A/N: HE'S BACK! THE ASSASSIN IS BACK! Duo Lon is coming back to KOF-and he looks AWESOME. And it gave me a little injection to finish this one-shot that I had started...weeks ago. Yeah. I've been having some trouble. Been a bit jaded...a little distant from writing. Maybe a bit frustrated. But I decided to dust off this piece after a bolt of inspiration to see if I could make something of it.
Anyone who has read any of the Blood Stained Hands story or the other material involving Duo Lon, knows that I headcanon him with a fondness of underground, raw and evil sounding black metal; how this happened would be involved in the story From the Dark Comes Focus, if you're curious(though it was first mentioned in his first appearance in the 'ficverse', in Nocturne.) SNK never told us what music he liked, and it just seemed to fit him, given his dark backstory.
So…why not a story where he gets to perform a job where he doesn't have to pretend to be a gangster, or otherwise go terribly undercover? Perhaps he gets hired to go after someone in a place where he could almost enjoy fitting in…
South Town had a lot of seedy heavy metal bars and clubs, and this was just one of many. Everyone knew the Pao Pao Café, but for every known entity there were several that went under the radar…and these were perfect for criminal activity.
While Geese Howard ran South Town with his iron fist, and Mr. Big tried to get what scraps he could from him, countless other second-tier gangs and organized crime syndicates vied for a piece of everything. There was also some bleed-over into Second Southtown as well.
These syndicates could sometimes be fairly well equipped, with a rather impressive resource pool. When one would start to pick up, others might follow suit, resulting in what could be rather violent wars, which could in turn cost a lot of lives…and not all of them deserving.
There was one brewing now, in fact, and that was the reason Duo Lon found himself in one of the larger heavy metal basement clubs. He did not make it a habit to visit South Town or its neighbor for fun-if he was here, it was because someone close to him was, or he was on business, like tonight.
It was sort of perfect, to be sure. The assassin loved raw, harsh underground metal as it was, and he was able to somewhat fit into the place, though his hair made him stand out. He was dressed down tonight, though-a faded shirt with an indecipherable band logo on it with the sleeves cut, and his usual black trousers and large boots. Being summer, it was hot, though the weather didn't particularly bother him either way, what with his training that allowed him some control of his body.
He wasn't sure of the client who hired him; one thing the Hizoku were taught was to not question who the client was too much-just as much as one needed to know. Their price matched what he asked, however-and the clan could ask quite a bit, Duo Lon himself essentially commanding whatever price he wanted. One could find a clan member if you looked close enough(well, out of the few left these days, anyway), if you knew where to look, and who to ask. Seth, the lead Agent, was able to do so back in the older tournament when he found Lin. It was no easy task, but generally speaking if one wanted to hire one…one would go out of one's way, given you were getting someone whose chances of failing a mission were slim to none.
In this case, a client paid him his agreed sum to remove the heads and a couple of lackeys of a certain syndicate that had been making waves around South Town, and not in a good way. They managed to stay out of the way of the big dogs like the Howard Connection, but were nasty nonetheless, and they were supplied by someone rather powerful, he could tell, given their weaponry.
Duo Lon did inquire why the man decided to pay so much to take out a syndicate that likely couldn't get past the Howard Connection, and he simply told him that two other groups that he paid to do it wound up dead. Indeed, the man had first underestimated them and tried a few thugs, who didn't do too well. Next, he tried a more skilled syndicate, but they seemed to be outgunned, so he decided to seek out someone who was both skilled at the art of stealth-even if he was in plain sight right now-and someone who would likely make the syndicate look like amateurs. He also let him know he'd be taking out the higher-ups during a meet, so any of their bigger armaments would likely not be coming into play.
He didn't ask much more; it didn't matter how armed the men were, or what they had.
Sipping his glass of absinthe-his preferred drink-he sat at the bar, his red eyes scanning the room. He had another job here before, where he had to fit in for some time before ending it; the job took almost a month to complete, counting the time he had to fit into the syndicate. This time, he was to take care of business as he saw fit; just make sure they were removed, and bring back proof to the man who hired him.
Standard, really.
Swirling the absinthe in the glass, he knew it wasn't fully real, as he could taste some sugar in it. Real absinthe did not contain sugar(unless it was put in by the person itself), nor fake coloring; only the herbs should do that. But, it was a decent facsimile, and strong. He knew most couldn't tell the difference, and a place like this was unlikely to be able to get the real deal. He had some at home, anyway.
Pausing to pack and light his pipe-he had brought his shorter one with him this time, as it was easier to carry without his coat-he exhaled a thin stream of smoke, the sweet smell blending with the scents of alcohol, somewhat sweaty heavy metal bar patrons, and the tell-tale old wood of the place. Staring at the slight red glow for a few moments, he continued to check out the room.
He had already scoped out the area and memorized the streets; he was quite familiar with South Town, anyway. When his targets would enter tonight-they were meeting people for something or other-he would simply trail them to a more out of the way spot of the city before taking them out. They likely wouldn't even know he was there until he wanted to be seen.
The song changed over, and he was happy to hear something he recognized. Dark and almost satanic sounding, the harsh vocals were nothing compared to what he heard beyond the death realm, yet they had helped focus him all those years ago. Absently rubbing at his tattooed arm for a moment, he saw a couple of people come up to the bar, get drinks, and hit their seats; no one in particular, he determined.
Tapping his long, hardened nails on the glass, he occasionally garnered a look, but not for long. There were far stranger people that visited South Town, after all, that the tall and eerie looking fighter did not really stand out all that much. He always gave off an intimidating air that made people unfamiliar with him sort of steer clear; he was polite, well-mannered, and quiet, but there was something that could be off about him. He didn't blame anyone; he supposed it came with the territory of living practically in-between worlds.
Looking around at the posters on the walls, he sort of liked this place. It went by the rather ominous name of "The Beast," of course referencing the number thereof. It was strictly a dive-club, with other people into such music, bikers, and shady types would congregate. Given the bartenders-the couple that were there-seemed to be the 'ask no questions' type, it was easy to conduct illicit deals.
All he knew was that his targets would be showing up here tonight, and he was grateful it was somewhere he enjoyed. Almost like he was getting paid to listen to music he enjoyed and have a few drinks.
He noticed everything going on around him. This was, of course, something he had learned to do long ago. Body language and the like. He had seen pictures of the men, but even if they tried to disguise himself, between what he remembered, what the man described, and those little tells, he would be able to pick them out.
The men at the pool table seemed innocuous. He could tell a couple others in the corner were scrappers, but nothing more. Some men toward the back looked a little more 'legit', to put it one way, but he didn't think they were the ones either…but something told him that he might train his eyes on that general area. That seemed to be where the more unsavory types might conduct their meetings. He noticed the bartenders didn't pay them any mind-the bartenders didn't own the place, and they were probably given orders to not bother anyone of those types, with the owner getting the under the table funds to 'rent' the rooms back there.
Such was how things were done in the underworld. He had taken part in undercover missions like that.
Duo Lon knew what at least three of the men looked like-at least, from the pictures he was shown, but he was also not so dense that he didn't expect some changes in outfits, hair, or the like. He was ready for anything, as per usual. Plus, he was told they may or may not be with a couple more people, of which he had no pictures of.
It took about a half hour more when a few men-whose descriptions were fitting toward what he had been shown-appeared from one of the back rooms. Three of them, and while they were dressed differently, they were certainly the men. Two others were with them, as the client had suspected.
This was all the assassin needed. He was now ready to tail them…once they left, that was-and then finish the job.
The group seemed to take their time leaving. They looked around, seeming somewhat perceptive, as if they had a feeling that someone would be after them, but no one seemed to notice him. He was a tattooed man with a shirt matching the music of the bar-besides his strange hair, he wasn't out of place with the rest of the denizens of South Town. Even though he wasn't from around there, it wasn't like South Town didn't see its fair share of visitors from all over the world, so nothing seemed out of place. They were looking for people who were more seemingly dressed like them-other members of the underworld, or at least recognizable faces.
Sipping more of his drink, he noticed they found one more person who had moved his way inside for a moment, and after a brief discussion, they left.
Taking a few moments to finish, he placed his glass back on the bar and finished his pipe, knocking it out into the ashtray before placing it carefully back into his back pocket. Leaving a generous amount of bills on the counter for the bartender as a tip, he stood and moved outside, no one caring about yet another face leaving.
Hitting a nearby alleyway, his keen eyes followed the small group as they turned down yet another street. They seemed indeed to be heading toward another hideout. Leaping up to one of the low-hanging scaffolds, he lightly moved down it, moving slower than normal so as to not make too much noise. The city had its own noises, of course, but he was still careful. He had been trained to maneuver as silently as possible through forests with dry leaves, so this was actually easier. His boots could make sounds on the metal and stone, but he was able to skulk around so they sounded faint.
The hot wind blew through the streets, causing trash to skitter all around. He still hadn't lost the guys yet, and he leapt across toward another building, this one on the other side of the narrow alley. He could hear them talk every so often, but could not quite make out what they were saying. Speeding up a bit, he felt where the wind was coming from, so he could maneuver downwind, which would allow the sound to travel to him more easily. Working with the wind was something that he was used to-he was crosswind from them, so they would not hear him, but it was likewise; being downwind made it both easier for him to hide and to be able to catch their words, even if it took him somewhat to a more difficult area of the alleys to traverse.
Indeed, within a few moments, he picked up some bits of discussion. It was faint, but he could hear most of it.
"Are you sure about this deal?"
"Yes. It's good. Lucrative. Trust me. Losing your stomach?"
"No. I don't care about that. I care about my ass."
"Well, don't worry about it. If they try anything, we got 'em."
Duo Lon couldn't really tell what they were talking about, but to be honest, learning what the deal was about wasn't quite in his contract. Whoever hired him probably already knew. Whatever it was, it sounded fairly dirty even for them, however, with one even questioning things, albeit for his own reasons.
Continuing along-slower than normal, though still far more quickly that someone that silent had a right to-he tried to see if they'd speak more. They seemed to be looking about, almost as if they were getting close to the place and they were trying to pinpoint it.
It didn't take them much longer to reach their apparent area. Duo Lon slunk off to the side and climbed quickly down, slipping into a nearby alleyway as he kept watching them.
"The fuck's wrong?" he heard one faintly say.
"Dunno. I feel weird."
"Pft. Your nerves again. You and your doom bullshit. Quit watching those conspiracy videos."
"Shut up. I'm fine. Just got a chill from the wind."
"In this heat? You're fuckin' weird."
Duo Lon was certain he hadn't been seen, but judging by their discussion, one had some strange sense of foreboding. Creeping more into place, he watched as the men went into what seemed to be a hideout after knocking; there would be one or two more inside, of course. His contact had told him as much.
It would be no trouble, armed or no. His contact said to leave no one involved alive, and that was the easy part for him. That it was the 'easy part' wasn't something he wasn't proud of necessarily, but it was a part of him. It had been a part of him for his entire life.
When raised as he was, you accept it, or you get overtaken by the very things that made you.
Breathing very slowly and shallowly-his slower metabolism was a useful, though creepy, side effect of some of his abilities-he moved closer toward the building once the men walked in. As he closed in, he scoped out the place, figuring the fastest way in and out. From what he could tell, he could slide in the second-floor window, neutralize any potential opposition if it happened to be there that he didn't happen to see in the bar, and then creep downstairs to finish off the rest.
However, the one thing that concerned him were potential escape routes. While he could move quickly and kill a man in a single blow, he could only be in so many places at once, even with his ability to phase through things. If anyone was alerted, they could escape. Usually in the event of one or two targets, there wasn't an issue, but with several inside, he didn't want to risk anyone escaping.
After a minute of consideration-all while he slowly closed in-he would sabotage both the side door and the alleyway door, before making sure the top window that he'd come through would be difficult to escape from.
His own escape wouldn't be an issue, given his…strange abilities.
Peering around from his hidden spot, he squinted inside the top window, his keen eyes noticing a single person upstairs, shadowed around. Nodding to himself, he climbed down the side, and moved toward the back door first, checking it out.
There were several ways to sabotage this. He could brute-force it, of course-his frightening strength could easily snap the doorknob off from the inside, but he feared that might be a bit loud, and he'd have to get in first to do so. Any noise risked someone taking off from the front.
Formulating a quick plan, he would scrounge up some tools he could use to sabotage the lock once he got indoors. Thin wire or probes would be enough to do the trick. He would scale the side, get in through the top window, neutralize the man upstairs, and make sure that one exit was potentially blockaded before moving downstairs, sabotaging that door, and quickly making for the front room…where he'd be able to take out the rest before they could leave, as he'd be able to block that door at that point.
Heading into the alleyway, the various bins and scattered refuse was bound, he figured, to let him procure something. He had a couple of picks on hand, but those were for opening the locks rather than sabotaging them. He wished he had some of his incense on hand that could put people to sleep, but he normally reserved that for strikes where there were extra people whom he did not need, nor want, to kill. This job, he had ascertained, he'd not need the stuff.
Finding a few useful items, he headed over to the door to begin his work in earnest.
Guarding the second floor was boring.
With absolutely no one up here and only one window-which was simply not going to have anyone coming into it due to its location-there wasn't much of a need. He wondered if the rest of them had gotten mad that he had some strange premonitions coming into this thing, so they sent him up here while the rest took care of the meeting.
Truth be told, he still had it, and he couldn't explain why. He had been jumpy for the past half hour. It felt like every creak of the hideout would make his heart skip a beat. He had drank quite a bit the night before, and he had wondered if it was some leftover hangover, coupled with a bad night's sleep, that made him feel this way.
The sound of another creak snapped his thoughts back, and he peered down the empty hallway.
Oh, you're being ridiculous, he thought to himself. He knew the group would be done soon. There were also six total here-himself and the five downstairs. Everyone was armed. It wasn't like anything was going to happen.
Despite the heat, he suddenly felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, and a shiver went through him. Almost like the temperature dropped in the room suddenly.
Swallowing hard-and feeling his heartbeat raise considerably, to the point where he could feel it in his ears, he decided to take a step forward toward the stairs to call down. In the process, he peeked into the room with the window.
It was closed.
Shivering again, the now somewhat terrified man-for reasons that he could not figure out, turned back around…
…to come face to face with a pale man who had seemingly appeared through the wall.
Trying to shriek, the sound died in his throat as Duo Lon-his face a stone mask-wrapped an iron hand around his neck and squeezed, before quickly twisting. He then set the now-dead man down on the spot, some blood dripping from his mouth onto the ground from the violent breaking of the man's neck.
Duo Lon then carried the corpse into the other room, having decided to make his way inside through the wall so as to not alert the rest. With the room locked up, he then decided he would simply head down the stairs and take the others out quickly and viciously on the spot.
He only needed one hit and one down. And he could keep them from escaping from the front, now that the back door was sealed. He figured it might get bloody, but there was no particular clause on how clean the job had to be or not. Occasionally a client would have a very specific request-make it look accidental, send a message but keep it clean, or so on. While Duo Lon did not go out of his way to shed a lot of blood, in a toe-to-toe assassination it was sometimes inevitable. So long as he did not have to fight through dozens of men, he was generally able to leave the place in relatively decent condition afterward. Some of his earliest had been clumsier and quite messy, not knowing his own strength. Once he had learned to respect and control the abilities blessed(or cursed) upon him, things changed.
Kill them and send a message, was the primary request this man had. There had been times where his clients requested more...grisly proof, and a few of those battles-or aftermaths-had gone rather bloody. What they wanted was none of his particular business, though, and he would still do what he was paid to do.
The assassin still had the skull from his first kill on his bedroom shelf at home, as was traditional for the necromantic-tuned members of the clan, so it wasn't like it bothered him.
He started to move down the stairs quietly. They were carpeted, and he had no issue gliding down them fairly silently. He heard the talking grow louder; none of them seemed to have any clue what had happened upstairs, judging by the conversation being about business only.
Pausing by the door to listen, he could tell one was very close to it. He could drop him instantly and then move swiftly enough to down a second, and then likely have to fight the last three.
As he heard one of them cough, he reached down, slid open the door and before the men could even register, the tall shadow slid up behind the closest man and twisted his head around on his neck before he could even turn around. He slumped lifelessly onto the table, and before his heart stopped the assassin was face to face with another, his deadly hand tearing out the man's throat.
Two men were dead before the other three were even capable of reacting, the surprise was so great. One minute they were discussing their nefarious deal, and the next, they were facing down what might as well have been Death himself, for all the moments they had left to them.
A wiry fellow on the right was quick enough on his feet that he was able to leap up and almost clear a gun from his holster; however Duo Lon lashed out in an incredibly fast and powerful roundhouse kick to the side of his head, cracking it and separating his spine as his head fell at a sickening angle, blood pouring from his mouth. A slower man was quickly neutralized by a palm thrust to a straight-hand slice to his neck, and that left only one.
He said nothing. There was no need to interrogate-he planned on searching the corpses when he was finished, but for now, the job was not finished. He could tell the man was debating to draw a weapon or to try to leave…but he made that decision for him, quickly utilizing his ability to move through the death realm to appear behind him, his powerful hand severing his spine at the base of his neck. He fell forward, face down…and the place went silent.
With nary a mark on him, Duo Lon set to work rifling through the bodies for proof to bring back to his client. Any wallets or jewelry went with him, and in the process, he looked through them, having not had specific instructions not to.
He liked to do this to make sure whoever he killed had no strings attached to them.
After taking a few moments to pile the corpses into the back room-his client said he would handle the cleanup-he gazed around, fairly minimal bloodshed caused. The worst had been the man who took his roundhouse full on-his heavy boot had cracked his temple before breaking his neck-and the one who's throat was torn out, though even then he had left people in far worse shape than this.
Taking his time to wipe his hands off, he started checking the goods. The IDs on them seemed to be likely fake-Duo Lon knew that criminals were likely to want to hide their identities, if they were smart. Some money, some slips of paper, one with an address, which he took care to keep safe to give to his client…though not before filing it away in his memory.
After collecting the rest of the things-including a lighter, which was made of steel and had initials etched in it that he liked the look of, that he might ask his client if he needed it or not-he started making his way back, taking the high road after making sure the place was locked up tight.
It wasn't that he was worried about the authorities, but he was a professional.
Leaping from building to building between the narrow alleyways, the Hizoku assassin's mind sorted through everything he had seen there. The address that had been on the paper somehow sounded familiar, but he wasn't sure how; he felt like he might need to do a little sniffing around after all.
Plus the initials on the lighter. Did it belong to his target, or to someone else connected?
Eventually reaching the apartment complex he was to meet his client at for the rest of the payment-after a quick pause to wash his hands in a bar bathroom during the twenty or so minute journey-he made his way up the elevator and stood at the end, deciding to glance at the lighter one more time and rub his chin. Looking at his watch, he would take the stairs to the penthouse, where his client was waiting…three floors up.
Slowly making his way toward the door, he wondered where this all would lead…if anywhere.
It didn't matter to him. A job was a job. He was just curious to know if his client knew anything else.
Or was hiding something from him.
He hoped-for the client's sake-that it wasn't the latter.
A/N: Cliffhanger? Or Not? Maybe it's just a one-shot, we'll see, I guess.
South Town has a lot of weird gangs about, and someone managed to pay for him to take down some nasty individuals. Who it was that managed to get enough money, we'll never know-but Duo Lon doesn't really ask. They had it coming, and that was enough for him.
I had done one story where he went undercover(A Night's Work), and another where, while he wasn't undercover, he was the target instead…which…well, might go read Reversal for that. I decided to do a more straightforward job this time. Spying, stealth, and slaying.
Some more Headcanon Notes, in particular for first time readers(those familiar with my stuff can skip these.)
-We don't know what Duo Lon looks like under the coat, but I always headcanoned him with tattoos, because they seemed like they'd fit him.
-The powers of the Hizoku seem quite…varied and open. While some are like, elemental we know(Fire, etc), Duo Lon always seemed to have weird body control stuff, along with some necromantic powers. We know he's strong enough to wear nearly twenty pounds on his head all the time(hair plus the hair weights, part of his official character sheet), and he's capable of restraining an angry Shen casually(in a team story), and he can dissolve his body and reform it and teleport short distances(in game)…so I just tried to play with stuff the best I could to figure stuff out, without making them *too* outlandish beyond what they already are(and they are pretty out there.)
-A couple things we also know from team stories-he was said to have the ability to find his way around a city pretty much instantly, with an almost photographic memory of being able to memorize layouts, and he doesn't question who hires him much, as the Hizoku were taught not to.
-True absinthe indeed does not contain sugar nor artificial coloring, but it's not very well regulated. Finding the real stuff is difficult.
Anyway, hope you enjoyed. I know I've done a few of these stories with him, but I try to change up his scenario a bit each time. Just trying to get back into the saddle with something simple and see if I can keep some inspiration going from this current announcement.