License To Make Money
Fox's left hand gripped hard, but the rope, which was easier to grab with skin like those of humans, slid with ease, forming smoke around his palm. However, Fox didn't feel the pain, letting the ultra Mintip take care of that, but he could feel the heat, which would mean horrid pain if he didn't stop it.
With rapid movement, Fox tapped onto the glass, still holding onto the rope, with Armando held by his right arm as he grappled onto Fox, this time facing him. As Armando pressed his forehead against Fox’s right shoulder, Fox’s feet tapped the glass, careful not to break but still powerfully sending himself up.
When he finally stopped their descent, Fox let go of Armando with his right arm, but he still grappled onto Fox. Fox grabbed another similar bion from his left upper back. He aimed it below the other broken window and shot it, letting go of the other rope after deactivating it with a button from his right thumb.
Fox rapidly grabbed the new rope on his left, remaining ‘standing’ on the wall for a second. Just as he began falling, and Armando despaired, he pulled himself upwards. Fox ascended the rope, quietly and smoothly at first, before speeding up.
Up above, the 3 suited people looked over the broken window on the left, but they couldn’t see anything. Only a red alarm on the street, perhaps to further keep the civilians from any possible, sudden accident that the system wouldn’t read in time.
“There’s nothing!” - “Send someone to check the streets. It doesn’t matter who’s looking, grab the corpse if you have to!”
The suited people slowly dispersed, enraged and with lower morale as they had nothing. What was now in their hands might still be nothing. They headed to the elevator, with 4 already carrying everything they were grabbing from the office waiting inside, when something happened.
From their backs, a strange sound echoed, something like a belt sliding on a rope, echoing from afar, and coming towards them. They stopped and looked backwards.
“!”
Bang, bang, bang- thud! Bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang…!
Fox showed up, jolting onto the edge, but he rapidly grabbed the rope, still not deactivating it, and turned Armando around, whose limbs could barely still move, let alone help him stand or continue grabbing something.
Fox unceremoniously tied the upper end of the rope around Armando’s waist tight before turning him around, therefore kicking him out of the window. His pistol hung on his left shoulder, but it was down to his waist. He bent a little forth, with his back facing the stupefied suited people who barely lifted their arms, and grabbed the pistol with his back almost fully bent.
Fox fired his pistol, killing 3 in the head, aiming at them from his left waist, before one of them rushed at him to tackle him out of the window. As Armando rested, hanging just below the broken window’s wall, he sobered when the gunshots rang.
Welcoming the charging suited man with his left fist up as a shield, Fox stepped forth with the respective left foot. The man used his forearms together to bash him away, even if he had to jump out, too. But Fox didn’t even move, and instead, the man felt his forearms’ bones break.
Taking advantage, Fox turned the pained, surprised man around with his right hand, still holding the piston in his left, and used his broad chest with bulletproof vests to further welcome the incoming bullets. Lowering his left arm, aiming from the man’s head, he fired again.
It didn’t matter that they had vests, the small pistol shot through them from so close. They had nowhere to hide, except the tall, lavish desk they turned over whilst Fox played with his improvised swing. It was exactly that reason he didn’t fight just then and there, because many suited people, including women, were coming up the elevator.
With nothing to hide, it would be a miracle if Armando isn’t at least almost shot dead. The desk could be a cover, but only for a few first shots.
Fox aimed at their heads, killing another 2 with ease. As the gunfight unfolded, immediately informing the rest of the building downstairs until the bottom, the elevator motioned on its own. It went down automatically, but a mere split of attention from Fox was all that was required for those 4 inside to die.
A bullet went through someone’s left jugular, bouncing off the wall and gushing brain matter on an elevator’s corner. The other 2 were headshot together, falling limp as the elevator wasn’t affected and continued descending at a moderated pace. Those wanting to see if there was someone in the elevator who needed help could only get surprised and mortified at once.
The elevator’s doors remained opened as per the procedures, but as it went down, Fox’s attention returned to those right in front of him. The man he used as a meat shield was limping, with his entire torso bloody and his flesh disarranged. A lung stuck its upper section out between a pair of ribs.
Fox didn’t discard him yet and fired at the remaining 2 suited men. One was hit in the stomach with the vest, leaving him without air. The bullet barely penetrated it, entering his body, which was worse off for him. As the man knelt, the remaining suit covered for him, standing to block Fox’s view, but the latter had already aimed at the former’s left knee.
The suited woman fell on her left knee, scrambling down without hopes to get up. The might of a small pistol wasn’t something even the militaries across the world were ‘an expert to’, only ‘the kids’ from Preut would understand.
As soon as she fell on her stomach, and shut her eyes tight, the man she protected quickly crawled to the desk. When the woman had just opened her eyes, and her ears barely registered the beginning of another gunshot, her eyes contents sized down to reflect a bullet less and less. Yet, it became more obvious as it came closer and closer.
Her head exploded through her glabella, before hitting the man’s left shoe, still crawling away. She slumped on the floor with a baby’s fist-sized hole nearly splitting her head. The rooftop of her head somehow kept it together.
Fox indifferently looked at the desk, where the last person remained alive. The person knew it was death or a worse death, so he shouted, “Alright, Fox. Listen, we can talk! But I still want to live after you, so I can’t tell you much abo-”
Bang bang bang bang! Fox didn’t give anything any additional thoughts and shot the desk, making 4 notorious holes as a few, slight ‘thud’ sounds followed. The man was shot in the tailbone’s lowest end, right lung, collarbone, and head, in that order.
Turning around, Fox helped Armando back up. Armando looked at Fox with widened eyes, but calm. When the rope loosened around his torso, and it fell to the sidewalk, Fox shook his body to further sober him up. Fox couldn’t allow Armando to be in a shocked state now.
“Where are the stairs?” Fox asked, Armando was baffled, still processing. “Huh?”
“The hidden ones,” Fox elaborated before grabbing his case. It had nothing, so it was left behind. With his left-handed nails, he Fox forced a thin aperture to open, revealing some bions, especially comets and a few pivots.
“Over here,” seeing Fox getting ready for more, Armando went to the side, pushed some thrashed documents and rubble away before pressing his thumb on the floor. A small portion sunk before a square slowly slid, integrating itself into the side, revealing a staircase enough for 1 person to walk through at a time.
“Go pick your stuff, we’ll return to check other things.” Fox said, heading to the stairs. Armando said nothing and walked to his desk, pushing it a little after almost vomiting when he saw the corpse behind. He did the same, but this time, he had to pull a handle up from the floor after the painting ‘disappeared’ from a small section.
Taking a few cylindrical and rectangular items the size of a middle finger and the width of 2 thumbs from the hidden compartment, he then returned to Fox, but this time with questions.
“If we could take such a risky route to escape danger, why did we come back up here? What is this about, Fox?” Armando frowned and spread his arms with hands at his waist level. Fox prepared to go down, submachine gun ready, when he heard those words.
He turned his head and stared at Armando, who felt a bit betrayed. His breathing was already a bit heavy, and his body couldn’t wait what was to come. What could he say? Fox simply looked back at the stairs and went down, exclaiming when he was halfway down, “Follow me.”
Armando didn’t bother wasting more time. A part of him just wanted to delay, he was scared. Despite being in the cold, night skies, which he hoped nobody saw, he was already sweating and feeling like a fever could strike him any time.
Coming down the stairs, Fox appeared beside the elevator downstairs, with its gates obviously closed. The floor downstairs was emptied, but it seemed like everyone who used to work here left in a hurry. Fox waited until Armando came down to stop him.
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“Whenever we change floors or step into another room, wait until I tell you to.”
“Mm, okay.” Armando nodded and expressed. Fox nodded without looking back and walked forth. After confirming his ears of not hearing a breathing noise or a movement of hand signals weren’t erroneous with his eyes, Fox lightly voiced, “Come inside.”
Armando walked to the spot where the next hidden stairs were and opened them just like before. Once they went down, Fox asked while letting his senses work their sensory magic. “Why were the stairs closed here?”
“They must’ve done that to not let the people you killed get to them. The elevator is blocked and back at the lowest floor.” Armando responded, to which Fox asked again, “Then, why didn’t you?”
“There was no one left,” Armando responded again, helpless. Also confirming he knew they’d treat him like a dead man, which wouldn’t have been wrong had Fox not been here. Fox commented, “And the boss atop?”
“Oh, no. He’ll stay there, safer in his dispatch.” Armando replied like it was the most normal thing. Fox frowned. He let his hearing sense check the outside of the stairs, another floor down, and voiced, “That leaves him an easy target. So stupid.”
“Eh, well, nobody will get to him that way.” Armando waited, gulped, and sweated a little more. Fox casually commented before going out to check himself, “if anyone wanted to kill him, just a few boom booms in your floor would’ve been enough.”
“Ah… now that I think about it,” Armando felt stupid before casually commenting with eloquence. Then, all he heard was silence. Just out of curiosity, he peeked out, only to find Fox grappling against 3 suited men, and 2 women aiming their handguns at them, not daring to friendly kill their comrades.
Fox had just broken someone’s left knee as they tried to clutch his neck with such ease that it made Armando tremble. Then, Fox snapped off that someone’s neck with a simple slap from his left hand turning to a knife stance.
Bang bang, pah! Thud, bang- bang bang bang- pftt~!
Fox grabbed his pistol in that fraction, as he received 2 elbows placed together on his back, and a kick to his left shoulder. He shot below his right arm, near his ribs, sending the one who struck him with his 2 elbows backwards, dying with his chest broken apart.
Then, Fox aimed at the guy before him with his right hand, crouching and destroying his vertebral column from the front before forcing his body above him. He used it as another meat shield and rushed to the women. With the beehive-dead suited man thrown to one of the women, hitting her head on the wall with his butt on her face, Fox shot through the other’s left eye all of a sudden.
However, right after, Fox aimed at Armando peeking over the stairs. Armando saw the muzzle and let his instincts kick in, saving him from 3 bullets after Fox changed his aim and waited. He became paralyzed when he detected 3 impossible-to-see bullets fly past where his head was, exactly one above the other, one after the other.
“Told you to stay put,” Fox’s voice echoed from the outside. Armando resisted the urge to go out and cry in fear. Fox finally gave the order, “Okay, come out.”
“Fox?!” Armando came out and demanded loudly, but Fox grinned. He rested his face before turning around. He grabbed the submachine gun he dropped before starting the fight, and resumed their path down the building. Armando could only silently follow.
… Opening one hidden staircase after another, they continued going down the building. The employees had run away before the suited people barged into the building and occupied the floors. They also didn’t know about the hidden stairs.
As they went further down, with Fox sometimes finding a few who did find the staircases’ doors and investigated them, dispatching them off with ease and before they could react; Armando saw Fox’s methods and grew numb. His scalp and hands, hanging from his arms, tingled whenever Fox refused to easily and rapidly kill some suits.
Nevertheless, Armando could see why someone like Fox would choose a path like this. Be it lunging towards an enemy who can kill you, entangling them at melee before they can react to a quirky set of movements that ends up paralyzing them and sometimes causing their death. Anyone could grow addicted to such barbarous behavior. It was power.
In some floors, the suited people cut the energy off, leaving them in the dark. Yet, Fox continued moving, letting Armando crouch, holding his head for dear life in the dark in a corner before the exit of the stairs. His life was endangered a few times, with footsteps different from Fox’s coming near the door, some even walking into it by mistake. Neither side had lights.
Yet, Fox protected him from any possible danger just in time, sometimes a bit too close. From the second-highest floor to the bottom, facing a little over a hundred suited men and women, Fox brought Armando to the streets. By then, there were some specialized police forces making a perimeter.
When Fox came down with Armando, some gave him simple nods before they slipped away like they weren’t seen. It was a bit strange, and Fox could feel he should feel guilty towards some of them, but he didn’t and just went on to deliver the target to his home.
***
Outside Proteros’s senate chamber. At night.
Sebastián walked out of the building and saw a young woman waiting for him with a large coffee in one of her hands, waiting for him. He smiled and lowered his head. He was about to wave high up at the blondie, when another woman walked to him from behind.
“Hey, Sebs,” Loma Jenta came walking with her long chestnut hair swaying in the air. Sebastián Lara looked to the side, becoming startled when her face was too close to him. He almost screamed. But he contained himself, then said, “Loma.”
She smiled and talked, brushing her right shoulder on his a little, “No hard feelings, ey? You weren’t in the late lunch break. If you feel hungry still, you can come with us to a small meeting. We’re going to a very nice restaurant.”
“No hard feelings,” Sebastián lifted his right hand and shook it in the air, leaving his left arm to remain stiff, unmoving. However, there was that expected, annoying feeling. And just as Loma’s face dropped a bit, he added, “but I do am tired. I’m going to catch up with Clarita here.”
“Okay, bye then.” Loma said nothing else and lowered her head before leaving his side. Sebastián watched her leaving back for a second before smiling, dropping his head as he neared the blondie.
She smiled and looked up at him, with the fringes at either side of her forehead making her look ever more cutesy. She teased, “Clarita? I heard you talking. Is that right~~? Hehe.”
“Don’t do that, it’s rude.” Sebastián smiled bashfully. He grabbed his coffee and poked her nose with the opposite end where the mouth is, making her adorable younger self become so tender and sweet when she shut her eyes tight out of reflex.
“It’s not fair, you know? Anyways, drink, drink! I formed in the line for 3 minutes for this, thank me yet? Don’t think so, come ooon~.” Clara urged him to drink, as delicate as a feeble wing of a butterfly, so the middle-aged man drank.
After taking a sip, Sebastián exhaled, feeling better. Clara drank from her bottle, which smelled of some juice. Sebastián couldn’t help but feel something strange, making him frown.
“Oh, look at that,” Sebastián felt a tremor from his cellphone. He took it out and read something before showing it to Clara, who also felt her cellphone tremor and was about to take hers out. On the screen, a young man ‘planing’ with an older one swung from one end to another down a broken window from a high building.
The quality was good, but it came from someone in a helitaxi, impossible to see well. Which made sense, or the repercussions for misusing a helitaxi could be social life-ending.
However, the next video came from a police helicopter recording from the distance, ensuring no stupid news anchors would come near with either drones or public helicopters. Anyhow, it got leaked, showing how a young man moved around, killing dozens of people floor after floor, escorting a terrified person further downstairs.
The obscured floors were lighted with night vision, making everything nearly clear. Clara looked up at Sebastián after understanding what was happening. She became a little stern.
“That guy messes everything everywhere every time, heh?” Sebastián pressed his lips together and said, trying to sound comforting, but hiding it well. Clara inhaled and exhaled deeply, feeling her face become heavier.
“Hehe, thanks, drink again.” Clara lowered her head with a grinning, saddened mouth. Sebastián complied as they walked along the sidewalk, falling silent; a comforting silent. At one point, he took another drink but didn’t lower his head, staring at the sky between the tall, wide, enormous buildings overall.
“What is it?” Clara delicately inquired on his right. Sebastián looked at her with the corners of his eyes before placing her on his left, where she could walk on the sidewalk without facing the street directly. Then, he said, unable to forget the sensation of that wetness around the drinking hole before he took a sip from his coffee. “Nothing, I was just considering buying a ‘very nice restaurant’.”
“Hahahaha, hehehehe…” Clara burst in laughter. Her every behavior, reaction, and charisma making him feel better. They continued walking, feeling comfortable to spend a few hours of the night in some local restaurant together.
***
Presidential Precinct.
Luis looked at the videos again and again. It has been a couple of hours already. He finally stretched his neck, snapping in some places, and stared at Roam, who remained by his side dutifully. Roam opened is mouth to say, “Is there something you would like to say, sir?”
“No,” Luis said, affirmatively. Roam frowned a bit, trying to comprehend, but Luis continued, “It can’t be him. There’s no guarantee with someone like this. So beastly, unreliant, slaving to his thrill… crazy on murder and violence.”
“I cannot let such an image blaspheme mine!” Luis said in a slightly high pitch. He stood up and put his jacket on in somewhat of an ill mood. Roam walked to him, trying to advise him, “Sir, I’m afraid that, to try and change something when you haven’t met in a while-”
“There are no buts for me. I’m the president! And for 2 consecutive terms. I should be able to decide something if not everything, no?” Luis contemplated in a loud voice and a potentially irksome attitude, but Roam remained with him.
“At least, let me accompany you.” Roam offered, but Luis remained firm. “No! You will only remain her distraction device in our ‘conversation’. You will keep things orderly here… and Roam.”
“Yes, sir?” Roam cut his sigh half the way down, glancing at his president. Luis stared with his eyes lining around his eyes sockets’ lower corners before speaking, “He’s not responsible enough. No, not even that, cross the ‘enough’. He isn’t worth it. As a matter of fact, he is not worth a mere word. I won’t offer him that. Too dangerous and high for him. That kid will only cause trouble. I have enough of my own to deal with the shit in the diapers of a random ‘skilled’ assassin.”
“Indeed, sir. But don’t discard him away to be forgotten, his use is beneficial to the country.” Roam tried to level things down, to which Luis nodded slightly, blinking his eyes indifferently, “Eh, I know this. And he will have to, too. When he returns, he shall come to my office at a word’s notice.”
“I will have that prepared, sir.”
…