Chapter 54 – Viewer Discretion Advised

An unexpected client comes to Team Job with a request for some under-the-table work.

His whole life, Jaune had never understood how people could fall so low as to become the tragic victims of loan sharks, predatory banks, or high interest money lenders. He certainly empathized with these folks, as he was a kind and caring person, but it had been a mystery why someone would ever willingly put themselves in such a position. Like, everyone knew debt with high interest would only ever breed more debt, so why start it in the first place?

Well, now he knew two possible answers. One of them was a high tech, futuristic Hard Light camera.

Regarding the first reason, weapon repairs were far more expensive than he'd realized. Blake's sword was rebuilt by the same blacksmith, and it only cost them about their entire bank account – 78,500 lien, to be precise. That left Team Job with an extremely small fortune left over, but Blake wasn't the only person who needed to spent money in order to make money.

"I can fix Anesidora, but it's not going to be cheap," Velvet had said. "I built it, and I can rebuild it, but it fell from a height of about 50 feet, and unlike me and my big old tummy, it lacks aura."

"How many parts do you need?" Jaune has asked, looking over the remnants of the camera Velvet held in both palms. It's casing was cracked so much that Jaune expected it to disintegrate at any moment, but he was well aware that external appearances mattered less than the internal mechanisms through which Hard Light was processed into the potential for destruction in the shape of a sword, gun, lance, or whatever form Velvet chose.

"It's more durable than it looks," Velvet said proudly. "Most things survived intact, but I'm gonna have to disassemble the whole thing to know just what broke. Already, I can tell that pentaprism is shattered, which is 10k right away. Otherwise, I'd at least be able to see through the viewfinder when I try to take a picture. I'll let you know when I have a comprehensive list of parts I need."

Team Job was paying for Blake's sword from their mutual funds, so it was only fair that they paid for Velvet's camera as well. That meant that their leftover lien was already consumed by what was known to be broken, and what was broken but unknown would only dig the hole deeper.

Crocea Mors was unharmed, and it filled Jaune with a glorious sense of relief. He didn't blame the others one bit for their weapons costing the team as a whole, but had it been him who dragged them down, he would never have been able to not blame himself.

Not that I think the girls should feel ashamed. It's just that I'm already a burden, untrained fraud that I am, and if I not only couldn't pull my weight but also started dragging them down, I'd feel like a real pile of dung.

He'd said that there were two reasons that Team Job was going to have to take out a lone, but in reality, it was more like one and the same, merely split into two parts – the physical and the spiritual. The second reason, where it didn't overlap with the first, was hope.

Jaune grew up believing that debt was something fools and leeches got themselves into because of poor business choices, but with his own company on the line here, things looked entirely different. No longer was it taking out money that one couldn't pay, with the inevitability of defaulting and declaring bankruptcy. Now, it was the fate of Team Job, the egg balanced on the blade of a knife. On one side lay success and prosperity, and on the other lay utter financial ruin. The way the egg rolled depended on nothing more than which way they chose to push it, and getting that loan (and thereby enabling them to take tougher jobs that required them to be armed) was a heady gust of wind.

On a less metaphorical and poetic note, the interest rates would be fucking them up their assholes, raw and lube free.

"We could get a better offer from a less reputable source, but we're not some scumbags," Blake explained. "Our credit rating will suffer if we have some grimy loan shark on record as having lent us money, whereas taking it from one of the principal banks and paying it back in full might actually improve it."

"But isn't a credit rating only meant to help us get a loan?" Jaune asked. "Why worry about how taking a loan out will affect it, if it only changes after the loan?"

Blake shrugged. "Do you really wanna gamble on this being the last time we ever borrow money?"

And that was how Jaune found himself n̶e̶c̶k̶ ̶d̶e̶e̶p̶ in c̶r̶i̶p̶p̶l̶i̶n̶g̶ debt, the one position he'd never though he'd be in.

Okay, one of the two positions I'd never thought I'd be in, if we include behind bars with a criminal record. Of course, Beacon would see me there anyways if they had the choice, and there's a very real possibility that Goodwitch will use her semblance to expand her own butt and pull some made-up charge out of there from the night we all stopped a murder she was going to permit from happening, so I guess the jury's still out on that one.

In the end, it was four days before Team Job was fully armed, which happened to be quite convenient, as it was five days before they received their next job.

Velvet worked relentlessly the entire time on her camera, and Jaune acted as her gopher to purchase her the parts she needed as she requested them. Meanwhile, Blake went out and obtained the loan from the bank that would actually fund the camera parts.

When Anesidora was fully armed and operational, able to photograph and produce a Hard Light copy of both Crocea Mors and Gambol Shroud as test subjects, Team Job had only paid 31,200 lien. Velvet ascribed the lower cost compared to Blake's repairs from the fact that so much of the cost was a blacksmith's labor.

"The raw materials like iron, steel, copper, plastic, glues, and whatever else are needed tend to be cheap as dirt," she explained. "Parts cost more because someone's either assembled those raw materials into a useable form or had a proprietary machine do it. Then, one level up, a blacksmith would have taken those formed primary parts and assembled them, charging for his or her time as necessary."

"But you're our blacksmith," Jaune said, nodding as he followed her lesson along.

"Only for Anesidora."

Because of Valean standards being utterly absurd when it came to lending money, they had to take out a loan of 50,000 lien. It was literally the bare minimum amount, and smaller denominations weren't permitted.

Jaune wasn't sure if it had something to do with Blake being a Faunus. She had to be the one to go, as only he had no idea what the process for it was and Velvet was busy, but it was the first time they'd sent someone other than their blond-haired, blue-eyed human boy on a job requiring interpersonal interactions, and it ended in highway robbery…or had it? On the one hand, banks tended to be less prone to discrimination, as they had more to lose to lawsuits when employees frivolously applied personal biases.

But they might have also suspected they could get away with it. If a rich, human banker truly were racist, they might genuinely believe she was a simpleton who would be easily had.

But she's not, so I'll assume she got us the best deal…possible.

20% interest compounded monthly did not sound like an objectively good deal, but it was compared to 37.5% simple interest. AP Math had gone over how compound interest was the work of the God of Darkness, but Team Job was expecting to pay off this loan within 2 months or so. In that time, the loan they had would only increase in value by about 1,700 lien, whereas the simple interest loan would be almost 3,000 lien higher. Sure, they would save money if they played the 35% simple interest for the long game, but that would something like 6 years before it actually eclipsed the 20% compound.

What's important to remember is that we still have almost half of the loan in cash right now. We make about 12,000 lien per mission of pure profit, meaning it's only two-ish jobs before Team Job is debt free.

On that note, a client wandered into their office on the fifth day of their intermission following the miserable Beacon work they'd done.

The way this guy was dressed in business semi-formal attire, Jaune initially thought that he was from the bank, coming to discuss the loan or something. However, he disabused Jaune and the rest of the team of that notion rather shortly.

"Team Job, I presume?"

Jaune stepped forward and offered the man a hand to shake. "That's what it says on the door, sir. Jaune Arc. Pleased to meet you."

"Likewise," the dude said, returning the handshake. To Jaune's surprise, he offered one to Velvet, who was next to Jaune, as well. "Charmed."

Velvet smiled broadly as they touched hands. Blake received the last shake, and then the man stepped back from them.

"Now, then. My name is Cuba Maroonette, and I'm here representing an institution that would like to hire your services."

"I understand." Jaune gestured to the chair. "Would you like a seat?"

"No, but thank you for offering." The man shook his head. He was a middle-aged gentleman, rather skinny compared to the average joe, with a small circle of bald scalp forming at the top of the black hair on his head. "I don't intend to stay long."

"You said you represent someone?" Jaune asked. "And they wish to hire us?"

"Precisely. My client is an individual of high renown in the government of Vale…that is to say, 'council' high. He and his wife were on a private retreat at a wilderness lodge for purposes of leisure, but a Grimm attack has recently put them in danger."

"Oh, crud," Jaune said, forgetting himself. But still – him? Being asked to save the life of a councilman of Vale?

We're suddenly getting all of these big level, high responsibility jobs. Seriously, what's going on?

"I understand the confusion; allow me to explain. The lodge in which they are staying is the finest money can buy – all peak safety features installed, automatic short-range turrets, a built-in bunker-slash -panic room. Suffice it to say, the residents of the complex are perfectly safe behind the existing defenses."

"Alright," Jaune said. "So how can we help?"

"Unfortunately, the lodge is located on a mountainside, and poor land management resulting in enough snow building up to trigger an avalanche when the turrets, which happen to generate a high decibel noise when fired, destroyed the Grimm. The snowfall was minor and did not even reach the lodge, but the nearby helipad and chopper was rendered unflyable."

Ah, so that was what this was. Team Job wasn't necessarily the best in the business of Grimm-slaying, especially for a councilman who could afford the far greater rates that hunter charged, but this wasn't about slaying the Grimm. It was a mere chauffeuring job, one that their old airship taxi service Benson could have done if not for the potential wildcard posed by Grimm.

They need someone who can fly the trapped folks up there out while also defending them from any terrestrial Grimm on the ground or avians who try to cancel takeoff.

"I think I understand, sir," Jaune professed. Team Job can certainly handle that."

The Job Hunter isn't exactly a large bird, but I'm sure we could fit a councilman and his wife.

"There's…ahem…a slight complication," Mr. Maroonette hummed. "A minor point I would like to make about why your team was chosen as opposed to others."

"O-Okay. Uh, shoot."

"We are willing, with we in this case referring to the council, to provide triple your typical rates in exchange for there being no formal record of this mission ever taking place. Furthermore, we would like you three to sign an NDA promising you will conduct this mission discreetly. No mentions of it to the press, essentially."

That was kind of odd. Jaune glanced to his right, where Blake was, hoping she might take over for him here. He was the client guy, but Team Job's business was her department.

The nonverbal message was received. "Might I inquire as to why we're being asked this?" Blake asked. "I'd like to pre-emptively state that Team Job will categorically refuse any illegal or unethical missions."

Mr. Maroonette clicked his tongue. "Ethics may be involved here, but we are not asking you to do anything other than the task I request of you – evacuate the councilman and his wife."

"Then why the NDAs?" she responded.

"The nature of the wilderness retreat at which the councilman is staying is…abnormal. Should it be leaked to the public, the council would face no small quantity of embarrassment over a recognized member attending such a function."

"If we're going there, we'll find out anyways," Blake said. "It'd be better if you just told us. I said we don't do unethical jobs, but we're willing to overlook something like big game hunting without a license."

"The retreat is for couples," Mr. Maroonette, not breaking from his professionality even once, intoned. "That is to say, couples who wish to partake of experience beyond the realm of wedlock, including acts that may be characterized as inappropriate for sitting councilmembers."

"Ohoho, now we're talking turkey," Velvet cut in. "Lemme guess…Pink Fever? Big Biggie's Many Flavors? Sing'n'Swing? No, wait, that last one's not in the mountains…"

The client actually blinked in surprise and lost his stoic demeanor, if only for a moment. "P-Pink Fever Hedonism Resort, as a matter of fact. How did you…?"

Velvet grinned. "I'm loosely familiar with all the greats. So, do you happen to have those NDAs on hand?" Velvet flicked her wrist and twisted her fingers. "I don't think Team Job's gonna have any ethical problems with this one."

"You really didn't need to read every single word of those forms sixteen and a half times, Blake," Velvet called from the cockpit. "If you guys are okay with the tomfoolery I get up to, then there's no way you'd be offended by Pink Fever."

"Always read before you sign," Blake said, shaking her head. "We'd sign away our rights if we didn't. There was no telling what subclause they could have hidden in the fine print. For all we knew, it might have been affidavits attesting to our criminal actions that we'd have signed if we didn't."

Jaune found himself siding with the cat Faunus on this one. Beacon tended to work closely with the council, given that Ozpin had a conditional seat on the latter, and it wasn't farfetched to suspect some sort of scheme at play here. The distance of five days was enough to concoct and execute a plan to discredit Team Job, if the huntsman academy were so inclined.

Of course, there was nothing about the official line that didn't check out. Team Job was a trio of nobodies, so hiring them for an under-the-table secret mission was believable. Hunters would have the freedom to decline such a mission if it offended them, but not the easily bought security consultants who were currently flying the Job Hunter to the resort's coordinates.

Jaune could see the occasion Grimm flock or pack as he looked out the window, and it only served to remind him of how long it had been since he'd actually slain a normal monster.

We had our teleporting huntsman murderer, and Tyrian before him. Prior to that was the joint operation with Ruby, where we fought Sulfur Fish – I guess it'd be them. But geez, that was almost three weeks ago.

And before that, we had the Grimm cacti – hardly normal Grimm by any metric – and the assassins trying to kill Mr. Alizarin. We fought bandits before that, meaning that only two of the six past missions actually pitted us against Grimm.

"Isn't that weird?" he said aloud.

"Huh?" Blake asked. "You say something?"

"Of the six most recent missions we did, only one of them put us face to face with a mobile creature of Grimm that could fight back," Jaune said.

"Tuberculosis cacti don't count?" Blake tacked on, getting a nod from Jaune.

"I guess." Blake scratched at her chin and raised an eyebrow in thought. "Yeah, no, you're right. Maybe we're getting typecast as specialized in sapient-being combat." She frowned. "Not exactly what I'm hoping for, but I guess debtors can't be choosers."

"It's Tubercules," Velvet corrected, calling back to them as piloted. "And for comparison, I'd venture to say that a good 70 to 75% of my missions as a huntress were against Grimm back in the day. Take it with a grain of salt, though, since I was only a student back then. Also, I feel obliged to point out that I've only ever run seven missions with the team, so when you say our six most recent…"

"What?" Jaune asked, astounded. "That can't be. You've been with us forever now."

"Nah. Plain old Grimm, bandits, time-traveling spacefarmer, Tubercules, Mountain Glenn doomsday people, Tyrian, and the most recent one, but that was technically not a mission since no one hired us. One, two, three, four, five, six."

The plain recounting of their time together left Jaune speechless. In spite of the truth in her words, Jaune somehow felt like he, Blake and Velvet had been the best of friends for their entire lives. They all had laughed together, hunted together, bled together, won together, lost together…was it really only six missions?

"Holy shit." Blake whistled loudly. "I just realized – we only did four missions together before that, Jaune. Team Job only just hit the double digits today."

"The big ten," Jaune said idly, smiling.

Velvet called out from the front of the ship. "Big six for me, but I like that better because six sounds like…oh, speak of the God of Darkness, we're here."

Coming Soon: Hot Pink

Velvet's dreams come true.

Author's Notes

Time for some f*****, and maybe a little h**** a**** s**. If we're lucky, we might even detect a hint of l***-a*** p**** i********.

But no lemons, btw.

Happy rats, and don't do crime!