The Sins of the Forefathers

Act the First: A Beacon of Hope

Author's Note: New chapter, woo. Jaune just can't rest. Not yet. So far, you haven't seen much of what he can do- and you still won't for at least two-to-three chapters.
Hope I can keep you interested until then.

Read, Review, and I hope you enjoy.

Chapter Three: All-Nighter

I collapsed on the floor of my apartment - after putting my pizza and energy drink on the kitchen counter, of course. I didn't want to buy an energy drink - the liquid carbs would be killer on me, but I needed the caffeine. I wouldn't be sleeping tonight.

After giving myself a few minutes to rest, I got up and brought my laptop out, turning it on and connecting to the apartment's wifi. I opened up a proxy and then brought the pizza over on to the table.

I then rummaged around my backpack and brought out the things I had gained from the encounter, double checking each item and making a mental list of what to do with them.

First of all, the four Scrolls I had obtained from Junior Xiong's men. If nothing else, they could be useful as spares, a quick source of Lien, or, with a bit of work, a carrier for some computer viruses. Right then, however, I was hoping that they'd lead me to whoever called in the hit on me.

The two red machetes… eh, not my style, but they were constructed well enough. I'd place them around the apartment where I could grab them quickly in a pinch.

The guns would be incredibly useful. I'd keep one on me at all times, and one in the apartment. But where to put it? I'd think about it another time. I had six ammunition clips total… Combat effectiveness on the go is paramount. Five with me at all times, and one in the gun that stays home.

I loaded all six clips with the ammunition I had with ten rounds each, leaving me with eighteen extra bullets. I could save them for later, when I had spent a clip, or I could crack them open and use the Fire Dust inside for something else. Whatever, that would come later.

Back to the scrolls… I'd need my laptop to crack their security measures. I brought them over to the table, and grabbed my Scroll charger. I removed the wall-outlet dongle and plugged the USB end into the laptop, plugging the other end into Kayle's phone. I then opened up a program on my computer that would release a virus through the charger wire, which would destroy the Scroll's security measures. It was high grade stuff- and it used up a ton of RAM, so I'd basically have to restart my old computer each time I did it with each Scroll.

While I waited for the virus to do its work, I ate a few slices of the pizza and checked my texts. Juli had texted back from this morning:

Wow J, that was fast! I suppose it's to be expected though. You've always been self reliant. Anyway, everyone's doing fine. Good luck with the Beacon exams. Can't wait to hear from you tonight. 3 from Everyone

I felt bad knowing that I wouldn't be able to spend a lot of time with a call tonight, since I had to find out who was after me. Still, they deserved to hear from me, so I texted Juli again.

Hey Juli, sorry I'm texting back so late. Things were hectic at work and I had to close up. I'll text you again tomorrow. And I promise I'll call tomorrow night.

With that done, I did some reading on Dust chemistry- especially Fire Dust. The primer I had bought organized itself in sections according to the four primary Dust types, and then each section was further divided into chapters of increasingly technical information. It started out with a recap of common knowledge about each Dust type, and then went into each types physical properties before really delving into their chemical compositions and reactions.

Considering that all I had on hand was Fire Dust, I naturally focused my reading on that section. I glossed over the introductory parts, and read up on some of the common chemical reactions with Fire Dust. As one might expect, the vast majority of Fire Dust reactions caused either an ignition of Fire or an explosion appropriate to the amount of Fire Dust on hand. However, a few chemicals exist that can render Fire Dust inert- though it has absolutely zero use at that point, aside from maybe serving as a paperweight. Naturally, their use is a safety method of last resort for companies that use Fire Dust regularly.

I'd have to do more reading later, however- the virus had done its work, and Kayle Cassidy's phone was unlocked.

"What do you mean, you can't get his information?"

Junior shrugged, before returning to cleaning glasses behind his bar. "I mean it's above my pay grade, Cinder. I talked to my guys in Atlas, and none of them even know that a 'Jaune Arc' exists, or have any records about his supposed family members. If he hadn't actually killed four of my guys, even I'd think you were making him up. More realistically, he's in with the Atlesian government or something, and that's outside my reach. Sorry, but I can't help you with him."

Cinder nodded solemnly and thought hard about her next moves. Jaune Arc was a ghost- which meant his hypothetical connections to high-ranking Atlesian officials were likely more than just a theory. However, what those connections were, would be the ultimate determination of his value and threat potential. Considering his skill, despite his young age, it was likely that he had been trained since his youth to serve as a sleeper agent for the Atlesian government. So he was likely highly nationalistic to Atlas, but a skilled liar. If she could find out more about him, she might be able to convince him to join her, or at least aid in her planned attacks on Beacon and Vale at large.

But… That would be risky. She had no idea if the personality he'd shown her so far had been genuine, so she couldn't even make predictions of his behavior from that. Sure, he went so far as to get a job and apartment in the city, but for all she knew, they could be part of his plan for some deep cover operation. If she wanted to know more about him, she'd have to either rely on Roman, or make further contact with Jaune himself.

Cinder nodded, a plan forming in her mind. But first, she'd have to reconcile the cost of Junior's men. "I understand. Thank you for your attempt, Junior. You may keep the advance I gave you for the information as an apology for losing your men."

Junior nodded. "I appreciate it. Is there anything else I can do for you this evening?"

Cinder almost shook her head, but remembered her earlier conversation with Mercury and Emerald. "What do you know about-" She lowered her voice, "Jack the Ripper?"
Junior stopped in his tracks for a moment before firmly placing the glass he was cleaning back under the bar. "Unless you've got a death wish, don't get involved with him. He's outside my pay grade- and considering what you've paid me so far, he's definitely outside your ability to hire. He is, bar none, the deadliest Assassin in the world. I heard he got his nickname by ripping a Bushi limb from limb with his bare hands, and that he once killed a Valese Councilman - and four guards! - with nothing but a fountain pen."

"Do you know his last name? Does he have any family? Where was he last seen?"

Junior shook his head. "No, and none that I've heard of. Though considering his reputation for womanizing, it wouldn't surprise me if he had a few bastard kids roaming around Remnant. Last I heard of him, he pulled off a big assassination in Atlas - an SDC family member, I think - before making off with about three shipping containers worth of Dust and related paraphernalia. Since then, he's gone off the grid. No one's seen or heard from him in two years."

"I've heard that his last name may be Arc," Cinder supplied Junior with the bit of information she had learned from Mercury earlier.

Junior scoffed. "Lots of people think his last name is lots of things- sometimes, you get Mistralian martial art schools that spread the rumor that he's related, makes them look good to the underworld. No one knows who he really is, or if Jack is even his real name."

"Is it possible he's died?"

"Definitely not. If he died, the whole world would feel the effects. Guardian activity against the underworld would jump, and the nations, even Vale, would probably start enacting harsher anti-Assassin laws."

"You seem to hold him in high esteem."

"Look, if there was only one thing I'd tell you about Jack, it's this: Most of what I know about Jack the Ripper is from my parents, who were in charge of the business back when Jack was still highly active."

"Highly active? Was his activity in decline before his disappearance?"

"Yep. About seventeen or eighteen years ago, he stopped taking on so many jobs. No one knows why, but the rumors that suggested he was just getting old stopped being spread when a couple of Rank 3's and A2's wound up dead in a fight with him. That was about ten years ago. He kept declining after that, and two years ago he dropped out of the race entirely. But I'll tell you, if he was dead, like actually dead, you'd know it. Even if you hadn't heard of him before."

"If he's so powerful, how is he so unknown?"

"Well seeing as you're a rookie to our life, it makes sense that you wouldn't know. Hell, some of my own rookies think I'm making him up when I talk about him. But trust me, ask anyone who's been in this business for at least ten years, and I guarantee they'll all have the same opinion. Take it from me, Jack the Ripper is the strongest A1 rank in the world. Hell, I bet he'd even give old Ozpin a run for his money."

Cinder blinked. Give Ozpin a run for his money? Well, it made sense for someone like Junior, uninitiated to the truth, to underestimate Ozpin's power. Still, if this 'Ripper's' reputation was truly so great, it may be worth her time to investigate, whether for use in her upcoming missions or later down the line serving her Mistress. "I see. Thank you for telling me what you know. Would you happen to have any private rooms available?"

"I've had your usual room reserved ahead of time. Would you like anything sent up?"

"I'll have the salad of the day, and as for a drink… Surprise me, would you? Oh, and whatever my apprentices want as well."

Junior nodded. "Understood. Will you be expecting Roman tonight as well?"

"Yes, but he can pay for himself."

Junior chuckled. "I'll let you know when he arrives."

Cinder gave a curt nod in appreciation and then turned away from the bar, heading towards her private room. Emerald and Mercury, who had been watching the proceedings as well as the club from opposite ends of the bar, followed closely after her. Apparently Mercury had been chatting with Junior's bodyguards, the two young women in red and white dresses.

Cinder didn't think much of them- or really, anyone in the room. She wasn't confident that she could best them all if it came to it - she knew that she could. That was what she had been taught to do.

…

Once they arrived at the private room, Cinder sat down in a seat and her apprentices sat in the seats in front of her.

"Report," Cinder said.

Emerald began, ever eager to please her teacher. "Junior's men are pretty standard for a civilian club. They'd probably be able to handle the average drunkard, but even if Mercury or I had to fight them alone, we could probably make do."

"And what makes you think so?

Emerald breathed deeply, preparing her analysis. "They're well equipped, but poorly trained. Pretty much everyone out on the main floor moves like fresh recruit or someone with less than a year's experience in Junior's shadier business. They swagger around like they're strong, but lack the ability to be hiding any real strength behind their pretend power. He probably keeps his capable men in reserve for some of his actual operations and freelance jobs. The only people on the floor we'd have trouble with are Junior himself, and his two bodyguards… the girls, the ones in red and white dresses."

"Melanie and Miltia Malachite," Mercury supplied. After both Emerald and Cinder looked at him in surprise, he shrugged. "I talked to them. They're nice girls. Melanie wants to start her own fashion line, and Miltia is attending the local community college. Apparently she wants to go to med school."

Emerald blinked, even more surprised than before. "Right... them. They seem… relatively, well trained and experienced. It wouldn't surprise me if Junior took them on his personal missions. They had their eyes on you and Junior, but also watched me even as they spoke to Mercury. Based on how they move, I'd assume they're martial artists, like Mercury, but nowhere near his level."

Mercury nodded. "Definitely not. Miltia- that's the one in the red dress, she focuses on using her hands in combat, with claw-type weapons. Melanie uses bladed shoes for kicking techniques. They've been practicing for a long time, but they don't focus on their combat skills as much as their dreams. I'd give the both of them thirty seconds total, tops."

"And what of Jaune Arc?"

Her apprentices were taken aback by the question. "What?" Mercury asked.

"We've established that Junior is of no threat to us. Roman and Neopolitan… we don't know enough about either of their combat abilities to really gauge their strength. But we've seen Jaune Arc in action, and I want you to discuss whether or not he'd pose a threat to us."

Mercury shook his head. "Definitely not. He took out, what, three of Junior's rookies and one actually capable guy? We could do that with our eyes closed."

"Yeah. I mean, come on Cind- Ma'am," Emerald corrected herself quickly when she caught Cinder's glare. "He's pretty impressive for a civilian, but he's still just a civilian."

Cinder sighed. "You two haven't been paying attention as well as you could have. I know that I'm the one in charge here, but that doesn't mean you can just slack off on your training and expect me to keep track of everything. If you ever caught something strange that I didn't see and didn't report it to me because you didn't think it mattered, then for all you know that would mean the difference between success and failure."

"So what do you know that we don't?" Mercury asked.

"You know the same things I do - you just haven't connected the dots. I first informed you that Jaune Arc had been on the flight with me from Atlas, and he informed me that it was his first time in Vale. He seemed unfamiliar with the streets and had to purchase a map and tourist guide when on the run from Junior's men. Now, on the assumption that that wasn't a show of ignorance because he sensed us watching him and was intentionally misleading us - which is a safe assumption, considering the safety measure I had Emerald enact - then he is genuinely unfamiliar with the streets of Vale, and came up with his inverse-ambush tactic on the spot while running away from four men. That sort of quick thinking, combined with his tight, efficient, and cold-blooded show of combat skills, implies that he has military training and experience. He may have even been trained in Atlas S.E.R.E. techniques, in the city and perhaps the country or other forms of terrain as well. And when you add in his effective interrogation of Kayle Cassidy and his methodical clean-up procedure afterwards, then that suggests a further skill set."

"Military intelligence," Mercury furrowed his brow in thought, now beginning to connect the dots himself. "A sleeper agent?"

Cinder nodded. "Yes. That was my assumption as well. Which means that although he may not be able to fight on par with Guardians of Assassins of our caliber, his tactical and strategic knowhow may be of some use to us."
"Wait, hold on," Emerald interrupted. " 'Sear'? I get what your point is, but I've never heard of that before."

"Ess-Ee-Are-Ee. 'S.E.R.E.' It stands for Survival, Evasion, Resistance, and Escape. It's an elite military training program that Atlas uses to train black-ops groups, like Specialists or intelligence agents, techniques about how to survive in enemy territory when on the run from them."

"Okay, but how does that relate back to whether or not he's a threat to us?"

"If he's a sleeper agent sent from Atlas to Vale, then that means he's likely here to destabilize the city, and further, the country. If that's so, then he could be useful to us, as our long-term goals would coincide with his. However, just like Roman and Neopolitan, even if he agrees to cooperate with us to a shared end goal, there's no telling if or when he may betray us to his own country. In which case, we would have to eliminate him- so I ask you again, what do you think of Jaune Arc's combat capacity?"

Emerald and Mercury took a moment to breathe and process what they had been told. Each of them attempted to recall Jaune's race through the city and his confrontation with Junior's men in as much detail as possible, seeking any sort of small detail that might influence their final judgement.

Finally, Mercury spoke. "Based strictly on what we currently know, then if we fought on even ground, spontaneously, I think we'd wipe the floor with him. However,"

"If he learned about us," Emerald continued, "our fighting styles, our skills and especially our Semblances, and had time to plan and obtain resources to combat us, then he might edge out a victory against one of us alone. But he wouldn't take us down without getting hurt, and even if there were only two of us against him, I don't think any plan he made would be able to account for the extra manpower."

After a moment, Cinder smiled and nodded her approval. "Excellent. It took some prodding, but you reached the same conclusion that I did. However, much like with Roman, such considerations may not be necessary if we could convince him to ally himself with us permanently."

"Ally who with what now?"

Cinder, Emerald, and Mercury all jumped up and assumed their combat stances when they realized the room had been compromised, only to groan or sigh when they realized it was just Roman.

"Roman?!" Cinder yelled. "How did you get in here? Junior was supposed to let us know when you'd be here!"

Roman shrugged. "Yeah, well, he forgot. Oh, your salad is ready, Cinder." With that, the door opened normally and Neo walked in, pushing a large rolling tray of food. A small assortment of party appetizers - mozzarella sticks, spicy chicken wings, garlic bread, and the like - adorned the tray, along with Cinder's salad and her small glass of alcohol.

Cinder groaned internally. Her apprentices hadn't ordered, so it seemed that Roman just ordered for the group. She could only hope that Roman would be covering this, as she had asked Junior.

Sensing her ire, Roman spoke up. "Don't worry about it boss, I covered this one. Filched a few rich guys on my way over here."

"Aren't you supposed to be hiding from the authorities?"

"You'd be surprised how easy it is to do that when you can change your appearance at will."

Cinder knew what he was doing - trying to guide her thinking into believing that his Semblance was some sort of transformation. But she knew better - it was likely a side effect of his apprentice's Semblance. Still, no reason to tell him it was useless bait.

"Anyways," Roman said as he picked up a plate of garlic bread. Behind him, Neo closed the door to the room. "What were you guys talking about? Ally ourselves with who?"

Cinder thought for a moment before deciding to move forward with her investigation. "Jack the Ripper," she said, testing the waters.

"Pfft- ahahahahahahah-" Roman began laughing in Cinder's face, only to stop when she narrowed her eyes in anger. He coughed quickly before speaking, "Cut the bullshit, Cinder. If you know about him, you know he's off and ghosted himself outta the business. No one's seen him for-"
"Two years," Cinder finished for him. "Very well. Then how about another name?"

"Sure, who?" he said before popping a piece of bread into his mouth.

"We've identified him as a potential Atlesian sleeper agent, someone who may be interested in destabilizing Vale. If he is, we could use him and his expertise to make the tactical planning and execution of our missions go more smoothly."

"Oh, the guy you sent Junior's men to kill? What was his name, anyway?"

"Jaune Arc."

Roman promptly dropped the plate of food he was holding, and it shattered on the floor, spraying bread crumbs and shards around the area. His face was contorted in clear shock and incredulity, as though he couldn't believe what he had heard. Beside him, Neo had similarly been shocked by the name, her hands now covering her mouth and her eyes wide in what seemed to be fear.

"I'm sorry," Roman coughed after swallowing heavily, "but WHO THE FUCK NOW?"

"Dammit!" I swore, pounding my fist on the kitchen table. Kayle Cassidy's phone had been completely worthless, along with the rest of the phones I'd taken from Junior's goons. They had contained nothing more but my name and a picture of my face. The picture of my face was especially disconcerting, as I could recognize the background of the image as belonging to the area behind the counter of Tukson's Book Trade. Which meant that whoever wanted me dead:

-Knew where I worked

-Probably knew where I currently lived

-Was skilled at tracking and evasion techniques; much better than Junior's own men, if they could get such a recent picture of me without my noticing

-Was probably one of the three customers from yesterday; no, that didn't make sense, Junior's men were watching me long before those three women came in, and Adam Taurus was the only one to come in the day before once I started working there

-Had to have taken the picture on my first day of work, somehow

-Potentially had some very high grade technology if they were able to take such a clear picture through the store's glass window

-Potentially had an invisibility Semblance, or something among the lines of sense manipulation or illusions, but the odds of such a thing were slim

-Could... probably have killed me already if they were capable of taking the picture without my knowing?

The last line in my mental list made me pause. Yeah, that was true, I thought. If they could get such a clear picture of me without my knowledge, especially such a recent one, then they certainly could have killed me themselves. So why hire some freelancers to do it? Did they want a scapegoat to blame on my death? Did they underestimate me? But if they want me dead, they clearly know who I am, so why would they hire amateurs? Maybe… they hired the cheapest muscle available fully knowing I would kill them, in the hopes that my doing so would incite the gang's retaliation so they would kill me for free? That idea seemed needlessly complex and highly unreliable.

Do they even know who I am? Did another Assassin hire cheap help with the idea that either Junior's men would take care of it for them, or at least they'd get to see what I'm capable of? I didn't notice anyone watching from the rooftops, but I did hear something during my combat focus… but that's another unreliable lead. Even if someone had been watching me take care of Junior's men, they'd be long gone by now. And if someone had been watching, they could have just jumped in and killed me after the fact when I was busy dealing with the bodies.

What did they stand to gain from my death? If they knew who I was, they probably knew who my dad was, so they probably knew not to fuck with him, or me by extension. Unless they deliberately wanted to draw my dad out? I hadn't heard news of him since before I got into the detention center, so maybe he was in hiding again? But no one who knows about our situation is stupid enough to attempt that sort of gambit.

So… what? Did they just not know who I am? If that was the case, why hire these people to kill me?

I shook my head and put down the energy drink before going over to the sink and splashing some water on my face. Damn, when the caffeine hits, it really fucking hits. My mind was racing, but going nowhere fast. All I knew for certain was that someone placed a hit on me, and that it came from someone who hired Junior Xiong, who ran a local club called the Just Right.

A club... I wonder if they were open this late?

…

The rain had stopped long ago, but the streets were still wet with the runoff. I avoided a puddle as I ran, before stopping at my destination.

I stood in front of the entrance to the Just Right. It seemed to be a multi-level complex, as a dull light could be seen glowing through several floors worth of the unassuming exterior. From the outside, it appeared as nothing more than a common building, with arched windows patterning the walls from top to bottom. This side of the building held a single entrance that led directly into the club. An entrance on the other side allowed access to the other floors.

From the club entrance, the dance floor opened out directly in front of guests. On the left side of the room spanned a rather impressively lengthy bar, able to accomodate a significant number of people. On the right, stairs led up to private rooms where people could hold meetings or personal parties.

Naturally, I had done a measure of research before coming here - I wasn't about to just charge in blindly and fight everyone in the club for no reason.

Junior Xiong owned the club, and while I couldn't find anything saying so, I assumed that either he or his organization owned the property as a whole. It would make sense - that way, whatever illegal activities were performed there would be secure from any accidental civilian involvement. He himself liked to run the bar, and as a matter of fact had a degree in mixology. His house DJ liked to wear different animal heads while playing, for some reason, and he had two business associates who helped him run the clerical side of the business, Miltiades and Melanie Malachite.

On the other side of things, it was incredibly likely that everyone he had on staff was at least somewhat involved with his criminal business. I didn't know much about Junior himself, but he was probably a capable fighter. As for Melanie and Miltiades… bodyguards, I would assume, so certainly capable in their own right.

Equipment level? If the rest of his club was as well kitted as the four men I had killed, then a full frontal assault would be suicide for someone of my skill level. No, I'd have to be cautious about this. But I didn't have the skills or necessary equipment to try and sneak in… so I'd have to go through the front, but not in an offensive maneuver. No, I'd be invited in.

A bouncer guarded the door, turning away common folk trying to get in - this time of night, the club shut down for regular customers and only allowed "VIP's" in… I suppose the process to become one was rather self explanatory for those in the know of Junior's 'side business'.

I walked up to him, and preempted his words by giving him Kayle Cassidy's ID, as well as those of the other three men I had killed. As he looked over them, his eyes widened in understanding and he glared back at me.

"Tell Junior that Jaune Arc would like a word with him in private," I said.

…

It took a few minutes, but I was finally let into the building. After a quick pat-down, in which they found nothing because I didn't bring anything with me, one of Junior's goons let me into the club and oh my god, did they all really wear the same uniform both in the civilian part of the club and while doing criminal work? What the fuck was Junior thinking? It made sense for the club workers to have a uniform to distinguish them from customers, but why would he make them do their other work in the same uniform? How has he not been caught yet? The fuck?

I shook my head to clear it. Obviously the caffeine was still in my system.

The club itself seemed nice, I suppose. If it weren't for the fact that the employees probably had it out for me, it was the kind of place I wouldn't mind spending time on a weekend.

I would absolutely tear up that dance floor.

In any case, the goon I was following motioned for me to keep up, and I followed him up the right staircase towards the private rooms. He led me to the far back, towards a door at the end of the walkway.

Once I got in, it was clear that this was Junior's private office. The area up here behind the DJ booth hosted a large mirror, and on this side, it was evident that it was a one-way mirror, as from this end, the club as a whole was clearly visible from Junior's desk, situated at the back end of the room. Behind the desk, a large metal bat - presumably Junior's weapon - hung on a rack.

He sat on a comfortable looking leather chair, which seemed to be built to stand such that even a tall person wouldn't touch the ground while sitting on it. In contrast, the chair in front of it seemed to have particularly short legs. In essence, the arrangement was designed to give Junior a sense of psychological superiority by having him sit higher than most people he'd meet with.
How plebeian. It was such a basic tactic that I'm pretty sure even a child would recognize this blatant attempt at ego stroking. Honestly, Junior seemed less and less capable the more I learned about him. I didn't know what his Rank was, but it couldn't be any better than A6. And even then, that was just me embellishing him because he had a rather large organization backing him up. I didn't know anything about his actual combat skill.

The rest of the room was pretty barren, which was honestly respectable for a crime boss. Normally a civilian might imagine that Junior would stuff his office full of stolen trophies like artworks or expensive paintings, or some other thing relating to a hobby of his. But he probably reserved such luxuries for his private rooms. It was just his desk, a chair, a few filing cabinets for documents, and a large oval table with chairs arrayed around it- for meetings, I supposed. The meeting table was covered in an assortment of legal pads and writing utensils. I wasn't sure if he had just had a meeting or was just using it to lay things out to make visualization easier. Didn't matter to me, though.

As we passed the meeting table, I filched a steel-barrelled pen off the top of it. I hadn't brought any of the weapons I had. After all, even if his men were incompetent, there was no point in risking the loss of the weapons I had gained through a pat down.

As we approached the desk, I hid the pen behind my left hand.

"Jaune Arc," Junior said. "I'm Hei Xiong, but as you know, everyone calls me Junior. Please, take a seat."

"I'll stand, thanks." I replied.

He nodded before motioning with his hand and sending his lackey away. Considering that I'd killed four of his men, he was being awfully casual with his safety. Admittedly, none of them had Aura, but being alone with me was definitely a risk to his safety, unless there was some hidden area where more men were just waiting for a signal to jump out and defend their boss. Though considering his inadequacy up to this point, I doubted he had such an elaborate safety measure established.

After his goon left, Junior reached under his desk. He pressed something and a soft hum emanated from the floor before he remarked, "There. Now we won't be heard."

"A soundproofing system? Expensive stuff."

Junior shrugged, not even looking up from his paperwork. He signed something with his right hand before replying, "You need it sometimes, with clients like mine. Never know when anyone might be listening… Anyways, what do you want?"

I raised an eyebrow. "The man who killed four of your men comes to meet you in person, and you don't care?"

"If I cared about every man who died working for me, I wouldn't get much done. We're criminals- danger comes with the trade. But I can guess that you didn't come here just to question my ability to manage my men, so what do you really want?"

"Nothing too hard. I just want a name."

"A name?" He barely seemed to register my presence. Well, I suppose after his little chair ploy failed, it was all he had left as far as psychological tactics go. Still, he could only go so far by playing dumb.

I rolled my eyes. "Yes. The name of whoever put out the hit on me."

Junior looked up at me. "If you're at all acquainted with how we do things, you know that that's not something I can do for you. If I just gave out information on my clients, I wouldn't be in business for long."

"Would you be willing to sell that information?"

Junior scoffed. "Please. Money can be lost and regained, but customers who trust you are far harder to come by. Any information regarding my clientele is not for sale."

Well. A crime boss with a code of honor. Call the presses, we have a miracle!

…

Yeah, whatever. I supposed Junior was a better businessman than criminal at any rate. He was smart enough to recognize that a loyal consumer base was more important than short-term profits, but that didn't help me any. I had run out of ways to persuade him to do this peacefully. If I knew more about him, or had more time to research him, then that might not have been the case, but… I didn't have that sort of luxury. Time to switch tactics.

I extended my right hand towards him. "Well then, Junior Xiong, I appreciate you taking time out of your evening to meet with me. While this was a… contentious first meeting between us, I hope that in the future we might meet under more profitable circumstances."

If nothing else, Junior was a businessman. The possibility of turning a former enemy into a regular customer was something pretty much any businessman would seek out, within reason of course. Still, even though I'd killed four of his men, I was an anomaly in the underworld, a new face in Vale. And with the hint of future work ahead of me…

He looked at my hand for a moment before standing up. "I agree," he said, taking my hand into his. "Hopefully some other time, you might seek me out for-"

...

Contrary to popular belief, Aura's passive defensive mode is not impermeable. It is not a literal force field that absolutely covered the surface area of a person- if it were, then oxygen or food would not be able to pass through without a person deliberately turning off their Aura.

And even when it's up, it's not completely without weakness. The development of weaponry in particular is a field largely advanced by Assassins, as most of the different modern variations of weaponry, particularly those used for close combat, were originally designed and field tested by warriors attempting to kill Guardians for profit.

Piercing attacks are especially capable of penetrating Aura with enough force, especially when the person is caught off guard.

Like right now.

I shifted the pen in my left hand to a backhand grip and stabbed it into his forearm with as much force as I could muster. There was a crack as it pierced his Aura, a dull grayish colored, ethereal film. As he screamed, I tightened my grip with my right hand and grabbed his elbow with my left, turning and heaving him across his desk into his little chair. Now, with me between him and his desk, he couldn't access the desk or any controls he had on it.

He slammed into the chair sideways and it fell over, taking him with it before he rolled onto his feet, stood up and put his hands up in a basic boxer's stance.

Say what you will about his ability to manage and train recruits or his organization, he definitely wasn't one to go down without a fight. However, toughness aside…

He has Aura. And he's a crime boss, someone who organizes and manages criminals rather than typically performing crimes himself. So while he might be capable, it's likely been quite some time since he's seen actual combat. And people who have Aura tend to rely on it too much for protection, neglecting their own defensive, observational, and other related skills.

Still, unless he was particularly skilled in hand-to-hand combat, he likely wouldn't be able to take me down - especially not with the pen still jutting out of his dominant hand. It's probably been a long time since he's felt physical pain that intense.

In fact, he was tearing up right now, even as he rushed forward and jabbed with his left hand. Yep, I was right- it's been a while since he's been hurt. I wonder how long it's been since he's worked as an actual active Assassin. Probably as long as the club's been active, so… ten years or so?

Time to remind him of what it means to really be an Assassin.

…

Wow, that felt terrible to think. Here I was, trying to escape that life, and now I'm acting proud about it just because I'm fighting. I need to get myself together and focus.

I ducked under the jab and used both of my hands to push his solar plexus. It wasn't anything that would hurt, but it forced him to back up and sent him off balance. I followed it up by rushing forwards and stopping just in front of his range. Just in time, too- he threw another punch, a left hook this time, which missed, and I passed under again and slammed my right hand into his floating ribs. His Aura flashed with the hit, but Aura only protects you from damage- not pain. So while his ribs were probably fine (my hand hurt like shit from punching his Aura unprotected, mind you) he still felt the pain of getting punched in the ribs.

If you've never felt that before, lemme tell you. It fucking hurts.

Still, he toughed it out and stepped forward, into my guard and threw a right straight at me. Props to him for throwing a punch with his injured arm, but it was a mistake on his part. I dodged outside the punch and grabbed his wrist before slamming the bone of my elbow into the pen that was lodged into his forearm. Since it had already breached his Aura, it was free to pass further into his arm, tearing up more of his muscle and causing him immense pain.

Speaking of pens…

As he squirmed in my grip from the pain of my last attack, I twisted his arm and performed another throw, sending him onto the large oval meeting table this time. As he rolled to get off, I grabbed two more of the steel barrelled pens and held them in a backhand grip. I'm not a big fan of the backhand grip when using a knife - it decreases your range, power, leverage and the number of angles you can attack from - but with pens, it was the only grip I could reliably use.

He rolled off onto the opposite end of the table, leaving it as a barrier that separated us.

Fuck. I miscalculated. He could make a break for the entrance, get his henchmen to shoot me down or even just rush me with sheer numbers-

Wait, why did he get back on the table- oh shit!

I dodged to my back-left as he leapt of the table and delivered a jumping roundhouse kick with his right leg. As he landed, I kept up the momentum of my movement and ended up behind him. I raised both my arms up, intending to stab the pens into his shoulders. But he instead jumped again, backwards into me, slamming me into the table. As my back hit the edge, I felt one of my lower ribs crack, and I screamed as I dropped the pen in my left hand. I refused to go down though, so I took advantage of my position and wrapped my right arm around his neck. I stabbed the pen in my right hand into his mouth, hitting his tongue, before letting it go and placing my right hand into the bend of my left elbow and completing the back choke. I transitioned it into a "Blood Choke" by using my free left hand to push down on his head, forcing a restriction on his carotid arteries.

One might assume that Aura is a perfect defense, but it's really not. Aside from what's already been said, it's also worth noting that Aura doesn't protect you from grappling and strangulation. If someone with Aura was choked with a garrote wire, for example, the Aura would prevent the wire from cutting into their skin, but it wouldn't do anything about the fact that the wire was cutting off the victim's air and blood flow.

While my arms weren't exactly as effective as a garrote, I had practiced this technique thousands of times, and performed it a few dozen times. I knew what I was doing.

Junior, realizing what was happening, reached his right arm up and began jabbing his elbow into my side. Thankfully, that wasn't the side with my fractured rib, but he was clearly aiming for my liver. I pushed forward off the table as I held on to his neck, and then jumped and wrapped my legs around his torso, forcing him to trip and fall forward. He turned as he fell and my back slammed onto the ground, but that was a gamble that didn't pay off for him - I managed to hold on, and now the choke was textbook perfect. He couldn't get up, roll over, or do much of anything, and I just had to wait and hold on until he stopped struggling.

As a testament to his toughness, Junior managed to last a whole forty seconds before his limbs went limp.

…

Junior woke with a start when I splashed some water on his face. It helped that some of the water went up his nose- inadvertent suffocation tends to activate the survival instinct in people.

When he realized that I had duct taped him to one of the chairs, he stopped his struggle. He bought the good shit- this was Military Grade duct tape, used by the Atlesian Military to patch the occasional hole in their equipment. It's adhesive strength was outrageous. It was probably ironic to him- who knows how many unfortunate people ended up in similar chairs, with Junior the one seeking information?

Oh, how fortunes can change.

"Okay Junior," I began. "Let's make this easy, huh?" I set the bucket down and walked over to him and grabbed what little I could of his hair, forcing him to look me in the eyes. "Who ordered the hit?"

"Fuck you," he said. "I'm not telling you shit. You don't live as long as I do by being a snitch."

"If you don't snitch, you won't live much longer than you have," I answered. He watched as I walked behind his desk, and grabbed the large metal bat off of the rack. It was heavy - must have weighed upwards of thirty pounds. But manageable for this.

I carried the bat with both my hands, taking note of its structure. It could transform- into what, I didn't know, but there were enough seams in the outer surface to make that clear.

I grabbed the bat's handle and swung with all my might towards his shins. His Aura held, but flashed as he roared in pain.

"The name!" I roared back before taking another swing to his shins.

After another roar, he spat at me. I took the opportunity to take another swing at his shins. This went on for several minutes. Though he had Aura, he was already injured, and there was no way for me to know when he'd run out of it. I had to be careful to just hurt him, without actually injuring him.

After another scream, he quieted down, crying softly from the pain. I set the bat down on the meeting table and walked up to him, squatting down in front of him.

"How much longer will your Aura hold up, Junior?" I asked, looking up into his face. "How much longer until I break your legs? How many swings until I cripple you for life? We can answer those questions together, Junior… or you can answer the question I want you to answer. A name. That's all I ask for. One name, or I can kill you right now. If you give me the name, there's no certainty that you'll live another few days, that's true… but if you don't, I can guarantee that you won't live to see the sunrise this morning."

After a few seconds of silence, I walked back towards the bat.

"..nder." Junior muttered.

"What?" I asked, turning around to face him.

He raised his head and glared at me. Tears of pain streamed down his face, and practically spat out the name. "Cinder Fall."

I did my best to not react to the name, and I think I did okay, but inwardly I was screaming.

WHAT THE FUCK?

Roman rushed forwards and grabbed Cinder's shirt. Or he tried to, but Emerald and Mercury stepped in, Emerald hooking the blade of her gun around Roman's neck and Mercury raising a leg and placing a steel boot on his chest, stopping his movement.

"Say that name again," Roman demanded.

Cinder was completely nonplussed, and she showed it. Does he know Jaune? Did he teach him? Is that why he's such a good actor? But if he did… I'd have to reevaluate him. He may not be an Atlesian sleeper agent if he's associated with Roman.

"Jaune Arc," Cinder said, keeping her voice as calm as she could.

"Oh no no no no no no no," Roman stammered, slipping out of Emerald and Mercury's hold on him with ease and pacing around the room, continuing to talk to himself. For their part, Emerald and Mercury lowered their weapons and stared at Roman, occasionally looking to each other in confusion. "Bad bad bad bad bad. What's he doing in Vale? Is it for one of his jobs? Is he back? Oh, he won't like this, he doesn't like when people threaten his family…"

Cinder grabbed the front of Roman's clothes and slammed him against the wall. "Answer me, Roman! What's the problem? Who is Jaune Arc?"

"He's the last person you should get involved with. If you get him involved, the White Fang won't matter, hell, the Valese government won't matter, we'll die. We're just gonna fucking die because you had to-"

Cinder slapped Roman across the face. "Stop panicking! Answer me Roman. Who? Is? Jaune? Arc?"

Roman took a deep breath before steadying himself, standing straight up against the wall. "He's the son of Jack the Ripper."

…

"What?"

Author's Notes 1: Replying to Reviews

(in order of review since the last chapter was posted)

ZenithTempest: I used Emiya Kiritsugu as a strength comparison not simply as a question of Jaune's raw strength in comparison to those of the other characters, but more of a way to relate the way Jaune fights with the way the others fight. Like Kiritsugu (perhaps Batman would have been a better comparison?) Jaune is a tactical, analytical fighter. He doesn't do big, flashy, superpowered moves, he sticks to tried-and-true techniques that bring down opponents as effectively as possible. And it's not like Kiritsugu couldn't take out a Servant by himself (*WITH PREP TIME*), but that's a case of arguing about Fate power levels, so let's not go there. Remember, Jaune is trained as an Assassin, while most of RWBY and the other Beacon students were trained as Guardians. There is a marked difference in the way both groups fight, which will be made drastically clear whenever Jaune fights a Beacon student seriously (which won't be for a while).

As for Jaune's seemingly sociopathic reaction to murder- he's not a sociopath. He just hasn't allowed himself to calm down since the attempt on his life, and he hasn't had time to reflect on it.

In any case, I'm glad you enjoyed reading, and I hope you continue to do so.

Guest: Thank you! I have every intention to keep this going.

Guest 2: I agree, the info dumps are a bit annoying, but I feel they properly serve to inform the audience the basic differences between the fanfic and canon, as well as serve to flesh out the minor details that are unnecessary to discuss in the main story. In any case, thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed.

ObscureAbsurdity: The first repeat reviewer! Woo! And yes, I understand I have a tendency to ramble on. Part of that is just my writing style, but I do think that there is a part of it that lends well to the first-person perspective of Jaune's stream of thoughts. Though as with all things, it definitely has room to grow. Hope you rest well, and thanks for reading.

Author's Notes 2: The Complete Rundown on How Aura Works

-Aura Awakening Ritual: Can be Awakened by others through a simple ritual, though the words spoken tend to change depending on who is doing the Awakening. The words themselves don't matter, they're simply a way to help the person concentrate on the ritual. The only way they matter is whether they matter to the person speaking them- for example, the words often reflect a personal philosophy of the speaker.

-Personal Awakening: Aura can be Awakened by a person without the aid of another. Typically this requires significant amounts of training and meditation, though it has been known to Awaken as a result of immense trauma or stress. Scientists associate this sort of Awakening with a sort of survival instinct similar to the "fight or flight" response, except such that it grants a person enough superhuman abilities that they might be able to escape or fight with ease. As far as modern science can tell, there is no distinct difference between the abilities of those who have had their Aura Awakened by others and those who do it themselves (aside from any innate differences brought out by their individual personalities and combat styles, etc.).

-What Aura Does: Aura prevents damage from physical impacts (slashing, piercing, crushing, explosions, etc.) as well as temperature related injuries/illnesses (burns, frostbite, heat exhaustion, etc.). It also protects against chemical attacks (acid, etc.) to a minor extent, though it depends on where the acid is thrown. It can also protect the body from internal attacks, such as basic poisons (alcohol, common drugs, etc.) or minor illnesses (the common cold, chicken pox, the flu, etc.). Even with major illnesses, such as chronic diseases, having Aura will help alleviate the person's symptoms. Aura also provides a small boost to physical abilities (average boost varies from person-to-person and is somewhat dependent on the person's natural physical ability) and the senses, as well as a passive defensive shield. Aura is also typically used to power a person's Semblance, unless their Semblance is explicitly powered through other means (for example, someone whose Semblance is related to the absorption of electric energy does not have to use their Aura to power up their Semblance, assuming there is enough electrical energy to power it up to begin with.)

-What Aura Can't Do: Aura cannot protect the user from attacks that enter the airways, such as pepper spray or an aerosol poison. It also cannot protect the user from suffocation (drowning, strangulation, etc.) or the constriction of the bloodstream (such as how Jaune defeated Junior). It cannot protect the user from the effects of sudden environmental changes, such as a sudden bright light or loud sound as might be emitted from a flash-bang. In fact, the slight boost to the senses that Aura provides tends to exacerbate the effects of such a weapon. While Aura can prevent and cure illnesses to some extent, it cannot heal innate faults of the body, such as disabilities present from birth (blindness, etc.) or certain diseases (cancer, etc.) While Aura protects against poisons, similarly there are some poisons that are too strong for Aura to protect against- though this depends on the person's own innate strength. Aura's defensive shield is not a perfect, impenetrable fortress. With good timing, the element of surprise, and enough force, a person can penetrate a person's Aura even if they have previously received no damage.