Note: Hello, everyone. We're back again with another update. Originally, this was supposed to be the first half of a much longer chapter, but we thought the two would work better as separate entities and we really wanted to get something out because we haven't updated in a few days, so we're releasing a new chapter now. We also did some minor rewrites to the upcoming arc because we weren't happy with our progress on it, so let us know what you think of it. Again, thank you to everyone who has been reading and has been invested in what comes next, and thank you especially to the people who've allowed us to reach over 200 reviews, which has been unbelievably helpful in writing something you guys will enjoy. We are literally in the middle of writing the next chapter as we upload this, so if you have any feedback, the sooner the better, because we're on a time limit, yo. Seriously though, thanks and enjoy.
Yang never expected it would be so easy to sneak into the warehousing district. The City of Vale was one of the largest importers of goods in the world, and there were more than a handful of powerful individuals who would go to incredible lengths to make sure their property was held safely. Even in the slummier districts of the city, she expected to find heavy security, if not from the Droogs that she was hoping to track down, then from any of the hundred corporations that kept their property sorted nearby. It was the reason why she parked Bumblebee so far away and had to proceed on foot, lest she be heard and discovered. Of course, she was expecting to be discovered regardless; she was a brawler, and she would have sooner knocked on the front door of the warehouse than try to stealth her way around.
But that was why she had Blake with her. Yang would fully admit that she never truly understood how Blake was able to disappear as easily as she did. In all of the times Blake had vanished on her—during practice, late at night, when they went off to study—she never really saw or studied how she went about moving the way she did. That night, however, was an exception. Blake couldn't afford to let Yang fall behind and go off on her own, and so she slowed her pace down just enough so her dragon of a teammate could keep up with her. As such, Yang got to witness Blake's capabilities firsthand, and like everything the shadow did, Yang soon found herself enraptured by it. It wasn't simply her athleticism, her natural ability to scale to buildings in the blink of an eye, the distance in her jumps as she leaped between rooftops, the way she pressed herself against the walls and melted into their textures. It was that she made it all look so easy. She could twist and turn herself in the air without exerting the slightest bit of effort. Her perception was immaculate. She could pick up the location of a guard twenty meters away and around the bend that Yang would have simply barreled into, and no matter what she did, she was always in complete control. Control of her body. Control of her surroundings. Calm. Collected. Never breaking a sweat. Yang was beyond fortunate to have Blake on her team, and though she knew she could be a burden, she hoped that Blake enjoyed having her as well.
Blake cut her way through a skylight on top of Warehouse 301, and the two Huntresses dropped silently onto the fluorescent light fixture overhanging the crummy warehouse floor. They stared down the fifteen-foot drop, checking for whatever dangers or traps awaited them. Sun's advice was right on the money. Directly beneath them were six men sat around a poker table, dressed in white button-down shirts and black slacks, staring emptily at the cards in their hands, sweating away in the stuffiness of the warehouse. They set themselves up in the midst of hazard-labeled crates, stacked on top of each other in three rows of five lining both walls of the interior. They had set themselves close to the back, away from the massive sliding door at the entrance, and behind them lied a massive industrial fan closely attached to a generator, both turned off despite the heat. Yang rolled her eyes at the picture in her mind. The fools had likely turned on the fan only to watch as their cards and chips were blown across the room, and they were so desperate to pass the time that they would rather sit and suffer than stop gambling for even a moment. She wondered how long their boss had kept them in that prison, periodically delivering them food and water so they wouldn't have to go outside. She wondered how much longer they would be kept there, how long before it was determined by a force beyond their control that the threat to them was extinguished. Or at least, what the boss thought the threat to them would be.
Yang recognized three of the boys. She had to, considering how desperate the three of them were to get into her pants not even a month ago. She had no idea which one was their ringleader, though. Neither she or Blake ever encountered the bastard, probably for his own good. It was not as if it really mattered; by the end of it, they would all be on the floor, but she did wish she knew Jayah's face, just so she could have the extra satisfaction of breaking it. He was the one who schemed to destroy Zelina's house. He stole her book from her, destroyed her possessions one after the other. That sweet woman was forced to suffer because of him, and Yang was going to make him pay. She was going to make that Faunus proud if it was the last thing she did. First things first, they needed a plan, and like always, Blake was two steps ahead of her. Keeping their silence, Blake motioned down to the generator and then held up her grappling hook for Yang to see. A few beats later, Yang understood. There were still guards swarming the outside of the facility, and while the Droogs were deep inside, the warehouse wasn't large enough that any commotion would go unnoticed. A loud enough noise, however, one that the guards were already familiar with, could do wonders. With a nod, Yang repositioned her footing, hovering over her targets as a hand of cards was slapped down on the table beneath her.
"Royal flush!" a Droog wildly declared, reaching over and grabbing onto the pile of chips accumulated in the center of the table. Another Droog immediately snatched his arm.
"Are you blind?" he asked incredulously. "There's no seven in a royal flush, you bowlhead!"
"Okay, fine, not a royal flush," he protested, "but I still win. I got the Ace, King, Queen, and Jack all lined up, see?"
"So, what? That doesn't mean anything?"
"Yes, it does!"
"Four in a row ain't a real poker hand, bowlhead," the Droog said, slapping the other firmly on the arm. "They have to all be matching numbers for you to get a four of a kind. Your hand is worth shit."
"Better than your hand!"
"No, I got a pair of fives," stated the Droog. "God, I wish something would smack you in the head to make you sound less stupid."
Yang grinned at Blake. Ready or not, that sentence was the best cue she was ever going to receive, and she knew she couldn't miss out on such an obvious opportunity. Blake only managed to react a split-second before she did, and as Yang stepped off the light fixture and plummeted to the earth, Blake quickly tossed out her grappling hook to the generator below. Her weapon struck the generator perfectly, and the old machine suddenly came to life with a roar, and with it, so too did the fan. The Droogs recoiled as their cards and chips flew violently off the table, and Yang saw an opening, landing crouched on the now empty table with a bold smile, her hair whipping in the wind.
"Hey, boys," she smirked. "Miss me?"
In hindsight, it was never fair to assume it would be a fair fight. From the instant she landed, Yang realized she had them outmatched. The poor saps had never even bothered to bring their weapons, thinking themselves safe surrounded by guards in a city far from home. She used a blast from her gauntlet to propel her fist back, and when her armored hand crashed into the head of a helpless, unsuspecting Droog, still unable to understand the rules of poker, let alone the situation he found himself in, she felt not just a rush of satisfaction, but also of relief. They were, after all, breaking the law fighting forces far stronger than them. It shouldn't be so easy. And yet, when the Droog was sent flying into the crates lining the wall, his teeth spilling out of his mouth from the force of her punch, she remembered just how strong she actually was. They may have been slimy, despicable people preying on the weak, but they weren't strong.
When Blake swung down from the ceiling after her, bashing the other argumentative Droog in the back of the head with the blunt side of her sheath, the odds only increased in their favor. Yang jumped off the table, landing by Blake's side, and she smiled wickedly as she looked at the easy fight she had before her. Her friend was stoic, but Yang knew that deep down, she felt the same confidence and energy, the same hunger that she did. Two Huntresses against a handful of weak, Auraless criminals, too scared and startled to even properly gather themselves in preparation for a fight. She and Blake weren't just strong, they were invincible, and she loved it. The Droogs screamed, but their voices were mostly muffled by the fan, and even as one bolted for the door, Blake acted effortlessly and shot out his legs before he could reach, causing him to collapse in agony. Her moves were so swift Yang hadn't even seen it coming. Calm and collected, like always. One of the Droogs pushed the remaining two in front of him as a shield. Jayah: Yang could tell it was him simply from the act of cowardice. He would be dealt with last. He would be dealt with personally.
They each took one. Yang shot forward, taking her goon by surprise. She threw an uppercut, and it collided into his chest, knocking the air from his lungs. She didn't hear his ribs break, but she felt them. She felt her fist connect once, and then shift forward deeper into his skin. She felt his bones shift out of the way of her punch. She felt the impact travel through his muscles and reverberate back up through her arm, mingling with her senses. She felt his weight fall onto her as his legs gave out, and she felt how easy it was to shrug him off, sliding his useless meat off her fist onto the floor, on the ground where it belonged. It was the single most satisfying punch she had ever thrown in her life. More satisfying than punching Cardin. More satisfying than punching a Grimm. For that one punch, she didn't just hit someone, she changed them, knocked the evil out of their Souls, crippled their ability to harm others, controlled their very future. That punch maintained her dominion over him, showed him how strong she was, how weak he was compared to her, and the best part was that she could do it over and over again.
Blake disposed of her Droog just as simply, leaving him lying on the floor with his arm broken in three places. All that was left was Jayah, and soon, the leader of the gang members realized it when they did. He had nowhere left to run, and his partners were either unconscious or groaning in agony beneath the heavy hum of the fan. He reached for his back pocket in a panic, pulling out a switchblade, but before he could even have a chance to swing it, Yang grabbed onto his wrist, clenching it tightly. Jayah opened his mouth to scream, but he was so incredibly pathetic that no sound came out. All he could do was watch as the girl with blonde and a sadistic smile squeezed tighter on his wrist, crushing it effortlessly.
"Is this really the best you can do?" Yang taunted him. She pulled sharply on his wrist, throwing him to the ground. "A fucking switchblade? Were you not paying attention?"
"Hey, hey, don't hurt me!" Jayah protested, crawling on his back towards the entrance of the room.
"Don't hurt me?" Yang asked, disgusted. "Is that what Zelina said when you destroyed her house? Remember her? Zelina Zaripova? Did you really think that no one would ever find out about what you did to her?"
"What, the Faunus? This is about the Faunus?" Jayah asked, stunned. "Look, we were hired to do a job, lady? N-nothing personal?"
"Don't you fucking lie to me!" Yang shouted, grabbing onto his ankle and dragging him back into the center of the room. "You were hired to steal a book, not destroy her home. Do you know how hard that woman is going to have to work to rebuild her life? She has nothing. No family. No friends. Do you think that's fair?"
She released her grip, and the Droog leader tried scrambling to his feet, only for Yang to kick him back down. Blake was watching her from a distance, saying nothing. Or at least, Yang heard her say nothing. With the fan, and the cries, and her heart pounding in her ears, it was hard to hear much of anything, except for her instinct to keep pushing forward, to make Jayah pay.
"Look, I'm… I'm sorry, okay?" he stammered, holding out his hands in front of his as a weak defense. "I'll do anything you want, just don't hurt me?"
"Are you serious?" questioned Yang. "You throw your friends into the line of fire so they can take the punishment for you, you openly lie to my face about what you did in Brooksbarrow, and now you're trying to weasel your way out getting what you deserve?"
"Please…. mercy, please…" The Droog begged. Yang disregarded those statements, and casually reached down, grabbing onto his other wrist and holding it up in the air. He watched her helplessly his terrified eyes connecting to her violent gaze.
"I don't think so. The last time we gave you mercy, you went right back to hurting people the very next day," Yang explained simply, bending back his wrist as far it could go as he whimpered in pain. "I can snap your arm off right now if I wanted to. I wouldn't even have to try. Give me one good reason why I shouldn't?"
"I… I promise I won't do it again," he begged, tears starting to well in his eyes. Yang could not tell if they were real or forced, and truthfully, it did not matter to her. He did not regret what he did to Zelina. He didn't regret anything. He was just too afraid to take responsibility. A revolting, dishonest thing.
"What do you think, Blake?" Yang asked, twisting his wrist further out of shape. "What do you think the punishment should be for our friend, Jayah?"
Blake stepped forward, having casually watched Yang turn and wrench the poor Droog's wrist for long enough. She knelt beside the Droog's arm, her face cold. From the look in her eye, Yang could tell the girl had done this before. Though she lacked the context, she was willing to let experience take over.
"How old are you?" Blake asked carefully.
"I'm… I'm twenty-one," he stuttered.
"So, you're more than old enough to understand what you did was wrong, aren't you?" Blake stated bluntly. "Why did you destroy Miss Zaripova's home?"
"S-she hired you all to attack us," Jayah admitted. "You broke into our home, we break into hers. Payback is payback, right? That's what you're doing now. That's all fair. We got nothing against the woman, nothing against all Faunus! Everyone who knows Droogs knows that Droogs don't do that kind of thing."
Yang sneered. "Blake, are you believing any of this?"
"I don't know," Blake shrugged. "It's so hard to tell with these people."
"Then let's try a different method," Yang said, dropping Jayah's wrist. Without warning—and without Blake's prior approval—she grabbed onto Jayah by his collar, hoisting him off the ground effortlessly, and she marched to the back of the room to where the generator roared loudly, and the large, industrial fan spun powerfully. Whoever had designed the fan was careless, as they never bothered to install a metal grating between the blades and the open air. Perhaps it was laziness that guided them, or perhaps it was fate, because it was that fundamental flaw in design that called Yang to the fan and encouraged her to shove Jayah's head almost directly inside of it. He screamed loudly as his scalp was placed inches from the rapidly spinning blades, but his cries were still muffled to outsiders, and Yang refused to let go.
"Stop it! Stop it!" Jayah shouted desperately.
"Is this a more convincing argument?" Yang said furiously. "Maybe I should throw you right in and watch you get cut into a hundred tiny little pieces? Would that be more fun?"
"No! Please, don't kill me! Don't kill me!"
"Why not?" Yang asked again, inching his head ever closer to the fan. "All you've ever done with your life is hurt people. If I let you go now, you'll go right back to hurting people tomorrow without a second thought. What's so redeeming about your life that it should be worth saving?"
"I won't ever hurt anyone again!" Jayah shouted. "I'll quit the Droogs! I'll live an honest life! I promise I promise, I promise! Please! I promise I'll be good! Just don't hurt me anymore!"
And somewhere in those words, Yang heard something she hadn't heard all night. In every other word that Jayah had spoken, she heard an underlying layer of contempt and bitterness and deceit. And yet, at that moment, when he was so powerless that he could no longer move his arms, and the tears were running down his face, and his head was seconds away from being torn to pieces, she heard honesty within his voice. True, actual, unmistakable honesty. Blake had heard it as well, and despite their better instincts, they did very much believe him. Yang truly believed that he would repent. He would abandon the life of a criminal in a heartbeat, and reform to become a better man. He would seek forgiveness for his crimes, perhaps get an education, an honest job, a good wife, and live a happy, normal life outside of his horrid past. It wasn't just a possibility; from all Yang could tell, it was almost a certain outcome if she let him go.
And that infuriated her. Why did he deserve to go and live a happy life? He had committed countless crimes throughout his wretched existence, and all of a sudden, she was supposed to let him try again because he said he was sorry a few times? That rat, that snake, that vermin piece of shit was supposed to get a second chance, but Zelina and thousands of others like her couldn't? He didn't deserve any of that. He didn't deserve mercy. He hadn't earned it. If anything, he was more pathetic. She had gone into that night expecting a challenge, not just a physical challenge against her strength and agility, but a challenge of her will. She expected the Droogs to fight not just to defend themselves, but their ideology. She expected Jayah to defend his actions wholly, to be stern and set into his ways, so that when she knocked him down a peg, it would actually mean something. Instead, what she got was two minutes of beating up a bunch of defenseless teenagers who refused to stand up for their own actions, who couldn't pour water out of a boot if the instructions were written on the heel.
All she had to do was move her hands forward, and that would be it. One more weak, spineless, undeserving life scrubbed from the world. It would have made Vale cleaner. It would have made all of Remnant cleaner. Safer. Stronger. The lot of them deserved to go as well, not just the rest of the bastards in the warehouse, but all of the Droogs, each and every one of the worthless bastards. She wanted them all dead, and why would she have to wait? She and Blake tore through the warehouse like it was nothing. They could destroy the organization over the weekend, break the system down one member at a time until there was nothing left but the putrid, rotten core, and then she would squash that too with the biggest smile on her face. She could start the process there, just by taking the worm caught in her fingers and pushing him forward.
She would love it.
"Yang, I think you've made the point."
Blake placed a hand on Yang's shoulder, and suddenly, she remembered where she was, and what she was doing. She heard Jayah's cries.
"Come on. Drop him," Blake instructed. Yang looked carefully at the life that was in her hands, and with a sigh, she backed away from the fan and threw Jayah against the crates on the side wall. He whimpered in pain, slumping over to his side as she shuddered in terror. She looked around at the mess she and Blake had made, and her breathing steadied. The six Droogs that had harmed Zelina were broken down, scattered across the warehouse. They would not be bothering anyone again for a very long time. Some of them would likely never hurt anyone else again because they now knew the punishment that was in store for them if they stepped out of line. She looked at Blake next to her, expecting her friend's expression to still be empty, but it wasn't. There was relief in their mission being over, but also the smallest, almost indistinguishable hint of concern towards something Yang was unsure of. It didn't matter to her though. Their mission was accomplished.
"You ready to go?" asked Blake cautiously.
"Yeah," Yang said, responding with more unsureness of her own. "Might as well."
"Good. Also, you can turn off your Semblance now."
Yang didn't understand the comment at all. She hadn't used her Semblance once the entire night. She did not need it.
Then, Yang blinked.
"There. That's... better. You were freaking me out," Blake said gladly.
Yang thought the comment was unprompted. She did not realize that by blinking, her eyes only just became their normal color of lilac. She did not realize that her eyes had been blood red since she entered the warehouse.