The Vigilante.
He's a person that goes out there, always looking around to catch those who he sees are being unlawful or, if you want to get more informal, plain old pricks.
He is someone that takes the law into his own hands. A legend whispered of by the crowds.
In a world like Remnant, that can be anyone. A person that has an unlocked aura but doesn't want to deal with going to a Hunter Academy. A Hunter that decided he or she doesn't like how the upper echelon are handling things. Etcetera, etcetera, etcetera…
But me… I'm a somewhat special case.
I am out for revenge. I want to find those that have taken most of my family from me. If I come across someone in trouble, I don't save them because I truly care about the victim.
No, I save them because I despise those that hurt others for their sick pleasures.
Standing on a rooftop overlooking Vale, I check out the area. This place, being one of the more laid back cities, is a breeding ground for robbers, gang-bangers, and murderers.
And almost always, I'm there to stop them.
A slight nudge of my thoughts indicates that something is amiss. Shifting my focus from a guy talking through his scroll with his very angry girlfriend, I check out what alerted my aura.
"A possible crime? Alright then…"
Looking around discreetly, I jog down the stairs to the street and head over to my parked car. Thanks to a contact of mine, I'm able to speed-order used vehicles, this one being no exception. They're old models, sure, but they still have their kick.
I quickly get in and turn it on, shutting off the radio with barely a thought.
"Whoever this guy or chick is will be sorry to have landed on my radar."
…
Everything is connected.
The Cross-Continental Transmit System, known as the CCT, is a network relay made up of four major towers, each one resting in one of the major countries around Remnant: Vale, Vacuo, Mistral, and Atlas (who created the system in the first place).
To many, it's a godsend, allowing people to communicate within kingdoms using personal scrolls, and over long distances using certain areas close to the towers, known as CCT Centers.
But me and a few others… We know what it really is.
The CCT is an invasive entity, one that scans everything and anything that is connected around it and relays it back to a server that stores the information.
And that part wasn't accidental.
However, being such a big system, it's got several glaring weaknesses. And one of those is one that I, thanks to my aura and knowledge, take advantage of.
Hacking, backdoors, system control… these things can be used against it. And that's exactly what I do.
I am Jaune Arc, an excellent hacker, if I do say so myself.
I am… the Vigilante.
…
I approach the area where the crime should be happening with caution. I need to make sure I'm not going into this half-assed, but then again, I've done this many times before. No two crimes are alike, unfortunately. Like fingerprints, there are certain differences that can pinpoint to a victim and their attacker.
This one is on an apartment block. There are two apartment buildings covering nearly the entire middle of the block, and what's left on the sides and in between is filled in with a few stores and one restaurant.
Now I need to find either the attacker or victim. One always leads to the other.
Parking the car, I get out and activate my Semblance discreetly, a part easier than thinking at this point. Looking up, I check my reflection in the mirror and see that my eyes are slightly glowing green like usual. That's a small downside to my Semblance, which makes it hard to be unnoticeable at times, especially when I'm dealing with or near experienced Hunters. Those guys notice damn near everything about their surroundings.
But thanks to them, my experience increased exponentially.
As I walk down the street, I pull my cap lower over my face. Every time I focus on the area near a person, my aura automatically connects to the CCT's facial recognition software and scans it in milliseconds, bringing up their name, job, sometimes their annual income, and even a little tidbit into their life.
Jay Baskin, 24, cashier at a coffee shop. Likes to collect rare figurines.
Metia Stills, 40, real estate manager. Likes BDSM porn.
Arceus Cinque, 65, retired. Spends his time at home looking up "Vigilante" online.
These are the details that I, and anyone who can hack into the CCT, have access to. The less that is said about the actual creators and maintainers of the system, the better.
I blink to get myself back into focus and look around. I don't see the telltale yellow sign of a potential criminal or victim.
"Gotta be somewhere around here…"
The sound of a crash immediately draws my attention to the store I'm standing in front of, a convenience store. The old man at the register is being held at gunpoint by a guy whose face looks insane.
"I said give me the damn cash!"
"Please, don't hurt me…!"
"You're wasting my time, old man!"
Noticing the bastard's trigger finger itch, I quickly pull up the silver mask that's part of my jacket over the bottom of my face and pull out my own gun that's hanging on my belt, snapping it forward. I activate a part of my Semblance's skill, the "Focus" ability as I named it, and watch as my perception of time slows down to a crawl. My muscles react and I snap off three rounds in quick succession: one to the guy's left knee, one to his shoulder, and a final one to the hand holding the gun.
The bullets hit simultaneously, making the guy jolt in a weird way and let out a yell of pain. Ignoring the civilians cowering at the gunshots, I run inside and pull out my other weapon: a collapsible staff that I leave in its collapse state, slamming it into the guy's face with enough force to knock him out.
The old man at the counter stares ahead with confusion then finally focuses on me and smiles. "Oh, thank you! You… you're the Vigilante, aren't you?"
"Call the cops, sir. They can deal with him."
Now that I have to speak up, I realize that my voice is low and gravelly from lack of use.
Actually, that's a pretty good thing. Sounds more threatening.
Without further ado, I head outside and to the crowd of civilians that's hanging around the area. They immediately start to gossip when they catch sight of me, and a few pull out their scrolls to take pictures. However, one near the back pulls out her scroll for something completely different.
"CCT Server, what's your emergency?"
"There's gunshots around! You need to send someone over, quick!"
I hear the conversation dully in the back of my head, my inner connection to the CCT always in effect. I quickly head over to my car and jump inside, accelerating out of there before the call is finished.
No reason to have the cops on my ass.
…
When I reach the motel room that I'm staying at, I sigh as I close the door. The CCT scan had almost caught me.
I sit on my bed for a moment, thinking things through. As always, my aura once again kicks up and I feel my thoughts organize themselves into a computer-like fashion.
My Semblance… The Hacker's Tool, as I call it.
Yeah, yeah, bit of a stupid name. Suck it up, I'm not much for originality.
Ever since I was a child, I had been obsessed with computers and their connections. Hardware, software, it didn't matter. Once I hit eleven years old, I made it my mission to learn all I could about it.
My parents, being retired Hunters, saw it as a neat little hobby and helped me out with getting me equipment and sometimes teachers. My dad himself was a damn good hacker, and I wanted to follow in his footsteps. I wanted him to teach me all he knew, and though mom didn't approve of it at first, dad was happy with teaching me.
But unfortunately, such a life didn't come without its drawbacks, and with my dad, they were big.
When he was younger, dad had gone on a little heist with a friend, taking money from the rich in one of the more wealthy parts of Vale and donating it to several impoverished places of our hometown.
It seems like in one of his trips, though, he stumbled onto something he shouldn't have.
I hadn't even been at home at the time the fixers attacked. Whoever was paying these thugs-for-hire must have had deep pockets, because a ton of them had shown up at my family's house and blown it to kingdom come, using explosives that, to this day, I still couldn't trace. There was no way anything with normal firepower would be able to make so much damage.
But it did, and because of it, my father, mother, and five of my sisters died.
When I arrived at home, all I found was a crater where my home used to be, and a gathered crowd that had no idea what had happened.
From that day on, I wasn't the same. I had no idea who had destroyed my family, but I knew that I wasn't going to let them get away with this.
And I knew just how to do it.
My dad, being pretty secure with his things, had made sure his main hacking center was away from home. Knowing where it was, I decided to continue on and teach myself what my dad couldn't.
And with that, my Semblance developed.
The Hacker's Tool, a Semblance that allowed me to connect to the internet and CCT through my aura, literally turning me into the perfect hacking tool. I'd unlocked it when I had been chasing after a thug that had tried to rob some lady when I was nearby. I chased after him, and the guy tried to pull a pistol on me. That's when, in a moment of desperation, my aura unlocked, and the first of my skills appeared: the Focus skill.
Time slowed as the guy was about to fire at me, and with my quickened perception, I twisted around his aim and slammed my hand against his wrist, sending the butt of his gun into his own face.
From that day on, I started learning more about my Semblance. And with it, I became the man who would go around taking down those that would hurt others.
I became the Vigilante.
...
I get up from my bed and head to a nearby computer. It's connected to several hard drives, but some are just for show. Most of the information I need, I store directly in me.
No, I need this for something else.
Typing a few codes in, I bring up the feed of a camera inside a room of the long-term stay area of Vale's hospital. In that bed is one of my two remaining parts of my family.
Jeannette Arc, my one year older sister.
She looks to be sleeping soundly, at least. That's the best I can hope for someone who nearly died in the attack.
I watch her for a minute, the static sound of her breathing calming my nerves further. The explosion had damaged part of her lungs, but just a year ago, the doctors were able to help her by giving her an artificial one. Her wheezy breathing always fills me with equal parts relief and anger: relief at her being alive, and anger at those that hurt her and my family.
I sigh, wondering if I should turn in for the night, when a beeping from my laptop takes my attention. Looking at it, I can see a warning of some kind on it.
After I connect to it, I realize why, and waste no time in grabbing my jacket and face mask.
...
Profile target found: Milo Roberts. Target matches suspected arsonist of Arc Family Case.
...
"Found you, you bastard," I growl as I race down the roads of Vale.
My destination?
The Vale Coliseum, where a tournament is being held. The cameras of the bottom areas had caught and processed Milo's profile.
...
Just mere minutes later, underneath the Vale Coliseum, a guy in a black hoodie is seen skulking around. As he passes a T hallway leading to the lockers, he chokes when his airway is blocked off. The last thing he feels before unconsciousness takes him is a metal object impacting his head.
I hold my breath as I drag the guy away from sight. He was the last of the ones guarding the door where the asshole that lit the fuse of the attack that took my family is hiding out in.
He knows I'm after him.
So I'm not going to disappoint him.
I stay by the door, waiting until the guy comes around. I know he's going to be unnerved by the silence. I just need to wait him out.
Not a moment later, Milo comes out. His brown hair sticks out a little, then his nondescript face follows.
It promptly gets blown right back in as I extend one end of my staff and slam it right on his temple.
Milo cries out in pain, stumbling back inside and holding his head. I stalk right after him, the sight of his face filling me with rage.
Milo tries to retaliate by pulling out a handgun, but his moves are way too telegraphed. I extend the other end of my staff and spin it, knocking the gun out of his hand. A quick scan of him with the CCT tells me his aura is just at the yellow area.
"Man, you're weak," I snark at him, pulling out my handgun. He tries to dodge, but with Focus, I easily shoot him on his kneecap. The shot is stopped by his aura, but that shot finishes up what he had left, and with a quick twist of my staff against his torso, I see the telltale flash of a brown color spiral out from the point of the strike I made.
My next strike right over his eye is completely undeflected.
Milo cries out as his left temple and eye are bashed in. He falls back on his ass, holding his hands over his left eye as blood spurts out. I approach him coldly, keeping a tight hold on my weapons.
"So we finally meet, face to face."
"What the fuck?! Who the fuck are you?!" Milo yells out.
"You know damn well who I am," I growl, approaching him. "Now, I want names."
"W-What?!"
I answer with a punch to his body. "I said, I want names. Now!"
"I don't know what the fuck you're talking about!"
"Don't you?"
I holster my pistol and hold my left hand out, focusing my aura. A small ball of light appears and, once Milo focuses his frantic, still working eye on it, I mentally "press play".
Truth is, the ball in my hand is my electrically-attuned aura superheating the air around it, creating plasma in the shape of a ball, then vibrating the air in certain ways to create sound.
Sound that played out a recording of a conversation between Milo and whoever had hired him to attack my family.
"Milo, you have a target. His name is John Arc. Take as many men as you need and take him out. Hit the family if you can. "
"Hit the family?"
"That a problem?"
"Nope. I'll get him. You'll never hear from him again."
"Well, don't you worry, Milo. You got him," I growl, kneeling in front of him. "You want to know who else you got? Elena Arc, my mother. Jean and Blanc Arc, twins, nineteen. Trice Arc, fifteen. Callisto Arc, ten. And Shine Arc, a five year old girl."
I don't give Milo a chance to relax, grabbing him by the throat and cutting off his air. He chokes pitifully, grabbing at my hand, but like I mentioned earlier, he's a weakling.
"Are you satisfied then, Milo? Just another job done, huh?"
The man fails to respond, mainly due to the fact that I'm still choking him.
"Well, you failed to account for survivors. And you can guess that I'm not too happy with your scrawny ass right now. So, unless you want this staff to be shoved up where the sun doesn't shine, you better give me something I can work with."
I toss him back, making him hit his head against the wall. He starts gasping for air as soon as he can, then turns back to me wildly.
"I didn't know, man! I didn't know of any kids and shit! You gotta believe me!"
"Really?" I ask rhetorically, my anger simmering just underneath. "On the day where most of the family was together, you didn't account for anyone other than the target? You're bullshitting me."
"It's true!" Milo yells desperately. "You gotta walk away from this man! These guys... They're beyond anything you know... They'll bury you!"
"Yeah, well, sometimes you can't walk away. Now I'm only going to ask you one more time before I resort to the staff again." I collapse said weapon and aim it at his face. "Give me a name. Now!"
"Fuck, fuck, just kill me man!"
Narrowing my eyes at the coward, I force him to look at me and extend the staff immediately. He cries out in fear, but the staff stops just an inch away from his nose.
"Is your memory feeling better?" I ask derisively, standing up.
Apparently not done, I hear Milo shuffle about and grab something, then try and rush me. Spinning around, I extend my staff and smack his approaching hand, sending the wooden board in it flying, then spin the staff and slam it into his face, finally knocking him out.
"Dumbass," I mutter as I collapse the staff. I look around the room, not even sure what I was making sure of, then look back at Milo, noticing his scroll had fallen out of his pocket when I knocked him out.
"Well, he won't tell me anything, but he has to have talked to someone," I mutter, gazing at the scroll. Activating my semblance, I connect to it and hack it, bringing up any relevant conversations.
An audio log pops up, playing in my head.
"I can't stand this... I can't keep running... Fuck, why me?! I killed that damn John Arc, but now his kid is after me! He just won't quit! As if I didn't have enough to deal with... I can't stop seeing her face... Her little blue eyes... Fuck, fuck, fuck!"
I frown as I look back at the unconscious Milo. "Good. He understands it, at least. That doesn't exactly help me securing names, though."
I turn around and head back outside. My... 'associate' should be able to help get him somewhere.
Speaking of, where is she?
As I walk out, I take a look at all the dead bodies around me. Gang members, robbers, and murderers, like I said earlier.
"Hey, Milo, where you at?"
I raise an eyebrow as I watch some guy in a black suit and a fedora stroll around the corner and stop dead when he sees me standing amongst the corpses. He immediately pulls out a pistol.
"Who the fuck are you?!"
I hold my hands up, now noticing a familiar color moving up behind the guy. "You're late, you know."
"What?"
"Not you, buddy."
The guy is prevented from saying any more as a thin sword suddenly pierces through his sternum, making him gasp in pain. The sword retracts, and the guy's eyes roll up as he falls over, leaving the assailant in full view.
"Well, you could say I'm fashionably late."
"Yeah, fashionably," I say sarcastically.
"Was that sarcasm?"
"No, what could possibly give you that idea, Neo?"
The short, tricolor-haired young woman leans on her parasol, giving me a shrewd look. Short as she is, she's a menace, quick with her sword and sometimes quicker with her wit.
Funny thing is, she's mute. Whether voluntary or not, I haven't heard her say a single word in the month and a half we've been working together. Instead, she says she prefers to communicate with her actions, but with me, she found an exception. When she found out I could connect to her scroll via my semblance, she decided to simply write what she wanted to say and leave me to intercept the messages. It was a simple way of communication for me, but it was always hilarious because I sometimes read the messages in a squeaky voice, imagining that's what this shorty sounds like.
"So, what have we got here?"
"The guy who lit the fuse that took my family is back there," I respond, nodding back to the locker room. "I need him out of here and stashed."
"I can handle that."
"I need him alive, Neo," I specify. "I'm not through with him yet. The bastard hasn't given me anything I can work with."
Neo raised an eyebrow condescendingly. "Really, Jaune?"
"Hey, don't look at me. He's way too spooked right now. I know an abandoned warehouse at the docks you can use, I'll send you the coordinates. Some time in solitary will help out. He'll start to reach out."
Neo shrugs and saunters away, her hips swaying as she sends me one last message.
"Hey, you're the one paying me. Whatever you say."
Yeah, Neo is what those in this field call a fixer. You could say she's a thug for hire, doing jobs for lien. Especially murder jobs, it seemed. That girl had an unhealthy obsession with it, treating it almost like a game. Something told me that being a fixer is a secondary thing to her, though.
I decide to leave that for later and begin to walk away. The cops will find the gang members later, and I can trust in Neo to get Milo out of here.
And my night's surprises won't end here.
...