War on Crime #5

"Damn," Arthur winces, clutching his injured side. "I stretched too much, fuck. Is it bleeding?" He asked Vincent, who was by his side, painting the newly installed brick wall.

"No, the stitches I used were military grade." The man replied, dipping the brush in red paint. "I must say, this design of yours is unique. I haven't seen anything quite like it."

"That's why it's original," Arthur smirked, hammering another nail. Turning around, he looks over to Sabine and Alexander, who were installing the metal beams while Sabine welded them in with flame magic.

"It's been a week since I've been suspended from school," he thought, taking another plan and hammering it in. "I hope the others are doing well, they must be bored out of their mind."

David grunts as he slowly gets up, using the wall as his brace. George was beside him, in a far worse state than he was. Unfortunately for him, George was quick to catch on and retaliate. Earlier, he had assisted David as he was getting attacked.

As George was passing by the hallway to his first class, he saw four boys wearing year-two uniforms, pushing and huddling around someone. Compared to the four boys, the other in question was significantly smaller.

George was about to shrug and move along to mind his own business if it weren't for the familiar glasses that were thrown to the floor.

"David!" George yelled out, running over to him. "Hands off my brother!" he said, garnering the attention of the four assailants.

Charging back his right arm, he threw a left hook, hitting one of the bullies in the left cheek. There were four in total, surrounding David in the small alley. "I knew something was wrong! David's been acting strange for a week!"

throwing a straight left punch, George hit the other in the cheek, throwing him back, leaving the other two, who were holding David by both his arms. "Let him go!" George demanded.

The two smiled at each other before turning to him. "Or what?" They sneered.

George opened his mouth to respond when a blunt object collided with the back of his head. "-ugh!" he grunted, falling over to the ground.

"Get him!" they collectively said, throwing David away and gathering around the bigger student. They kicked George wherever they could, the head, the stomach, the legs, and his back.

"Stop it!" David scampered to his legs and tried to drag one of his brothers, who was bracing himself as best he could.

"Get off me, runt!"

"Gah!"

David was thrown to his side, rolling and colliding with the wall, and he too was knocked unconscious. Even as they were both helplessly unconscious, unable to fight for themselves, the four boys still kept beating them.

"Huff– huff– That's enough for today."

"Tch, The little shit ruined my clothes."
"The bigger bastard got me good, I can feel it."

As they walked away victorious, George opened his eyes just enough to try and see his attackers. "I'll get you back, fuckers."

"Pweh!" Sabine spat, trying to get the stray hair out of her mouth. Turning to her and Alexander's handiwork, she smiled proudly. "You know what, Arthur? This is a nice place you got here, especially with these." She tapped the metal beams she and Alexander had bolted and welded to the ground.

"I know," Arthur smirked. "I got it for cheap. Whoever decided the price, he was an idiot." He joked. "This building has a metal frame, a strong foundation, and strong building materials. The fire couldn't spread because of the metal in between the layers of metal and brick."

"It was as easy as attaching the metal to the frame and boom!-- we're almost finished." Alexander huffed, wiping the sweat from his brows. "I need a break, I'm too old to be carrying large metal beams."

"Says the guy who'd run straight through metal crates and punch men into mush." Arthur rolled his eyes. "Sure."

Sitting around the kitchen island, Arthur poured Iced lemonade from the new magic tool.

"An Ice-Box Storage, or a refrigerator, are as expensive as they are rare. To think I'd find one here, undamaged and for free." Arthur thought happily, drinking the lemonade. "A little bit of cleaning later, I now have a functional refrigerator."

"Hey, Alexander, How's the traitor? Any words? We've been hijacking their operations, trying to get their attention for five weeks already."

The large man drank his glass of lemonade in one gulp. "Yeah about that," He paused, "I went to that Café, up by Elmhurst Street…"

Vincent just sighed. "Damn it Alex–"

"...And this bloke walked up to me when I got my coffee. He passed me a letter."

"With a bullet." Sabine finished, getting irritated too.

Arthur watched the three in curious confusion. "What are they talking about? They keep forgetting that there's four of them now."

Alexander put the bullet on the center of the marble countertop. It was a revolver round, with the name Alexander scratched on the side of it.

Alexander sighed, pinching the bridge of his eyes. "I slipped up, now they know I'm alive. They even invited me to a parley," he said, wholly distraught and disappointed in himself.

"Well, that's that." Arthur nodded understandingly as he got up to stretch his arms. "It's showtime."

Sabine shook her head. "Absolutely not. Parley is incredibly dangerous, especially since Alexander's alone."

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "But he's not alone, he's got us, doesn't he?"

"Ha!" Vincent laughed. "He's right, Alexander's not alone anymore. He has us and we will be for him."

"In favor of it yell Aye!" Sabine joined in, hoisting the glass of iced tea.

"Aye!"

Teams of bodyguards lined the hallways, all armed with revolvers, ammunition, knives, and nailed bats. The carpet was red as blood contrasted the dark, treated walls. Cigarette smoke and alcohol filled the air of the deluxe, bar hidden away in the Inner city.

"Chaperone, Sir?" the waiter asked nervously, his sweat trickling down his neck. "T-The guest has arrived."

The man in question was dressed in a fine, white three-piece suit. His towering, muscular physique was hidden away by the silk fabric, clearly of high-quality materials. He looked at the cowering waiter, removing the cigarette from his mouth.

"Guests?" He asked, his voice deeply questioning the information he just heard.

The waiter gulped down on his saliva before answering. "Y-Yes, sir. Guests. There are four of them. The man you invited, his two older companions, and one young man. They're all dressed and armed."

Eclipse Chaperone nodded, giving the man a rolled stack of sterling bills. "Alright, take this for the bill and clean-up."

"T-Thank you sir."

Eclipse turned to his aides, who stood a few steps away from his table. They walked over to the center table, the only table which was being used in the large establishment, and bent over for him to speak.

"I thought he was alone." he asked, clearly not pleased. "Why are there four?"

"I'm sorry sir, the informants were killed before they could give anymore." the guard replied.

Eclipse frowned. "Why is that?" he asked.

"Y-You s-shot them s-sir." the man quivered.

Eclipse nodded slowly, reaching into his pocket. "Ah! You're right!" he said.

bang!

The man fell on the carpet, his blood pooling and staining the scarlet carpet. Eclipse turned to the waiter. "C-Clean that up."

"Y-Yes sir!"

The group of four stiffened from the sound of the gunshot. Alexander turned to the two bodyguards with a questioning eyebrow. Vincent, Sabine, and Arthur stiffened, although it was not obvious because their faces were covered by black fedora hats and masks that matched their black suits.

"So much for a parley." Alexander scoffed, earning an eyebrow from the guard. "What? Do we have a problem?" he asked, his voice dropping two octaves lower.

The two guards reached for their guns reflexively upon hearing his voice. Alexander scoffed with a smirk on his face. Removing his fedora, letting his white hair flow. "Chaperone still follows his personal philosophy of quantity over quality."

Arthur raised a questioning eyebrow underneath his fedora. "Eclipse Chaperone?! That guy?!" he internally screamed. "The game's second-rate villain?"

"El Chaperone– Baba Yaga– a man of a northeast ethnicity, is part of a dying clan of tundra-hardened men. Besides the three musketeers, he was the second-most feared criminal in the capital." Arthur gulped. "He's also notorious for being cruel to both his enemies and underlings, killing them off for the most trivial of things. A true psychopath."

Arthur sighed as he followed after the three musketeers, into the dimly lit establishment, which had gangsters posted in every conceivable spot possible. In the distance he could clearly see one gangster being hauled away by a scrawny waiter, his blood smearing the scarlet carpet.

"Another one bites the dust." he sighed. "Unlike the three musketeers, who robbed the rich and distributed it to the poor, only after taking their cut– much like robin hood would've done— Baba Yaga has no moral code, only death, authority, and money."

Alexander walked over to the man dressed in white, motioning to the three to stop at a certain distance away from the table. They were effectively in a range of any conversation and were close enough to intercept at a moment's notice.

Alexander removed his fedora and set it on the table. Pulling a chair and seating himself upon it, he looked at Chaperone with a blank look.

"We meet, Baba Yaga." He said.

"Alexander the Great, pleased to see you after all these years." Eclipse Chaperone said as he removed his white hat and placed it on the table.

"So, you wish for a parley?" Alexander asked, cutting to the chase, much to Eclipse's chargon.
"Oh my, old friend, why are you in such a hurry? The night is still very young! Surely, you have time for dinner."

"My appetite eludes me, friend," Alexander replies, his voice etching venom into the last word.

Eclipse nods, taking a sip out of his drink. "Well, it is what it is. I will cut to the chase. Leave the capital, retire to the countryside, and I won't kill you."

Alexander sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose. "An ultimatum. Is that it?" he asked, somewhat disappointed. "Sixty years later, and you still have that terrible habit, you man-child."

Eclipse crushed the empty wine glass, "As you know, Alex–" he paused. "I never make threats, I give guarantees. My men outnumber you, 15-to-1. The coppers will be of no help to you, as they and the fire department are too busy putting out a mass fire opposite the Inner City."

Alexander got up, putting on his fedora and fixing his armored gloves. "Perhaps statistically, It'd be logical for you to be so arrogant–" He said, watching Eclipse Chaperone stand, matching him in stature.

"Before I forget– have I introduced you to my heir?" Alexander asked. Chaperone tilted his head. "No, I don't think you have– uck!–"

Shink!

A metal blade shallowly slashes Chaperon's left carotid, his blood streaming slowly onto his white suit.

Arthur slowly appears into view, his illusion unwrapping around him, revealing his bayonet's tip, smeared with a little blood. He was standing on the table, much to the surprise of the gangsters stationed around the three. "Howdy–"

Bang! Bang!

Vincent drew both his revolvers at lightning speed, shooting the men closest to them in the head with absolute precision.

"Y-You twits–" the man behind them cursed, shooting at them with his revolver.

bang!

The bullet exited his gun, only to disintegrate into ash as it came into contact with an opaque wall with a red-orange hue. Sabine instantaneously casts a fireball and throws it at the man, scorching him.

"Argh!"