The Winds Are The Ones That Have Changed
“Is it here?” - “Yeah, check if anyone's in.” - “…I see the patron, brown old man, right? He's reading some books.” - “Yeah, okay. You move to him and I pull it up. Ready?” - “Oh, hell yeah.”
Fox looked with patience as the 2 criminal, hooded guys peeked over the glass into a small local restaurant. Coincidentally, Fox has heard the attendants visit this place in their free time all the time. It has to be that good.
However, it seemed like it was only now that the criminals were going after it, with the place being 10 minutes from the boutique by walking. It was a rare slip up from them, from what Fox has seen and investigated these past few days.
Fox slid down from the rooftop. Even though his shoes scrapped the wall, and his hand slid through some windows, he only made the wind vacuum whenever his feet dragged his body down. Barely some sound.
Just as a criminal lifted his baseball bat, hitting the window and scaring the owner, Fox jumped on that person’s shoulders. He wasn’t trying to act with style. Immediately, the man’s spine broke, looking quite cartoonish as his body plummeted. The owner was almost having a heart attack, while the other criminal had his right hand behind his back, looking at this with wide eyes.
“…” Fox looked at the latter with narrowed eyes. The criminal could barely see his face, which was enough to identify him, but the criminal had no brain functions for that at the moment. Fox’s polycoria eyes gazed at the young man, a couple of years older, as he stood there.
The criminal put on a bawling face without shedding tears. His right arm brought forth a handgun in his hand, aiming at Fox, jolting with shakiness. Before pulling the trigger, he exclaimed worse than a baby, “Waawanaabwaaaaaah!”
Bang. “…” Fox’s eyes narrowed. His arms were a bit spread apart, whereas a bullet went perfectly through the middle between his left arm and left chest. Fox lifted his left eyebrow after it twitched, but shook his head a bit afterwards. Then, Fox punched the handgun in the young man’s right hand, disengaging the young man’s fingers from his hands.
“Aaaaagggh- puk!” The young man knelt to the ground. As soon as his knees hit the ground, with perfect timing, Fox slightly pinched the criminal’s chin and opened it a little further. He rapidly plunged the young man’s mouth with the handgun before kicking hard onto it.
At first, the young man’s body seemed about to spasm, but in the end, it just didn’t move anymore and stopped breathing soon after. The hit’s impact was transmitted all the way to his brain. Only Fox knew how badly does a strike like this from a special agent means for a civilian, and anyone without breath.
Bang, bang, bang. Fox then grabbed the pistol, a little bloody, and turned his head to the other criminal whose spine he broke with his thighs on his shoulders. Then, Fox aimed at the guts from the back and fired, before throwing the gun to the corpse of the young man.
“…” Fox gave the owner, who peeked with fear creeping over him, but not as badly as curiosity, over the counter; a nod. Afterwards, Fox left, leaving the mess in this street behind. The owner stared over the counter with overly widened eyes. A few minutes later, he decided to step out.
Everything was quiet, but in the corner of his restaurant, there was gore.
On a corner of a building on the other side of the street from the small local restaurant. After Fox dashed away. A figure peeked their head from the darkness, with the growing-full moon revealing her golden blonde, short hair, and a pair of moonlight-reflecting gray, light blue eyes.
Nala Loba looked at the corpses and restaurant owner as he called the cops, and then the national guard, before focusing on the direction where Fox went. She went after him.
… Fox wasn’t just killing any of this organized criminal group’s people whenever he saw some, he was targeting them intelligently, knowing of their whereabouts and who they possibly were. He did patrol a bit to see if he actually found some, and return to search for particular criminals.
Here, there, on the street, in a building, in a little alley, or a large one. Fox seemed to know just where to stroll through the walls, rooftops; and dealt with the few or many he found. He even waited a few or several minutes in some places, killing the rest of criminals who had gone out of their hangout places.
In the morning, as the first lights of the day were shining down despite the gray, rain-announcing season of strong winds and thunderstorms; the people came out of their houses just to see a similar event unfold like yesterday.
They were astounded. Those who go out early on even thought back to yesterday’s news and couldn’t believe when they saw something like it again. They thought they went back in time and were witnesses of those things when or after they just happened. A quick call to the cops or national guard was enough to deal with their hysteria, though.
As the rest of the people exited their homes, they were welcomed with more of this. The only difference was the amount of SPD and NG patrols. Silently, the civilians waited, knowing they could only hope the news weren’t as frightening as they thought.
On the other hand, while civilians waited for the official news, the organized crime set in spreading their blackmailing to the capital city were confused. These, and the civilians, shared something in common, though. They were both unaware, ignorant of what happened the first time, but that was clearly not the same case when it happened the day right after.
Now, as it has happened for the second time, and is just the middle of the week, both were confused. What in the helling hells happened? Where did the congregation for only criminals to die occur? Why was no one notified?
Thus, the criminals woke up to the news of more than 250 of their people, obviously not all armed, being murdered just like the first hundred plus from yesterday. The man in charge moved to send people to scout everywhere their influence had been established, and even recently with the floor charge.
One thing that occurred during the night scared him, even if he hid it. The man, quite a capable one, that he sent to investigate was spotted lifeless with all his organs out but his skin intact. It was obviously the work of a ‘great’ handicraft.
Nevertheless, no one but 2 OCs in the country would be like this, and in his OC’s territory at that. The confusion was slowly turning into a raging fire. Even though they were the smallest organized crime group in the nation, they were untouchable in the state of Proteros, Pretetl, and Túacan for a reason.
Of course, that was something for the organized crime to worry about. The next night, they would fight back and end these bastards.
… During the night, Fox watched as groups of even 50 people walked into an alley, congregating and talking about stuff. Some were violent, others scared, but most were following whoever had the handguns or the occasional, meager firearm.
Fox looked up after staring at them for long. His humble hood felt comfy in the cold, mostly because it let the cold hit his nose and fingers. He could hear footsteps of more people congregating everywhere in certain points in the district. The night was a special agent’s aid to hear farther.
It was even more so for Fox, and his unique senses, who has been getting imaginative with his ultra nails. After calculating the distance from the sounds, and a rough number of people in those groups, he looked back down…
“AAAAAAAH!” - “Wa- fwlack! Aaaahgkgkk…” - “Please, please, please, I was rec-” - “Shit! It’s him! What is he- no, wait! Aww, no wait!!”
A minute later, Fox walked out of the alley. Everything was dark, but the broken blade from his right arm shone some of the moonlight back at it, before Fox kicked it away and another came forth with a ‘pfsst’. Good comets went 1 foot past his fingertips. Then, he rushed elsewhere.
Behind him, half a minute later, a figure peeked out of an alley a few streets away before following him. The night was long…
During the night, there were at least a dozen calls to the cops, and an equal number to the NG line, to report wild shootings. The people had just checked the news of hundreds of casualties again, although not as bad as some thought, and were finally resting under the illusion of a safe night. The cops and NG were also people, but with selfless duties, or supposedly.
Regardless, wherever shootings happened, Fox would have long left before any authorities were remotely nearby.
In the morning, half the district woke up normally, the other half woke up hours earlier and couldn’t sleep back in. Trouble is trouble. When it finally knocks at one’s doors, quite literally, it incites the most primitive memories of human history.
A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
… Without a doubt, the people watched in horror as they came out when they felt it was safe enough, with more light than the first of every sunny morning. News came long after, at the afternoon, leaving the civilians cold and helpless.
Over 400 people were killed last night. It was said that all these people were both from the district or capital, and from other states. They weren’t here on business or pleasure, they were just there. Knowing these many people were in cahoots with the organized crime was more terrifying than knowing how many died. Such was humanity.
The people were now restless. They visited the governmental offices, but as evening approached, they rushed home. Not wanting to stay out at night, feeling more fear than they would if there was martial curfew law.
Just as well, the organized crime in Fox’s business district were on full alert. It’s been 3 days since they were hit. At first, they knew nothing. Then, they became confused. Just now, they tried to fight back with their anger, but were massacred. Many of their people were killed, mostly those who are just of miscellaneous utility. But still.
Now… now they were terrified.
As the evening approached, hundreds of people walked to the same building in the district. A small, unsuccessful roasted chicken service. One had to be very bad to fail this in a nation like Lýmoca, but it still happened.
They didn’t even bother covering for safety’s sake, and even chatted with others to relax, talking out loud of their lawless activities. One thing was common, they had slowed down their floor charge, but they were more pent-up and stressed. Many wanted to just go out and lash out at some weak folk who came out at night. Even more so in these times, only an idiot would.
The man in charge was sweating all day despite the cold, and more so at night. He had to deal with almost a thousand idiots coming here and congregating before managing to send them off at 10 PM. He then went to his room, hoping this was just a warning from some lagjs or something. He has sent word to those lagjs that accept quirky works for the criminal world, hoping they’ll respond despite the requests for more information.
… Another day and news of casualties, cooling the blood of all Lys, causing sensation in the world; another night where the bloody Fox comes out.
With the organized crime in the district terrified, Fox stood atop a rooftop again. It was pretty tall, and close to a useless restaurant. But no, this was too easy. Fox could assassinate generals with utmost security in Preut at 15. What can a measly roasted chicken restaurant compare to?
He turned to the city, where he could see endless lights… outside the district. His fists tightened. The thoughts that have been there before despite his sheer mental fortitude, credited to his evolution, which he couldn’t stop having, were finally smoked away.
He thought to himself, ‘This… I did this…’
It wasn’t a declaration, but a realization. The capital was bright and beautiful, even at the deepest hours of the night, but it was only 11:58 PM and the district his boutique is part of was mostly dark. Only streetlights and a few small windows had light.
Fox inadvertently smiled before stepping backwards, unaware of the peeper a few streets away, sprawling her body on a rooftop while hiding her body from him. Only her eyes were looking at him from afar… curious.
… Fox had a smile as he ran through the rooftops. First, he scared the people who were still on the streets, belonging to the groups he already discovered to be in cahoots with his targets. If not, then he’d wait a few seconds to hear them say a few things. Just half a sentence was enough for Fox to know if they were related.
Then, after making them flee, killing 2 out of 4, or 1 out of 2, Fox would go after them like a predator. They didn’t even bother using their handguns. Those with rifles or submachine guns just dropped them and ran, hoping that was enough to flee, but it never was.
This night was longer, with Fox killing less than any before, but having the greatest fun. He wasn’t in a team, this was no assignation. While all he was doing is murder, and that they are in an organized crime group doesn’t change the fact they are all humans, he was defending his territory. It wasn’t really his, but it was where his boutique was situated.
Other than the business plummeting if something like this continued, Fox was too territorial. He also just so happened to be restrained, and had very few things that were ‘his’, so the chances for him to show this side of him were few.
Now that he got a way to unwind from the events of the ballad night, and he could defend what ‘is his’, Fox felt ecstatic. He was able to go for this and take the matters into his hands, not just watch… Fox chased and killed every confirmed target.
Furthermore, even if he wasn’t so sure who might or not be from the criminal organization, they had this ‘scent’ he could see with his eyes, an invisible form to distinguish. It might truly reach between the work of ancient ants, among other magnificent living beings, plant or animal, and the like. But Fox only used his evolved body for one thing… and that is to kill.
In the morning of the 4th day of this happening, the second-last day of the month, with the moon bidding farewell at around 8 AM, the district woke up in an alarming situation. The entire district was in a lockdown. This time, there were fewer people who were killed. The civilians weren’t even doubting if something happened, only how badly.
The casualties might be less, but the situation was worse. Furthermore, the NG and cops had to restrain themselves and form a blockade around the place where, out in the open, hundreds of people fled to. If those people thought they’d be fine if they didn’t go out at night before, then, after last night, nobody did.
Like a flood striking while they slept, a few lucky bandits came out of their house only to see a NG and SPD vehicle parked at the side. From a fourth point of view, one could see that the bandits’ houses were invaded, and their owners killed, outlining a circle with the failed roasted chicken restaurant in the middle.
With only a few doubting, most fled to their base.
To this, the president was finally fully invested on the matter. However, a casual call to Butler left him helpless. After rubbing his temples and the thinness on the bridge of his nose, he made an order and sat back down. He gave the NG and cops an order. It was simple: focus on protecting civilians.
The civilians holed up in their houses, with the NG distributing food supplies to all in case they needed them, as well as settling stands for medicine, all free. The criminals, on the other hand, holed up around the roasted chicken restaurant, not moving away no matter what.
Slowly, so slowly… That day, the light became moved way slower and hotter despite the blatant coldness. But when it began to flee, it seemed too quick. Cold seeped into the criminals’ bones, etching into their marrow, begging them to run.
… At night, Fox stared from an alley just 50 meters from the roasted chicken restaurant, closer than the police barricade. He could tell that many of the bandits were looking up, already aware the ‘assassins’ might like rooftops a bit too much. He waited until night fell, and then, hour by hour, as the middle of the night approached.
The OC’s man in charge, sweating and trembling, was almost struck with allergy to anxiety if he hadn’t been injected red medicine twice. Of the nearly a thousand people, less than 150 were armed with at least a handgun. The rest either had cold weapons or blunt ones.
But no one wanted to stay at the front, even when many took the buildings surrounding the restaurant, everyone walked around, not knowing where the ‘bloody fox’ would come from. They definitely didn’t feel like ‘dying first’ in anything, much less now.
Slowly crouching, Fox grabbed a case from his lower back, one of those hanging at his back. He silently placed parts on the ground before assembling them, taking his time as his polycoria eyes looked at his targets, barely blinking a few times.
… In a house inside the blockade. A shut-in who could pay his bills in his parents’ inherited house didn’t notice all these things happening. The street was quiet because it was where the OC had control since months ago. At least to a criminal world level.
At this moment, after accidentally opening an app in his screen, he saw the news and read his district’s name. Astounded, he read through many pieces of news… Now, at night, 11:59, he looked towards a window, doing what he just learned to be careful and have fewer chances of being seen.
With all lights off in the house, always left like this, he lowered his body and turned to the side before walking to a window. He took his earphones off, which he didn’t remember, and looked outside. Everything was dark, even the lights. Just as he wondered if there would be an operation tonight, he heard a loud ‘bang’ traveling a distance before screams went out to his house’s right.
“Benny!” - “Aawww, shit…” - “Watch out!” - “Defend-” - “RUUN! Fuuuuuck- ack!”
Bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang…
… With his presence lowered, Fox advanced. Any criminal holding a weapon had his brains turned into lifeless objects, smashed by the sheer firepower of his rifle. If they wielded a firearm, they should have been ready to die, not just use it for their gains.
Fox wielded a different rifle. One for mid to long distances, with a large clip and rapid fire, yet without losing neither accuracy nor firepower. It would maintain a strong and stable kinetic force until 800 meters, but it was naturally lower than the one he always used, at least during the first hundred meters.
It had a more steep, straight structure, and was longer, but it was easier to hold to one’s chest despite its heaviness and length.
Fox came out of the alley, crouching with his bum nearly grazing against the ground but moving as fast as a person walking normally. He looked a bit too fast and way too flexible, even comical. But he was killing every armed criminal while they looked up, not realizing he was at the ground level with them.
“AAAAAAAAHG….!” The bandits ran after the initial several seconds trying to find him. Before the man in charge could act to stop them, he was also caught when he was planning to flee in an armored car. Killed with 3 shots on his back before he could enter his car.
At first, the cops and NG looked at each other, alarmed and taking defensive cover. But after the NG received a communication, they looked at each other again, only this time it was with a comical hint.
They peeked a little but could only see a diminutive flash bang away near them, with screams on the other side, and then, a darkened figure rushed away in silence. It was so silent that it made them think they were losing their minds and were seeing things at first. But then, they remembered.
‘Special Agents’.
Without further ado, they entered their vehicles and began the raid. Farther away, hidden without armored vehicles, the army waited, spread in a wider area where civilians were evacuated during nighttime since 8 PM.
If it wasn’t Lýmoca, the birthplace of the Green Transformation and the Humane Key, it would have been easy to believe this was the start of another war… Although it might very well be.
…