The rain was pouring down on the roof of the seedy motel, as if it was an accent to the atmosphere of the room. While the building had something that resembled power, most of the light bulbs in this room were burnt out. Despite the blood stains making a new design on the carpet, the bullet holes allowing for better ventilation in the walls, and what he was pretty sure were evidence of reproductive attempts adding a new texture the chair in the room, the man who had paid way too much for this room remained sitting on the bed. Truth be told, he couldn't care less. In his line of work, luxuries were not to be taken as they only draw attention. And this room certainly ensured no one would want to look twice at him.

It'd been over 2 months since he was contacted by his pseudo handler, known only as "Deep Throat"; which was ironic considering that the man spoke with a high pitched voice. Well, he assumed it was a man. Through the power of technology, it could have been a man, woman, or hell even a child who just wanted a laugh. All he knew is that when Deep Throat contacted him, the jobs were real and the money was always good. Which brings him to his current mission.

Deep Throat had reached out with a job originating from America, a land the man in the seedy motel room used to know all too well. From where in the US, he couldn't say. But based on what the customer was willing to pay, it had to be from a city. Maybe Los Angeles. That city was known for its crime and outright lack of morality. And only a person with no morality of any kind could have requested a job like this, given what he now knew. He had been requested to retrieve a certain criminal from the city at the end of the world. That city, as expected to anyone who knew the target, was Roanapur.

The "employer"; the man had yet to come up with a better term for the people that contracted him for work (maybe client), had explained in limited detail, that this criminal had wronged their organization, and they sought to have them stand trial for their crimes (of course, anyone who knew anything about serious criminals, would be quick to realize that it would be a trial by noose or bullets). They had stated that the target was a difficult one, and had slipped through the grips of even the best of the criminal underworld in the area, including the infamous Hotel Moscow and the Chinese Triad. The employer stressed that they were running out of options and wanted this person brought to them, which is why they had reached out in an attempt to hire the man who identified himself only as 47; resulting in his sitting in a disgusting hotel, smoking his cigarettes and drinking.

While his name was not well known in the criminal underworld (as he preferred to keep it), those who knew the level of skill present in all of 47's work, paid very well. The skill present in each job was evident to even the dullest of simpletons, which is why every job was worth no less than at least $100,000 US. This also meant that 47 had a lot of leeway in how he completed his missions. Subtly makes for effective work, and subtle is what 47 did best. Of course, after observing the target for the last 2 months, 47 was sure that this job was going to be anything but subtle, and that his "employer" was a person with a tar pit for a soul.

Looking down at the letter Deep Throat had forwarded from the employer when he first arrived in Roanapur, he reread the directions once again, taking another drag as he did.

"Bring us back the gunslinger known as Two Hands. Alive. Beyond that, do whatever you must. Call this number when you have her back in America. We will give you a drop off location"

There was a number written at the bottom of the page. It had a New York City area code. 47 butted his current cigarette, reached into his coat, removed a pack of smokes and a lighter. Removing one, he lit it and took a long drag. He sighed as he reflected on how sideways this job had gone.

After making his was to the city of Roanapur, he spent a week just wandering around the city, trying to hear anything about the one called "Two Hands". While asking the city folk might have been faster, it possibly could have drawn suspicion, something 47 didn't want, at least not yet. And it was a good thing he hadn't asked anyone about the gunslinger. From what he had gathered, the woman he was sent to retrieve was a hot headed one, skilled in dual wielding a pair of custom Beretta 92's which she had engraved with Cutlass plus the logo of the pirate Jack Rackham, and was known to shoot anyone for any reason if she had a bad day. Her name was synonymous with death, and she was rumored to be the best gun in the country. He had hoped to find the legendary gunwoman quickly and remove her before his prescience aroused anyone. But unfortunately, despite her reputation, he could not find her. His luck appeared to be further running out when he was stopped one day by a local produce merchant (merchant was a gracious term. The man was selling rotten fruit he had repainted to look edible, as 47 would ultimately find out. Even after a pack of smokes, he couldn't get the taste out of his mouth).

"You there, army looking twit. I've been seeing a lot of your stupid ass recently. Yet I don't recognize you. What's your business here?" The Merchant was obviously drunk.

This caused 47 to pause. He had hoped he might have more time before the residents of this God forsaken city would take more notice of him. However, 47 was if nothing else quick on his feet and a damn good liar.

"My business? Well I am a courier of sorts. I get paid to deliver items from people all around the world to the most dangerous of places. Names Val"

"Val ay? Well who ya looking for? I known every ugly mother fucker in this town" The drunk merchant replied.

"I appreciate your offer of assistance in my quest. But I am afraid even I do not know of whom I seek. My employer didn't offer many details about who I was to deliver the package to. Not a name, a detailed description, or if they are male or female. I only know that they are an old friend of my employer and that they have a distinctive scar"

"Well whats the scar?"

"I'm sorry. I am not permitted to say. My employer values the secrecy of this assignment and does not wish to have the details discussed"

"Fair enough" the drunk man slurred as he proceeded to pass out on top of his rotten produce.

47 continued on his way, deciding that taking the name Val would be for the best from this point forward, not that the drunk man would even remember their exchange. But now that his presence was being noticed, it would be easier to have a real name and story instead of a number.

After another slow week, as Val didn't want anyone else to remember him, he was able to eavesdrop on enough conversations to learn that his target. Two Hands went by a different name here. Here they called her Revy. This made his search much easier, as more people seemed to talk about a woman called Revy with maroon hair and a fiery temperament who was quick with her Cutlasses. But there was another piece of information that stuck out more than this. The one called Revy was an employee of a merchant company that went by the name of Lagoon. And she was apparently involved with another employee, a Japanese man called Rock, who apparently was dressed like a white collar worker.

The word on the street was that Revy was never far from Rock, so all he had to do was find Rock and he would find Revy. And since he knew what company they worked for, he figured he could just follow the crew from Lagoon until one of them lead him to Rock or Revy. He had a surprisingly easy time locating the one called Rock. He stuck out worse than Val did in this city. A clean cut and shaven Japanese man wearing a white button down shirt, green tie, dress pants, and polished shoes. So Val followed him, for weeks. And yet other then speaking with a woman dressed as a nun, whom he would later learn is called Eda, he never saw a woman with maroon hair and a pair of cutlasses, or anything else that stuck out to Val as interesting.

A/N: So here we go. A direct continuation from my last Black Lagoon Story. I originally hadn't planned to write a sequel to The Creature From The Black Lagoon, but I couldn't help myself and wrote in a possibility for a second story. Updates on this will be inconsistent. I have written 2 drafts for half the story but am still editing and have yet to figure out how I want things to end. But the first few chapters will be uplaoded within a few days, if not all today.

-NightSteed out