Disclaimer- I obviously don't own Black Lagoon. All rights of the characters minus my OC'S Belong to Rei Hiroe.

Chapter 1

A teenager bent over the front of a ship's railing as it pulled into the most notorious city in the world known to be were all the scum of the world lived; Roanapur and her eyes were wide with excitement as she took in the broken Buddha statue that showed there was no God in this place she was about to enter.
She looked like a fish out of water with shiny, long, and straight black hair, dark brown eyes filled with awe and joy, plump pink lips pulled up in a smile, tanned skin that glimmered in the sun, an hourglass figure that wasn't concealed in her breezy light pink sundress and matching sandals, and a white clutch with pearl jewelry.
"It's best for you to get inside now, Miss. This city isn't very… welcoming." She turned to face a man in his late forties with salt and pepper hair dressed in as formal as he could considering their circumstances. She pouted with her eyes widening and her bottom lip jutting out in an adorable way.
"Awww, I wanted to see more, but fine." She walked away from her place of viewing and retreated into her pristine white yacht that was soon to be docked into Roanapur's pier and to the young girl's mission.
"Ah, it feels good to be back." She said as her feet stepped onto the dock. She was unnaturally relaxed considering the place they were supposed to be.
"You've been here before, Miss?" The man asked and the teen sent him a blinding smile.
"Of course Takashi! I have a lot of work here, especially with that woman Balalaika. She pays a very handsome price for my… services." She winked and Takashi felt his blood run cold. It wasn't often she talked about her job, but it managed to frighten him at every mention. She didn't earn the name "Angel of Death" for nothing; she acted like an angel but had as much blood on her hands as anybody in the city and that was what terrified him.
"Anyway, I have a meeting in an hour. Let's get going." She walked off leaving her companion to rush after her. She was really good at her job and made a good profit from her job. Whatever you needed to be done whether it be government information to killing extremely powerful and influential people; she was the Ace in every criminal organization's hand.
At the age of sixteen, she was known as the world's most wanted Assassin, but it wasn't that hard to believe considering she could kill any countries leader with a snap of her fingers. It was hard to believe how young she is and how she earned such a title. She looked like an angel, but she was as dirty as they came and was closely allied with the darkest demons of hell instead of the highest angels of heaven.
The hotel was the best in Roanapur and she waltzed in like she owned the place. She went up to the receptionist and fixed her with a deadly glare before the woman flinched and turned towards her with a smile.
"I work for Balalaika. She said I was coming." The girl's voice was as sweet as any sugar but had a tone of ice and steel that made the receptionist nod frantically and scurry to get the girl as far away as possible.
The teen smiled sweetly before making her way to the elevator with a skip in her step and her companion trailed behind her with a couple of her Louis Vuitton luggage bags while the bellhop had nine more that belonged to the young lady.
Her phone rang and Balalaika's picture popped up and she answered it. She didn't expect Balalaika to call her, but it would've been rude to ignore her and not even she would dare to anger the leader of the Russian mafia here; she wasn't that arrogant and the woman was paying her for an A-Class job which she fully intended on fulfilling.
"Miss. Balalaika, what a wonderful surprise! How are you?" The young lady asked in Balalaika's native tongue. She was as much of a linguist as an Assassin.
"I heard that you got into the hotel." She said completely disregarding the teens greeting, but it didn't faze her. Balalaika was a busy woman and was never much of a talker when it came to her.
"Yes, I did. We should be there right on time. You said there was a surprise for me?"
"Yes, but you will find out when we have our meeting. I think you'll have a grand old time." The girl grinned at Balalaika's statement and giggled lightly in a melodic way.
"I have no doubt about that Miss. Balalaika. I'll talk to you later; I bid you a farewell." Balalaika offered her own farewell before the call was cut off.
The room was gorgeous despite the location. It was all decked out in white and fake gold, but it looked amazing and the quality of the bed and sheets were top notch.
"Miss. Balalaika is a very generous woman and I'm not just talking about her figure." The girl said as she jumped back onto the bed all spread out. She giggled at her own comment before she sat up and raced to the kitchen and smiled angelically seeing the fully stocked fridge.
It was hard to believe with how bubbly she acted that there was anything sinister about her, but that all it was; an act. She didn't feel anything, but it was normal to her; she learned how to act like she had feelings even though she couldn't feel anything except the cold and things that are caused by her nerves. She felt pain and burning, but she felt no happiness or sadness or depression. She didn't feel any remorse for those she had killed or those around her; she was the perfect little killing machine with no feelings whatsoever.
People would call her a sociopath and that's exactly what she was, but she was also an excellent Chameleon when it comes to imitating emotions. She could be sweet or cold even though she never truly knew how that felt; it's easy for her to fake emotions after doing so for so long and nobody could even tell she was faking every type of emotion she displayed on her face. Every emotion was a mask that she was a master of; she was a puppeteer that controlled the puppet that people wanted to see exactly at the right time.
The drive to Balalaika's was silent, but the girl made no move to talk and opted for staring out the window at all the filth and people she passed by in her monochrome black limo. Cars as nice as hers were rarely seen and people stayed out of the way when they saw it; knowing that it could only belong to the Russians or the Chinese and nobody wanted to anger either party for the price would be their life.
The girl was nowhere near defenseless with a gun strapped to her left upper thigh and a strap full of daggers on her right. People here were much worse than petty thieves except maybe the children. Not that she really cared if they robbed her, but she had a reputation to keep and she wouldn't hesitate to kill those who tried to cross her.
The two of them were ushered in and stripped of weapons before they came face to face with Miss. Balalaika or "Fry Face" as a huge scar covered up almost half of her face and parts of her neck and her cleavage that wasn't covered up by her red business suit.
She put out her cigarette as the duo entered and sat opposite of the intimidating stature of the mafia boss. She was as intimidating in person as in picture with long blonde hair with almost all of it in a ponytail, blue-gray eyes, thin rogue painted lips, a tall and curvaceous figure that was obvious in her red military uniform with a red skirt, a Soviet leaders jacket, and small black heels with matching pantyhose, but the scars are what was really intimidating. She was not afraid of a little violence and war and almost seemed to revel in killing; she was a mafia boss after all.
"Balalaika, it's nice to see you again!" The girl spoke in Russian and nodded to the woman's second in command, Boris, who gave a quick nod before seeming to turn back into an unmoving statue. The girl has held excitement though it was obvious it wasn't the right place or time for the tone of her voice. She sent the woman an over-enthusiastic smile and crossed one tan leg over the other and giving the older lady a peek at the light pink sandals the teen was wearing.
"Likewise. This job is really gonna tip the power here, so I know you'll need a little help with this. I have made a call to my good friends and they have agreed to help." The teen leaned forward slightly in intrigue at the older lady's words.
"What do you mean by 'tip the power'?" The woman smiled devilishly at the young lady's question.
"Chang is getting too big for his boots and is trying to steal my power which is something I can't allow. I think it's time to show him who the one with the real power is." A sinister grin spread on the girl's face. She knew what was just about to happen; a turf war between the Russian's and the Chinese for control over Roanapur. This was right up the girl's alley; she could hardly wait.
"Who's gonna be helping me get this ball rolling?" The teen settled back into the chair as she asked the question, now that the mission was out of the way.
"Just a friend of mine that owns a shipping company full of mercenaries; the Black Lagoon. There will be your biggest allies and my closest friends, so play nice Mina." The teen now identified as Mina nodded and she made a mental note to make a visit to their place tomorrow.