Hey readers!

So very very very very sorry for not updating Monday! I have been so busy these past few days that it just slipped past me, and I was stuck on several occasions!

To be honest I'm not to sure about this chapter either.

But anyway I hope you enjoy!


Adrien looked down at the black mask, its shaped outline standing out boldly against the white silken lining of the box, waiting for him.

"Keep a look out" the young man ordered. It would be messy for some random person to peak in the car and find Adrien Agrest changing. "and make sure that no one but the owner is inside"

The gorilla grunted his response, exiting the drivers seat and leaving him in the with now only plagg now to keep him company.

He reached into the container, his fingers gripping the edges of the mask, feeling the fine worn leather beneath his skin.

Images of what he could always do upon donning it playing through his brain again, but also the exhilaration, the change, the freedom of becoming someone else for a time.

Of becoming Chat Noir, son of Hawkmoth, murderer, thief, con artist. Feared by everyone and respected by his men.

Taking the mask and two smaller pieces of triangular cut cloth beneath it from the box and discarding the container back to his vest pocket, he turned the mask itself over in his hands in the same direction of his face. Closing his eyes as he placed it around them, the fabric hugging his temples snuggly as an internal elastic band held it in place by firmly pinching the bridge of his nose.

Then, taking the two pieces of cloth, he pinned them into his hair perfectly in place thanks to multiple times of practice. After all, what was a cat without ears?

Once he was done he let his eyes open, adjusting his mask ever so slightly so that it wouldn't irritate or shift about any.

Now he was chat. Feared gangster and crime boss, and as far as the public was concerned; barely acquainted with Adrien and his corporate empire.

A cheshire grin cast itself across his face, "well…" he began, extending his arm out to plagg who jumped unto it and climbed to his shoulder, "lets get this done, shall we?"

Opening the car door and stepping out onto the curb, the young criminal briskly made his way in long elegant strides to the entrance of the small shop, seemingly going unnoticed by the people moving around him.

They did see him though, it just didn't matter that they did, anyone with even the tiniest sense of self-preservation or common sense knew not to openly point him out else endanger their own lives. Nor bother to call the police, since he would be gone before they arrived, or pay off the dirty ones.

The gorilla was on guard by the door as he had been told, a deep purple butterfly masked hood now draped over his head so that he could hide his identity as well. Something that was commonly worn by all AKUMA members -exemption of him obviously-, so that they couldn't be identified on jobs, or during the occasional scruff with the law or others.

"Its just the old man inside sir, seems that he just opened." The gorilla said, motioning with his head, opining and holding the shop door for him

"Thank you, do stay here unless I call for you" he told the man as he passed him, entering unto the establishment and letting the door swing gently closed behind him. It was then when he was able to get a good fair look at the interior, nodding his head slightly in appreciation with a resting smirk on his lips as he studied the enclosure. Shelves lining the classic wooden walls held a very comfortable assortment of supplies from small items from like needles and colorful spools of thread to many different patterned rolls of fabric hanging on racks in the center of the store.

'Quite the inventory' chat mused impressed by the selection presented, walking over to one of the racks and running a hand along one of the rolls. He was glad to find that it was indeed of good quality, and the price printed onto a tag was very agreeable. The owner certainly was experienced in the business if he was willing to sell them at this price and his shop was inviting as well.

Chats Noirs smirk grew, this place fit his standards near perfectly.

Suddenly, the sound of footsteps emerging from behind met his pet's ears, the creatures head darting in their direction just a scruff weathered voice sounded behind him "Good morning sir! Is there anything I ca-" .

It cut off the second that chat turned around, his smirks wide and on the verge of senile glee at the site of an elder man standing surprised and scared behind a counter at the back of the store. His scalp was near balding, with a freshly shaven wrinkled face behind a pair of wide franklin glass which two old brown eyes squinted through.

He was slightly hunched over, but his arms and legs looked to still several years of strength left in them. Yet it seemed ridiculous how an old man like this could force several of his boys out his door. It was certainly making chat curious.

"Good morning! You must be Mr. Wicker, the owner of this meowvelous little shop! I was wondering if you'd be interested in a little pawprosition?" he said punly, chuckling lightly.

However, old man wicker wasn't laughing "Chat noir!" he strangled out weakly, bending below the counter and retrieving something beneath it, coming back up with a baseball bat in his old hands.

"Get out of my shop!" he demanded, waving the weapon above him in a batting position, ready to take a swing.

Chat only smirked wider, "Now, now old timer I just want to talk to you about my proposal" he said comely.

"Like I told your boys, I don't want your damn deal! Now get the HELL out!" he shouted hostilely before swinging at chats head a loud smack sounding as wood connected with skin.

Yet the masquerading villain grinned evilly, now holding the barrel of the bat firmly in his grasp, shaking a finger of his free and "that was good, but you need to work on your swing" he joveled.

The old man pried his weapon back -or maybe the man simply let him- and took a low swing at his gut.

However, chat just hopped back, tauntingly singing "strike two!" with a laugh as wicker nearly tumbled forward from the momentum of the swing.

He managed to stay upright and was quick despite his age in an uptake of an upwards swing aimed for chats chin.

"Strike three!"

(crack)

Wicker screamed out in a weakened cry of pain as chat noir twisted his now broken arm, his bat falling to the floor harmlessly and forgotten.

The old man crumbled to his knees, clutching the forearm of the shattered appendage with his remaining hand.

Above him chat chuckled, kicking the old mans weapon away from reach, "You're out" the villain joked with a laugh, earning an upward glare from the crippled elder.


I wanted to make this a little darker, because... you know... the mob

But I suppose there's next chapter!

I probably wont be back with this story for a while though, I have a project in progress at my job and an Interview for another coming up so there's those thing going on...

But in the meantime feel free to read some of my other works and review!

DON'T FORGET TO REVIEW!

RAYTRCK OUT!