This was originally two separate chapters, but I felt the second half turned some people off without the context of the second half. Becuase of that it'll be longer than most chapters. Also if you just found this story, hi, thanks for checking it out. I hope you enjoy.

Boredom, it kills. At least in Neo's case when she got bored people got killed. With orders from that bitch Cinder to not commit any crimes until they finished whatever stupid thing they were doing she found herself very bored. Stirring her spoon around in her alcoholic ice cream float she had to wonder if it was a bit of her fault that she didn't know when she could get back to her usual fun. It had just been too boring to listen after she knew she couldn't kill Cinder when their grand plan was being revealed. Ah well, she'd find something interesting to do.

That had her at Hei's club for the last couple of days. It was a nice enough place she supposed, it had ice cream at least. Albeit not great flavors. She'd asked/threatened Hei for more but that had only resulted in vanilla, chocolate, and strawberry. It was ok for the time being she internally grumbled.

Technically she was working here as a favor for Roman who owed a favor to Hei at the loss of most of his men in a botched robbery. Apparently, the twins, who usually kept Hei above ground, were out of town visiting their mother. Something about training for some bitch.

"You know, you're really mature for your age sweetheart."

Oh yeah, she'd almost forgotten. This was some guy she was gonna get to stab today. It was a great idea she'd come up with last week.

"The way you just listen shows that." the pasty-faced man continued.

He was a pedophile. Neo had little idea what that was but they all seemed to like to talk to her. She'd asked Roman what a pedophile was once after he'd beaten one for talking to her. After all, the only thing he'd done was offer her ice cream if she'd get in his van and that was a pretty great deal in her eyes. Roman had told her it was someone that wanted sex. She had absolutely no idea what sex was and she was pretty sure she didn't have any of that on her. A bit of metaphorical and literal poking of Roman lead him to tell her that it involved kids.

Armed with that knowledge she had gone to an elementary school and started handing out pamphlets that asked the question what was sex and how could she trade it for ice cream. It seemed she didn't pick a practically good school though cause not a single kid knew what sex was or how it could be leveraged for her favorite treat. Adding more evidence to the schools being trash was some teacher being horrified and screaming at her to leave while promising to call the local high school to report her. Joke was on her though, Neo was 23.

With that, she'd been pretty happy with her decision to never go to school if that was how they taught. That was all besides the point though because she'd learned that something awesome about pedophiles that totally made her quest to trade sex for ice cream irrelevant; you could stab pedophiles and people barely cared.

So that had been just swell for her. All she had to do was hang around dingy bars till someone started talking to her about "adult things". She knew all things adult by virtue of being one so she never really listened to what they said, but that never stopped them. Another reason why Neo thought they pedophiles were awesome. It was so hard to talk to people too stupid to learn the correct language of signing. Probably because of shitty schools she mussed.

"We can go back to my place and I can teach you some more mature things." the man offered.

Neo smiled and gave the man a thumbs up. This was the good part as she could stab the absolute fuck out of this guy in the back alley. Goodbye boredom she thought happily.

Turning to slam the rest of her drink and grab her weapon the unexpected sound of flesh on flesh followed by a crashing sound made her whip around to where her new stabbing pinata had been.

Instead of a pasty man with a shitty mustache in the seat beside her, a new figure was now in his seat. A man covered in a leather coat with a dirty mop of blonde hair and aviator shades that complimented his face now resided beside her. Looking down she saw the pedophile laid out unconscious on the floor with a broken jaw.

Fuck, she hated it when this happened. Once in a while, a "do-gooder" would get in the way to "save her". Of all the times for this to happen, it just had to have been today she seethed. First, she woke up hungover as fuck, then she learned that her traitorous past self had drunkenly eaten all the ice cream in the house the night before, then she'd stubbed her toe coming in, and to top it off SHE WAS STILL FUCKING BORED!

Her finger hovered over the switch in her parasail to unleash her blade; if this guy thought he was going to be some big fucking hero and take her fun away she would just have to use him as her new source of fun. The stabbing variety.

Just then the shitty techno the club pumped switched over to a new song. It was the kind of cheesy song from the 80s that one found in even cheesier action movies. Specifically the song of the best part of Neo's favorite Spruce Willis movie. Staying her hand from cutting the man's throat out she'd be damned if this white-knight wanna-be would ruin one of few good songs in this club. But once it was over she was stabbing him. For the moment she settled on glaring at him.

"Nice seat" he responded nonchalantly without facing her.

She raised an eyebrow. No lecture about child predators? He wasn't going to talk about how he'd just "saved" her? Not even a little jab about how a girl her apparent age being in a bar?

"Yeah." he said continuing to ignore her "Nice seat."

Neo was now confused. Did he really just lay out a guy for a seat? Ok, maybe he was just a huge asshole at a bar. In her book that beat a do-gooder any day. Still prime stabbing material though.

"Whiskey!" he yelled at the bartender.

Looking over at the bartender Neo was a bit curious why he was just standing there. This bar was not cool enough to just let you attack people as she had learned. Why wasn't he calling the bouncer over? Then the panicked bartender's look for help directed at her reminded her it was her job to bounce. She shrugged in response to that plea. She wasn't going to waste the only non-shitty song this club had ever played on an asshole she was gonna stab in a minute anyway.

"Hey, asshole." The blonde yelled in frustration. "Whiskey?"

Instead of the bartender the imposing figure of Hei Xilong stepped out of his office and went down to the bar. The blonde saw the wall of a man come closer and instead of any kind of acknowledgment he pulled out a pack of cigarettes and lit one up instead. Hei stepped in front of the man and growled. "No smoking in here." the owner stated in an intimidating manner.

Neo smirked at the new development. She'd seen Hei beat down a few overconfident young men in his own bar. Idiots like this guy who thought they were just soooooo tough. It'd be fun to watch Hei show this punk how things really operated in the underworld. A cool outfit with a good right hook didn't mean shit in front of one of the biggest mob bosses in this city.

She watched as the man snubbed the cig out. She had expected him to say something smart or blow smoke into the crime boss's face, but instead, he did something that finally killed that boredom when he put it out in his palm. That itself would have been just some dumb macho display to the two hardened criminals, but the aura that crackled in across his hand really got Neo going. The blood on his hands that she noticed also didn't do anything to quench her excitement.

This could be the real deal; a huntsman.

Finally excited Neo shook her empty mug for a refill. This was a real showdown as she saw Hei ever so stealthy reach for a sawn-off hidden under the bar. The stranger didn't move, he only stared down Hei with intensity hidden behind his shades. Her now full drink meet her lips as she watched in rapt attention as the show continued with Hei finally gripping the handle of his hidden gun.

A door to the back crashed in, causing all except the stranger to look over and see one of Hei's men with a look of absolute horror on his face. "Boss it's a massacre! At least two dozen men are dead outback! All torn to shreds with enough firepower to level the block!"

"Those are mine." the stranger calmly spoke as blood started to drip from his hands.

Hei's hand flew off his gun like it was a hot iron before doing a 180 and looking through his bottles of alcohol. "Whiskey was it?" he asked in his best service industry voice. "Any preference? We have-"

"Strongest you got"

At this point, Neo was practically bouncing on her seat as she sipped down her drink. This was the most interesting thing to happen this month. Happiness redacted from her at the knowledge that she was gonna have a proper fight today. With someone so mysterious too. She had no idea if she'd have to retreat or get to carve his throat out.

Hei returned with a bottle of his strongest whiskey and swiftly poured a shot before leaving the bottle. With the amount of sweat that was coming off him Neo would have busted out laughing if she could; The big crime lord made a bitch in his own club. Sure she was his protection, but she had decided that she was on break. Besides, she was definitely fighting this guy now. Maybe even before Hei got himself killed.

Composing himself Hei watched his men take defensive positions and ready weapons if the terrifying man decided to make a move. "You got a name stranger?" the boss asked.

They watched in silence as the blonde practically backhanded the shot onto the floor before grabbing the bottle. "I'm Billy." he finally replied.

Bottle in hand Billy leaned back and chugged the bottle like it was water.

"Got a last name." Hei prodded.

Neo couldn't keep from eye-rolling. Hei was the best information dealer in the city. One full name and he'd have everybody that had ever smiled at Billy floating in the harbor by morning. What a bullshit out to repair his wounded pride she thought. She couldn't help but like Billy's style and mysterious nature, it'd be a shame to see it all broken as he begged on the ground for Hei not to kill his family.

The glass of the bottle finally landed back onto the bar with half its contents gone as the cheesy 80's music swelled to its high point. "Badass" he shot with a dangerous smile. " Middle name's motherfuckin"

Hei started really sweating now that the man saw through him. The rest of his men started to look nervously towards the exit. Hell, Neo even tipped her glass to him for the nice turn about.

Which may have been a mistake, she realized as he turned to look at her with those piercing glasses staring into her soul. Not expecting the attention she dropped her drink onto the floor and went for her weapon preparing for a fight.

Instead of violence, he smiled. "Short." his hand went for the zipper of his closed leather jacket. "Sweet". He pulled it down. "Rolls off the tongue." The zipper reached the bottom of the jacket to reveal no shirt underneath but instead a toned chest. "And the ladies love it." he finished with a wink.

Oh yes, they do. The lady likes very much. An unknown voice screeched inside Neo's head. Before she could even handle whatever the hell that was she suddenly felt like she was on fire. While somewhere a voice was screaming at her to stab him in the face she inexplicably turned away to avoid his gaze. Why she suddenly found the bar so interesting to look at or why the voice of violence had lost for the first time were internal mysteries that she really couldn't handle at the moment.

It was now Hei's turn to eye-roll at the absolute bullshit going on before him.

Chill the hell out, she internally screamed, we need to kill this guy. Whatever was going on she did not like it, and she killed things she didn't like dammit.

Mustering her fury she stood up and raised her weapon. She was Neopolite, the horror of the underworld, a legend of death in this dirty city, the screams of her victims haunted the very souls of all who heard them, and she'd be damned if she wouldn't kill this man for making her feel weird.

She looked at her opponent in a rage, expecting a fighting stance or some terrible semblance. She was definitely not prepared for her opponent to be nude from the waist up; lean muscle covering his body and the coat on the ground. The only thing he had on above with a DIY tourniquet around his right bicep which was meant for a nasty gunshot wound below it. It wasn't bleeding much thanks to it, but blood slowly pooled down to his hand.

Good, he's wounded; I can take him easier. He needs to die right now, she fumed. Neo was trying her hardest to keep eye contact with him as anywhere else she looked made her heat up and her knees weaken. This had to be some kind of semblance, she raged.

He finally stood up with the bottle in hand. He was casual and had that stupid smile still on his face that was pissing her off so damn much. Knees or no, she'd cut this bastard down. It didn't matter that he'd killed two dozen people at once. It didn't even matter that she was fighting a grin that on reflection was bore from nervousness and embarrassment; held down with fury. No one made her this mad and lived.

Neo was ready for anything, especially him using the bottle as a weapon. She learned that was a lie though as he looked up and poured the alcohol all over himself. Neo couldn't help but watch as amber drops flowed off his body, pulling her eyes to places she was really trying to avoid.

His now wet hair in his eyes she knew it was her chance to strike; If only her legs worked. Her breath was heavy as any fight she'd ever been and she hadn't even started. Just what the hell kind of semblance did he have.

Pushing her all she took a step forward, then another. The spell was breaking as she felt her muscles return and her rage rally her through his power.

Then he made his move. At this moment she had no doubt that they were locked in a life or death struggle and that he'd just made another calculated movie as he whipped his hair back. The amber alcohol was under his control as it pushed his hair back into a position that blew away the messy mop he'd started with. His muscled hand ran through it making his biceps flex in a way that was currently cementing Neo to the ground. All of those were jabs to the uppercut that was his piercing blue eyes that had been revealed as his shades flew away.

If he'd looked into her soul before, he was currently shredding it to pieces and examining every inch of it with a microscope. She relized she wasn't going anywhere on her legs now as they shook like the terrified victims she'd made in the past. The heavy pants had turned to full-on heaves as she couldn't take on enough oxygen. The worst of it, somehow, was the fact that she was on fire. Neo knew she had lost as she dropped her weapon to fan her face.

The last vestiges of her rage screamed out against whatever the fuck was invading her with one last desperate move to get her back into this savage fight. If he wanted to use such a horrible semblance on her she'd respond in kind. Neo prepared to unleash an illusion of a rampaging grimm to give herself some, literal, breathing room.

He was not a man of mercy she learned as he struck again. From his pocket, he pulled out his pack of cigarettes and flicked them open. His wounded arm grabbed a smoke, the tourniquet bulging veins on his arm and Neo's brain. As she watched his lips grip the stick of tobacco with the slightest showing of his tongue that the semblance affected part of her wanted to see more of. With his bloody arm at peak flex, the sound of the slug embedded inside falling out onto the floor was overtaken by the sound of Neo's knees hitting the floor.

Meanwhile, Hei was looking around at his men with a look that asked are we all seeing this. In response, he got the same look. A minute ago he was pretty sure someone would be cleaning up blood, probably his. Now he was thinking that he'd be cleaning different types of human fluids. Why Roman's pet psycho was currently rubbing her legs together while fanning herself and heaving over an averagely athletic, albeit terrifying, guy was well beyond his understanding. Also what the hell was he going to do? It wasn't like anybody could stop the insane killing machines from fucking in front of everybody. He was sure any attempt would lead to a painful death. Throwing his hands up he decided the only thing he could do was pour a strong drink to preserve his sanity.

Similarly, Neo definitely could have gone for a stiff one too. Desperately she was trying to fight off the horror she was feeling being at the blonde's mercy. Fighting was a distant memory as the alien feeling of fear mixed with his terrible semblance. Never in her life had she been so scared.

What was this horrible man going to do she wondered? Would he strangle her? Maybe break his bottle open and slash her throat? She didn't even know if she could bring her Aura up to defend herself; it seemed his semblance had turned her into a puppet with its strings cuts.

The part of her that screamed to fight to the end begged her to close her eyes if just to cut him out. She'd die, but maybe she could get to her feet again. That would have required him to show mercy, and at that moment she knew he was a bigger monster than her. Instead of shutting her eyes, they grew to the size of saucers with his next move.

He winked with the energy pure evil and she gulped. Finally going for the kill he started to walk towards her. If Hei had been sweating profusely in fear of his life a minute ago she was absolutely drenched at this point. Then his hand moved to destroy her.

….By grabbing his zipper.

Click

Hei tossed his newly made drink off the bar and started chugging gin like his sanity depended on it as Neo, the most terrifying creature he'd ever had the displeasure of seeing work, fainted and slumped to the floor. At any moment he was sure he'd wake up from this insane nightmare. Instead of finding himself in his bed, he watched the man turn to face him.

"What do you want." The crime boss asked trying his best to not sound desperate.

A confused look graced the stranger for a second before he answered. "A roof over my head."

That was it? Hei would have surrendered the who damn club at this point.

"Some work would be nice too." the blonde continued in an absent-minded tone.

"Done!" he shouted "Welcome aboard, we have a room you can have.". Hei had never been religious, but at this moment he was thanking every higher power he could think of. He'd never thought he'd see a miracle in his life, but here it was.

"Police!"

Two officers kicked in the club's doors as six more piled in with guns drawn. All the gangsters threw down their weapons and got on the ground at the sudden arrival of the police. That just left the stranger standing with all weapons pointed at him. For a moment it was tense as the blonde seemed to not give the police a thought.

"Jaune?" one of the officers asked.

With a big smile, the man lit up his smoke before taking a drag. "That's my name. Don't wear it out."

(A few minutes ago)

"Billy badass, middle names motherfuckin…" Jaune muttered. Momentarily he chewed on the words he'd muttered to himself before he shook his head.

"This isn't a joke Jaune." he admonished himself. He was currently walking down the street trying to figure out some kind of intimidating line to say to the hardened criminal he currently made a living off arresting. How this had become his new life was beyond him. Last night he'd gotten lucky/unlucky with the mugging and earned himself enough money to sleep in an actual bed in the form of a nearby traveler hotel. At the time it looked like things were looking up for once, but with good sleep and hot food in him, he finally had time to think about his recent life choices.

Not that all of it was bad. He'd wanted to be a hunter and face danger on the regular while doing good. Being a hero really. That was pretty much what he was doing now. It was pretty sudden but it wasn't like he hadn't almost been killed a few times at Beacon, and his plan to attempt freelance work to get up to speed had been near suicidal. In comparison, this wasn't that different.

To Jaune, it'd all been abstract. He'd planned to train for years and take easy work to build up. Now he was in the deep end of the pool. Nobody was gonna train him, no one was gonna watch his back. It was just himself alone on the streets with what he had. More miserably he'd failed pretty miserably at starting points of being a hunter. So how he thought he'd fair at the actual work of a bounty hunter didn't particularly bode well in his head.

Jaune always considered himself his harshest critic and that was cutting both ways in his debate if he'd actually try this. On the one hand, he was a stone-cold loser. He was in this job because he lied about being some other bounty hunter. His record of BSing his way into positions he was unqualified ending well was 0-1 giving him some idea at this being a terrible idea. The only fight he'd ever won was last night, and as for losses, he'd lost count. Being awkward as hell probably won't do him any favors either.

But with the pessimism and self-loathing he held that had led him to be bullied by Cardin was also the optimism to attend Beacon in the first place. He was pretty fit after his time in Beacon which would be handy. Getting his ass kicked had actually taught him how to take a hit and throw a few himself. For all his self-loathing he knew the common criminal wasn't training to fight professionally. At least he had some knowledge of the basics. If last night it was any indication, criminals were opportunistic bullies looking to feed off weak targets. The biggest advantage he had was his aura though.

Not that he had known much about it before attending Beacon. He'd asked Pyrrha questions about it once she'd unlocked his. It turned out that there were actually a decent amount of laws governing aura and how it could be unlocked. Apparently, it could only be unlocked legally in the service of becoming a hunter. This had confused him at first as it didn't make sense to not have all of humanity able to survive a few hits from the grimm but his former partner had explained that the problem was the semblances that came with aura. It would be pretty problematic if everyone had reality-defying powers to do whatever they wanted with. Imagine someone with mind control declaring themselves king, or someone leveling a block because they had a bad day. It was a lot easier to keep the fabric of society intact if only a few properly trained individuals who had all their abilities registered had aura.

While some people unlocked it in natural ways that was pretty rare. If someone did unlock it that way they were required to report it. Mostly that kind of thing happened in the outskirts. City life provided fewer chances of having an encounter with grimm or bandits.

That wasn't to say that people didn't follow the law, hence his new employment opportunity, but he knew that was rare. At least he hoped so. Phyrra had told him that any criminal offense by somebody with an unregistered aura was harshly punished.

This all lead back to the realization that he, the biggest loser in Beacon, was actually some pretty serious muscle on these streets. That thought had pretty much sealed the deal for him to at least try this job. Not that it kept his nervous brain from having the same argument every few hours.

With an annoyed sigh, he figured it wouldn't help his nerves to keep trying to think of reasons that this was a terrible idea. He didn't hate himself as much as yesterday and he got paid, so this was what he was doing for now.

Pulling himself from his thoughts he stopped and looked at where he was at. In front of him, unlit neon signs dotted the buildings displaying the names of clubs and bars signaling that he was in the semi-seedy entertainment. It wasn't dingy enough to keep the young and adventurous crowd away on a weekend but not clean enough to be free of drug deals and pimps that catered to the usual crowd. It also was a popular spot to beg with the influx of cash-flush clients young enough to believe that their charity wouldn't be spent on easy drugs or flesh. It'd been how he got the money he need to town at least.

Looking to a dark alley across the road his eyes focused on his old haunt when he'd been forced to live on the streets. Dingy cardboard and trash cans obscured the alley from view and whoever lived there now. Remembering the chill of the nights sent a shiver through him. The smell of rotting trash came to his nose even as he knew he was too far away to smell it.

Before more unpleasant memories came to him his hand reached into his back pocket and he pulled out his smokes and light. Quickly he put a stick in his mouth before lighting it. Not the healthiest choice but it took his eyes and mind off the alley. The acrid smell of burning tobacco hit his nostrils and overtook the rot he imagined.

He hadn't come here for a trip down memory lane he thought as his eyes focused on another alley beside a popular club. The sound of feminine laughter emanating from it focused him on what he'd come to this shithole for in the first place.

This morning he'd used the computer at the hostel to look up active bounties in town to get a start on his new job. Quickly he'd skipped the violent offenders and had looked for bail jumpers with charges of non-violent offenses. At first, he'd been disheartened that the postings didn't provide any details on whereabouts. Really he'd been stupid to think they would. If the police knew where they were why would they hire bounty hunters. In fact, any info on targets was scarce, just names and offenses were required. He didn't even have a picture to go by with some.

Before despair had started to settle in though his luck provided something. A name stood out to him in the form of Billy Tanner. No picture was provided only a charge of running a prostitution ring but he'd heard the name before. In the alley he'd slept in passersbys would mention a Big Billy Tanner when they'd had a lady of the night on their arm. He'd even looked into the alley he now stood before and had seen prostitutes and a large gruff man he singled out as the pimp. So now here he was.

As his cigarette burned down in his mouth his mind resurrected the debate he'd been having on the way here with his last idea being to say that he was Billy Badass and that he was taking Tanner in. That idea thoroughly stupid, which admittedly most of his ideas seemed to be, was discarded. Taking another drag he realized he really had no idea what to do.

Continuing to think he flinched as his finger burned and he realized he'd burned his cig down to almost nothing and he still was without a clue. Throwing his cig down he shook his head in disgust at his lack of a plan. A part of him that had nagged him all night and day told him to forget this silliness and go home. The disappointed looks of his family in his head quickly pushed that thought back. It was now or never and if it wasn't now he had no idea how he'd have any respect for himself.

"Screw it." he growled under his breath as his feet took him towards the alley.

"Billy Tanner!" He shouted as he rounded the corner into the alley "You're under arrest for prostitution! Come quietly." he continued, fueled by his own frustration.

Five eyes looked at him in confusion; four women and the tall man. For a moment they looked at each other and then back to him before laughing as if they had just heard the funniest joke.

"I'm serious." he said dejectedly. This was worse than any time that Wiess had turned down his proposals of going out.

"Listen, kid," One of the women in a leather jacket with a half-shaved head of blue hair and ear piercings managed to say through chuckles. "You're gonna wanna fuck off unless you wanna get fucked."

"And that's gonna cost you extra baby dick." the large man he knew was Billy mocked.

"Maybe he can suck yours" the punk-looking hooker cackled.

For a moment humiliation sparked in his head at being laughed at and taunted as he had been for what felt like his entire life. Just an idiot kid playing hero yet again. He pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a sigh. The thoughts of giving upwelled up once again as the group continued with taunts and jeers at his expense and sexuality.

Then came hot anger.

"Tired this the easy way." he mumbled. Head held high again he walked down the alley past large dumpsters and filth to stand toe to toe with the group.

One of the hookers dressed like some kind of nurse closest to him pulled out a switchblade and pointed it at him threateningly. "Seriously fuck off kid before I castrate you like a handsy john."

"She's done it before." The blue-haired woman warned as the rest of the group moved towards unseen weapons.

SMACK

The group all stiffened as Jaune deliver an aura infused backhand to the woman with the knife that now left her on the ground unconscious. Hands stopped inches from knives at the act of violence and jeers died on their lips.

"Bitches leave." Jaune said coldly. Mean and stolen from a movie? Yeah. Effective? He'd see.

The group all looked amongst themselves and to the big man that stood beside the blue hair woman at the back of the alley. The confidence they showed before lost to the show of sudden violence. They wouldn't be cowed though with numbers and weapons on their side. Soon they'd charge him and take him by desperate force.

Jaune knew this though. He'd spent enough time being tormented by groups of bullies that saw their numbers as strength. Back then he'd always try to talk his way out, be friendly and sensible, attempt to walk away from tormenters and be the bigger man. That never worked.

"Last chance before I backhand you whores so fucking hard you'll wake up thinking you're my bitch." He continued. "Billy, get on the ground before I shove my hand so far up your ass I'll work your mouth like a puppet when you beg the police to take you away from me."

The thing about being bullied for so long is you got a degree in being one. It seared a lot of cruel words into his brain that he could pull on. If any of the Arc family had heard him he was sure they'd faint or smack him in the face. His whole life the world had told him to be the bigger man; to raise above his tormentors. A hero had to be the bigger man they would say when he talked about his dream of being one. Cardin had pretty much proven that false.

For a moment it looked like they might give up Billy. Jaune knew bullies would scatter when they were on the back end. Giving the hookers an out might be enough to give him Billy alone. He had to keep the pressure on though.

Stepping forward he was fully intent on dropping anyone who stood up to him. He only took one step before the unmistakable sound of a shotgun being pumped behind him stooped him cold.

Turning around he was greeted by at least fifteen rough-looking men and women dressed in an assortment of combat boots, leather jackets, trench coats, and camouflage. Most of them were bald and muscled, all of them holding rifles, shotguns, and all manner of melee weapons. So all in all, not a good sign.

"Neighborhood watch by any chance?" he half asked half prayed.

"You could say that." a bald muscled man with a facial scar sneered. "This is our neighborhood and we don't want no dirty animals in it."

"I'll give you all a group discount If you kill this asshole." the blue-haired woman offered before sticking her tongue out at Jaune.

"Fuck you." Jaune deadpanned.

"Not on the menu." She said with a shit-eating grin.

"You all die." the scarred man said.

"Ok, we'll do free." The woman exclaimed nervously; her grin dead.

"One of your whores cut one of my men's dick off. You all die."

"Dammit Sarah." She sighed looking at the unconscious woman.

"Well ummmm…" Jaune thought quickly. "That's why I'm here. Just taking these villains down for all mankind, but you seem to have this all well in hand." he tried nervously. "Soooo I'll just be going then."

"You fucking son of a whore!" The punk hooker swore. "I'll castrate you when I get out of this"

"Kinda what got you into this mess." He said before sticking his tongue back at the woman.

"We are gonna skin you Black Fang piece of shit." The man retorted as his whole group started walking down the alley to murder them.

"Black Fang?" He asked frantically.

"Yeah, faunus thugs that pretend to be White Fang." The punk exclaimed. "Their logo is a rabbit." She said pointing to his Pumpkin Pete hoody. "This is their sworn enemy, pro-human extremist gang and all that.

"Fuck, I just like cereal." He hollered as he frantically looked for some way to escape.

As the whole gang fully entered the alley to kill them in a probably horrible manner Jaune came to the conclusion that unless he learned to fly this was it for his short life. "I'm not Black Fang dammit!" He shouted to no effect.

"We are!" Somebody shouted.

With that, all of the gang looked behind them to see another group of extremely armed and pissed-off people at the mouth of the alley. In contrast, they wore more flashy cloth with rabbits somewhere on them and all had faunus features.

No words were exchanged between the groups as gunfire broke out between them. Bullets and blood flew as screams and curses punctuated the sound of gunfire. Which for Jaune would have worked out great if it wasn't for the fact that half the bullets in this fight were going in his direction.

A slug bounced off his aura and caused him to fall back in pain and surprise. The hooker beside him didn't fare as well. Another slug lodged into her arm with a blood curtailing scream from her. He knew he had a decent chance to survive the volleys of bullets but everyone else was as good as dead if he didn't do anything. While they were criminals and all-around assholes that didn't mean he could sit by and let them die.

Surging to his feet as another round grazed off him he ran forward. With aura fueled strength he grabbed the only thing that seemed of any use while he'd been scanning for a way out in the form of the large dumpster. Pulling it in front of him it provided some cover from the hail of bullets.

Before he could even shout out all the hookers and Billy crawled behind the dumpster. He let out a sigh at the momentary safety and looked to Billy. Looking back at him Billy offered a quick thanks before Jaune punched his lights out.

"What the fuck!" The punk screamed.

"Still arresting Billy!" He screamed back.

Anger on the punk's face turned to horror as she looked past him. "Sarah!"

Looking over he saw the hooker he's knocked cold still laying in the open. By some miracle, she'd not been hit yet.

"You've got to save her." the punk pleaded with him.

It wasn't even a question for him as he jumped out of cover. He was still going to be a hero dammit. It was his fault that she was out in the open. Bullets pinged off him and bled aura off but he persisted. Only two more feet separated him from her but it felt like miles through the storm of metal.

A large caliber round threw him on the ground hard. Most would have died there but for all his failing Jaune was blessed with a monster aura reserve. Laying flat he continued forward one hand after the other. Quickly reaching her he got on the side facing combat to shield her as he dragged her back. The bullets and weight causing his muscles to burn in protest.

"Easy I said." He ranted as he crawled back to cover with Sarah. "Just a pimp and a few girls." Another high caliber flew just above his head. "THIS IS BULLSHIT!" He screamed as he finally pulled himself and Sarah back to cover.

"Thanks!" the punk remarked as she tended to the other wounded hooker.

Jaune was too tired to respond as he slumped down. Ok, now I'm just gonna enjoy sitting for a second.

Three holes suddenly appeared beside him and another woman screamed in pain. The dumpster wasn't stopping all the bullets his mind screamed at him.

"Get behind me!" He yelled as he stood to provide cover with his aura. No one argued and all pressed as close as they could with the punk face to face with him.

"Ummmm… Any chance I can kiss my way out of this?" She joked as their faces were centimeters apart.

"I hate you all so much." He growled as a round struck his back.

"Worth a shot." she said with a shrug.

The sounds of screams and gunshots ended just as suddenly as they had started. To Jaune, it felt like the whole thing had lasted an eternity. In reality, it'd been a little under a minute. Once again Jaune slumped down in exhaustion.

"Is it safe?" One of the hookers asked.

Rallying some strength with a groan he looked around the dumpster to see something out of a Wuentin Rarantino movie; blood and gore repainting the alley a deep red. Dozens of mutilated corpses lay in unnatural positions with smoking weapons amongst them. He'd feared enough of one group would survive to kill him, but looking around it looked like no one was alive.

"We're safe." he mumbled as he stood up and looked at the carnage.

BANG

Aura and flesh gave way as hot pain burned in his arm. Blood sprayed onto the pavement and he fell to his knees as his leg was kicked out. Looking back he saw the blue-haired punk with a smoking pistol in her hand.

"Dammit." He rasped as his hand covered a rapidly bleeding gash in his arm. His brain was screaming to get up but his exhausted body refused.

"Sorry kid." She smirked. "You really gotta check your gender bias."

"What?"

"Billy Tanner, pimp of these girls and guy." She revealed.

"Fuck me." he moaned in pain. He'd just assumed Billy was the big guy and now it was looking like it'd cost him his life.

"I give you a discount next time." Billy joked before her face took a serious edge. "I've seen all kinds on these street kid. I know what kind of person survives in this jungle and you aren't it." She crouched down at to level. "You think you can get by with that aura of yours and ideas of heroics and justice. But I know you're just some boy playing at the end of the day." she put her gun into her coat and pulled out a blackjack. " You won't last." She warned.

Any retort Jaune had died on his lips she cracked the blackjack on his skull sending him into darkness.

Pain and light brought Jaune back to consciousness. His head ached and arm burned and the sun was too damn bright in a way it hadn't been before. It felt like his head weighed a ton. His mouth was dry and something was ringing in his ears. Groggily looking around he saw that he was the only living person in the alley now.

Through a haze that had settled over his brain, he figured he should see if he was still bleeding to death. Lazily he saw that his arm wasn't bleeding as much thanks to a homemade tourniquet made of his clothes. Shirtless and wounded he managed to stagger back to his feet.

Testing his aura he saw his hand flare with a bit of light signaling that some had returned to him during his time knocked out. It was pretty amazing considering the lack of anyone on the scene of the massacre. He must not have been out long.

Why does everything seem so hazy? And why does it feel like the lights are burning into my skull?

Walking forward he saw a body with intact aviators. Leaning down he put them on to provide some relief from the merciless light. The chill breeze of the season caused him to shiver and reminded him that he was nude from the waist up. Looking to another body he took a leather jacket off him and donned it to get warm.

Not really my style. At least it's not bloody like everything else.

Looking back at the body he'd just taken from he noticed the lack of blood was thanks to a bullet wound in his head that had leaked away from the body. Instead, it had leaked down into a nearby gutter.

I wonder what happened to him?

The idol thought and his lack of horror at the grisly scene was just one of the many symptoms of the concussion he was suffering from. He was unaware of it and most of reality as his lucidness faded.

Where am I? He questioned suddenly finding himself in some kind of club. Before him, he saw a grimy and pasty man talking to a girl who looked way too young to be in this kind of place.

"We can go back to my place and I can teach you some more mature things." the man offered to the girl.

Bounty hunting. That's what I'm doing. This must be the guy.

It made sense to him. He was a bounty hunter and this was obviously a bad guy.

No that's not right I was chasing something else. Maybe? I just need a second to figure this o-.

Like watching a TV he saw his fist crash into the man and send him to the floor in a heap.

Ah well.

The exertion of his punch caused a wave of nausea to well up inside him. For a second he thought he'd fall down. Thankfully an empty seat was right in front of him. As he sat in it the nausea subsided as quickly as it had come.

"Nice seat." He said aloud as a thank you to the nausea ending seat. "Yeah, nice seat."

His lucidness ended there for a moment before he came back a second later. For some reason, he was in a bar. Was he drinking?

"Whiskey!" he shouted half wanting to try some, half naming the first thing in his field of vision.

Waiting for a second, nothing happened. No drink was suddenly in his hand and no one confirmed that he had currently identified it. Child-like frustration welled up in him.

"Hey, asshole. Whiskey?" he yelled to no one in particular. He really wanted to know if the amber bottle he was looking at was whiskey for some reason.

If I'm drinking I might as well smoke.

Reaching into his pocket he pulled out a stick of tobacco and lit it up. All of a sudden a large man was in front of him telling him he couldn't smoke in the bar.

Oh no, I'm breaking rules. I'll put it out.

Smashing the cig into the bar to extinguish it he felt a slight tingle. It didn't bother him much though and it went away. If he looked down he'd have seen that he'd put it out in his hand. Thankfully the aura and concussion brought the typical burning pain to be nothing more than a tickle in his mind.

Lucidness wanned for a moment before he was brought back by someone shouting.

"Boss it's a massacre! At least two dozen men are dead outback! All torn to shreds with enough firepower to level the block!"

A brief moment of muted half-intelligence flashed through his mind as he recognized someone acknowledging the massacred gangs. Gangs that probably had bounties on them. Bounties he needed to claim as his.

"Those are mine." he asserted. The lack of wisdom in claiming responsibility for murders lost on him.

Zoning out again the word preference was said to him and it made him think back to the drink he might have been trying to order. What had he been trying to order? What was it they said to look cool in movies?

"Strongest you got." He said satisfied he'd remembered the line. What he was remembering it for he had no idea.

"-name stranger?" someone asked.

Name? Whose name? Was it a stupid name?

"Billy." he uttered. That was a stupid name that he really hated right now for some reason.

Billy. Billy? I was gonna say something to Billy. Oh, look my drink.

Overestimating where his hand would go he accidentally knocked the drink to the floor. That wasn't a problem, he had a bottle. Knocking it back his mind blanked for a moment mid drink which resulted in him gulping most of the alcohol down before he decided to put it down. Wasn't he saying something about Billy? Maybe something to Billy?

"Badass." He settled on finally with a smile at his accomplishment of remembering. It was something he remembered saying at some point. Wasn't there more to it though? "Middle name's moutherfuckin." That was it.

Suddenly he became aware that he had a bartender looking very nervous at him. Which in turn made him nervous. Did he have something on his face? Turning away he saw a girl-. No, woman, she was just short. Looking at him with miss-matched eyes intently. Did she want something?

They had just been talking about names he remembered, and he knew he'd said something. Probably his name. On another note, his brain was telling him that he was getting really hot.

"Short, sweet, rolls off the tongue, and the ladies love it." He said as he stood. The line was what he usually said after his name with a wink.

Holy crap, I'm hot.

Not a problem though. He stood up and quickly discarded his hot jacket. A bit cooler he smiled in victory.

It was short-lived though as the heat continued. Thankfully he had other ways to cool down. Another way was his bottle. Promptly he dumped the contents on his head. Momentarily his hair got in front of his eyes and glasses. Nothing that the flip of his head and a guiding hand couldn't fix though.

Didn't I want to smoke?

Yes, he did. So he grabbed one from his pocket. It did make his arm feel a bit tight for a second he absent-mindedly noted. Before he could light it though he noticed the woman from earlier looking at him with a weird look on her face. The fact that she was on the floor went over his head.

I'm in a bar and a hot woman has been staring at me for a while. I wonder why? Hmmmmm.

Ok brain, hear me out, could it be, maybe, she is interested in me?

That checked out pretty well to him.

I'll wink at her. Test this out.

His wink didn't produce the reaction he was expecting. While her facial expression was too complicated for him to fully understand it looked like she was concerned.

Crap. My fly is totally down.

His hand went for his crotch to find that, in fact, his zipper was indeed still up. Before he could wonder further about the issue he watched the woman slump onto the ground and close her eyes.

She was just tired.

Why couldn't he get any woman interested in him he moped. Was he just that ugly? Was it the lack of confidence? Whatever it was, it made him sad now. Thankfully he was in a bar and he'd been told that was the place for sad people. Looking back to the man that provided him the first drink he took a second to think about what he wanted to order.

"What do you want?" the man asked.

That was a good question. What did he want?

"A roof over my head." he replied. It would be so nice to not sleep in that nasty alley again. "Some work would be nice." Needed a job for a roof. Also, he had the nagging feeling that he wasn't exactly cut out for whatever he did.

Blanking out again he just looked at his still unlit cig that had been in his mouth for a while now. His brain attempted to figure out why it was not lit and missed the fact that the police had kicked in the doors to the club and were surrounding him with guns drawn.

Finally, he figured out that he needed to use his zippo to light his cig. Vaguely he was aware that someone said his name. Not taking his attention from his work on lighting up he replied with some line he'd heard in a movie before.

"That's my name. Don't wear it out." As he said that he finally managed to light his cig. He smiled at his achievement and took a puff.

Whatever happened next he wasn't particularly lucid. All he knew is that he was suddenly walking out of the bar to the harsh light outside. Then the terrible heat and nausea returned in force. Thankfully the pavement came up to him and provided a nice place to let the darkness at the edge of his vision take him.

Just gotta have confidence Jaune, girls love it. As for Neo I frequently see her portrayed as worldly and experienced in some social context, but I always saw her as purely focused on killing and ice cream with very little social interactions outside of Roman. This story is gonna be serious at times but blend some pretty out-there humor. Once again thanks for all the support everybody and feel free to leave any feedback.