Chapter 1

Hello everyone, new story from, well most likely not your favorite writer but someone some of you like to follow and that is good enough for me. Anyways I have been having so much trouble writing lately with any of my other stories and was hoping this one would help me get thought the writer's block I been having. And seeing as I typed this up in like a week maybe it is helping. Now I am not sure if this will be something I keep working on are not but needed to get it out of my head know what I mean.

Anyways I hope you all enjoy and as always leave a review if you have any thoughts are whatever.

Fyi this is kind of in honor of Saints Row. They are coming out with a new game and feel it won't live up to the crazy bullshit I come to love about those games.

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Have you ever watched that movie with Nicolas Cage, Lord of War? Well, if you have than like in the start of the moive I am not going to sit here and tell you a bunch of lies to make myself sound better than what I really am. I am just going to tell you what happen but to do so I have to start at the beginning.

My name is Emilio Escobar no relation to Pablo seeing as he never existed in this world. Though I guess it is kind of fitting seeing as down the line I would become a criminal much like him. But I am jumping ahead. Like I said we need to start at the beginning so you can understand what happen and to do so some background information is needed. To start off I have to say I did lie to you already, my name isn't really Emilio Escobar at least not originally. You see I am basically what you call a walking talking cliché in that I was originally from a different world reborn into this one. But unlike most of those stories I wasn't sent here by some divine being given some save the world crap mission or anything like that. No, one moment I was in a hospital dying of lung cancer and the next bang I am wake up in some run-down orphanage on the wrong side of Hell's Kitchen.

And when I say wrong side, I mean wrong side as in there was a murder, mugging, drive by or any other number of things going down every other day. That was the first thing I noticed when I woke up. The 2nd thing I noticed and perhaps another cliché was after a few days in this world I came across a newspaper article about Howard Stark death. Needless to say, I wasn't exactly happy to find out that I reborn in a world of gods among men and from all appearances without any superpowers to call my own.

That would thankfully change after doing a bit of research into which universe I was in. Because as I was looking things up I heard a ding like a bell going off and a black screen with white letter saying level up. At first, I was pretty excited seeing as it seemed at the time that I got the OP gamer power like in so many fandoms but like the old saying goes if something seems too good to be true than generally it is. This being one of those cases seeing as after the level up I was shown a picture of what I can only describe as a type of skill tree. No stats, hp or mp bar, titles, buffs or anything like that. Just a skill tree with a countless number of superpowers from not just the Marvel Universe but DC, Naruto, Bleach, Fairly Tail and so on and so forward.

In many ways this would seem kind of cool seeing as theoretically I could become as powerful as a God. Hell, they had the fucking Beyonder's power on the list. Which to me settled the old argument who was strong the Beyonder or the One Above All. Seeing as the latter's power was not listed on here. But like any skill tree each power cost a certain number of skill points and you had to unlock other skills to move up. For example, I could in in theory unlock the Rinnegan but the sheer about of skill points I would need to do and the number of unlockable skills to get there was beyond anything I could even hope to accomplish in this lifetime. Especially seeing as I had no clue at the time on how I could even go about earning more skill points.

Like I said there was none of that typical gamer shit to look at and that went for experience as well. So, with no knowledge of how things worked at the time I had to very practical of what I picked for my first power. And seeing as I was in one of the worst parts of Hell's Kitchen, I knew immediately what I should chose. That being a healing factor, last thing I needed after all was a stray bullet hitting me and bleeding out. But again, like everything else I was disappointed to find out that those cost a shit load as well. So no Wolverin or Deadpool healing factor. No, those were higher on the skill tree and cost a lot more than 5 point I was given. Good news was that I could afford the next best thing to those and that was CC's healing factor from Code Geass minus the immortality thing of course. If I took a bullet to the head, I would heal in time just slowly. So, I wasn't going to be tanking gun shoot wounds or explosives like them. Nor did I want to sense I had a dislike towards pain in general and was worried all that pain could leave worse mental scars than I was already suffering from at this time.

With the lack of the typical gamer stuff including the oh so popular gamer mind it went without saying that I had come close to several mental break downs in the first year. I mean if you die than wake up in the body of an 8-year-old only, then find out you are in a mix of the Marvel Cinematic Universe, that Fox and Sony bullshit, and who else knew what you have a bit of trouble adapting as well. On a brighter note, however Tony fucking Stark was only 19 years old right now so if I was lucky and mean very, very fucking lucky I have 19 years before the start of Iron Man and 20 years before Loki showed up.

Now let's jump a head a bit after all my life in the orphanage was kind of boring and uneventful save meeting my best friend and who would become my righthand man in the years to come.

-1997-

If I had to pick a time when things started to change for me, it would be 1997. I was 14 years old at this point and the shit from the Captain Marvel moive had just passed. Or at least I think it had, it was hard to tell seeing as I didn't what Shield or Fury finding out I had powers or that someone was digging where they were not supposed to. Now why was this year so special? Well, this was the year I started my career into crime. Now before I tell you more, I just want to say to all you hypocrite out there who will judge my actions as wrong or even evil to try and understand how it all happen.

Remember when I told you I was living in an orphanage from day one and how it was not in a very good neighborhood well things acutely got progressively worse as time went by. The so-called caretaker of the orphanage was real a price of work. I mean we are talking outright scum who pocked most of the money the state sent to fund the orphanage while at same time becoming a a recruiting office of a type for the numerous gangs and mobs in the city. If you were mean enough and tough enough, he would contact one mob or gang and basically sell you to them as muscle. As for the girls is you were pretty enough than he would make sure you were well taken care of and when you were old enough to pass for legal, he made sure they went to some brothel or strip joint controlled by those same gangs. As for the rest of them like me we treated like dirt.

Now I know some of you are wondering where Child Protective Services at while this was happing. Well, let me just ask you this, do you know how many kids fall though the cracks every year in the system. Of course, you don't and to be honest neither do I. But let me put it this way anyone can be bribed, and paperwork faked. As for those kids who tired to report what was going on well no body misses an orphan. If one or two runaways happen within a year or two not too many questions are asked. Especially in Hell's Kitchen.

A prime example of this was Molly Hamon a pretty young blonde girl that was 2 years older than me. She was the type of child that if this orphanage ever had visitors from potential parents, she would have been picked up right away. Sadly, it never did get any and that was by design, so she ended up staying for the long haul till this year when she was sold to a strip joint ran by one of the Russian gangs. Poor girl was as pretty as she was dumb however, and proved it when she tried to report what was happing at the orphanage to cops. Problem was she went to the wrong fucking cop and got riddled with 9mm bullets in front of the orphanage as a warning to the other kids. As for the newspapers they just reported her as just other whore gun down in a drive by. So, no big lost to society and didn't even make the front page.

It was when I read this that I said enough was enough. I am no hero and never had any desire to be one even when I was in my old world but, in this world, it was become powerful or be used by those who were. It was only a matter of time before supervillains started to show up and if I wanted to survive, I needed power. And I am not talking superpowers because I had that and while I had learned how the skill tree and experience points worked to a point, I wouldn't be able to take on Daredevil none the less Spiderman or any other superhero or supervillain. The powers I had at this point while useful were not up to taking on even a non-superpowered villain like Wilson Fisk who thankfully hadn't shown up yet.

The point is I had some useful superpowers from the skill tree at this point. Having learned that experience points were rewarded for life experience. In other worlds every book I read; every action I took could lead to a point being given. Such as when I kissed a girl for the first time when I was 13 or when I smoked by first cigarette in this world. It was actually pretty weird really because that was not the only way it worked. Like for experience how I got points for each year I lived in this world minus the first 8 years which I got nothing for. So here I was on my 6 years here and was given 6 points to spend for at the beginning of the year.

Sadly, this was not an exact science however and the point system worked in random ways. My first kiss got me like 5 points but smoking a cigarette got me one. Touch my first tit got me nothing but a slap to the face but when I stole something for the first time, I got 2 points. So ya random as fuck but useful to know none the less.

Moving on however it was as I read this tiny insignificant article that I looked over at my friend Johnny and said, "Hey Johnny, they killed Molly man."

Hearing this Johnny who was just sitting on a couch watching an old ass TV looked over at me. "What the fuck you say?"

Seeing the anger in his eyes I said it once more, "They killed Molly man."

With a swift kick he kick the same old TV he was watching busted in a shower of sparks and glass causing everyone in the abandoned warehouse where we were currently staying at after we ran away from the orphanage to jump. Oh, and let me take this opportunity to introduce you to my future right hand man Johnny Sun or how I like to call him Johnny Gat. Seeing as he looked a lot like a teenage version of the video game character from Saints Row, I felt it was fitting. Plus, he had the same personally, which made me think that he really was Johnny Gat from the game but thank God there was no Stilwater. There would be enough crazy ass bull shit down waiting for me down line that I didn't need that shit to.

Now how we became friends, well that was easy to understand. Johnny was two years older than me making him 10 when I first met him but at that point, he wasn't the brash, sarcastic, hot-headed, self-righteous, and soon to be trigger-happy man he would become. No at the time of our first meeting he was just a shy Asian kid that everyone picked on. Unable to defend himself or unwilling to do so he wouldn't have lasted long in that place. Lucky for him while I was 8 years old at the time, I had the mind of a 40-year-old man. So, I knew that all I had to do was reach my hand out to him and he would accept it with gratitude. How much gratitude was yet to be known at the time but let's just say that while he was unwilling to defend himself, he was more than willing to defend me.

Fuck I should still remember the first time he did so. Slammed some stupid teenage fucks face right in the steps of the orphanage. Kid ending up eating through a straw for a month and Johnny, well no one fucked with him or me again after that.

Was it wrong of me to manipulate him as I did. Perhaps but as the years had gone by, I had grown to like the kid and at some point, he really did become my best friend. I even showed him my power a few months later and still got a good laugh when I thought about how much he freaked out when I stab myself with a knife in the leg only to see it heal after a time. I got more than a laugh out of that day however as when I showed him that he in turn swore his undying loyalty to me. Loyalty that down the line I would come to count on the most and would repay in kind.

After throwing a tantrum for a bit long Johnny calmed down and looked over at me. "So, what do we do about this?"

I knew what he wanted to do and couldn't really blame him. He and Molly were very close. Not like fucking each other close but close enough that he kind of saw her as his little sister or something like that. Hell, he wasn't the only one. I like the girl too despite how dumb she was.

"I think it's time we dipped our toes in the world a bit." I tell Johnny and stand up from where I was sitting.

Seeing him look at me with a surprise look on his face I couldn't help by smile a bit. So far since we left the orphanage we had been getting, by pickpocketing people, and committing petty theft. Nothing to big but enough to get use by and not bring on any real attention. Me and him had even kind of set up our only little goods exchange in this warehouse we were staying in with other preteens and teens. I wouldn't call us a gang seeing as we had no set leadership or type of organization but most of the small-time crime that took place in Hell's kitchen ended up here.

Which was why we had some connections to organize crime. Most notably the Kitchen Irish and a small-time crook that went by the name Harrison MacQuilly. A mobster so low on the pole that he wasn't even a thought to most members of the Kitchen Irish and was only a member due to his cousin being Michael Jortrier one of the Kitchen Irish's top enforces.

"So, what we going to do than, "Johnny asks.

"Let's go see Harrison." Is my only answer to him.

Before we move on somethings you needed to know about Harrison. As I said before the man was barely a mobster. Skittish and always looking over his shoulder the man was so high strung if you farted, he jumped. With that said he was a good earner for the Irish do to being the warehouse's fence and taking a big cut that often came out to about 2 to 3 grand every week. Yet while he took a big cut, he wasn't greedy and was fair in his dealing with us. Something you don't see that much in bad guys.

Some of you may be wondering how I knew well during this time I had unlocked a new skill. The Mood Colors as it is call was the skill I unlocked, and it did exactly as it sounded. It gave me the ability to look at someone and tell right away what their mood was based off a color I could see surrounding their bodies. Now this didn't mean I knew what was on their minds, but it did help me know when to approach someone and when not to. Like Harrison when we found him in a dive bar just up the street. He wasn't allowed in Burren Club seeing as he was to small time, so this was the place he was always at. And wouldn't you know it he was just leaving it after a few drinks before going to take this week's cut to his cousin Michael.

"Yo Harrison how it going?" I call out to him as he is walking towards his car.

Looking over at me the man doesn't seem too happy to see me and says, "What the fuck you what kid?"

His short reply may sound like he isn't happy to see me, but I know he was in a better mood than he let on by the dark blue waves of color coming off him. This meant he was calm which was not normal for him, but we kids came though for him this month and he had a nice fat stack to take to his cousin this month. That and he was drunk right now which made him an easy target.

"Hey, I don't what nothing. Just wanted to talk is all." I say to him.

Seeing as I was the one who was the go between with him and the other kids, he would talk to me mostly. So, I wasn't surprised when he said, "Than talk kid and make it fast I don't have time for any bullshit today."

I had to keep myself from laughing at this jackoff. Always trying to act tough when really, he wouldn't even come to the warehouse for fear of some of the more violent kids like Gat for example. Gat may have only been 16 but he already had a rep from violence and if he was Irish, he would have been recruited already by them.

"When have I ever come to you with bullshit. Remember it was me who informed you about that Greek price of shit trying to muscle in on your turf." I say to him.

Nodding his head at this Harrison just leans against his car trying to look tough still and says, "True and it's the only reason I am talking to a spec like you. So, say your piece, Emilio."

"I just wanted to let you know I have a big score lined up and need help unloading it." I say casually.

Laughing at what I have just said Harrison says, "Right a big score. What kid you got some more wallets and cheap watches you need pawned."

"No just 5 bricks of cocaine and some cash." I say as if I am discussing the weather.

Harrison looks at me like he is trying to see if I am lying and seeing no signs of that he says, "Fine kid I will bite where you going to get five bricks from."

"The orphanage. The caretaker there has been going behind your bosses backs and selling out of there for the Russians for some time now." I answer in a matter-of-fact tone.

Looking at me like I am crazy Harrison says, "You what to hit the Russians?"

"No, I want to hit that guy who is working with the Russians in Irish territory." I answer him and see his face become unsure.

And there was the coward known as Harrison for you. Of course, someone like him didn't what any trouble with the Russians. He didn't have the balls to pick a fight with the orphans in the warehouse none the less the fucking Russians. With that said he was also someone who wanted to move up in the Kitchen Irish and wasn't very smart.

"I know what your thinking fucking with the Russians isn't a good idea, but the caretaker isn't with them. He only works for them and is cutting the Irish out. We hit him, you take the credit and 50 percent of the take. This allows you to move up in the world and as for the Russians well I don't think they will go to war over 5 bricks and some cash when they know they were not supposed to be dealing in Irish territory." I tell him.

Looking at me he says, "Fuck you, you little spic. I take 75 percent or can fucking piss off."

I just smile at this and say, "Sure Harrison, 75 percent and me and my friends' names stay out of this right?"

"Right, but make sure this fucking caretaker is fuck up real good before you end him. No one deals in Irish territory without our say so." He says trying to sound tough again.

He reality he was stupid. How else could anyone explain why he didn't ask why I came to him with this or what I had got out of this. The Russians were looking to expand outside of their own territory, and it just so happen that the Irish were right next door. It a common saying that war was bad for business in the gang world but sooner or later someone always gets greedy. So, war was inevitable at some point. What I wanted was to turn it to my befit and Harrison was the key to that. But we will get into that more later later.

Giving him a two-finger salute I say, "You got it just remember we had nothing to do with this."

Harrison just waves me off as I walk away. I knew all to well the man would cry to anyone who would listen that it was us if things went south. And they would soon enough but I had a plan to take care of that already.

As Johnny and me walk away he speaks up for the first time and asks, "Why did you agree to give 75 percent of the take Emilio. We are the ones doing all the work and taking the risk here we should get a bigger cut."

"I agree Johnny, but this is for the best." I tell him understanding where his mind was going. After all we left a very import person in the orphanage to watch for the perfect opportunity.

"How so?" He asks me in a very aggravated tone of voice.

"Simple I don't what the drugs or the money. They are inconsequential to my overall goal." I tell him.

"Goal?" He asks a bit puzzled.

"That is right Johnny my goal. Our mutual friend is quickly getting a hold of his ability, so I feel its time for us to come into our own and we start tonight. Just follow me and trust me Johnny before long we will own all Hell's Kitchen" And then the city I thought to myself as we kept walking.

-Later that night-

There is something to be said about planning your first murdered. Most murders like so many other things are often done in the moment with very little planning involved. Crimes of passion they call them. I call them crimes of stupidly. Much like petty robberies of gas stations and mini markets. Really, they were pointless crimes done on the fly and in the moment for little to no gain. But what I was going to do that night was for a hell of a lot more than some petty cash or momentary self-satisfaction. So planning was essential.

Now this was the late 90's and all that so called facial recognition tech, cell phones and shit was either non-existent or really in its early stages. Even DNA evidence was fairly new to the point that I didn't have to take the same precautions that I would have had to in the late 2010's but I wasn't the type to not take precautions. Gloves, masks, untraceable guns provided to us by the same mutual friend in the orphanage who had the uncanny ability to get his hands or pretty much whatever he liked. And who would be playing a key role tonight as well.

Now on to exactly what the plan was. Johnny and I were to be frank the gunmen in this. Our job was to go into the orphanage and take out the targets, while our mutual friend acted as our look out and gave us the signal of when to strike. Now this wasn't some half ass go in guns a blazing plan. No this was more pinpoint professionally thought out. We get in take out the targets with as little gun fire as possible grab the bricks and the cash as quicky as we could and leave. Oh, and before I forget the target wasn't just the caretaker of the orphanage. I wasn't really lying when I told Harrison that I didn't think the Russians would go to war over the caretaker. Even if it was a small chance that they wouldn't seeing as they were looking for a reason to do so it was still a there. After all like any other faction or organization there where those in it that didn't want war and before you ask how I knew that it was the same mutual friend again.

So going back what I was saying with no guarantee that the Russians would go to war with the Irish over the death of the caretaker I needed to set things up to make sure it happens. To do that I waited for the perfect opportunity to strike and that came when the caretaker was looking to increase how much drugs he was selling by a significant portion. Something I left out when telling Harrison about my little plan. Tonight, instead of the normal 5 bricks he generally got the caretaker was meeting with a lieutenant of the Russians and a few of his men to receive 20 bricks and about half a million in cash. It was a drastic increase and an aggressive expression on behalf of the Russians. One that the Irish wouldn't be happy to learn about when I killed the Russians and delivered the drugs and money to Harrison.

"Fuck its cold man. When well these Russians fucking show up man." Johnny says as we wait just across from the orphanage in a back-alleys guns at the ready and silencers on.

"They will show up when they show up Johnny and just be happy its fall and not winter." I say next to him freezing my balls off as well.

"Ya I guess but still fuck man its cold. I swear my balls are going to fall off and they are bigger than yours so I have more to lose." He keeps complaining but that was Johnny and I just laugh.

But the laugher stops when a car pulls into the driveway of the orphanage and heads to the back. This was it the time had come to do this shit. Looking over at Johnny I see the face of a stone-cold killer despite the fact that he had never kill anyone to date.

"You ready Johnny?" I ask.

"What the fuck you think." He says back coldly, and I smile.

"Then we move on the signal." I say and wait.

The signal comes in the form of a shadow materializing from behind us. Walking out of it was Dominic no last name. A pretty boy friend of Johnny's and the first mutant I had met in this universe.

"What do we got Dom?" I ask him.

"Four Russians. Two standing guard outside and two inside in the back of the basement were the caretaker keeps his safe." He answers somewhat shyly.

Nodding my head I say, "Just like we thought. Alright go back inside and make sure the staircase inside is locked and blocked than reenter the shadows and be ready to jump in if things don't go as planned."

"Got it." He answers than looks at Johnny who only give him a small nod.

When he reentered the shadows I look at Johnny and with out a word we silently move to the back. Now despite the common belief that all criminals were inherently stupid that was in fact not the case. If you wanted to live in the criminal underworld you had to be cunning, paranoid, and fast. Because one slip up, one wrong move and it was over with you either ending up in jail or dead. With that said even the most paranoid of people can let their guard down when they feel safe and that was what had happened with these Russians.

Not that I could blame them. I mean they were at an orphanage meeting with a known associate and were relatively sure that no one knew they were here. Sad for them that I knew, and this is where their lives ended.

Rounding the corner guns already drawn and pointed at the chests of the two Russians they only have a moment to realize what is happing as me and Johnny both fire two shots each into their chests. Neither one of us were very experienced with guns but at a range of less than 10 feet and holding the guns in two hands instead of the one like a couple of idiots it was an easy hit.

Johnny's guy dies instantly with one bullet hitting the guy right below the heart or right on it. The man didn't even have time to fully realize what is happing before he died of blood loss. Mine was not so lucky as while I hit his chest and he went down neither of my shots killed him right away. He would still bleed out within minutes but in those few minutes he could yell for help, and I wasn't about to let him do that. So quickly moving up before he could yell I fired one more shot right between his eyes ending his life for good.

With both guards down me and Johnny waited for a few moments to listen for any sound that would tell us we had been heard. The silencers despite their names were not really soundless. They made noise but just not as loud as a normal gun shot. So, they could be heard if you were close enough to hear them, but the rests of our targets should be in the back at this point right next to the old heater which makes a loud enough rack that you could hear it on the floor above.

Those few seconds felt like forever but after a slow 5 count we realize we were good and head down the stairs. Once we reach the bottom, we were confronted by the same junk that had been down there for what was probably decades. Wooden shelves filled with junk that was no good to anyone and not arranged in any type of organization. A real fucking mess but one that was perfect for hiding behind and we used that to its fullest.

The two other Russians who had their backs turned to us didn't even see it coming like those guys upstairs. Johnny and I quickly put two in their backs each and watched them fall. The caretaker didn't even know what was happing for a moment before fear took him and he drop to the ground hands raised in surrender like the coward he was.

Perhaps I was being too hard on him after all two men just got shot right in front of him out of nowhere. Only highly trained individuals would think about putting up a fight. Regardless I quickly moved up as Johnny pointed his gun at the caretaker and put two bullets in the back of the skulls of the Russians. Chances are they were already dead when we shot them in the back, but I was not the type to take unnecessary risks.

With that done I turned to face the caretaker my face hidden by the mask I had on as he asks us who we were. I remember him begging for his life and asking us did we even know what we had done or were fucking with. His words fell on death ears with us. Now Harrison told me to fuck up the caretaker will good before I killed him, and I had every attention of doing that. But not for Harrison or the Irish, or justice or any other bullshit reason. No what I was about to do was for Molly and my own self-satisfaction. By the time I was done I would have the blood of both the innocent and the guilty on my hands. Granted I was hoping more of the latter than the first, but I would not lie to myself about the things I do.

So picking up a ball-peen hammer that was lying on a table I strike the caretaker across the face. The sound of braking bone is heard along with his broken screams. He tries to cover his head as I bring down the hammer again and again. Beating him to death in front of Johnny who looks on coldly. By the time I am done, and his screaming has stopped his face is hardly recognizable. Just a mangled pile of flesh and bone.

Dropping the hammer, I turn and go to collet the coke and money than leave the orphanage. Dominic would stay behind for the time being so as to not arouse suspicion. He would join us in a few months after a new caretaker was appointed.

As we left, I remembered a line from a game I played in my other life. The first time you kill you come to a crossroad. You learn something about yourself. You don't learn what you're capable of, or how bad a person you are, or any of that shit. You learn if you can sleep at night or if you can't. You're either haunted by what you have done or you're not. When I returned to the warehouse that night I slept like a baby and every night since.