# Ch.49: Unbeknownst to the (gods|masses)
Most of the crowd died by the foxes' foxes in a few minutes.
A few highlights were F6 decapitating eight men in one swing of her sword,
and the sixty-ninth victim, who accidentally tripped,
hitting his head and dying instantly.
s e x o f r u O were currently busy incinerating the bodies,
hypnotizing the witnesses, planting evidence,
and stuffing the ashes into a random locker.
J: Awww! Their first human kills! They grow up so fast...
Z: We could deal with their souls later, but they are truly dead.
G: Sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do.
And Jack, could you have some more empathy?
J: Fuck off!
Funny bunny... Maybe the stress gets to him...
Funny bnuuy.
Irwin was sitting in the floor amid the smoke.
The three calamities had decided to give
her a helmet, so she wasn't you know, suffocating.
Fortunately, they didn't use the sulfamic acid this time.
F5: If anyone asks, the other folks did it.
23: Yeah, yeah, I don't have any interest in catching flak for my clients.
But what about the other trash?
F1: We are working on that.
Beware that the smoke is only visually opaque to divine oversight.
23: You must be shitting me. And how are you spamming those fireballs?
F4: We had a teacher who taught us in... Half an hour?
23: That sounds ridiculous, but you are like an endless fountain of ridiculous.
On the other hand,
I know for a fact that it isn't the first a giant murder has happened.
F2: What happened back then?
23: I think the dude got a raise or something,
I didn't really mind at the time.
F3: The gods must not really care then.
23: Well, duh. In a less obvious theme,
how does it feel to see all this violence you totally didn't commit?
F6: Eh.
F5: Didn't know them, didn't care.
F4: Well, it was me or them, and I'd rather be living...
F1: It is what had to be done.
F2: What about you?
23: Is that garbage receptionist dead already?
F3: No, not actually. We will need him as a witness.
23: Damn.
The fokses made sure to hide the remaining gear
in their backpacks before leaving the facility.
When about to stash their helmets,
they took a deep breath before exiting through the door.
23:*cough cough* Well, that was something.
F4: I think that our tour is over, isn't it?
23: Well, that's for you to decide. They already paid me for a month.
F3: I think that we had enough for today.
23: Well! It's been a pleasure meeting you.
Now I won't have to worry about the bills for a while.
F6: Maybe you could repair your shoes.
23: *looks down* Ah, shit. I thought you didn't notice.
I put on the old ones by accident today.
F2: Do you want to go with us?
23: Huh?
F2: I mean, we could do with one more companion on our group.
23: Well, if you say it like that...
Should I stay in this awful mountain of shit,
or go on a deranged adventure with some giant murderkits,
which I barely know by the way? And why do you even care?
F2: *That smile*
J: Boredom.
23: ...I'm actually split here. Do you have something to convince me?
F1: Well, you could look at me in the eyes.
23: Alright, but how is that-
23: Motherfucker... *falls unconscious*
Irwin sat on the darkness. Her reflection was the only thing on the floor.
She saw the reaper come.
23: Finally!
J: Oh, you are one of those.
23: The fuck does that even mean? Can't you just do your job already?
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J: I'm self-employed and will do it whenever I want!
First, let me ask you three simple questions.
23: Ugh, go on.
J: Who do you believe in?
23: No one.
J: *checks clipboard* Alright. What do you believe in?
23: Nothing.
J: *check* Uh-huh. What do you live for?
23: Just kill me already!
J: Look.
I know you have all the reasons in this parody of a world to be annoyed,
so I will tell you one thing: Leave.
23: Isn't that why you're here?
J: I won't give you the pleasure.
You may rightfully complain all you want about where you are,
but beyond these works of falsehood lies an endless expanse.
If you are truly worthy, you will find just as much.
The reaper vanished in the shadows.
23: HEY! DON'T JUST LEAVE ME HANGING LIKE THAT!
MOTHERFUCKER!
Meanwhile, F6 was tucking the mildewy fox into her bed.
F2: She isn't dead, right?
23: *SNORE*
F2: I think that's a no.
F4: What are we going to do about the door?
F5: Just leave the hole, I'm sure she will understand.
F3: Her apartment is rather gloomy.
J: Oh man, I am exhausted.
F1: What should we do now, sir?
J: *sigh* We have to go to the library,
and follow the paper trail to see who is really in charge.
F6: Are you alright?
J: No, not really. I'm really, really tired.
F2: Do you want a hug?
J: That doesn't work in the office.
F3: Why are you so tired?
J: Things have been going way too fast on my side.
Z: The stress makes him swear every five seconds.
J: Fuck off!
F5: Hold on, you mean that normally he isn't an insane bastard?
G: Almost.
J: I miss having my body... And I feel horny...
F4: At least we are here for you.
J: Thanks.
F1: I don't mind if you use mine to satisfy your... Urges.
G: Uhhh, Are you sure?
J: You're suicidally loyal, but thanks.
After having Jack use F1 to get hugs, they went to the library.
They managed to "convince" the librarian to let them in,
and were currently parsing the papers,
which mostly consisted of badly written crayon scribbles.
F1: How did any of these the stamp of approval?
F3: Well, the stamp of approval seems to be that potato on the counter.
F2: Here it is! It reads:
'We hereby declare representative Rose to be a stinky
loser and he should be removed immediately from office.
Signed: Penn Pusher Council'.
F6: HeH+.
Z: Now we should see who hired and funded that council.
A few hours later,
they had set up a corkboard with Technicolor™ strings and everything.
Z: The verdict is clear.
F4: Are you sure about that?
F5: It looks like a mess if you ask me.
Z: Judging by the type and amount of links,
we can deduce that the true rulers are-
G: The representatives.
J: No! The Twins!
F3: That makes sense.
Z: Now we have to visit their address.
G: I hope these aren't just being used by someone off the record.
It happens very often.
F6: *Yawn* Could we do that tomorrow?
G: Yeah, it's getting late. You can go to bed.
They snoozed indeed.
Meanwhile that morning...
The DM was going to his weekly meeting with the SL.
He stopped to pick up two 7068-T6 Aluminiuminum alloy attaches
that were left amongst some tank (track) tracks.
Later, he arrived to the place.
It was like the palace of the soviets, but with all dimensions doubled,
making it a massive sight to behold. And definitely a waste of concrete.
Vulpeculae weren't able to see it becuase it was behind several mountains.
After going through an impractical amount of elevators,
the DM was within the vast confines of the SL's office.
The SL was a middle-aged looking, moustached man fiddling his pockets.
E8: What do you have to show me this time?
K290: Here is my weekly report. *puts attache on counter*
E8: And what about that other one? Did you bring-
Unfortunately for the SL, the attache was actually a Claymore on steroids.
After having it explode on the SL's face,
Bob immediately magdumped his sawed-off Benelli M4-gauge,
which he had gotten from the other, overly long attache.
K290: No, it wasn't my flute collection.
K290: ...Might as well have a drink now that I'm here.
Bob took the time to serve himself a lowball of
unsweetened, 80% ABV absinthe out of the nearby cabinet.
Now that is what I call a macho man.