New Wine in Old Bottles [solo]

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Eireen sighed, her silver eyes scanning over the city of Crocus.  She was gazing at the busy streets from the shadows of one of the many alleyways, leaning against a building with her arms crossed.  Once again, she had returned to the city intending to end the life of yet another person.  It really was a happy accident that her personal target was also on a hitlist.  Apparently, some people really don’t like this “Gregor Cassel” person, although Eireen couldn’t really bother herself over why.  She knew all the information that Chance had deemed important for the sake of assassination, but that didn’t include the “why”.  She could recite the man’s medical history, alcohol tolerance, his complete schedule for the past three days, and more, but didn’t actually understand why she was going to kill him.  Well, Eireen herself was trying to kill him for the sake of her own gain, but otherwise, she doesn’t really know.

“Hey, Chance, why do people want this guy dead?”

The ethereal didn’t respond immediately, but it wasn’t long until his voice echoed through the mage’s head.  “It’s his policies.  They favor the weak too much, so a lot of influential people don’t appreciate their way of life being threatened.  Apparently, just bribing him doesn’t work, so they’re resorting to extreme lengths.  It isn’t like you really need to understand any other that, though.”

Eireen barely managed to suppress her laughter, “Seriously?  So this time it’s a politician who fights for the weak and garbage like that?”

“Huh, you don’t think it’s kind of noble or anything like that?” Chance said, seeming almost hesitant with his words.

The reaper shook her head, “I mean, if people are weak, that’s on them.  It’s a flaw for them to expect the strong to have any desire to protect them when the strong are the ones who set up all the rules.”

Eireen could detect just how apprehensive Chance was on the topic as he delayed replying.  After all, it wasn’t really under his jurisdiction to probe her on her personal opinions.  Especially if it was something as tentative as her opinions on the target she was meant to assassinate.  “Well, I-”

Suddenly, a chorus of footsteps echoed through the alleys behind her, prompting the ethereal to hush up quickly. “Ah, my little honey trap has already caught some flies.” Eireen grinned as she turned towards the source of the voices.  “Time to get to work.”

One of the main things about the assassination is not what you do when you’re faced with the target, but instead what happens beforehand.  Did you properly set up the scene to be in your favor?  Have you fully thought about all variables?  If you don’t perfectly tailor the entire scenario, who knows what kind of variables could throw off your kill.  Perhaps a witness will walk in at the last moment when you were trying to create a murder that looked like an accident, creating another body you have no preplanned way to deal with.  Honestly, just going around and murdering people was much easier than doing things discreetly.  But for someone like Eireen, that distinction wasn’t all too important for this specific job.

“Hey, lassie.  Do you have any cash on you? If you don’t…”  A ragged looking man said, his gaze passing over Eireen’s body.  Behind him stood two other thugs, one of which was equipped with a metal bat.  The lead man’s hand reached towards her, a wicked grin slowly forming over his face.  Those three were the very definition of street degenerate, living trash that made you want to gag just by talking to them.  However, the fact they chose to approach Eireen at all was a sign that they were just a bunch of small fries who couldn’t even use magic.

However, she simply slapped his hand away, her silver gaze cool.  “Now, I think you shouldn’t be calling me lassie…”  In an instant, her fist whisked out and implanted itself right in the thug’s face.  He went barreling backward, his lackeys staring at Eireen with a stunning look in their face.  “I’m your… what do you call it?”

“A wi-wizard?!”  The man who just got punched struggled to say, he and his friends backing away in terror.

“Aw, don’t be afraid.”  Eireen’s smile was soft and sweet, yet it was obvious through her uncaring eyes that it wasn’t a gesture of kindness.  “I’m your big sis, now, right?  You lot are under my authority.”  The thugs continued to back away, but her slow, methodical steps followed.  No one gave a hog’s ass about their lives, they were already deep in the dirt.  So when they found the dead-end, their faces displayed the pure fear they harbored in the face of death.

“Wait, please…!”  One thug wearing a bandana said, putting his hands in front of his face.  “I'll give you anything you want-!”  A spear flew a hairs length away from his face, impaling the brick wall behind him.

“Do you think you lot have something I want?”  Despite her easy-going atmosphere, the thugs could barely speak under the pressure she exuded.  “Well, I guess you do have something I want.  After all, you guys are the types I like dealing with the most, the ones that put themselves first before anything else.”  She walked up to the man in the bandana landing a chop on the top of his head.  “You guys are the kind I can understand the most, so its easier to control you.”  She drove her elbow into the thug with the metal bat.  “And strength is always the perfect way to manipulate a bunch of cowards like you.”  Her fist once more found its way to the lead thug’s face, leaving the three passed out in the middle of the dark alley.

After all, the one problem she had with the job was the fact someone actually needed to take credit for it.  And the nature of Hidden Blades… well, let’s just say Eireen definitely wouldn’t ever be able to escape them if she ever outed them.  So, why not just make up a group that could take the credit?  It couldn’t just be made up of Eireen, so the perfect candidates would be the weak-willed thugs who were already familiar with the workings of the underworld.  The reaper couldn’t help but grin as she sat down on a stack of crates next to the trio.  Having a little puppet gang could really be helpful for the future as well.

word count: 1092
thread word count: 1092/2500

The first one to recover from Eireen’s blows was the thug she’d hit in the gut.  But that was only reasonable when she’d bashed the other two on their heads.  Additionally, among the three, his physique seemed to be the best.  You could see his muscles ripple despite the presence of clothes and he was much taller than his two associates.  That with his shaggy blonde hair and cold gray eyes, you’d think he’d have a lot of other stuff to do rather than mug some chick in an alleyway.  There were three things that Eireen believed women valued: looks, looks, and aesthetics.  The guy had to be taller than them, super fit, super hot, and they needed to fit in with their ideal of a boyfriend.  The bat guy could probably fit into the “strong, silent type”, so good for him.  However, that didn’t mean the reaper would hesitate before she drove her foot into his gut once more, prompting the man to shrivel in pain.

“Hey there, sweetheart, you’ve woken up first.”  She said, smiling down at the thug.  “Help your companions wake up too, okay?”

“Why-”  Yet another kick found its way to his stomach.  Well, despite the ruthless way Eireen was treating him, he had asked for it.

“Whoops, my foot slipped.”  Eireen droned monotonously, her smile disappearing as the thug vomited on the pavement.  “I may look all relaxed or whatever, but I actually have a lot to do.  You understand, right?”

The hardy man only grimaced as he shakily propped his body up against a wall.  “Hey, you’re still alive, right?”  He murmured as he shook the through wearing a black and white bandana.

“Mnh, what...?”  The thug’s eyes fluttered open after only a few firm shakes.  “Is she gone?  That crazy bi-”

“Hey, maybe you should check your surroundings before talking about me like that?”  The thug’s drowsiness quickly disappeared the moment he heard the mage’s voice, the man quickly scrambling to his feet.  He stood erect, arms shaking by his side.  But the more she looked at the bandana guy, the younger he seemed.  His scruffy hair was dark brown, and his eyes were even darker, and seeing his pupils quiver made Eireen feel a bit guilty.  He probably thought she was one of those crazy dark mages who went around killing people -- well, that wasn’t actually inaccurate.  The biggest difference between Eireen and many of her contemporaries was that she tried not to murder for her own convenience.  Well, that didn’t matter when it came to labeling people as “murderers”, did it?  Kill someone because you feel like it, kill someone because you have no choice, it’s all just semantics.  All the mage needed to worry about was the fact they weren’t the targets for her job or her assignment from Destiny.  And thus, she had no reason to take their lives.  But that didn’t mean she’d let the “crazy bitch” comment slide.  Come to think of it, wasn’t this kid the one who tried negotiating with her?  She’d let him off with a pretty light blow for being mouthy, but maybe he'd need to be hit one more time?

Bandana kid stiffened slightly as Eireen slid off the stack of crates she’d been perched on and closed the distance between herself and the thugs.  The hardy one that’d woken up first didn’t even seem to be entirely conscious, so it was only expected that he’d be spooked by Eireen.  However, seeing him cower in fear really dampened any anger she harbored.  The more she thought of it, the less unreasonable the comment seemed.  When compared to the general populace, the reaper too felt as if she were off her rockers.  Bandana boy really was just a kid, but for her plan to work she couldn't allow herself to give the thugs any leeway to disobey her.

With a placid, unreadable expression, Eireen cooly pushed the bandana kid onto the ground to little resistance.  Perhaps he was too scared to move properly?  But before he could calm his nerves, Eireen pressed her foot into his calf.  The unnerving sound of cracking and bandana kid’s pained cries filled the alleyway, but it wasn’t like anyone would come to help him.  Eireen had already requested that Chance form a soundproof barrier around her and the thugs, wasn’t her foresight phenomenal?

“Ugh… huh?!”  Ah, it seemed like the final sleeping beauty finally gained consciousness.  His left eye was surrounded by an ugly ring of purple from Eireen’s punch, but perhaps it’d be wise to add more?  “What the-- please don’t hurt me!”  The lead thug hurriedly got to his feet, his mustard-colored eyes taking in the sight of his battered companions.

Eireen finally stepped off the bandana kid’s leg, a false smile spreading across her visage.  “You sway that, but you planned on mugging me, right?  You’ve probably harassed a bunch of innocents, so why should I let you get away?”

The lead hooligan stiffened slightly, “We just started recently!  Our base is small, we don’t even have any real territory-- O-Oh!  I’ll return the money we’ve taken!  I still remember the faces and names of everyone we’ve taken things from, so-”

“I think you misunderstand me, good sir.”  Eireen’s smile widened, “I frankly don’t care in inkling about what you’ve done.  No matter what, there’s no atoning for pure human trash.”

The thug widened in dread as his knees gave out, leaving him to limply kneel on the ground.  “Then… what do you want?”  He looked up towards Eireen, tears barely contained, “What do you want from me!?”

The mage couldn’t help but smirk at this point, her silver gaze traveling from the destitute leader, the kid holding back groans of pain, and the man dazedly leaning against the wall.  They’d been beaten and brutalized by she-- an unknown yet deadly individual-- and were now desperate to hold onto their lives.  As living trash, they’d probably value their life over all things, so when making “deals” with said life at stake…

“It’s simple: become my slave.”

They couldn’t afford to say no.

word count: 1021
thread word count: 2113/2500

“Eireen.”  Chance’s voice echoed through Eireen’s mind.

“Yes, my lovely Chance?”

“Don’t-”  He sighed, “Where are you going with this?  It’s far too odd, even for you.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”  The silver-haired mage insisted, sketching out a variety of shapes across the map before her.

She was currently in the dingy basement her slaves had referred to as a hideout.  She was glad they had anywhere to call theirs at all, but the dim lighting, plain concrete walls and floor, and the cobwebs really didn’t help her impression of the place.  But when she had Hidden Blade’s location in Crocus to compare it too, there wasn’t any competition in the first place.  Eireen was sitting on the only chair in the place, writing using a well-used table.  Perhaps it’d seen a battle or two because it seemed to be held together primarily with glue and duct tape.  Sure, the silver-haired mage was only wearing a tank top, jean shorts, and sneakers, but even her attire seemed too put together for such a miserable place.  Taking her eyes away from her paper for a moment, she cast her gaze at her three slaves kneeling on the floor at the other side of the table.  They had led her to this place the moment she asked, and it seemed like the entire building was abandoned.  However, the rest of the building was somehow even more atrocious than the basement, so that's where they set up base.  But it was enough to fulfill her purposes, so who really cared?

“Okay Eireen, is this going somewhere or…?”

“Hey, I’m doing what you told me to.  Just clamp up and leave me to my own devices.  You’ll get the soul you want in the end anyway.”

Chance let out a small huff, a sound childish compared to his usual mannerisms.  “Fine then!  You want to be independent?  You’ve got your independence!  I’ll just go file reports or something.”  The ethereal muttered, his presence fading from Eireen’s mind.

The reaper let out a small sigh, “That guy, sometimes he’s so immature.”

“H-Huh?”  The lead thug uttered, his eyes wide.

“Oh, did I say that aloud?”  Eireen lifted her eyes to meet with her slaves’ gazes.  “Don’t mind me, I was just talking to myself… oh, I might as well get down to business now.”

The lead thug ran a hand through his lightly colored locks.  “S-So, who are you?”

“Pfft,”  Eireen covered her mouth in an attempt to suppress her laughter, “Business isn’t Q&A, kiddie.  Whatever, you guys can just call me noona.”

The thug seemed to relax at the fact his insolence didn’t result in another punch to the face, “Okay, I’m-”

“You’re Bastard.  I didn’t like how you looked at me earlier.”

“H-Huh?!”

The mage grinned, “Nice to meet you Bastard,” She pointed to the larger man at the thug’s right, “Bait,”  Her finger traveled to the kid on his left, “And Bandana boy.  Glad you guys decided to be my slaves.”

Both the Wife Bait and the Bandana boy seemed to get the hint, but Bastard’s face only reddened.  “What in the-- are you crazy??”

“I don’t know, am I?”  Eireen replied with a monotonous voice, her cold eyes landing on the thug.  “You’re my property, so I can do whatever I want with you.”  The freezing air surrounding only allowed the man to let out whimpers.  Bandana boy was busy trembling like a leaf and Bait was sweating buckets, but that stopped the moment Eireen regained her usual false smile.  “Alright then boys,”  She held up the paper she’d been scribbling on: a map of the Capital.  There were several illegible notes on it, but the reaper gestured to the area she aggressively circled around.  “You see this place, right?  Whose territory is it?”

Bandana boy spoke up first, “That’s the Mafia’s.  We can’t touch them.”  He shifted uncomfortably,.  “That place is probably under the jurisdiction of Chainsaw.  He’s really strong, but even when compared to the rest of the Mafia’s people it isn’t much--”

“Hold up kiddo,”  Eireen rested her chin in her palm, “I have zero idea what you’re talking about.  Explain better.”

Bandana kid seemed to have more than a few complaints, but he refrained from voicing any of them.  “Crocus is more or less being controlled by two groups: the Mafia and the Conglomerate.  They both have different goals and compete with each other, but… they’re both really nasty.”  From the grave look in his eyes, it seemed like the kid had a few “accidents” with the groups.  “I’d say the Mafia is the oldest organization in the Capital, they’re been running the underground all by themselves for ages.  But recently they’ve lessened the amount of mugging, cheating, and selling they’ve been doing, instead favoring… well, it’s common knowledge by not that they’re mostly focusing on the organ and corpse market recently.”

“Ooh, sounds spooky,”  Eireen said in a voice that suggested otherwise.  “Anyways, what’s with those Conglomerate people then?”

“They’re a bunch of the Mafia’s former members who kinda, erm, went rogue I guess?  They didn’t like how they were making less money from selling gross stuff then they would simple stuff like drugs.  Now they’re directly competing with the Mafia for monopoly over Corcus’s underground.”

“Ah, you sure do know a lot, kid.”  Eireen said while rising from her chair, “Is that all you guys know?”

“Yeah.”  Bandana boy uttered, his associates nodding silently.

“Hmm, okay then.  Whatever, it’s none of my business.  But the name of the guy in charge of that area is Grizzly, right?  Take me to him.

The ever so silent Wife Bait finally chose to break his vigil, “What?!  Taking out Grizzly and occupying space meant for the mafia will 100% lead to their retaliation!”

Eireen only sighed, massaging her temple as if she had a headache.  “I’m not asking for your opinions, kiddies.  You guys can either die now from me or die later from the Mafia.”  Her clod silver gaze traveling across the stricken faces of her slaves, prompting a wry grin from her.  “So, stop your cowering and face your deaths using your own legs and feet, alright?”

word count: 1036
total word count: 3149/2500 [WC Met]
excess word count: 649

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It was a cool, windless night in Crocus.  The clouded moon was high in the sky, not the single tweet of a bird could be heard, it was one ideal for a nice relaxing drink.  However, from the sounds of cackles and breaking glass that could be heard from within, this specific bar wasn’t very good for a “relaxing time”.  Good thing Eireen was there to do business, not play around.  She strode towards the doors with her slaves meekly following behind, the only addition she added to her outfit being a heavy-duty raincoat.  Someone such as her would normally fit in so well in the night scene, too bad that she couldn’t just drop everything and die or something, anything would be better than having to do all this bothersome stuff.

“Eireen, I suggest that you don’t try fighting the guy in there.  I can tell right away there’s too much of a discrepancy in your strength.”  Chance’s voice was bleak, but the silver-haired mage simply grinned.

“Since when did you finish pouting?  Anyways, don’t sweat it.  I don’t plan on dying anytime soon.”

“You better, but more importantly,”  The ethereal cleared his throat, “Why are you bringing those thugs with you?  Aren’t you allergic to weakness?”

As the mage placed her hand on the bar doors, she stole a glance back at her downcast group of kiddies.  “Ah, don’t worry about them.  They’re trying their best to take ahold of their reins is all.  More importantly, I’m going in hot right away, so get ready~”

The immaterial voice scoffed, and if he could cross his arms Eireen was sure he would’ve been crossing them.  “Seriously, I don’t get paid enough to be doing all this stuff for you.”

Eireen’s smile only widened, and as opposed to opening the door like a regular person, she kicked it right off its hinges.  “Hello, fair hooligans,”  She announced as she brazenly walked across the fallen door.  But it wasn’t like the establishment was in a good state in the first place with all the broken cups and raving barbarians.  Actually, it got a lot quieter the moment she stepped in, so you could even say that balances things out.  “My lackeys and I want to have a word with… what’s his name?”  She placed her chin in her hand as she turned around to her three associates.  “It’s Grizzly, right?”

“I-It’s Chainsaw, ma’am.”  Bandana boy replied in a wavering voice.

“Don’t be so formal!  Remember, I’m noona!”  She placed her hands in her pockets, turning back to face the mobsters, “anyways, what are you guys waiting for?  I wanna talk to your boss.  He’s here, right?”

The mobsters muttered amongst themselves, their dark eyes fixated on the one who disrupted their carefree night.  Eventually, one of them stepped forwards, “Hey, you know what you’re doing, right?”  He sauntered towards her, a mocking smile plainly displayed on his visage.  “You’re not from the Conglomerate, right?  Then just go scram and play dolls with your tiny crew, okay?”  The rest of the mobsters began cackling at their representative’s words, directing all sorts of comments Eireen’s way.  What they said didn’t really bother her, but the fact they weren’t taking her seriously did.

The reaper’s grin had already vanished, but it wasn’t yet time for her hands to leave her pockets.  “What if I said I am from the Conglomerate?  It doesn’t matter either way.  I didn’t walk all the way out here to some desolate part of town to speak to an idiot who has his head stuck up his ass.”

The mobster’s complexion immediately reddened, the man moving towards Eireen with his fists bared.  “You little-”

“Hmmm?  Are you guys doing something fun without me?”  A booming voice filled the bar, and not a single mobster dared to make a sound.  A towering figure emerged from behind the crowd, and all the men immediately moved to make way for the lumbering giant.  The very air seemed to freeze as he closed the distance between himself and Eireen, the mobster she’d offended moving to quickly reassemble into the crowd.  “Who are you supposed to be?”  He muttered, breath stinking of alcohol as he dug a finger into his ear.

“Well, it doesn’t matter who I am, but you’re Chainsaw, right?”  Eireen gave him a professional smile as she looked up at his disinterested expression.  “I’m here to have a small chat with you about your territory, okay?”

“Hahh?  You come in here and disrupt my men’s leisure hours for that?”  His gaze traveled to the hooligans standing behind the woman.  “You’ve got some balls.  Too bad.  I can’t let people get away with throwing their weight around when I’m around, so,”  Eireen could tell her slaves had been scared stiff from his wild bloodlust.  After all, it was an aura far more oppressing than anything she’d used against them.  “You guys can pay for that door with your life, right?”  The air between the two was tense, onlookers slowly shuffling away from the pair.  Then, it commenced.

Both she and the giant moved at the same time, Eireen leaping into the air as he reached out to grab hold of her throat.  The mage’s hands remained in her pockets as she dealt a roundhouse kick directly to the man’s neck.  However, before gravity could do its work, Eireen found a thick hand wrapped around her ankle.  Instantly, the mage executed evasive maneuvers, reducing her body to ash and quickly darting backward to escape the hold.

“Oh?  You had something like that?”  The giant muttered lethargically, cracking his neck as he watched Eireen’s body reform.  By now, his mobsters had already retreated as far as possible from their leader, remaining silent throughout the exchange.  And Eireen could tell that was probably for the best when a wide smile emerged on Chainsaw’s face.

“Hey, you guys-”  The reaper turned to face her slaves, but any trace of them was long gone.  “Wow, those guys sure are quick to move.”  She huffed before facing the towering mobster.

“That’s what you get for enlisting the help of criminals.”

“Hey, I’m a criminal too.  I was going to tell them to get a head start running away anyways.”

previous job's excess: 649
word count: 1040
total word count: 1689

“You probably already knew, but Chainsaw isn’t my real name.”  The giant tore off his shirt as if it were paper, his muscles bulging violently.  “I got it because all the guys I fought ended up looking so mangled it was like someone mutilated them.”  Magic permeated the air as the man’s eyes danced with a crazed light, “So let’s see how long you can entertain me for!”

The giant lunged forwards, Eireen’s eyes narrowing as she cast a spell of her own.  In an instant, a sheathed katana found its way to her hand, the reaper using it to guard against the mobster’s punch.  Sparks flew through the air as the silver-haired mage gritted her teeth, barely managing to hold her ground against the heavy blow.  But suddenly, a blunt pain smacked her right in her side, launching her straight through the bar’s wall.

Eireen rolled across the pavement, sprawled across the street.   “What kind of hit was that?  I couldn’t even see a thing.”  She muttered, testing her limbs to see if anything was broken.  Thankfully, thanks to a well-timed shield on Chance’s part, she managed to come out with only bruises.

“He kicked you.”  The ethereal presence replied plainly as Eireen shifted her body off its back, wiping away the blood on her lips.

“Oh, that’s all?  Just a normal hit?  That’s nice.”  Her vision was slightly blurred as she stumbled onto her feet, but it was good enough to spot the dark silhouette of Chainsaw emerging from the hole he had made.  “How monstrous, do I really need to fight this guy?”

“It’s already too late for regretting stuff, just make sure not to die.”

“Yeah, ‘kay, thanks.”

Eireen barely had time to recover from the kick before Chainsaw rushed towards her, his speed quite ridiculous despite his immense size.  The reaper hastily threw herself out of the way, letting the hulking mass of muscle crash right through yet another building.  Dust filled the air as the silver-haired mage once again stumbled to her feet, sword still sheathed.  She couldn’t help but wince from the sheer volume of the newly demolished rubble.  If she’d tried to block that her arms would definitely be broken.  Still, hopefully, the locals took that as a queue to stay inside.  Eireen didn’t have time to deal with witnesses at the moment.

“Is this it?  Are you just going to run away?”  A towering shadow appeared through the debris, easily pushing away rocks as if he were getting rid of toys.  His frenzied smile had once again returned to her droll expression, eyes dull with boredom.  However, Eireen didn’t reply, mostly because she’d probably end up vomiting blood if she tried speaking.  Instead, she simply assumed a solid stance and readied her katana, eyes glued to the mobster.  “Well, whatever.”  The huge man sighed, each step seeming to quake the earth.  “At least unsheathe the damn sword, won’t ya?  It’s never fun to kill someone without seeing all their cards.”

He once again charged at Eireen, but when she stepped out of the way he threw her a turning kick.  The reaper held her sword up to block, a disgusting crack resounding through the dark streets.  Despite the fact her blade had taken the brunt force of the blow, her left arm was now bent horribly in the wrong direction.  But she couldn’t take a break to recover from the searing pain, Chainsaw was already throwing out yet another bone-crushing punch.  Eireen’s eyes narrowed as she stepped back, narrowly dodging a blow, only to do the same for the next.  Each blow was dodged by a hears length, and the reaper couldn’t help but wonder how long she could keep up for with that dull pain in her left arm.  Still, all she could do was hold her sword, keep her stance steady, and keep avoiding attacks.

That is until she felt a brick wall at her back.  Turns out running isn’t infinite when your fighting in a city and alleyways don’t continue forever.  The mobster’s smile twisted grotesquely as he cracked his knuckles, pulling back his gigantic fist to crack Eireen’s skull wide open.  But it was then that the sound of detonating gunpowder filled the alleyway.  Chainsaw stumbled forwards as if pushed from behind, whipping around only for the sound of another crack echoing through the street, eliciting a similar reaction from the mobster as before.  The silver-haired mage slicked back her disorderly hair, grinning as she spotted what exactly were the sources of the deafening sounds.

“It’s the rats who ran away earlier?”  The man muttered, his eyes lightening a bit at the sight of two-thirds of Eireen’s Super Slave Squad.  And lo and behold, in a segment of the alley illuminated by moonlight, stood Bastard and Wife Bait each holding a black handgun.  More specifically, it was Eireen’s black handguns that she’d lent to them before entering the bar.  The weapons had left little more than black marks on the skin of the monster, but that wasn’t why she’d bothered sing them in the first place.  The effects were already on display: the mobster’s delayed reaction time, the strained way his muscles convulsed, it was perfect.  But now that they’d given her the opening she’d planned for, it was time to make her signature comeback.

Her blade flew out of its sheath, Eireen transferring just enough of her body into ash to move as fast as possible while still holding onto the katana.  Then, with a lightning-fast slash, the pale white blade was dripping with blood.  The hunk of muscle stood upright for a few moments after the head connected with the concrete floor.  Finally, it slumped over, collapsing in a pool of blood with a loud thump.  It was a dark, murky color, and the scent of iron had already invaded her nostrils.

“Chance… don’t you think this sword is way too gimmicky?  Don’t take it out of its sheath until it’s time for the final strike… yeah right.”

word count: 1004
total word count: 2693 [WC Met]
excess word count: 193

b -> a exam

“Hey now, don’t complain when you barely even bother collecting your own wandering shadows.  And it isn’t like you can’t fight with a sheathed weapon anyways.  Or you could try using it like all other swords, making the blade slowly deteriorate over time…”

“Fine, whatever.”  The silver-haired mage glanced at the pale blade, but it was already showing signs of turning gray.  Did contact with blood decrease the time for using it even more?  It did have oxygen in it-- what a pain.  Sighing, the reaper let it and her discarded sheathe dissipate back into smoke.

“Don’t be bratty, that attack was well over your usual range of damage.  The only reason you got so beat up was because of the difference in numbers between you and your opponent.  Just don’t pick such ridiculous fights and you’ll have no reason to complain.”

Something about Chance’s nagging irritated Eireen, so she just chose to not reply.  Instead, she stood up as straight as possible, reassuming her confident jaunt.  To complete her unfazed look, she adopted a sly smirk as she approached her two shocked slaves.  “Good job, Bastard, Bait.”  She uttered, reducing the handguns they held to ash as she spoke.  “Where’s the kid?”

“I-In the bar where you told him to be…”  Bastard murmured, attempting and failing to refrain from staring at Eireen’s injuries and the monstrous corpse of Chainsaw.  “Um, erm,”  And he was being very obvious about wanting to point it out too despite the fact all parties had already noticed.

“Hey, you're worried about my injuries?  Don’t worry, I can still beat you black and blue in this state.”  Eireen droned plainly, “Try being more like Wife Bait over here: all stoic and quiet.”  She patted the shoulder of the hunky man, prompting a slight flinch from him.  However, the silver-haired woman paid no heed to his extreme discomfort, simply strutting out of the alleyway and back towards the bar.

However, it seemed like Bastard still didn’t get the memo.  “Wait, wasn’t it just Bait before?  Where did the ‘Wife’ part come in?”

Eireen shrugged, not bothering to turn around as she addressed her subordinate.  “Bait is the nickname, Wife Bait is the full name.  Did I not mention that before?  After all, Tard is the nickname for Bastard.”

“Wait… seriously??”

“Yeah, in fact, Bastard is just the last half.  The first part is ‘Stupid’, so the full name is Stupid Basta-”

“Noona, you’re back?!”  The Bandana Boy exclaimed, breathlessly bursting out of the bar.  His brown hair was disheveled, and his bandana had been lowered to allow Eireen to get a good look at his face for the first time.  And… well…

“Hey Chance, it’s a pretty good looking kid, right?  Give it a few more years of fermentation, and that milkshake will bring all the girls to the yard.  Actually, no, he’s pretty adorable as he is…”  The reaper muttered internally, much to the exasperation of her partner.  However, the ghostly presence remained silent, most likely too busy with repairing Eireen’s physical condition to rebuke her.  But to be fair, Bandana boy’s curly locks, wide eyes, and squeezable cheeks gave him a very puppy-like impression.  Now she had to revise her rankings for the Super Slave Squad’s appearance.  Sure, man-meat was nice eye candy in the right situations, but snuggly boy was just too pet-able to lose.  Oh, whoops, she almost forgot she was supposed to be talking to Bandana Boy at the moment.  “Oh, yeah.  Have things been cleared out in here?”  She said lightly, striding into the bar without waiting for an answer.

“Um, yeah.  I have them a distraction, just like you asked!”  As he had said, the previously packed establishment was completely devoid of people, including the bartender.  The only remnant of the mafia’s presence was all the broken pieces of property.  But wow, his anxiety-filled eyes were really distracting.  Eireen was being filled with the desire to treat the kid to ice cream or something.

“Hey, why were you even robbing people in the first place?”  Whoops, it seemed like Eireen’s inner thoughts just slipped out!  But she might as well make her unintentional query seem natural, so she leisurely sat on a circular bar table.

Bandana boy’s gaze wavered, sliding from Eireen to the ground.  “W-Well, it was a bet from school… I only needed to steal one person’s ID, but then… y’know...”

Eireen frowned, her narrowed silver eyes bearing into the kid.  “Why the hell would you do something stupid like that?  I mean, look at these fools.”  She cooly pointed to the two “adults” standing behind him.  “Wife Bait can’t even defend himself from a delicate maiden such as myself.  Meanwhile, Stupid Bastard is a stupid bastard.”

Bastard seemed to have something to say, but Bait hastily nudged him into silence.  Instead, it was Bandana who spoke next, “N-No… they wanted to help the orphanage out is all.”

“What the- orphanage?  What do social institutions have to do with mugging people?”

“Well, um, no, but-”

“A kid at school has connections to the Conglomerate.”  Wife Bait interjected, his voice stoic and expression cold.  “And a certain business venture has something to do with… downgrading that place.”

Eireen nodded lethargically, crossing her arms.  “So is it something that’s already decided, or…?”

“No way in hell is something like that happening!”  The Stupid Bastard growled, his fists clenched.  From the sound of his angry outburst, it seemed as if he’d forgotten EIreen was one-hundred percent able to kill him at any moment.  “Fuck, if I have the chance I’m gonna rip that insane bitch’s throat out!  Sure, I’ve been doing stuff on the side, but these two are clean, y’know?”

“Yes yes, indeed.”

“The kid’s already been through enough trouble in his life!  For fucks sake, there's a reason why he has a relationship with all those orphans in the first place!  And even without some big ass criminal group sticking their nose in his business, he still ended up getting to know a washed-out guy like me!  I call it a crew, but it was just… nothing!  The big guy doesn’t even have a good enough reason to be here.”

“That’s not true.” Wife Bait interjected, his expression stiff, “I came to help you.”

“Yeah?  Look where it got us!  Stuck in this broken-down bar with this cra--”

“Hey, I’m not going to sit around and be called a crazy bitch for the second time today.”  The reaper sighed, shaking her head in disapproval.  Of course, the words had poured cold water on the heated atmosphere, rendering all of her slaves silent.  The woman allowed her cold silver gaze to travel across the group, taking note of the way their fists trampled in anger and resentment buried in their gazes.  It didn’t seem like they were lying either, could it be that this group has the worst luck possible?  “Okay, so you guys wanted to prevent an orphanage from being involved in something shady?”  The Bandana boy nodded weakly.  “And you really care about that place right?”  Yet another nod.  “Seriously… I didn’t think guys like you really existed.  Well, I guess I have plenty of free time before actually getting down to business.”  The silver-haired woman slid off the bar table, shifting her hair out of her face.  “Follow me then, we're going back to base.”

“So you’re not planning on letting us just walk away now?”  Wife Bait said, his voice icy.

Eireen didn’t reply right away, instead simply walking past Bait and towards the bar’s exit.  “Of course not, I’m still the big sis, right?”  She pushed the door open, turning around to grin at the trio as moonlight filtered into the moodily lit room.  “A slave is supposed to serve the master, but I’ll make an exception this time since I’m bored.”

Within her mind, Chance let out a strained sigh, “Yet another detour?”

Eireen’s grin widened.  “Yep, the assassination site’s already secured.  Might as well do something useful in the meantime.”


“So the Grizzly Chainsaw was taken out?”  A raspy voice resounded through the room, the voice’s owner-- an elderly yet well-dressed man-- gently swirling a glass of deep red wine.  The only light source was that of the window right before his eyes, the light of the night sky casting long shadows within the abode.  And he sat upon a lush red armchair, facing said opening to the outside world with a half-smile, half-grimace.  “That’s really a shame.  I was about to give him an offer as well, some of the lords really appreciate his type.”

“Yes.  It’s truly a shame.”  The only other person in the room replied-- a young maid wearing a frilly black and white uniform.  Her features were rather appealing but her lifeless black eyes made her appear more doll-like than human.

However, the maid’s master seemed unfazed by the dispassionate expression, simply sighing before handing his glass to his servant.  “That man was truly a handful, I half expected he’d leave once the Conglomerate popped up.  But apparently, he’d already learned to value killing more than the money he made doing it, how savage.”  The old man gestured to his maid, the young woman soon placing a cigar in his open palm.  “He never even questioned what we needed so many corpses for, correct?  Really, it's a pity.  He was reaching his expiration date soon, but we could’ve handed him over to the lords.  What a pity…”

“Yes.  It’s truly a pity.”  The emotionless maid replied flaccidly before lighting the elder’s roll of tobacco.

“Is that all you know how to say?  It’s good that you listen to orders well, but there’s really no variation with your kind.”  The old man took a puff of his cigar as he cast his dark gaze at the maid.  “I suppose that you are only built to serve and observe, so there’d be no point in adding in conversational abilities.”

“Yes.  I am equipped with medium-grade magical abilities, the ability to listen and abide orders from registered individuals, and report back to lords at a moment’s notice.”

“Oh, and you’re able to list out all your functions as well.  Quite nifty for a toy.”  The old man uttered before turning his eyes back to the outside world.  “Oh well, this entire mess is worth it if the lords can provide me with what I wish.”  He looked down at his wrinkled hand, anticipation sparkling in his otherwise dull eyes.  “Eternal youth really is appealing… my predecessors had the right idea discarding their pride for such a prize.”

“Yes.  You will be rewarded accordingly.”  The maid’s robotic voice wiped away any semblance of a smile from the old man's face, leaving only a tired expression.

“Oh well, it was the work of the Conglomerate, correct?  We will strike back accordingly, but in a meantime let’s get a replacement for Chainsaw.”  He let out a sigh, “Truly, a group of savages who don’t even understand what they’re truly dealing with.  If they knew what kind of monsters lurked in the depths of the Mafia…”  It sent a shiver down his spine just by thinking of it.  The old man had been involved in all sorts of deleterious and inhumane acts during his career, but the lords he served were in a completely different class compared to his measly grasp on Crocus.  Everything was in their hands.  Only the upper echelon of the Mafia was even aware of their existence, yet their influence was immeasurable.  The fact such a group could remain almost unknown despite their power and apparent age was terrifying.  Even the small fries knew of the Mafia and the Conglomerate, but there was a power even greater than them lurking in the shadows?  That was truly odious.

“Indeterminate.  Evidence points to a third party.”

The old man set down his cigar, his frown accentuating deep fissures in his face from repeatedly making that same displeased expression over the years.  “A third party you say?  But who in their right minds would dare mess with the masters of this city’s underworld?”  He muttered, snubbing out his cigar with the arm of his chair.

“Indeterminate.  We are currently looking through all notable gangs.”

The old man once again let out a sigh, reclining back into his plush chair.  “Another group of savages trying to impede my way… well, it doesn’t matter either way.”  His cold eyes looked over the dark shadows of Crocus, “Whoever they are, they’ll end the same as the others.”

previous part's excess: 193
word count: 2092
total word count: 2285/2000 [WC Met]
word count excess: 285