:

a shoddy residential high-rise.

They tried cramming themselves into the elevator,

but it went down a bit and stalled.

J: The bastards cheaped out on the maximum load!

To be fair, six 2+ metre tall foxes with full gear weren't exactly light,

so they had to take the stairs.

Their daily training must have paid off, because they weren't overly tired.

F4: Phew.

F1: This door does not seem to have a mail slot.

J: Then make one!

F5: *Punches door*

F5: Alright, now pass it through.

F1: *Inserts box through fist-shaped hole*

F4: Are we going to just leave it like that?

J: That's what he gets for having a cheap door.

In my house, every door is a vault door.