Hitman - Instinct
"Hitman," - Rock's Thoughts during Instincts
"Hitman" - Enemies speakingduring Instincts
Author's Note: I'm going, to be honest. I don't know what came over when I was writing this chapter. It's like my fingers had a mind and took it far from what I expected. I can't complain because the way it flowed left me breathless and feeling light. I don't know what you guys will think about it, but I'm pleasantly satisfied.
Author Warning:
Serious conversations, but it gets better.
"You shall not murder. Exodus 20:13."
"Welcome, Child, to your new home," The man in a white coat told the sobbing child.
"Have nothing to do with a false charge, and do not put an innocent or honest person to death, for I will not acquit the guilty. Exodus 23:7."
"Under our tutelage, we're expecting great things from each and every one of you."
"For their own sake, they'd better not fail. The project does not need failures, and we do not make exceptions."
"But the cowardly, the faithless, the vile, the murderers, the sexually immoral, those who practice magic arts, the idolaters, and all liars—they will be consigned to the fiery lake of burning sulfur. This is the second death. Revelation 21:8."
"Already in the past six weeks, we've lost over two dozen subjects to the chemical treatments. They've been deemed Class Six and were properly disposed of. Which leaves us with exactly one hundred sixty-one subject remaining."
"Excellent. The project moves as planned. Continue the procedure as we discussed."
"Yes, Dr. Ort-Meyer."
"You have heard that it was said to the people long ago, 'You shall not murder, and anyone who murders will be subject to judgment.' Matthew 5:21."
"They-They shouldn't be doi-doing this! We're just kids! We shouldn't be treated like we're nothing but lab rats!"
"What can we do? Anyone who resists is set to the white rooms and…."
"I know, but to die fighting is better than living as a plaything."
"Do not take revenge, my dear friends, but leave room for God's wrath, for it is written: "It is mine to avenge; I will repay," says the Lord. Romans 12:19."
"Dying like that has no meaning and won't allow you to drag 47 into this mess, 6."
"Then what do you suggest, 90."
"Escape. Come back with numbers and rescue the other subjects. Dying here doesn't mean anything if more take our place."
A satirical chuckle slipped out.
"Still surprises me how we can still feel anythingafter everything we've been through."
"They can't destroy everything. We still have our minds and our hearts."
"Perhaps, but for how much longer?"
"For the one in authority is God's servant for your good. But if you do wrong, be afraid, for rulers do not bear the sword for no reason. They are God's servants, agents of wrath to bring punishment on the wrongdoer. Romans 13:4"
"This is your gift," The Warden told them, the smoking gun still trained on the small cadaver lying close to the larger ones as they huddled together. Ignoring the older boy's death threats in favor of kneeling in front of the paralyzed child held by the guards.
"The commandments, "You shall not commit adultery," "You shall not murder," "You shall not steal," "You shall not covet," and whatever other command there may be, are summed up in this one command: "Love your neighbor as yourself." Romans 13:9."
"Your gift and your curse. Touching lives…" The barrel of the gun burned against his forehead. "…Only by ending them."
"For this is the message you heard from the beginning: We should love one another. John 3:11."
"Wake up! Wake up, my friend!"
"Do not be like Cain, who belonged to the evil one and murdered his brother. And why did he murder him? Because his own actions were evil and his brother's were righteous. John 3:12."
"It's the dawn of a new day, and you have things to do! I will guide and teach you, and you will learn by doing."
"When I say to the wicked, 'You wicked person, you will surely die,' and you do not speak out to dissuade them from their ways, that wicked person will die for their sin, and I will hold you accountable for their blood. Ezekiel 33:8."
"47.. I should have known... I didn't even recognize my own son... you broke my heart, my son.."
"But if you do warn the wicked person to turn from their ways and they do not do so, they will die for their sin, though you yourself will be saved. Ezekiel 33:9."
"You were never my father."
"Therefore, I tell you, whatever you ask in prayer, believe that you have received it, and it will be yours. Mark 11:24."
*Snap*
Slowly, brown eyes welcomed the waking world with relief, swiftly buried as he rose from the floor. The bed beside him was empty, except the pillows were hidden under the cover like a body.
Cracking his neck, he paused as the thin metal dangled from a light tack. Its shape should've brought a wealth of feeling, but all it got was his head tipping slightly.
"Amen."
Ch. IV: Rock
"So," A smug snake bared her fangs towards its prey. "Word on the street is that you found yourself a man."
An American woman in her 30s with blond hair smirked. Her icy blue eyes twinkled mischievously behind her angular pink sunglasses. Crushing her burning stump against the ashtray, the American reaches into her pale green miniskirt pocket and pulls out a pack of cigarettes. Her tight pink tank top with Just Do It! showed off more than her well-endowed figure, but the Glock 17L dangling from her shoulder holster.
"Funny, the street also mentions that your vag can fit a stripper pole," Revy sneered, tightening her cards. "Wanna pick a fucking card, Eda? Or should me and Nate work on our taxes while you leer every guy passing your skank ass on their way to the bar?"
"Almost clever," Nate admitted before smirking as Ginger shuffled the cards. "I'm surprised you know what taxes are, much less have the mental capacity to do them."
Letting smoke slip from her curved lips, Revy smirked back. "If I wasn't taking your money, that would've pissed me off. I'll pay for the next round with your cash."
Waving it off, Eda decided to fold, much to the surprise of her friends, who knew her competitiveness and pointed her dainty finger at the smug bitch. "Don't try changing the subject, Two Hands. Did you really think I'd forget what happened at the church? That cutie who walked in."
That wiped her smile faster than any asswipe, and Two Hands reared her ugly head and hissed. "Shut the fuck up before I put one between those baby blues and watch them go Fucking purple."
While uncaring, Ginger inched her seat toward Nathan, whose eyes shifted from one deadly gunner to the other.
Taking a gamble, Nate repeated warily. "Cutie?"
"Oh yes. The rumor is, Two Hands over here has been around Roanapur with some guy for the past few weeks. They even spent time at an apartment and did not come out until morning. That's not even the best part, " Eda purred, never looking away from Revy's reddening face and noticing the eavesdroppers with teasing glee. "A few days ago, this nice piece of ass came walking into the church, asking some of the priests for Sister Yolanda. Must have been big stuff since the Sister told everyone to expect him, but that's baby shits to what happened during all that."
"Eda," Two Hands growled, crinkling her cards, her kings and queens crying out from her grip. "Shut-"
"While this was happening, Revy and I were doing our usual thing. Drinking at the chapel, chatting shit," Eda grinned, unafraid of the hellspawn sitting across from her, slapping her hand on the table. "On God's Word, I never thought I would see Two Hands turned so pale, her eyes so much like literal deers to fucking headlights, it was…."
Leaning back in her seat, Eda started busting her guts, not caring about the horn balls around the bar getting their fill of her bouncing rack.
Meanwhile, Ginger placed her arm in front of Haven's owner, subtly watching as Revy growled out threats and started slamming her fists against the table in a barely controlled rage.
Or was it embarrassing-
"Fuck Off!" Revy shouted, her face burning red in anger. "It was nothing!"
"Then explain why you hid in the confession booth the entire time he was there," Eda grinned evilly, her shades gleaming. "And didn't come out until an hour after he was gone."
Her fist pulled back, ready to fill the air with blood and pink shards, when the Yellow Flag's entrance opened and revealed…
Two Hands choked and suddenly froze. Puzzled, her friends, and the spectators, ready to see a deadly catfight, followed her gaze, and Eda's grin was like a cat catching a canary.
"Speak of the devil, and he shall appear," Eda jeered, only to be elbowed by a scowling Nate. "The Fuck?"
"Eda, read the fucking room," Nathan hissed while Ginger already had her hand on her CZ 75, her face scrunched up with a fierce desire to kill anything that could threaten her master.
Blinking, Eda lowered her smugness and looked around.
The chatter was practically a trademark of the Yellow Flag(right below weekly reconstruction) and was exchanged with tense silence that fit in with the aftermath of a firefight. The drunks and hookers were sober and turned off like they'd look happy to have blue tits rather than stay here. Everyone had a hand to a gun and looked ready to shoot that bastard with everything they had in their mags, regardless of who stood in the way.
And Revy.
She looked lost, lowering her fist to her side but doing nothing else. She didn't even reach for her pieces, unlike Two Hands, but what caught Eda's gaze was her face.
Shock, Confused, …understanding? So many emotions and not a single one was hostile.
Almost like…
Holy shit…
Curiosity eating her from the inside, Eda scanned the mysterious visitor.
Wearing a black long-sleeve shirt and black jeans with a white belt and blue sneakers, the guy entered the bar with a calm presence that should've made him invisible. Strapped to his shoulder was an EMG Hudson H9, a rare piece considering the manufacturer's bankruptcy. Nothing out of the ordinary, and carried a handsome enough face and even accessorized with the thin bead chain-
S/1.
"Oooh," Eda thought numbly, feeling her right hand subtly twitch, and her Glock 17L felt out of place in her holster. "If I didn't know Revy as well as I do, I understand hiding from this guy."
A dog tag.
An inscribed dog tag.
A Twilight's Tag.
An S-rank Twilight who surpassed Haven's Twilight.
He scanned the bar, no doubt knowing what killed the mood, but didn't mind it as his brown eyes zoomed in on the amber browns of Roanapur's deadliest dual wielder, who looked more like a child under his gaze before shaking her head and scowling fiercely.
"Where the fuck have you been, Rock?!" Two Hands shouted, annoyed, much to everyone's shock.
This Rock looks sheepish and rubs the back of his head with an awkward smile. A smile that felt off, but for her life, Eda couldn't figure out why.
"Sorry about that, Revy. Just got out of a job with Ms. Balalaika," Rock apologized. The bar shuddered at the idea of one of those monsters under the Fry Face's thumb. "She's…intense. The pay was nice, though."
"You're buying drinks for these drunks? Perfect." Snorting, she noticed the bar's silence and shouted. "What y'all fuckers looking at!?"
And just like that, asses slowly filled the seats, and the tension bled away as Rock decided to order drinks for everyone, much to Bao's dismay. Like that, boozes poured down throats, and hookers slipped tongues against their clients. The Yellow Flag was back to normal.
Well, except for the table seating Two Twilights.
"Well," Nate muttered, subtly forcing Ginger back into her seat. "Not many Twilights can leave Ergastulum, especially those with a rank above B."
"That's only true if you're born in Ergastulum," Rock nodded, resting his elbow on the table, sitting next to Revy. "The sad truth is that while the city was built to house Twilights, after the initial round-up, they stopped corralling more once the limit was reached. As a counter, certain countries enlist their Twilights as child soldiers who have to serve until they're expired," Rock sighed tiredly. "I happened to be one of few deserters who managed to get away with his life."
Unwilling to show anything, Nate nodded. "I have heard about such regiments, even encountered some of these soldiers. You're quite lucky."
"Thank you," He smiled, glancing around the table. "I'm sure you already know this, but I'm Rock."
"Just Rock?" Eda questioned, tipping her glasses.
"I have…complicated feelings about my old name," Rock explained, tilting his chin towards Two Hands. "It was Revy who nicknamed me 'Rock,' and I thought, why not keep it."
"I sure as shit wasn't going to say that complicated ass name," Revy stated, blowing smoke in his direction before laying her cards. "Three of A Kind, Bitches."
"Royal Flush," Ginger countered flatly.
"Fuck," Revy snapped, forced to watch as the scarlet bitch snatched half her hard-earned winnings.
"Never go big, or you won't go home," Nate smirked as Revy doused her cigarette and downed a glass of Bacardi. "Still, I'm surprised. Revy isn't the type to have interests."
Flipping him off, Revy smirked back. "Because my tastes are too sophisticated for you neanderthals."
"Spell sophisticated or neanderthals."
"Fuck no," Two Hand scoffed, looking to the side as Nate snickered.
Meanwhile, Rock noticed the American oddly silent and jerked his head ever so slightly. Her eyes went wide behind her glasses, but her mouth quickly curved into a flirty smirk.
"Well, he doesn't seem crazy like most of the lot," Eda breathed, catching the tensing of Revy's muscles. "And I'll admit, he's more handsome up close. What do you say about spending some-"
"Fuck off," Two Hands answered coldly, her eyes burning holes into the American's amused blues. "Go for some other dick, and I'll give zero shits, but he's off limits. So, Fuck off, Eda."
Glancing out of the corner of her eyes toward Haven's staff, Nathan silently snorted as Ginger slightly blushed while sneaking glances at its owner.
Glancing at the man in question, Eda smirked flirtily. "Sorry about her, handsome. She can be pretty irregular. You'll never know when she's going to blow her load. If you ever want to know a real woman," the American finished with a sexy wink that made some spectators wish it was them.
Rock chuckled awkwardly, eyes flickering towards the trembling time bomb next to him.
"Looks like the hookers got their work cut out for them today," Nate, Ginger, and Bao thought dryly.
Twisting her lips into an ugly snarl, Revy growled, standing from her seat. "Okay, Bitch! It's about time we fix that shitter you call a mouth!"
"Don't get your panties in a twist, Two Hands."
"The only thing I want to twist is your fucking neck!"
While this was going on, 47 was currently going to war with himself.
How the hell did things get so out of his control?
It's been three weeks since the Doves' introduction and approximately fifty-two days since his arrival in Roanapur.
Fifty-two days since he decided to live in Roanapur.
Him.
The World's most elusive assassin did the unthinkable and made permanent residence in a den of thieves.
And for what?
For the psychopath sitting next to him, spewing curses like she was a witch.
"Not like I'm any better," Rock thought bitterly, quickly masking this as he stopped the potential brawl by simply grasping her wrist and giving a stern look as she glared fiercely for stopping her rightful revenge. After a minute of looking into each other's eyes, Revy let out an annoyed snort before pulling her arm out of his grasp, taking her seat, and downing the rest of her glass.
As she refilled her glass, Rock pondered silently about his decisions as of late.
Hotel Moscow had sent a handful of requests that were a breeze for someone of his skill, but that wasn't the purpose. They wanted retribution for masquerading as one of their own. And since they couldn't kill him, they decided to go another route and build a face for him. They wanted to learn from him and find chinks within his armors. And if they couldn't find any, then Hotel Moscow would make dents and build leverage against him.
And he could respect Balalaika for that. If the roles were reversed, he'd be doing her the same thing.
And sadly, she wasn't the only one, but it wasn't her fellow Doves causing trouble.
Death apparently decided that 47 needed to make a face-to-face introduction to the doves and somehow managed to get World's approval.
No doubt another attempt at making his job harder for him, and he convinced the Arcana that this would help improve his tracking evasion skills.
Simpleton.
So, they somewhat know his identity, and Balalaika gifted him with Pensley's Cognoscenti 55 as a welcome present for his hand in dealing with Zilvanovitch. He says 'somewhat' because he spent three days stalking each of them as they went along with their lives without recognizing him, reassuring him that most of the cards were still in his favor.
And this was good practice, so Death got one out of two goals.
Good for him.
When he wasn't working on jobs like a mercenary, he had found a desolated building that was being used as a drug den, but what interested him was the abandoned space below, hidden away behind a well-concealed brick door. The basement was in a state of dilapidation, but even then, 47 could recognize the signs.
Reinforced pillars that could hold the building for another twenty years while being capable of being suitable cover in a firefight.
The debris would be swept away to reveal cement flooring and walls built with layers of soundproofing to prevent gunshots from being heard. Further down, after removing the closet, blocking the stairwell shows surprisingly well-preserved living quarters, consisting of a folding cot, desk, and dresser with now barren, safe, and faded pieces of money lying across the floor like someone carrying whatever they could in their arms.
It was clear that whoever built this was long gone and probably died. So, the owner wouldn't mind him taking over, would they?
It took approximately thirteen days to get everything set up to his high standard, including making a stop by the local arms dealer to acquire some additional arms and attachments; An SPAS-12 shotgun, M4A1 Carbine, Heckler & Koch MP5A2.
Even managed to persuade the Lagoon Company to offer their assistance in exchange for using his hideout as a safehouse should any problems occur.
On the other side, Clera delivered his old attire and equipment through the usual channels and transcripts for his identity: Rock.
S-ranked Twilight, a deserter of the Japanese Self-Defense Forces. Independent contractor associated with the Paulklee Guild in Ergastulum, which deals in mercenary work and handles long-term assignments across the globe. Currently, he's been hired by several organizations to act as outside assistance for these Roanapur's underworld at his leisure. However, he's allowed to accept contracts outside the city and will frequently leave the country.
All in all, the Twilight mercenary Rock was going off to a great start, but 47 was wondering if he was suffering a head concussion.
And it leads back to one question.
Why was he going so far for one person?
Could she be affecting him?
Like…
Thinking back, he recalled Clera asking about his progress with Revy.
"It's not going the way I hope it to," 47 admitted, going over the files. "She's building some mental strength, but I'm certain she is starting to build an attachment toward me. A beacon to guide her through the light. I'm afraid I've underestimated her mental illness's depth."
"You don't sound upset. Maybe you like that Ms. Lee got her eyes on you."
"That's not what I'm saying at all," 47 sighed, but Clera scoffed. "Are you sure?"
"What are you suggesting?"
Humming, Clera explained. "That you're trying to view this from an impersonal perspective when you're actually going through another crisis?"
Frowning, 47 countered, "A crisis? Me?"
"You know my ideology, Rokuro," 47's brow twitched at the casual reference. "They say fortune, both good and bad, come in threes, but that can be said for anything in life. For me, opportunities always come in threes as well. Three opportunities to murder, three to steal without getting caught, and three to make it big. But the greatest opportunity is a miracle that changes one's way of life, and such opportunities appear so scarcely that even three are a miracle. And throughout your life, you've already received two miracles, but you've never held onto them. First was Family, next was Kinship, and now," Clera smiled softly. "It could be something more."
"You're not making sense," 47 sighed, wishing he could feel frustration. "I left those lives behind because I can't be like them. I can't be normal. This world of assassination and deceit is all that I'm made for. Rebecca has nothing to do with-"
"Exactly, Rebecca Lee has nothingto do with our world, neither did the Church or that Manor. Every now and then, you find yourself caught in your own webs, outside your Identity Disturbance, which always seems to be the fondest moments of your life. It should be obvious what you're trying to do right now. You're trying to build a life outside your norm, beyond the barcode. You agree to turn a mentally ill woman towards normalcy when you've openly admitted to being inexperienced with normalcy. The blind teaching the blind has never been your specialty."
"Then how can I-"
"That's the problem, Rokuro. You can't save her, go can't whisk her away to a normal life in the suburbs where little Jimmy is throwing the Saturday paper off his bike and onto your sidewalk," Clera affirmed, the jostles in his ear telling him that she was twirling, a wine glass. "Whether she or both of you realize it, she's too valuable as her alter-ego, Two Hands possesses maneuverability that matches your standards. It's always the same people. They are… how to say… like buyers. They'll always go for the best products available if it benefits their company. This logic can benefit from the slave trade and how people exchange older models for fresh ones. I believe that, deep inside, you both know this to be true. So, instead of being a beacon to guide her toward the light, you've become a safety cord that pulls her gradually upwards but won't allow her to descend any further. Someone who can influence positivity while ensuring she doesn't become worse. And you, Rock, subconsciously madethat person."
Narrowing his eyes, 47 said. "That doesn't sound like me."
"No, it doesn't sound like 47, but it sure sounds like Rock. And from everything you've told me, Rock wants to be nothing more than attached to this girl."
"That's-"
"Here's my opinion. As your Handler, I'd say drop her like a bad habit before she contaminates you any further, but we're too deep into this to do such a thing since she's connected to our Doves. Which leaves my second opinion."
"Which is?" He muttered, having a bad feeling all of a sudden.
"As a friend," Clera's tone made it clear that she was smirking.
"Enjoy yourself and go wild. After all, it's not like you can escape Rebecca's grasp now, can you?"
Back in the present, Rock tightened his grip on his glass.
Clera was right. After their talk, he talked going over every possible scenario and found that all of this could've been avoided if he had been more rigid.
47 could've eliminated Lagoon Company and commandeered their ship; it wouldn't have been a difficult task either.
47 could've stayed in his makeshift cell on their boat, avoiding his confrontation with Rebecca
47 could've rejected her offer to drink, which would've distanced him from Lagoon Company.
47 could've done what Benny suggested and kept out of Anna and Colin's business, preventing Revy from developing an interest.
47 could've left with the young parents on their way to Canada.
47 could've made up something believable to fool Rebecca.
47 could've done anything differently.
47 didn't do any of that.
Rokuro did, and now here Rock is.
He really needs to stop letting others guide his actions.
Still, Rock promised to help this woman, and 47 didn't take such promises lightly.
"Let your eyes look straight ahead; fix your gaze directly before you. Give careful thought to the paths for your feet and be steadfast in all your ways." He muttered to himself but opened his eyes to Revy staring at him. "Yes?"
Narrowing her eyes, Eda responded. "Proverbs 4:25-26. Didn't think Twilights could be religious."
"Most aren't," Rock answered. "But I liked how exotic it sounds, so I've read through the bible every once in a while."
Removing her stare, Revy jeered. "I don't get why you'd even be interested in that shit. It sure isn't doing us any favors if there is a god."
He shrugged.
"It helps to get through the tough times."
Suddenly, a sluggish voice echoed, "What the hell could be trouble for some monsters?"
Turning his gaze ever slightly, Rock noticed a man within listening distance, past huddles of drunken fools, each leering at their table with apparent disgust or arousal. A gruff-looking man, big and buff, wearing a stretch faded tank top under a sleeveless jacket and badly torn jeans.
He looked at him with something akin to pity mixed with a rare moment of sobriety.
Sadly, the drunk was never known for their subtlety, and now he was attracting attention.
Downing his mug, He grinned roughly. "I have seen how you monsters fight across the battlefield back in my army days. They could never kill enough, whether friend or foe. They left mountains of bodies in their path, some with smiles as wide as their faces. Monsters, one and all of your lot."
"Excuse me, but if I were you," Nathan started politely, his stoic visage belied the cold murder in his eyes as he unknowingly caressed the hand of a now blushing Ginger. "I phrase my next words with extreme consideration."
Noticing Revy's murderous expression among the carefully neutral stares aimed at him, the speaker waved them off casually. "Now, don't get me wrong. I've got nothing against you, Twilights. Honestly, humans as a whole are hypocrites by nature. Humans developed the Celebret drug to be used as a bio enhancer by the Allied Forces. Human soldiers looked at the drug like candy because of its addictive nature. And yet, it's humanity that built up Twilights as monsters without origin," Taking another swig of his booze, he slammed the mug with a hearty sigh. "If Twilights are monsters, then humans are Devils. Uncontrollable, Greedy, every possible evil that ever existed was caused by humans, yet when one commits these evils, they're suddenly alienated from the rest of humanity. Why? Because they fell back into our base nature as animals of a distinct kingdom."
Intrigued, Rock asked. "That is quite an interesting statement to make, Mr…."
"Moores," The speaker replied. "And it's nothing. I've seen the depths of humanity's lust for evil across the war zones worldwide, so I can vouch for you when you've mentioned those concentration camps."
"Camps?" "Likes the Jews?"
"Exactly, but different," Moore grunted, glaring darkly into his mug. "Burner Sites, as the guards would call them. Facilities designed to educatestray Twilights into dedicating their lives to their country for no cost. Expendable super soldiers are what the warden calls them. Child killers are what I'd call them. And here I thought I'd seen the worst humanity had to offer during Vietnam. Live shootings to motivate maneuverability. If lucky, give meals once a week to inspire survivability in a scarce environment while stuffing the guards' fat faces. That's just off my head, so why continue when we have a survivor amongst us?" Moore held his mug out towards Rock, who internally sighed. "Why not tell the class about that kind of life, kid? Might get Some of these idiots off your back. After all, some of these dipshits were planning on taking a crack at you when you're nice and shit-faced.
"What!?" "Fucking Geezer!"
"Why Spoil A Good Pay Day!?"
"THE ONLY ONES WHO'LL BE PAYING ARE YOU FUCKERS IF YOU EVEN THINK ABOUT FUCKING TOUCHING HIM!?" Revy shouted, surprising everyone except those at her table.
"Knew it," Eda whispered as Nathan facepalmed. "She doesn't know how to be subtle, but that's the Two Hands we know."
"Two Hands defending someone?" "Something's wrong with this picture?" "Oi Bao! What The Fuck Is In These Drinks?"
"FUCK ALL OF YOU!? I'm not that kind of bartender!" Bao scowled.
"This is not gonna end well. Everyone's focus is on this table, and Revy's outburst isn't doing me any favors," 47 scowled mentally behind Rock's blank stare. " The longer this commotion goes, the more recognizable I'll become, and that already can't be avoided, thanks to Moores. Death must be smiling upon me, and he's loving every minute of this."
Tapping his finger against the hard surface, he knew that he only had seconds before things escalated beyond his control, but the only solution that could control the situation…
Telling these people-
Telling her-
His past.
No, No, No, NO, no.
Not the actual event, he reassured himself, but modifying them to ensure his secrecy while meeting their expectations would be a challenging task.
"But, I have no choice," 47growled before Rock let out a loud sigh, willingly causing a pause within the bar. "It was hell."
There was no better way to describe what he had been through.
Hell.
"There were dozens of us at the camp." "400 individual subjects during the initial testing. All children, with the oldest being 12."
"They said we were blessed with gifts no one else could do." "Our genetic material could bemore accepting of modification."
"I was just six years old when my parents gave me away," He said unevenly, holding his glass. "It was my sixth birthday when my family was murdered before my eyes. My brother tried to buy time for me to flee, but they made no exception as they only needed one. I was taken away by my family's murderers to be sold for a great price."
"They wanted to see if Twilight could increase their rank through mutational treatments."
They wanted to create the perfect being. A Class One Human.
"It. Was," Rock gritted out, the wine glass cracking in his grip, worrying everyone at the bar, some of them fingering their guns. "Hell."
While Ginger slowly pulled Nathan from his seat, the owner narrowed his eyes as Eda hummed silently; her eyes glowed an icy blue behind her pink shades, moving away from her seat. The only unaffected ones were Revy, whose eyes slowly turned glossy at his tone, and Moores, who huffed at the cowards trying to inch away from the powerful Twilight, who could be having a panic attack.
"That bad, huh?" He grunted, making those near him hiss at his stupidity.
"The things they did to us, saying that it would improve us. Day after day, the doctors and security would submit everyone to experiments beyond their darkest nightmares, and the subjects would die day after day. Like lambs to the slaughter, they just kept seeing how much we could take before our bodies finally gave out. People who disobey or fail to meet their expectations would be punished, most of the time just for the hell of it. There were escape attempts, but they'd always be taken back and re-educated, even if they never came back. They were examples; why wouldn't they be? Dozens of lives dropped at the tip of a hat. Those who lived past the initial testing were considered the most gifted, but the only thing we were was lucky."
"It got…better right?" Revy weakly muttered like she was in a better world.
"Not even close," He growled, no heat found in his lifeless voice. "All I could wish for was death. Even now."
Somehow, those words brought her back, and it PISSED her off.
Grabbing him by his collar, Two Hands forced 47 out of his seat, the table tipping over along with the chairs. The residents' hushed curses and panicked gasps filled the air as some looked forward to Two Hands' suicide. Her friends and Moores saw things differently. Ginger's eyes hardened as a similar event played through her mind.
Broken Souls. Never meant for each other, but found understanding through suffering.
Even if the pain was less than the other, it was still pain.
"Fuck off with that bullshit, you fucking HYPOCRITE!" Revy growled at his soft gaze, trapped in their own world, uncaring of the people around them, how they saw them, how weak they looked. "You think you're some corpse, then I'll gladly put one between your fucking eyes. No, that's too good for a shitty bastard like you, and you know that. So, quit your bitching about how tough you had it! Didn't you once tell me that the past doesn't control us!?"
"We all have lives. Lives that go beyond the blood and smoke. It's all about choosing how to pursue it," 47 stated, tossing her beretta back and turning away. "The past should not define the future. Then again, that is something only we can choose."
"Well, guess fucking what, Rocky Boy! You got something going with that, so let's give you the same spiel," Drawing him so close that he felt the spittle flying out of her mouth. "Our lives are fucked over by the retards and faggots who made us the killers we are, so fuck looking back how fucking pathetic our little shitty selves were and grow a pair. March forward with that shit held proud because if you don't, why did you come this far instead of deep-throating a knife."
Slowly, light returned to 47 as Moore smirked, watching Revy keep talking, never losing momentum.
"You didn't because somewhere in that black pit you call a soul, you want something out of this life, and whatever that something is, it's enough to make you wanna escape that hell camp and actually SUCCEED! You kicked ass and killed all who stood in your way. Why? Well, how the fuck should I know?! That something you figured out in this fucking hell we all live in!" Pointing to herself, Revy grinned sadistically, but those who knew her could see something gentle in her eyes. "But don't you worry too much. I'll be here to laugh as you screw up."
I owe you, said one soul to another, so trust me with your pain like you do with mine.
Trust?
Is that what's been building between her and his Rock persona?
No…
"Fine," Rockthanked, breaking through the fog as Revy released him, sparing the briefest of glances around the Yellow Flag. "I apologize for the scare. As you must already know, Twilights aren't exactly stable in every extent of the word."
Raising his mug for the human before him, Moores grinned. "Ain't nothing wrong with showing a little humanity every now and then. Even in a city like this, you'll find people with riches greater than any sheet of paper or jewelry scrap could ever make. You wouldn't believe the number of scums I've seen since coming to Roanapur, but hey. At least people pay for those bastards to get their just dessert."
With his lips curling, 47's laughter brought chills to almost everyone. "Actually, I could imagine it. Must be a high-paying job."
"Like you'd never believe." The bounty hunter smirked.
"Well, then, Mr. Moores," Rock smirked back, turning towards the door with Revy following behind. "I hope that we'll see each other again."
"You can count on it, kid!" Moores shouted out as the bar came alive.
Everyone wanted to know what the fuck just happened.
Back with the others, now residing at the counter, a new game was being made.
Bumping shoulders with Haven's owner, the American did what she did best.
"Five Hundred says those two are gonna be banging by the end of the week."
"Please, Revy's not the kind of gal," Nate scoffed before smirking mischievously. "Six months, tops. Six Hundred."
"I can't believe you bastards are gambling on her sex life," Bao scolded as he slid three hundred dollars their way. "They're too fucked in the head for sex, so I'll bet three hundred that she starts getting him for herself tonight."
"Big words from a bartender."
"Revy's been breaking my bar for five expensive years, but I think I know her well enough to say that she's got eyes on him. And if she happens to find herself a man, maybe she'll spend less time here…."
"You fucking wish." They deadpanned at the bartender.
Dropping his head, he whimpered. "Yes, I fucking do."
Suddenly, a thought ran through his mind.
"Then again, that was the guy who wrecked the bar a while ago. If he's as generous as I think, he might be willing to pay for the yacht that is his girlfriend'stab."
"B-Bao," Ginger stuttered, finally turning to her old shy self. "Are-Are you crying?"
"N-Nothing Red. Just-just wishing Revy the-the best of luck."
Sure he was.
"Nice ride?" Revy muttered, staring at the black armored car beside Rock, alone in the parking lot. "Connections?"
"Payback," He explained as his expression reverted to his stoic nature. "Balalaika wanted to get even with him for using Hotel Moscow as my cover for dealing with Mr. Chin, at your request. I estimate she's trying to make my time in Roanapur strenuous. Partially out of petty revenge, but mostly to test my skills and see how Hotel Moscow can benefit from them."
Pinching his brow, Rock grimaced. "And I doubt today hasn't done me any favors," Rock lowered his hand when he noticed Revy's discomfort. "And yet, this hasn't been a total loss. In fact, I'd call it an acceptable failure. Not many will be interested in hiring an unstable Twilight, especially when it's clear that one of the city's major players already has them under their thumb. So, while fading under the radar is no longer an option, being someone that unnerves others is a second best."
"I don't fucking understand all this espionage shit you don't," Revy scoffed, taking out a cigarette and taking a seat on the hood before staring Rock down. "But I have to ask, you good?"
"Rebecca Lee has nothingto do with our world," "Enjoy yourself and go wild. After all, it's not like you can escape Rebecca's grasp now, can you?"
Taking a seat beside her, they looked at the Yellow Flag. The light from inside pushed away the darkness as the moon hung over them.
"I've been with the ICA for over ten years," Rock started, finally taking a walk on the wild side. "And in that time, I've killed thousands, maybe more, without even realizing it. If it wasn't for my Handler's twisted sense of Justice, I'd be taking contracts for anyone and wouldn't have an issue."
Smoke trailed from her cancer stick as Revy muttered. "What'cha mean by that?"
"What I said back inside wasn't a total lie," He revealed, taking a deep breath. "I was the plaything to a mad scientist who wanted to prove that Class One could actually exist," Without pausing, he noticed her raised brow and explained. "Twilights, S-ranks included, are considered Class Four on the Chain of Human Augmentation, which consists of six separate classes. Class Five is where normal humans reside, like yourself."
"Not six."
Gulping silently, Rock sighed.
"Class Six are the failures that were unable to survive the attempts to become Class One. If they survived but were flawed in any conceivable way, they would be lowered to Class Two. Despite its role in creating Twilights, Celebret is considered a Class Two."
"And Three?"
"Hunters, a small group of semi-Twilights who lack the natural disadvantages while possessing greater physical conditions."
Nodding, Revy exhaled some smoke into the air before inquiring. "Where do you stand in that Chain?"
"See for yourself," With a weak chuckle, He leaned forward until Revy could see the back of his neck. When Rock moved his hair aside, Revy could see his tattoo in close detail and felt a shiver crawl down her spine.
It really was a barcode.
64-05-09-04-01-47
Pulling himself up, Rock explained. "The project began on September Fifth, 1964, the 64, 05, and 09. The 04 means I was a part of the group known as the Fourth Series, and I was the first chosen patient out of the Fourth-Seven subjects within that series," 47 lowered his voice to what he hoped was a solemn whisper. "I was the First successful attempt at a Class One Human. The Pinnacle of Humanity's Genetic Potential. The Perfect Being. The World's Greatest Contract Killer."
Twirling his finger, Rock said. "Woooooooo…"
"What about-"
"Revy, there was no one else. By the time I escaped, I was the sole survivor, and even that wasn't enough for Him. When I cried, the doctor developed chemotherapy that dampened my ability to express & feel genuine emotions."
Perfection doesn't need emotion.
"It took me years to develop acting skills so flawless that I can perfectly play out any emotions," Rock muttered, clenching his fists, never noticing Revy stomping out her cigarette. "When the doctor found out a guard was beating me, he had me practice every martial art known to the man until a thirteen old boy could cripple a thirty-one man.
Perfection must not be weak.
"I look at people as potential hazards and create countless ways to end them," Rock scowled, never noticing that Revy was standing right in front of him and about to take a walk of her own. "I-"
Perfection-
Revy.
Holding his shoulders, She cut him out by pressing her own lips against his and didn't separate from him until she was damn sure that his breath was taken away.
Pulling away, Revy rested her forehead on Rock's and finished. "-am now mine. So, shut the fuck up because I don't want to see you acting so bitchy over something that already happened. Now listen, we're both fuckedup in our own special way, so why not work to fix ourselves in our own way. You've been helping me, so I guess I have to return the favor. And if you have any problems with this. Now's the time?"
For the first time in his life, the words that slipped through 47's lips were not his own.
They came from somewhere deep inside.
Somewhere he thought…
…He didn't know?
"I want this."
"Good, then you're mine now." Patting his shoulder, Two Hands let out a short shout of triumph and grinned. "Fuck, that felt good."
"Seems like you're different now," Rock breathed out.
"Fuck no," Revy snorted. "Two Hands lives to take the most valuable things and keep them for herself. And right now, she just stole the heart of the world's best assassin. That's worth celebrating with a few drinks at the best watering hole this crappy city has to offer."
"For stealing 47's heart?"
"That's your code name? Fuck, now that's crap," Taking Rock by his shoulder, Two Hands grinned savagely. "Besides, you managed to snag Roanapur's baddiest bitch for yourself, so you need some of the finest shit in your gut. Asap."
"I literally can't get drunk."
"A challenge," Revy gladly accepted, pulling him towards the door. "Finally. I was getting piss-bored of all these lightweights, and Eda doesn't count because her guts are usually filled with something else, so they dilate the booze for her."
Before he could respond, his phone started ringing. Stopping Revy(without her releasing his arm), 47 answered the call, but Clera stopped him from speaking.
"Don't speak. If I've done the math right, you have Rebecca in your arms or near romantic intentions. If not, then end this call."
After a moment, Clera sighed with relief, making 47 knit his brow.
"Alright. Then, I'll let myself start by saying I just want to say that I was hoping for this to happen. I know that there might be times when you think I'm only interested in using you for your impressive skill set, but the truth is that you're my best friend, 47. You've gone along with my ideals, even when you believe you have no interest in yourself, so I wanted to help you in any way I could. However, whenever an opportunity arrives, you abandon it, so…."
This was the first time 47 had heard Clera tongue-tied, but it got him thinking.
Clera convinced him to donate some of his pay toward the Church.
Clera tried to persuade him to contact the Manor, but he felt it would endanger those involved.
It was Clera…who wanted to bring Justice to a world without.
Sneaking a glance at a curious Revy, 47 felt his lip tug.
"Clera, it's Rock," He said, smiling. "Thanks… for everything."
Hearing breath hitch briefly in his ear, Clera let out a soft laugh.
"No problem, Rock. I'll contact you when an assignment arrives but until then. Good Luck."
Nodding, Rock ended the call before gesturing to Revy to lead the way, which she did earnestly.
"Bao, give my boy Rock and me here some Bacardi. All you've got. Hey, Eda, guess what?"
"Wait. Why is Bao crying a fucking river?"
"He just won one thousand four hundred bucks."
"Lucky him, so who are the poor bastards he ripped off?"
""Shut up, Revy!""
Revy started busting her guts as Eda and Nathan chewed her out.
Chuckling, Rock accepted the second glass given by Moores, whose old eyes gleamed.
"Nice to see you again, Mr. Moores."
"And the same to you, Rock."
They clicked their glasses and savored the company around them.
Fudge, was that a roller coaster or what? I wondered if I could manage a romance between those two, but then it hit me. They aren't normal.
They're insane.
How they get together shouldn't be drawn out like in the manga because Rock knows about her insecurities and has been aiding in managing them. I could've made a longbuild-upwith Rock sharing his past, but this helped convey that while Rock is 47, he isn't the 47. He isn't a clone. He was a child taken away from his home along with so many others and treated to the worst treatment imaginable for human curiosity.
He's insane, and so is Revy.
Don't think this will ruin any suspense cause Rock's past will catch up to him in ways you'll be dreaming of.
Anyway, this concludes his setupto Roanupur.
Next chapter will have him going out and back to work.
Later.
P.S. I'll be working on finishing up Omni Neptune Arc, and then I'll being planning for Formula Zero. I know I said that would work on other stories until planning is finished, but I really liked what I've done so far with King's Throne and Barcode. So, maybe I having something whipped up for both when the drafting is complete.
Who knows :P
Any way leave a Review and tell what you think?
Goodbye, for real this time. Have a happy holiday