Welcome back everyone! To another interlude!
As always I'd like to thank those who left a review, I see the last chapter really resonated with a lot of you. That's good right?
Thank you Majestic Sappling, noone297, jin0uga, Baoh joestar, Nordlending, Bagration and Gamewizard2008 (sup homie) for the reviews, I appreciate them.
Anyways, I hope you enjoy this brief interlude, we'll start up the next Arc sometime next week. Enjoy.
Black
In the world of Remnant there were those who fought for causes too noble to ignore and then there were those who fought for riches. Marcus Black was the latter. He killed men for money. It was his life.
Once upon a time, Marcus was a Huntsmen. He'd studied at Haven in Mistral, spent semesters abroad in Vale at Beacon, learning all manners of murder. Eviscerating an enemy's bowls with his bare hands was a neat trick. Some say he'd allegedly picked up stopping a man's heart from Ozpin himself. But there was never any evidence to support this claim. No one ever saw him stop a man's heart. Not when they were in the same room anyhow.
A soldier of fortune, Marcus quit the Huntsmen game and joined up with the private sector. It paid well, better than any other government gig e had with the Mistral council. All over the world Marcus went, from the deserts of Vacuo to the porcelain streets of Atlas.
Anyone with any sense would find it odd, that a Huntsmen, or rather, former Huntsman would be sent to state capitols instead of the outbacks and outskirts where Grimm roamed preying on the fearful. But it was an entirely new hunt to Marcus. The kind that paid better.
If the company matched his price, Marcus would gladly kill whoever they sent him after. He refined it to an art. Politicians, activists, even a Headmaster or two, anyone who got in the company's way. The bigger the pain in the ass, the bigger the payday.
But then as with all things, Marcus got older, he got slower. On one mission, a milk run by his standards, he couldn't pull the trigger fast enough, the target got a shot of and hit him in the leg. Leaders of the White Fang always carried the most crude of weapons.
It was when he was on the operating table when he thought about his life. What had he truly accomplished? Blood money that could fund small nations were trivial now when faced with his own mortality. A man was defined by his legacy. When he died, Marcus would leave nothing.
So Marcus set out to change that. What he needed was an heir to his knowledge of killer techniques. Someone to inherit the family business. Someone who could carry on the family name.
Traveling to the streets of Mistral, back home in one of the seedier parts of town, the kind where the women of the night hanged out, just trying to make ends meet. Marcus approached one, not too pretty, not too ugly, not too old, and not too young. He gave her an offer she couldn't possibly refuse. Have his child and you'd be set for the rest of your life.
Nine months later, his son was born, Mercury. Marcus never saw the woman again, not that he cared. But when she handed over their son, he caught a glimpse of some foreign sentiment. He saw in her eyes only the kind of love a mother could have for her child.
The rest of his life, Marcus would groom his son in order to create the perfect killing machine. Mercury had a bad streak, however, but a couple of beatings set that right. Day after day, Marcus would teach his son everything he knew.
Eighteen years later, Marcus would finally see the results of his labor. An argument broke out between them, father and son. Their brawl, taking place in their secluded cabin in the woods, lasted for days.
And by the end of it, Marcus was given definitive proof that he'd succeeded in molding a killer in his image.
On his knees with bandages barely holding his legs together, Mercury was left wondering how in the world he was ever going to walk again. His answer came in the form of two lovely ladies.
"What're you looking at?" Mercury spat.
"I'm looking for Marcus Black." Cinder said coolly.
Mercury spat up blood once more and gestured to his now dead Father rotting in the field beside him. "There you go."
And so is the legacy of Marcus Black.
When we were introduced to Marcus Black, it was after he and his son Mercury had gotten into a lethal brawl. There was a story there, he was an assassin, good enough to be wanted by Cinder for her evil machinations, but she showed up and he was dead and took in his son instead.
I promise this wasn't just an excuse to shoe horn in a one shot, despite the interludes being just that.
Well, anyways, I hope you enjoyed this. 'Til next time! Later Days!