RWBY:Rascal

If, walking down a dark, dark street, you meet a small, lonely and defenseless-looking girl, run! For the life of you, run!

From the precepts of an experienced scoundrel.

The morning paints with a gentle light... somewhere and to someone. And the ear of the criminal element, which I am now honored to be, somehow does not possess such a thing as windows, alas. Nevertheless, other folk wisdom worked. The morning was wiser than the evening, but I thought better with a fresh head. I was a little saddened by the fact that tonight I had to go with a crowd of "bulls" to the case, from which I wanted to stay as far away as possible, but I could not do anything about it. But with a roulade-making stomach, in which only a couple of spoonfuls of ice cream and cigarette smoke had been yesterday, I could. Plus... my nose picked up the aromas of coffee. Coffee can't make itself. So someone made it! A deduction worthy of Holmes, n'est-ce pas. Nevertheless, the aromas in the air made me finally open my eyes and go to wash my face, and after all the necessary procedures - to walk to the kitchen. Where I fell into a stupor from the opened picture.

Neo. Neo in an apron. Neo in an apron frying bacon. And on the table there are already cups of black coffee for Roman and... of course, coffee and ice cream for the girl. I was stumped by several things at once. First of all, I couldn't combine in my head the images of a "silent killer" and this cute creature in an apron. Secondly, Roman was having a hard time with it, too. No, Neopolitan still brewed coffee, but cooking, even something simple... every time she looked at Torchwick in confusion and helplessness, he only sighed, put aside his cane and stood behind the stove. Or they'd go to the café.

"So you can cook after all, you lazy little sly little thing? And yes, good morning."

"(>‸>)..." - "I'm doing my best for him, and he has the nerve to tell me what's wrong!"

"What do I have against it? But now you will not be able to make a helpless look and waving your hands, which means that the list of household chores can be revised ... By the way, what's the occasion of the holiday?"

"(-_-)," "then do good to people after that." - "(X_x), (>_<), (^_^)!"

" Ah, so we're celebrating my Manifestation? Alright then... Although the question of the list of household chores still remains open!""

" (g_g;)..." - The girl rolled her eyes, but filled the plates and even handed me my portion.

" Thank you Neo, you're a miracle!"

" (<_<")'..." - now she was a little embarrassed and even turned pink. Man, Roman is an asshole. What level of disdain does a person have to have for the simplest compliment to elicit such a reaction? And how Neo didn't leave him...I don't get it. Or is this a case of love is evil and you'll love the goa of... ahem, Torchwick?

"Yum," I tasted the bacon and eggs he'd given me under a suspicious look. It's not bad, not bad at all. - "How did the negotiations with Junior go? Was he impressed with your eloquence?"

" (-_-)..." - Yeah yeah yeah, that joke is as old as the world, but it would be weird if I didn't say something like that. However, aside from the defiantly pouting face, the girl showed a spread palm.

"Five thugs? Not bad," I'll have someone to put between me and Red Riding Hood, pardon me, Red Hood. - "And how was your walk, was it okay?"

" (g_g)..." - another eye roll.

" Yeah, I'm worried. It's not every day we get involved in such a bad smelling endeavor, you know."

" (^_^)."

At this point our extremely informative conversation came to an end, and we got down to eating, and a little later and it was just me alone doing the dishes. The law that if one cooked, the other washed the dishes was enforced by the iron hand of Torchwick himself (though it looked like "I cooked, you wash, or else no ice cream!"), and it would have been uneducational to abolish it. I also needed something to keep my hands busy. Except I didn't have enough dishes to keep me busy for long.

The time dragged outrageously slowly and sadly. Neo didn't show any concern and just climbed on the couch with a book, but I felt as if I had to go on my first date, an exam, a job interview, and a brain tumor surgery all at the same time. All at the same time. Anyway, in order not to start running on the ceiling, I had to do something right away. And that's when I saw this cane-cannon rifle. And I thought it would be a good idea to take care of the weapon and make sure all the mechanisms were in good condition. Gods, Demons, Dragons and the Holy Macaroni Monster, how wrong I was!

No, at first everything was very good, I fixed the weapon on the workbench, my hands started to do all the necessary procedures - unload there, unscrew here, disassemble and clean here, lubricate here... and then I started to "actively use my brain", let's say. And the first thing that happened was that my knowledge of physics and copromat began to cover the whole construction with a seven-storied mat. The instinct of self-preservation agreed. What made me so "delighted" in the design? Well, let's start with the materials. The thin-walled polymer tube with a plug at the bottom was: a - light, b - flexible. I could easily bend it with a deviation of thirty degrees at each end, i.e. almost bend it into an arc. Without much strain and effort. But that's okay, the baton doesn't have to be a rebar, so why shouldn't it bend a little? And the strength of an Aura user is more than a normal person can give off. The lightness isn't much of an inconvenience either, though light crushing weapons do make your brain scratch something like that, but the user's increased strength makes up for the inconvenience. The problem was that this "tube" was the barrel of a MINI-GRANATOMET!!!! Which bent. But that's not what terrified me. It was the whole shooting thing.

Let's leave the uncomfortable grip or lack of a normal sight (bendable sight-plug with "cross" - it's a mockery, not a sight) - these are all trifles, but the way this "miracle" was loaded was just hilarious: reloading had to be done in "factory conditions" with disassembly of half of the case, in extreme case, according to the principle of muzzle-loading musket. Although I was ready to put up with it, and now let's move on to the "horror". "The cane's shell. All the ammunition was housed in the barrel tube itself. It's like a Chinese firecracker. That's it. Curtain.

Okay, let's say that the release is controlled by "pushing" aura, but ... Cthulhu Almighty, here all the ammunition - ashes, even in the shell! The same Dust that's not much more stable than nitroglycerin without a thickener. And he hits people on the head with this "tube", filled to the very neck with this substance! My God, how has it not exploded in his hands?! Could Aura be able to strengthen and make such a technoherence work? It would appear so. Moreover, the locals didn't see anything strange about it at all. Sophisticated and combined weapons with the most complex mechanics, which under combat loadings should wedge only in the way, works better than a Swiss watch. All right. (chuckles) All right. (chuckles) Let's just stay out of the cloister. It worked before, didn't it? So it should continue to work... at the very least, Aura can protect me even if this thing breaks in my hands. But I swear, the first chance I get, I'll get rid of this creep! And anyway, I have a Manifestation now that will allow me to carry a small arsenal with me! And I need to think about how to get rid of ashes ammunition altogether! It's clear that I won't make a Kalashnikov assault rifle and the notorious intermediate cartridge here. If only for the simple reason that I have no idea how the said machine gun is built and what kind of magic is in this intermediate cartridge, that it is invented by every trapped person almost obligatory. Gods, I don't even know the composition of gunpowder! Well sulfur, well saltpeter, well coal. What kind of saltpeter? What coal? In what proportions? How to make it? And that's not to mention that this recipe is for primitive smoky powder, which is not much use, and modern one for the same intermediate cartridge is made of cellulose and with the help of some acid... I think. And that's all I know about modern firearms.

"Fuck it," I put my 'wunderwaffle' back together with the rest of my stamina, 'just fuck it,' I spent the rest of the time before the operation started, mindlessly poking at the Scroll - the local analog of a smartphone, only it works on some shamanic principle unrelated to radio communication, though there are repeater towers in the world. There are four of them - one per continent.

In the evening, after saying goodbye to Neo, who had gone on the case, I went to the designated meeting place. 

"Gentlemen," I lifted my fedora in greeting, and Torchwick's hats are really nice, 'I guess it's time for our little promenade,' Junior's bulls nodded respectfully, trying to show their cool and professionalism, because they were hired by Roman fucking Torchwick. Gotta keep up the brand. But I'm looking at these "geniuses" who came in club jackets and sunglasses on their faces... in the fading twilight, uh-huh... well, I'm looking at them, and for some reason I want to laugh hysterically or cry hysterically. Okay, it's not going to draw attention to itself. Cane in my hand (don't think about the fact that it is full of unstable explosives!), the expression "you - shit, I - D'Artagnan" on my face, well... let's go!

And so, surrounded by these... just these, I waltz off in the direction of a small store with Ashes, located in relative proximity to Beacon. Casual passersby fearfully huddle against the walls, surely someone has already dialed up the cops. Eh... let's go in. I bet the owner's already pushed the panic button. I stood in front of him with a sad look and started to declare that "everybody stand still, it's a robbery! But no, we won't take the money, but we'll take all the Ashes." Why was I looking sad? Well, it was sad for me to pretend to be a "spherical villain in a vacuum", besides, in the far corner I had already noticed a stunted figure in a scarlet hood, to which one of the muzzies was approaching. The inner voice was counting down: five, four, three to go... Here the baboon sharply turns around an innocent girl wearing headphones and studying gun magazines... two... Here she takes off her headphones and learns about the robbery... one... Here he reaches for her, and....

"Here we go," I thought, as I followed the body flying across the sales floor with a glance. The body of a baboon, of course.

" Uh huh..." - I knew it was coming, but it still felt sad.

I pressed my "panic button" - as already mentioned, the original plan was to divert attention from the Ashes transshipment warehouse of the Beacon Academy, as a result of which I had to make noise from the "opposite" side of the action, risking to run into a lot of angry Aura users headed by the mentors of this educational institution. And since the case was important, symbolic, the case was the natural beginning of a much more global operation and, as I suspected, was to show someone (White Fang, most likely) the luck of the new partner and his ability to select personnel, Cinder volunteered to cover for me. I hope it's going to be "canonical" now, too, or I'll have to expose my Manifestation, which I'd really like to avoid.

While I was in my gloomy thoughts, the actors moved to the street, where a cute little girl began to beautifully scatter the muzzies with the help of... (Yes, oh my eyes! Reality was not merciful to you, and the cartoon canon was repeated exactly and exactly) a big folding scythe-rifle-carabiner. And she did it surprisingly skillfully. And the fact that the weapon was twice as big as she was did not embarrass her. She was really cute, with a slim figure and silver eyes, and about the same size as Neo, but she was only fifteen, but that would pass quickly... What am I thinking?! She's turning in my direction now, and she's giving me the wrong look. And the scythe blade stuck in the asphalt, which went about fifty centimeters into the ground, and this pose does not bode well. Where's Cinder and her bird? I'm almost glad to see her. All right, we gotta stall! Oh! I got it!

" Hey, hey, you could have just said you've already stocked the store, why get all nervous? We of the Dark Side should stick together and respect each other!"

"Uh?" - I'd call her adorable if it weren't for the threat of my neck getting too close to her farm implement. - "I'm not the villain! You're the villain!"

"Mm-hmm, the intimidating scarlet hood, the black tones in your clothes, the graveyard theme with the crosses," I poked my finger impolitely in the direction of the pair of silver crosses that held up the girl's cape, "the big and creepy braid, like you're Death himself... I bet you're on Cookie's side!"

"Uh?" - she blinked again. - "Well, yes, I like cookies, but what does that have to do with it?"

"See! Cookies are a Dark Side thing. Light only has an unlimited supply of coffee and an unhealthy desire to involve teenagers in adult squabbles. Hmmm... maybe also a love of innocent Virgins, hehe. Ozpin will confirm," - well, yeah, I got carried away, and what yesterday's civilian wouldn't be carried away in this situation?

"W-what?" - I think I got her a little loaded.

"Never mind, let's just pretend we didn't see each other and go about our business?" - Cinder, where the hell have you been?!

" Ahhhhhh... Don't talk my ear off! I won't let you go!" - the girl grabbed her weapon, and--

" Ha!" - I fired about half a gun at the little brat. Yeah, yeah, with a Battle Cry, who said anything about hysterical screaming?

I didn't think it would hurt Ms. Rose in the slightest, but the subtle squeak that came from my Scroll told me that Cinder had deigned to lift her fine ass and come to pull mine out. So the purpose of the "artillery bombardment" in the first place was to create enough dust for the girl to lose sight of me. So, having rudely left the lady, I began to urgently reel in my fishing rods and rushed to the fire escape on the nearest building - Fall was to arrive on a bullhead, and it would be much easier for her to pick me up from the roof than from the ground. Hopefully Glinda wouldn't be too bad, or I'd have to explain to the evil bitch why the hell I'd run away from a fifteen-year-old brat and called her for an evacuation.

*A heavy bullet, which hit a piece of plaster too close to my head, cleared my head, and gave my legs and arms a boost - I literally flew up the stairs. It was a good thing Ruby wasn't much of a marksman... or maybe I was just lucky, and she hadn't coughed up any dust yet/shot off the scope/get up wrong, emphasis mine. I'd forgotten that the girl had a Manifestation, and as soon as I reached the roof, a familiar figure in a familiar robe emerged from the flow of rose petals behind me.

"You're not getting away that easily!"

"Sorry, little girl, I really liked you too, but you need to grow up some more! Just be patient for a couple years!" - Gods, what the hell am I talking about?! What the hell am I talking about?

" Argh!"-a soft thump between my shoulder blades made it clear that the girl was upset by my words and decided to convey that upset to me with her large-caliber argument. Anyway, my Aura was enough to absorb the blow, and the sudden acceleration allowed me to get into the belly of the ship even faster.

"Get out of here!" - I shouted, flying into the cockpit. 

"Where's the problem! " a stunning beauty in a scarlet, gold-embroidered dress asked back. 

*The ship shuddered and the windshield shattered with icy shrapnel as Glinda reached the scene and greeted us warmly. 

"Take the wheel," the lady jumped out of the pilot's chair, and I barely had time to grab the lever, only remembering that I didn't know how to fly this thing when the ship started to taxi away from the building, but... I froze in an invisible grip.

*Bang! Bang! Ruby continued to inflict good and justice.

"Damn it, Hood! You scratched my paint!" - I yelled back, frantically jerking the steering wheel and toggling some other levers and buttons. Something about thrust and power control popped into my head, but only in passing; I was more concerned with the fact that the Good Witch's telekinesis was slowly but steadily pushing us to the ground, even though the engines were running at full power.

Cinder came into play, not bothering with it, and simply used a barrage of fire to burn up all the projectiles Ruby had sent at us, and then directed it at our pursuers. Glinda had to switch her attention to fire defense and we got away safely. I'll admit, I had a fleeting thought of trying to throw Fall out of the transporter, but as quickly as it came, it was gone. I wasn't sure if I could do it at all, and I wasn't sure if Glinda alone would be enough for this half-Deva. Should the beautiful brunette survive, one redheaded smartass would be completely and utterly screwed. Alas, I had never been a hero, so I cowardly decided not to risk my own skin, however low it might sound. My reflections were interrupted by the appearance of the "considered" beauty, who plumped on the neighboring seat.

"It seems the distraction was... too effective. Don't you think?"

" Roman," she covered her eyes irritably, "just drive this bullheaded thing back to base. Silently."

" Okay, you're the boss," I shrugged. 

"Exactly. And I don't intend to jeopardize the whole plan by saving your skin anymore," the girl's irritation was growing, and I should have shut up and kept my mouth shut, but it was like I was possessed by a demon. Or maybe I'd had a withdrawal...

"Well, excuse me, Your Excellency, you ordered me to steal almost all the Ashes in this wonderful city, and though I'm a master of my craft, it's a bit problematic to do it together. The local idiots aren't much use, you know," he replied venomously. 

"Oh, so all that separates you from success is a lack of extra hands?" - The witch smiled deceptively softly. - "Well, I think I can help you in that matter... and introduce you to someone."

" And why do I get the feeling that this 'someone' I'm going to dislike terribly?" - The question was rhetorical, and therefore unanswerable. Not Cinder's meaningful smile, though, was it?

Half an hour later, landing in an unremarkable warehouse (thanks to the shitty air defense for our unpunished childhood), we had the honor of seeing a happy Neo eating ice cream... with her back against a nice truck with an even nicer trailer. I bet it's full of the stuff we need.

"How'd it go?"

"(^__^)!"

"That's great," I open the back of the trailer and admire the smooth rows of boxes with the familiar snowflake print. - "Yeah, that's pretty good!"

Our esteemed "employer" also showed curiosity.

"Well, it looks like you really are useful," Cinder nodded to her thoughts. - "Move the shipment to one of the warehouses in the city. You'll be contacted in three days by my... person to help with manpower."

With that, the ladylike lady left our company, not bothering to say goodbye.

"What a..." - I wanted to just spit, or better yet, grab Neo and get the hell out of here, maybe with a few lines to Ozpin. If that was really the way out... eh. 

"(O_o)?" - I got a tug on my sleeve and a worried look in my eyes.

" I'm fine, Neo," I sigh, "just tired. And the promise of 'manpower' from our employer isn't exactly going to do any good. Hmm..." - I looked around the truck. Actually, I had a couple of thoughts, but they were very vague. - "Do you think that if a couple of crates of this splendor were to get lost completely by accident somewhere, no one would be upset, right?"

"(^______^)," they nodded furiously. Yes, the principle of "other people's stuff, freebies, take-it-or-leave-it" this cutie understood perfectly well. 

"That's what I think," I was able to remove a box of each kind of Ashes with the help of Manifestation very easily, and judging by the feeling of 'fullness' that came with it, I could have put the whole truck away that way, although I would have had to do a lot of work.

"(O_o)?????"

" Hmm? Didn't I say that? Teleportation isn't the main property of my Manifestation, hehe.""

" (O_o)..." - Half a minute of thought, but here her gaze fills with Understanding and... Greed. - "(*_*)!"

"No, Neo, I won't be your personal mobile ice cream warehouse!"

"(T‸T)..." - Damn, how does she know about that "cat's eyes from Shrek" trick? It's not like there was such a cartoon! 

"N-no..."

" (Q_Q)?..."

"Neo, stop it!"

" (Q‸Q)''..."

" L-okay," I covered my eyes, "but only within reason!"

"=(^__^)=! " - and hung onto me, happily dangling my legs in the air. My hands somehow by themselves, in addition to my will, picked the girl up under her waist. One arm, to be exact. The other one went a little lower, where the waist is called something else. And squeezed a little. - "(O_O)..."

"Fuck it!" - I was almost hacked to death today, almost thrown off a roof, shot (albeit uninjured, thanks to Aura), almost shredded with ice arrows, and smashed on the roof while piloting a local fighter helicopter. The fact that I managed to get that shit to the base is a separate point. Anyway, it was all a bit too much! Stress demanded a way out, and the damn beautiful girl hanging on me was the last straw. The kiss turned out to be harsh, rough. Neo, who was in culture shock, opened her mouth in surprise... which I took advantage of. Her surprise didn't last long, though. A dozen seconds, and I began to respond. Ineptly, but with great enthusiasm, and the legs hanging in the air are already crossed behind my back, pressing the girl even tighter.

But the lack of experience still affected - the beauty with multicolored eyes soon ran out of air, and we had to interrupt for technical reasons. Besides, even though it was extremely pleasant, and my body would have liked to continue and deepen it, and Neo was clearly in favor of it, but... first of all, the truck had to be driven away, and secondly, sad as it was, these feelings were directed at the old Roman, not at me, and it would be wrong to take advantage of them. I'm not as bad as Torchwick 1.0.

" Perhaps... we should move the car away..."

" (">_>)..." - The pink-haired girl looked away, not in a hurry to unclench her legs or arms, though.

"And in general, I'm a misanthrope, a racist and a womanizer, unworthy of a beautiful girl like you..." - somehow very unconvincingly whispered my body, urged by the remnants of conscience.

"(-_-)*," I rolled my eyes. - "(^_^)," and reached for the next kiss.

"That's... not fair," - the next five minutes passed very pleasantly, even if it didn't get any further than kissing, but still. My conscience was gnawing, but it was getting weaker and weaker with each passing moment that I had the pleasure of seeing a happy Neo. But then the ice cream started to melt, and I was treacherously abandoned. Hmm... disappointment and relief at the same time is a very, very strange mixture of feelings.

Then it just sort of went on and on - chase it away, hide it, make sure no one was tailing me, and so on, and so on, and we got home after the awkward scene was over... That's how it seemed to me, until Neo started looking at me strangely and frowning in uncertainty. Normally, if Roman's memory was to be believed, she'd be in the shower within a minute of coming home after a case, or in the shower, or buried in a Scroll, playing a fighting game, or at least watching TV, looking for news about a case she'd just done. Now... there was no suggestion of that, but there were stares and uncertainty.....

"Why don't we go see Junior?" - I was feeling a little awkward, too. - "I need a drink." - I said more positively, trying to imitate Roman's egotistical manner.

"(-_-)..."-the sentence was clearly not the one she was expecting, but... - "(^_^)!" - Moving a little forward, Neo kissed me gently and smiled softly.

"Are you insinuating my teenage indecision right now?"

" (>‸>)..." - Her demonstratively pouting face raised the mood a little more.

"I'm sorry! You can't just become sensitive and wonderful when you've been an asshole all your life! In my defense, I'll buy you ice cream on the way, okay?"

"(=^__^=)!"

"Just don't get fanatical! We're not stealing any six-ton freezers!"

" (>_>)... (*_*)!"

" What do you mean you'll settle for just a three-ton one? I'm not bargaining! At most..."

" (Q‸Q)'..."

"... one ton," my tongue said before I realized 'what'. - "Neo! What was that just now!"

" (^_____^)!"

"That's not how it works! We're going for a drink, not to rob an ice cream wholesaler! Besides, you explained to me that you can't rob ice cream stores because they lose profits, and they have a bad habit of closing down! Where will you get your favorite ice cream?! So the minimum is a kilo and a half, no more! We still need to make sure it won't melt in my pocket, if anything."

" (<‸<)..." - The girl playfully pouted her lips, but it was obvious that she accepted the argument.

Anyway, we soon headed over to Junior's place to wet our throats, and at the same time to say a couple of fi's about the douchebags they had given out that the police had already tied up.

A little later. The streets of Vale. 

"(<_<)... (>_>)... (v_v)...?"

" M-da-ah-ah-ah," After a moment of looking at the smashed windows, doors, and the overall picture of the noble mayhem, I issued a conclusion. -" I think our friend is in trouble. All right, let's go take a look."

Inside, we were met with an even bigger mess than the outside. The modernist lighting fixtures were smashed to pieces, the DJ's seat was smashed to pieces, and the dance floor had ceased to exist, as if a couple of Urs, the local grimm bears, had sparred on it. The owner of the place sat in front of what was left of the bar, holding what appeared to be the last surviving glass in the place, and watched grimly as one of the Melakaite twins (Roman never cared which one was Melanie and which was Milshayades) filled his whiskey. With his other hand, he held an ice pack to his head. Another one was positioned in his groin area.

" (O_o)..."

" Totally agree with you Neo, someone definitely had a classy night. "

"Oh, you're the last thing we need," the two-meter tall man with the nickname 'Petty' moaned... some people in the criminal underworld have no imagination at all. 

"Is that any way to greet old friends, Hay?"

"Roman, fuck you! I'm not having a good time without your sense of humor! What are you doing here?"

"Yeah, you're in a bad mood," I lean against the counter, and my sister in the scarlet dress throws me a glass of bourbon, which apparently wasn't the last piece of glassware the owner of the place had in his hands. - "And I just came in for a drink. It's been a busy day," I outline a circle with my hand, which somehow already had a lit cigar in it, as if to show the volume of this 'busyness'. - "You know, world conspiracies, femme fatales and all that."

"Oh, don't talk about femme fatales," the man was clearly sad.

"I had a suspicion, but that episode was just a trailer, and it wasn't really time-bound, so I'm not sure. And if "in our friendly ranks" there's an outlaw, it will be necessary to conduct an "educational conversation".

I mean, who's Junior? Junior is not just the owner of the bar, he is a kind of mediator, information broker and holder of "neutral territory" in one person. He never interfered with anything, but his bar was the place where "respectable people" who had certain disagreements that could lead to the formation of corpses when they met "respectable people" could sit down at a table and discuss their misunderstandings over a glass or two of good booze. And most importantly, they were sure that they could leave the bar on their own and there would not be a regiment of "friends" of the competitor waiting for them. It was also possible to buy or sell some information, hire people for a couple or three one-time operations, though not very competent, but what could be done - it was not Junior's specialty, he was more of an intermediary. And just to have a good time, of course. And that's why it was impossible to touch Hay or even to offer him a "roof", according to the general agreement. What is there, even the cops did not shake him and did not charge anything, all the same "gentleman's agreement" in a world full of demon cannibals, guarded sacredly. No one wanted any unnecessary negativity. Mr. Shong, by the way, also understood his place perfectly well, and therefore the neutrality was kept sacred, did not interfere and did not burrow. That's why he had been in business for over twenty years.

"Ah," he waved his hand. - "A girl showed up here. A gorgeous blonde. Not from around here, looking for information on some woman. And booze, of course. Except I didn't think she was allowed to drink, and you know the rules." Yeah, the reason the cops didn't touch Junior was because he couldn't have minors with a glass, drugs, or underage whores in his place. 

" Let me guess, you sent her off on all counts? "

"She didn't say who she knew about me from," Junior put his glass down. - "And anyway, it felt a lot like a setup, even though it's not common, but there's a first time for everything. I probably shouldn't have called her petty, though. The girl took offense," he grimaced and adjusted the ice in his groin. - "Dead grip..."

" Oh..."

"Uh-huh," Hay grumbled and glanced in my direction, "I'd say familiar moves... "

" But-but-but, I've never grabbed a man by the stuff!" - I was outraged.

"You haven't, but Neopolitan has... Though yeah, there's just a blade attached."

" Yeah..." - I involuntarily felt a chill. - "Huntresses are scary. But we digress, what happened next?"

"Nothing," my companion wrinkled his nose again and sighed heavily, "I don't really know anything about the woman she's interested in, and if she's ever appeared in Vale, it was either a long time ago, or she hasn't attracted any attention. And after that blonde's actions, the guards and sisters are all over her..."

"Painted bitch!" - The woman's angry hissing in two perfectly synchronized and almost indistinguishable voices indicated that our conversation was being listened to, but it didn't stop the twins from talking to Neo about something... hmm. As far as Neo was concerned, of course.

"Anyway, she scattered everyone, messed things up, but not much beyond the fun of the celebrating Hunter team. No corpses, so no complaints about her. But she can't come in here now," Junior continued after a moment's thought, "not until she pays for the repairs, anyway."

I thought I was having a bad day," he said. 'And I thought I was having a bad day,' the mood had really lifted, judging by the sad look on the man's face, he was once again convinced that Roman's heart was happy when something nasty happened. Well, I should cheer him up. - "Let me at least see who did this to you."

" Here, look," the bartender set the now nearly empty glass on the counter and pulled out his Scroll. A couple of taps on the screen and it displays a still image from one of the cameras in the hall. - "Here."

" Wow..."

No, I understood that in the series, made in the most primitive 3D Max for the change from breakfast at the moment of a smoke break could hardly display the appearance of the character at least any authenticity, even after the budget increase and the growth of graphon there everything was far from ideal, but that's how much, I realized only now. The same Hood, of course, was damn cute, but I didn't pay much attention to her appearance - I was more interested in the battle scythe in her hands, directed in my direction.... She looked about nineteen-twenty years old, tall, soft and attractive features, gorgeous violet eyes, a mischievous grin on her lips, and a mop of thick golden hair down to a tight ass... and in general, the whole figure, including the upper three or almost four, was above all praise. Did I remember saying that this world is full of beautiful women? Yes, that was true, but even against their background, Yang Xiao Long looked like a top model. There's nothing left to do but drool... or is it more than that? Okay, I'll sweeten Junior's raspberry a little and ruin the image of a feathered ass.

"The niece of our friend the alkonaut with the scythe has grown up nicely."

"Alkonaut with a scythe? Crowe..." - Hay grabbed his head. - "Of course, who else could have relatives that fucked up! That explains why she wasn't exactly burning to tell me who she came from - he owes me half a grand in linen."

The Hunter community is very small, everyone knows each other, if not personally, then they've heard of each other. And there are only a few Hunters who have passed their fourth decade and are approaching their fifth. The specifics of the work, who are maimed, who simply say "I've had enough", many are sent to the other world. So the current Hunter, that is in the office and Ozpin, may well be on the rumor. But Crowe is a special case. It's all about the fact that he doesn't run dry. Not to say he's always on a brow, but he's always a little tipsy. He's also always having some shit happen to him, like a chair falling under his ass, or a fight breaking out, and his equipment is always glitching. In general, with such a reputation everyone sincerely believed that he would not live to thirty, especially since somewhere "halfway" to this significant age he began to sour. But despite all this, the man was alive and had all his limbs. And that's what put a lot of people off - a walking anomaly.

"This ain't your day, buddy," I chugged the rest of the whiskey.

"Ay," Junior waved his hand hopelessly, 'but now I know who to bill the next time he comes here,' the bartender finished his drink and reached behind the bar, where he pulled out a nearly full bottle and began pouring it into glasses. Meanwhile, there was laughter and suspicious murmuring on the women's side of the bar, and the ladies weren't idle either. - "How did it go with you?" - Hay asked.

"So-so," I shook my cigar in the air and took a puff, "a little unplanned, a little riskier than I would have liked, but at least I got away in one piece. I didn't intend to inform the bartender that that was the purpose of my adventure. "And the footage you gave me--"

" Hey, I warned you right off the bat that they were just civilians who'd had their Aura unlocked for a couple lien, after which they started thinking they were Spruce Willis. Everyone. So no exchanges or returns!"

"I wasn't going to," I take another sip, "just complaining about life."

"KHE!" - the big guy choked. - "Roman Torchwick - and not trying to make some kind of profit? There's a Goliath dead somewhere, maybe even more than one."

"Maybe. Well, either I'm tired... or I'm suddenly in love..."

"'Aha," Hay coughed. -"How many times can you drown me?!"

"Well, you're overreacting to everything," I shrugged. - "How's the situation in the city?" - I'm changing the subject.

"Well, how can I tell you... there's talk that White Fang's been making some bad moves, no matter what happens. And so everything is the same, but the suppliers are raising the price of gin again, the greedy Mistral bargainers, I'll be buying tequila in Wakuo..."

Junior continued to rattle on, giving me the "bartender's chit-chat," while I sipped my cigar and watched Neo, in the company of the Malakite sisters, savoring an ice cream cone with some liquor at a table that had been hastily restored to its upright position, and typing something on his Scroll. In general, the girls were also having a cultural rest. It was good, the nerves that had been compressed into a spring gradually relaxed. It was a pity that tomorrow they would have to deal with this "lieutenant of Taurus" and a crowd of fanatical terrorists, but that would be tomorrow, but for now.... 

"Pour another round, Junior."

*(Blech!)