A sharp hacking sound reverberated around in the restroom, the one making the sound was Jaune Arc. It was surprising how long someone could dry heave when they didn't need to breathe. An hour ago, he had woken up a little dizzy, but that didn't stop him from thinking.
He was an idiot. A complete moron. Someone could even call him retarded. He had almost sold something completely illegal, because he had misunderstood a shady looking man. It was obvious in hindsight, but he has skipped over common sense, and acted like a naÏve child. He went into a club and asked around for his customer, and had pissed off the staff. Then he led a girl back to Verlet. The girl beheaded Verlet, then she took a picture with it- had made him be in the picture. He smiled. Then she beheaded him, took another picture, and he smiled again.
If Jaune had blood flowing, he was sure he would've spit it all up by now, he could feel the inside of his throat rip and tear, followed by a warm sensation that healed him. He had reattached his head to his body, there wasn't even a scar. He had never wished for warm tears to flow down his face before now. He couldn't throw up, he couldn't cry, he could do nothing to expel the negative emotions that clouded his mind.
He knew what he could do, he could numb his emotions again. It was an accidental side effect, it seemed to happen when he activated two different abilities at the same time, he would use a third ability. When he turned off his ability to see color and his ability to hear sound, he also turned off his ability to feel.
Or maybe he could turn off his ability to think. That one wasn't an actual ability, rather it happened because he hadn't slept or ate anything since he came back to life. With his body unable to feel nervous, he had mistaken the empty feeling in his stomach for calmness. His body didn't feel emotions, it shouldn't have felt empty, that was his brain telling him he was empty, hungry. After sleeping, he could think clearly again.
If he could, he would break the time/space continuum just to punch himself in the face for being an idiot. Who knows? Maybe his list of random powers that existed to make his life -unlife- an actual hell, included time travel.
He spent another hour calming himself down. There was nothing he could do about his problems. He couldn't ask for help with his new unlife, people would think he was crazy, then after he gave proof, they would most definitely do experiments on him. He couldn't tell the cops about Verlet's death without incriminating himself, for accessory to murder and delivering illegal packages, he couldn't say he did those by mistake, they wouldn't believe him, he would have to explain everything and that path led to experiments.
What would he even do about his own murder, attempted murder, but he couldn't die, so he can't be killed, blah blah, he wasn't alive. If he was already dead, then would it be desecrating a corpse? Back on topic, he couldn't confront his... The girl who had beheaded him. Not only did he not know where to find her, he wouldn't be able to beat her in a fight. Plus he didn't have time for a detour, he still had to find a criminal.
Once again, Jaune wanted to punch his past self. His onesie was important, but finding someone to forge legal documents so he could be enrolled into Beacon, came first.
He looked up from the sink he was dry heaving in and examined his reflection in the restroom mirror, his face covered in dirt and muck. The dirt came from his journey through the forest, and the muck came from the bench he had fallen asleep on, where the muck was before that, he didn't want to know. After undressing, he turned intangible, the dirt and muck fell off. Now that Jaune could think again, he had remembered the word intangible, it meant unable to be touched and lacking a physical presence. It wasn't a completely accurate word to define his ability, considering he could still see, so light had to be able to touch his eyes.
Or maybe he had the ability to perceive the world without his eyes. He closed his eyes, but he took a moment to realize that he had; his eyelids were transparent.
Jaune went back to being tangible and got dressed in his newly washed clothes, then he left the restroom. And after he packed back up all his things and he left the laundromat, through the back door. He needed a second to confirm that what he was seeing was real, that it really was Verlet's corpse that was lying on the ground. No cops were around. He looked around the alley, no one, not a single person noticed a murder or a corpse left to rot overnight. He felt like dry heaving again. He took a few shaky breaths before thinking.
I can't call the cops. There's nothing I can do.
He was going to ignore the corpse.
Is this really the best action? Well, what should I do? Bury him? That's crazy! We can't just do nothing! He was a drug dealer! He was supposed to pay us.
He froze.
That last thought had wiggled its way up from his subconscious. Everything he was dealing with was a whole lot more than being killed because of Verlet, he was a drug dealer who got him mixed up in his dealings. Jaune had only done so to get money, but he didn't complete his job, and Verlet was dead, he stood over the headless body, his thoughts misfiring while trying to suppress the conclusion that his subconscious came to.
Someone else would loot his body.
His subconscious tried to justify.
He punched himself in the face. "That was for you, future me, because I know I'll regret this later." He told himself as he kneeled down next to Verlet and picked up an empty plastic garbage bag to use as a glove as he searched through his pockets. He found a small switchblade, a lighter, a back-up canister of Burn Dust for the lighter, a nearly empty pack of cigarettes, gum wrappers, a locked Scroll, a burner Scroll, receipts, and a wallet with 700 Lien packed into it.
He kept the switchblade, the lighter, the extra fuel, the burner Scroll and the Lien. The rest he dumped into the trash bag. As he stood up, he noticed Verlet was wearing rings, a chain necklace and a golden wristwatch, he couldn't think of a practical reason to take them. He wouldn't wear them, and he didn't know where to pawn them, so he left them.
When he was done pocketing his new belonging, something tickled at the back of his head.
Verlet didn't smell. Jaune sniffed the air, nothing. Not wanting to waste time, he forced himself to smell, choosing to believe the issue was him and not Verlet. It was like looking at the Sun after spending the night playing video games instead of sleeping. Overwhelming. Rotten eggs and spoiled milk had nothing on this stench. If his body was working, he felt like his eyes would melt, his intestines would violently eject out of his mouth from the force of his vomit.
It gave him the same helpless and powerless feeling as the world of Nothing he had seen, but this was trapped in the world of the living.
It was Death.
Death crept Its way up his nose, to his brain and down into his throat. His vision blurred, his hearing muffled, Death was sharp as it slithered through his paralyzed body. He felt like he was choking, his body felt like it was choking, his throat was constricting around Death. His heart tried to fold in on itself, trying to flee from Death.
Jaune couldn't succumb to Death, he had to be a Huntsmen. His heart pounded in his chest and Death stopped, he collapsed to his knees as Death left his body. A second passed as he realized what happened, his heart beated and Death left. He looked down to his chest, he was going to remove his armor, but when he saw his hands he stopped. White electricity danced across his fingers, over his palm and up his arms. He could feel his heart beat frantically, he realized what was really happening, his heart was spasming. After making sure he couldn't smell death anymore, he scrambled backwards before trying to stand.
A warm fire swallowed his heart, it was being healed because he was frying it. He tried to lower the voltage, and a few minutes later, he was able to bring it down to a buzz that traveled through his bones. It would probably be wise to test if it would save him from death again, but fear held him back, he would just have to trust his powers.
Jaune's heart beated slowly, it pumped ice through his veins, fortunately it didn't make him bleed from his open wounds. He looked up into the noon sky. It hadn't even been a single day since he reached Vale, and he already regretted arriving. He could always go to a different combat academy to become a Huntsmen. He sighed, he would have to punch himself again if he left Vale, he would almost certainly find more trouble and curse his past self for not commiting.
He took a few steps towards Verlet, when nothing happened, he rushed around him, he just wanted to forget about the whole encounter as he made his way back to The Club. They had sent someone to kill a drug dealer, so they probably weren't law-abiding citizens. It was a risk, considering their assassin had also beheaded him.
She took two pictures, they were probably her proof of completion, one for Verlet and one for me. She was the fancy suit man's partner, and he had argued with the boss. The boss didn't seem like the kind that would kill me. Hopefully, the girl was just a psycho and killed me for fun, then took a picture for fun. Maybe she didn't tell anyone she beheaded me. Besides, she didn't seem like the club going type.
Jaune had successfully convinced himself that it was a good idea.
The music was less loud, and sunlight drowned out the color escaping the windows. He took off his armor and his hoodie, he emptied his pockets into his bags then found a hiding place to put them. He took off his weapon belt and it joined the pile. He was unarmed, dressed in a white t-shirt, blue jeans and his shoes, and only carrying his Lien. In case he needed to escape, he wouldn't leave behind his belongings when he turned intangible and slipped through the floor.
He walked through the doors, the music and lights were turned down low enough that they only gave him a small headache, but one he could power through. The dance floor was empty, the whole building was empty, with the exception of twelve suit guys.
"Scram, we're closed." One of them told him.
Jaune could at least appreciate how his powers took away his nervousness. "I'm here for something else."
"We don't have anything else." Another one snapped and got up in his face.
Okay, so either they don't recognize me, or this is a different shift of goons. Anyway, they aren't going to tell a stranger about their illegal ongoings, I'll either have to join them and work myself up the chain of command, or start a fight and hope the boss comes to defend his turf, which will complicate a few things.
Jaune sighed, mainly in defeat, then he punched the goon in front of him, since he was never trained in hand to hand combat, he raised the voltage around his fist. The goon's body was harder than he had thought it would be, but pain wasn't a thing for him anymore, and the goon spasmed before falling to the ground, stunned.
The eleven other goons all drew out red swords, and rushed at him all at once.
He wanted to sigh again, the situation had escalated too fast, he had hoped his show of power would show them he was serious, instead they thought he was hostile. He dodged and ducked the sword slashes, he couldn't picture a future where he won this fight, sure he could survive, but not win. They had weapons, and potentially they had training. A red blade sliced across his arm, leaving a thin line, but the wound closed shortly after.
Oh yeah, I'm basically immortal, there's probably a limit, but I don't think these goons can push me past it.
He smiled, and dove into the fight, his arms were dancing with electricity, all he had to do to win was touch them. In nearly under a minute, ten bodies were scattered around the floor, the last goon was sticking a few feet away from him.
I'm winning! I just beat ten goons! I'm unstoppable! I'm immortal! I'm invincible!
He couldn't hold in his laughter, he was filled with joy, bordering on ecstasy. He laughed and laughed as he ran towards the last goon. His laughter was cut short, he was intercepted on his way to the goon. The joy that flooded his veins was immediately replaced with fire and pain. His vision was hazy and his ears were ringing.
Jaune rolled over, his arm felt displaced and his ribs felt dislodged. When his vision and hearing healed up, which was only after a few seconds, he looked around. Suit guys surrounded him, and the boss was standing in front of him with a rocket launcher aimed at his face. He stared down the barrel, then at the boss, then at the unconscious suit guys. The fight came back to his mind, he sighed. "Sorry. The maniacal laughter was just a side effect, I'm here for business."