Chapter one: Warm Welcome.
The past few days have been rather calm. No violence, no major criminal attack has occurred. This is mostly due to recent actions by the government to increase the freedom of the heroes in terms of action, as-well as a major increase in their budget. This means that committing any crimes worthy of invoking the heroes reaction has become increasingly unappealing to criminals and the likes.
This has resulted in less frequent opportunity for heroes to show their might, skill and to gain fame. This has resulted in an increase in the range of crimes in which heroes retaliate. Japan has became the nation that has the least amount of crimes committed in total. Of course, the civilian life has improved drastically as a result.
This, however leaves one small issue on the table. The lack of villains and criminals has set a ticking clock into motion which, if not halted, will start an endless cycle. Nowadays, on the truly skilled… No, that isn't the right word, what I meant was "Blessed" ones are capable of getting accepted to hero schools and becoming heroes. Seems understandable and logical, this results in less new heroes and that leads to an even more increased budget.
Let me pose you a question tho. If only the crème de la crème can become what they have dreamed of since but a small child, how do you think it makes then feel to know that they are not needed. That A's ability is not good enough compared to B's ability, therefore B will get the job and A can go and do whatever they will be capable of doing. It has been always this way, but not on this scale.
Some go to jobs where their abilities can be of use. Sadly, some people of the old era and those without power don't look necessary fondly on these "Hero wannabe's" entering their sector of work, so they started not hiring those who were in those schools. Of course, this was illegal, but the government was in a position where they couldn't anger their producers, so while small companies were forced to obey and let them work, larger companies could simply flip the finger and do whatever they wanted, with no drawback or action coming in their way.
Some went to study abroad. Sadly, Japan is the dominant world power when it comes to hero training, their budget and the laws surrounding what they can and cannot do. Most gave up and settled down in foreign nations. Some got lucky and managed to become the dream of their lives, most, not really.
This is the life of those who were blind enough not to see that their services and powers aren't needed in this world any more. Truly sad, isn't it? Of course, some didn't swallow this very well. Some decided, if not a hero, then a villain is what they shall be. It slowly switched from petty criminals to people with low and even middle power to turn towards a less then optimal lifestyle.
The government has decided return to their old ways. This is the last year where the old systems is in place, therefore, from next year on, there will be a lot of heroes again. This makes most happy. Logically, they once again have a chance to be worthy and show it.
But for those who have been in business for a long time smell a window of opportunity. A lot of resources are being redirected towards the academias. If ever, now is the time to make some big bucks and fame along the criminal class. Someone has already acquired someone's help who will be capable of accomplishing that task.
…
A dark, cold night sets on Musutafu city. Only small lamps light the streets, as people make their way to their home, to their families and their loved ones. The slowly rising moon's light dances on the street like if it was her first and last time she could dance on the fields, the streets, in the windows and houses.
A small warehouse located near the outskirts of the city is filled with life even at this odd hour. Two guards glance around in the room as they down some imported cognac and chatting. Some cigarette smoke fills the air as both of them laugh and smoke and drink even more. Both wear black clothes, black sunglasses black shoes and have their guns by their sides.
"Friedrich, you German bastard. Don't you dare to drink all of my alcohol. I will shove my foot up your ass if ya do."
One says to the other as he takes his glasses off. Both of the laugh a bit as Friedrich reaches into his pocket to take out a small flask. He smiles at the other guards.
"Vodka, bitch. Drink up, Kun"
Kun laughs as he takes the bottle and glances at his comrade. He takes the bottle of and smells it. He pulls his head away as his mouth twists. He looks back at Friedrich and smiles. He pours a shot and down it. He shakes his head.
"Good shit, GOOD SHIT!"
He says as he laughs. Friedrich just shakes his head and takes the bottle back, taking a sip from the bottle itself. His face doesn't react to the alcohol, drinking it with no problem.
"So, Kun, what are you doing in Japan, in a location such as this? This isn't the place for the evil-doers to be, especially in the times such as these."
Kun raises an eyebrow. He points at Friedrich and speaks.
"I could ask you the same thing. After all, you do the same stuff I do."
He rolls his eyes and takes another sip. He puts the bottle onto the table and Kun pours himself another shot. The two look at one and another.
"Alright, Kun, if ya really want to know, I came here a few years ago. It was easier times, as it was like how you most likely heard. Not calm, but reasonable times. Heroes got accepted, criminals did their shit, it was good, really good. Then, around two or three-ish years ago, shit changed. You know what happened as a result, I refused to leave. Pay is just to good. Well, was."
He leans over to Kun, who gives him a half smile.
"You didn't hear it from me, but I heard that the government was planning on going back on the budget increase and the "Free action of Heroes in necessary circumstances" bullshit law. I heard that its gonna be announced in the next few days, meaning no money for all the current operations the heroes are doing. I also heard, boss was getting someone who will be capable of doing his will and cause some REAL shit in this city, heck, perhaps even in Tokyo. Only time will tell."
Kun takes the cigarette out of his mouth and puffs smoke into Friedrich's face. Friedrich waves his hand before his mouth and tears run trough his smooth face. He leans back, coughing. Kun smirks as he puts the cigarette in an ashtray.
"So, you wish to imply that for the next, how long? four or six months the heroes will be operating with not only fewer members, but with also a decreased budget? Now this, is intriguing. I assume Boss knows, ay?"
Friedrich nods.
"Who you think I heard these juicy informations?"
Kun sniffs as he looks out a small window next to their table. Only the moonlight lights the streets and their room. He gazes onto the slowly ripping waves of the sea and the slowly buzzing firefly's. He turns back to Friedrich with a sour mouth.
"You do know spying and ease dropping on Boss is the easiest way of getting the shit beaten out of you."
Friedrich clicks his mouth, closes his eyes and puts both of his hands on his nape. He stretches his legs out and lights another cigarette. He reaches his hand out to Kun, cigarette box in hand. Kun takes one and lights it.
"I don't know about you, but to me it seems as you are taking the possible consequences lightly."
Friedrich bites his cigarette and opens one of his eyes.
"You are no rat. He will not know otherwise. I think. From what we know, there might be recording devices up our asses."
Kun chuckles as he looks up the ceiling.
"It is fucking cold here! Friedrich, tell me once again why the fuck are we here in such an hour and why couldn't they given us a fucking blanket if we must sit in this fucking cold temperature. I mean, c'mon mate, this is outrageous."
Friedrich shakes his head. His cigarette hits the ground as he finally gets all the satisfaction out of it. He tries to yank out another but to his terror, he ran out. The now empty box crumbles in his hand as he eyes Kun.
"We are supposed to wait for someone who comes trough sea. From the Russian port city of Vladivostok. Idiot for not using a plane if ya ask me."
As they both try to relax they both sigh in annoyance. Their faces red, their eyes heavy, they don't really enjoy the situation. Their chest slowly rise and falls, as their breaths leave a white smoke. Kun's had slowly returned towards Friedrich's way.
"Did you hear that?"
Friedrich reopens right eye.
"What no-"
A thundering crunching echoes to the small warehouse. The two glance at the other and reach their guns. Friedrich flips the table and the two crouch behind it.
"Go and check what's going on, I keep your gun with me."
Kun points at himself with his hand. His eyes, wide awake.
"What makes you think I yearn for a beating from a hero, eh? Go and check it yourself."
A quiet slapping sound is heard. Kun rubs his face as he, with searing hatred, looks at Friedrich.
"Cunt, out of the two of us, you have the ability to turn into black smoke like shit. Go check it or I give ya another one, it will be also on the house."
Kun throws his gun at Friedrich. He glances over the table and with a swift seconds, his body begins to turn thinner and darker.
"Don't fucking die while I'm gone."
And with that, he flows away, through the door. Friedrich tries to sit for a while, but as he didn't wish to get a cold, he is forced to stand up from the ground. He clicks his mouth as he leans over to the wall, not bothering to keep his rifle at the door. After a minute or so a black smoke flows back into the room.
"Nothing. Just some rats I assume. They are way to fucking loud. Ratatouille could calm the fuck down."
He slowly re-materialises and Friedrich throws him his gun. Kun looks at the table shaking his head.
"Now look at the table, you-"
With a crack, the door flows open. Kun aims his rifle, but with a loud thud, a box hits Kun on the head. He staggers a bit forwards before falling face first onto the ground. Friedrich glances at him comrade then at the invader. He reaches for his pistol, but before he could aim, he feels his body hitting the wall. He glances down to his pistol, which now was missing its barrel. Coughing, he looks up to the attacker, who was holding the barrel in his hand. He throws it onto the ground.
As it hits the ground, Friedrich slowly raises his hand.
"Now, now. There is no need for such violence."
The figure stops and looks at him. Neither of them move, sizing the other. Friedrich was not in a position to fight this hero, but he was certain that, with some tricks, he can either get away or even win.
"NOW!"
Friedrich shouts. Kun jumps on the figures back and Friedrich rubs his hands together. After he finishes rubbing them, a small revolver is in his hands. He grips it and aims it, just to see Kun get throw onto the ground with a painful cracking sound. Friedrich aims and fires. The thing dodges the shot and grips his hand and forces it towards the ceiling.
Friedrich gets to see the figure from close up now. He wore a mask, its upper part was seemingly gold, the lower part was black. Where his eyes where supposed to be were, was only nothing, he could not see his eyes for some reason, his whole face was covered by the mask. The rest of his clothes were deep black, so were his gloves and shoes. Friedrich, with his leg, kicks the figure on its side, who in return, headbutts him.
Friedrich's head hits the brick wall of the building and falls to the ground. Both his front and behind of his head is bleeding. He tried to get up, but the figure grips his throat and slams him into the wall. Parts of it break from the impact and loud cracks indicate broken bones.
Both Kun and Friedrich were on the ground, one not knowing where he was from the head injury and the slamming into the ground, the other, half dead.
*Ring, Ring, Ring*
A phone began ranging. It was on the ground, possibly belonged to one of the guys. The intruder walks over to it and picks it up.
…
After an hour or so, the figure arrives to his location in the car sent for him, along with his two opponents. He gets out of the car, before him is a great hotel. In large letters it says;
The Great Franz Ferdinand Hotel
He glances over to the entry door and walks in. Large paintings, wood tables, chairs, expensive looking couches and lanterns. The door opens once again and Kun enters, carrying Friedrich on his shoulders. Bloody slowly running from his onto the ground. The man doesn't bother looking back, just walk to the reception.
A man is sleeping on the counter, head deep in his hands, forming a makeshift pillow. He knocks on the counter and the man wakes up, looking at him.
"Ah, you are the one who boss paid to do our bi-"
His eyes widen as he looks behind him and see two of his comrades, heavily injured. He gets out if his chair and rushes to them. He puts Friedrich's hand over his shoulder and helps Kun drag him off to receive medical care. He points at a room towards the left side of the building and tosses our golden masked guy some keys.
"He is waiting for you."
With that, the three, well, two, walk away, carrying their comrade.
Hands in pocket, eyes down onto the ground, he walks alone trough the giant building. He doesn't bother gazing onto the magnificent decoration and the warmth it gives out, only looking up once he finally find the door which he was supposed to enter. He knocks on the door, waiting for a response.
"Come in!"
With that, he puts the key in and opens the door. A large room, with a big fireplace, sofa, bed and even a kitchen and a bathroom is what meets his eyes.
A man is laying in the bed, laptop in his lap. His white hair, grey pupils, snow white skin and slightly black clothes ensure that you cannot miss him.
"Ahhhh, friend, it is most great news to see you. I heard that our welcoming party was most unpleasant."
The man laughs awkwardly as he slightly plants his face in his hand.
"Look, I know what you think, but I swear that it was unintentional. I told my guys that you were coming, I.. I don't know why they would draw their guns on you. I hope that you can understand that. Please, take a seat in that big, warm chair."
He does as he is told and the man sits up from his bed and walk over to the kitchen. He pours some water into the water heater and turns it on. He tries to start some small talk with the man he hired, who just beat two of his best agents, one to almost death.
"Having a room that is the size of a normal house is pretty funny. I can get what I want without even having to leave this room. I can just ask my man to get me my stuff. Hahaha, this is live, mate. Also, name's Andro"
…
No answer. He slightly bites his lips as he only now thinks about who did he just hire. After pouring some quick tea powder into two cups, he pours water into them and walks back to his guest.
"So. Can you talk? Do you understand me?"
…
He nods.
"Aaaaalright. I think you should get to know your surrounding first, yea? About this hotel; this is a hotel made during the tenth anniversary of the Austrian unification, back in 1965. It was a move to establish slightly warmer relation between the two nations. It is old, but with enough money, anything can be kept up to date. Now, until we deem that your services are no longer needed, you will be housed here. I do believe that being in a four and a half star hotel for free is a nice offer, isn't it?"
The man removes his mask's lower half and places it onto the table. Andro looks as he picks up his cup of tea and sips from it. Andro places his own cup down and smiles, hoping to get something similar in return from the person who just beat the ever loving shit out of his man.
"I take your silence as a "yes". In the meantime I will give you this folder, it contains what I want you to do for me. Since you will be making me quite a bit of money, you will have some money to spend on yourself, take this money as an addition to your pay, but given so that your missions can be accomplished in a more timely manner. For now, read this."
He picks up a document case from the table next to him, placing it before him.
"I never got your name, it would be much easier to talk with you if I did know it."
…
"Atlas."
He puts down his cup of tea and picks up the case. He opens it and begins to read.
"Oh, Atlas, it is then. I do not assume this is your real name, is it?"
…
Atlas continues to read the document, not bothering to give feedback or an answer to Andro. His mouth remains emotionless as he reads. He throws the document onto the table. It lands with a thud and Andro squeezes himself deeper into his chair. He looks at Atlas's hand as he points at one part of the text.
"Robbing the स्वर्ण मंदिर (svarn mandir)"
Andro chuckles a bit as he rubs his forehead with a rug.
"Yes, svarn mandir, it translates to "Golden Church" from Indian. It was and still is, a memorial place for the victims of the Tokyo firebombing. It has a lot of valuables, especially a golden statue. It isn't a large one, but it worth a lot. Full of diamonds, gems and all that makes ones mouth water."
Atlas than moves his hand to another point.
"Avoid the heroes(Especially Izuku Midoriya), as well as not enraging the Sigaraki."
"Huh. Didn't realise we fucked up his name. Wait, is it Sigaraki or Shigaraki? Anyway, one is a hero and the other is a villain. It seems like both have a heavy weight in their club, just stay away from them."
Atlas nods as he finishes his drink and with a click, reattaches his masks lower part.
"Anything you want me to do?"
Andro looks at Atlas, surprised that he actually said a full sentence.
"No, please, rest. I will not be sending you out just now, after all, you must be tired."
"Thank you, but I slept well on the Russian trade ship. The Russians were friendly."
"Wai- what?"
"Yea."
"Why are you talking now?!"
"My throat was hurting from the cold weather. The warm tea has made it subside."
"Well, I do have to ask. I heard you have no… Powers. Like none. You are a defective. Use-"
"For each shit you say, I will remove that many bone. Just because I speak and not sit like a dead man, doesn't mean you can throw shit at me. I have killed people since I was but a teen. If you read the Bible, you know David and Goliath. Do not test my patience. The only thing that holds me back is cold cash. And even that has its limits"
Andro nods as he tries not to look into the man's eyes. Atlas leans back into his chair and slowly taps his fingers together.
"You see. The people of the Balkan Peninsula always had problems with the law. Be without powers or with powers, crime is a blooming activity. People improvised. I learned to improvise to. Technology, weapons, charisma, you name it."
Atlas, with a loud click, removes a gun from, his side.
"My sub machine gun."
Andro looks at the gun. The gun seemed self made, with holes on the barrel for cooling down.
"It has single, three shot and burst mode."
He takes his gun and removes its magazine.
"I don't think anything can withstand forty shots in 1.8 seconds. But I gladly be proven wrong."
He shoves the mag back and puts his gun away.
"I have skills. Not great, but I know my job."
Atlas leans closer to Andro's face.
"Why do you think I earned the title "Butcherer of Varna"? Think. But I'm certain you know that. After all, you paid to get me here… And now… I'm not planning on leaving until I have been called the "Butcherer of Tokyo". A few kills here, a few kills there. No skin off my face. Just pay me well. Last man who didn't pay me well… You can check the Bosporus Straight, he might be down there."
With that, Atlas leaves the room. Andro slowly slumps in his seat as he questions his decision as to how to make money. He just hopes money will keep this man on his side...