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In the year 1986, crime in America is at an all-time high. Criminals, drugs, and guns flow into the country from everywhere in the world, and the gateway to it all is the coastal paradise, Heat City. On the neon-soaked streets of this beating heart of scum and villany, you can get whatever you want -- if you can pay the price.

You are Johnny the thug, and ever since you agreed to take one small job for the Bratva, your life has gone sideways. One thing led to another as you made enemies of one half of the city's underworld, then the other half. With the help of some new friends -- Alex the enforcer, Nick the thief, and the Yamada family -- you went all-in and led a daring heist on the Triad's skyscraper fortress, Dragon's Nest. It went great until you got shot and fell off the roof, twenty-five stories down.

With luck or fate on your side, and the help of your friends, you survived to tell the tale. But you haven't forgotten that someone out there has been playing games with you, pitting the city's criminal syndicates against each other with you caught in the middle. You're going to find out who it is, and make them pay.
>>
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>>1637468

Updates: http://twitter.com/ravenkingquests

Previous Threads: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Thug%20Quest

Discord: https://discord.gg/3HegtNU
>>
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>>1637473

"Hello, and welcome to the evening's broadcast, listeners! You're tuned to RK1 Radio, where we keep you informed on what shit is about to hit what fan in our city. And as we all know, there's plenty of shit to go around. That's why we're also bringing you the greatest hits of the 60s, 70s and 80s: to help you forget all that troubling murder and mayhem, three minutes at a time.

"Speaking of murder and mayhem, that bloodbath at the parking garage down in the Grove still has the cops stumped. Considering the target was that big street racing gang tied to the Yakuza, I think we all know who's responsible. The Twin Dragons, the Triads and Yakuza, are on the ropes, and the Russians are taking full advantage of the opportunity. Clearly this is their latest hit. But is anyone surprised that an HCPD investigation into a Russian shooting isn't going anywhere? Whoops -- Rachel's giving me that look, listeners. Sorry, Rachel. Let me be clear that in no way am I implying that our city's fine police force is colluding with its most powerful gang. That would be wrong."

"Before I say anything else that'll make the Commisioner want to put me away, let's get to the pop music! Here's a little something from across the Pacific: Junko Yagami with Bay City."

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aQGvlemqUpE


The wind blows through your hair from the open window as the car rolls down the highway. Relaxing back into the rear seat, you rest your arm on the windowsill, enjoying the cool breeze in the evening heat as you watch the palm trees pass by. The sun is a hazy golden orb lowering in the sky, dying the evening clouds in rich magneta.

(Continued)
>>
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>>1637493

Glancing across the back seat and the dark interior of the car, you see Catherine staring into space out her window.

The woman has been through a lot lately, you think. Her whole world is crumbling around her. It started when her father betrayed her and tried to kill her. And somehow it got worse from there.

It culminated most recently with her nightclub being shot up, and the whole attempted kidnapping thing, where she was only rescued because of a particularly dogged and stubborn bodyguard -- you. Her brother was kidnapped in her stead, and lost an eye for it. Despite all that, she keeps going, a strength of spirit belied by her physical delicacy.

Catherine opens the compartment between you and withdraws a pack of long cigarettes. Her elegant fingers seem to move confidently enough, but when she flicks on her lighter, you notice the flame shaking.

You:

>Light the cigarette for her.
>Let her do it.
>Light your own.

And talk to her about:

>What happened to her.
>The new place she's moving into.
>What's left of her organization.
>What's left of her family.
>Something casual.
>Something poetic.
>Nothing. Give her some space.
>>
>>1637513
>Light the cigarette for her.
>The new place she's moving into.
>Something poetic.
>>
>>1637513
>>Light your own.
>The new place she's moving into.
>Something poetic.
>>
>>1637513
>>Let her do it.

>>What happened to her.
>>What's left of her family.
>>
>>1637513
>light her cigarette
>something poetic
>The new place she's moving too
>>
>>1637513
>Light it for her
>The new place she's moving
>Something casual
>>
>>1637513

"Here," you say, leaning over and helping her steady the lighter. One of your hands with its scars and busted knuckles is about as big as both of hers. She starts at the physical contact, but relaxes when she sees what you're doing, lighting her cigarette with the now-steady flame and exhaling a thin stream of smoke into the backseat of the limousine.

Withdrawing your hand to fish your own pack of cigarettes out of your shirt pocket, you ask her, "So what do you think of this new place you've moving into?"

"It should be adequate to my needs," she says, terse.

"If it's out in Sunset Beach, I guess it's pretty damn adequate," you say. "That's a ritzy neighborhood once you get away from the beaches and tourists. You don't sound too happy about it, though."

"It will be fine," she says. "I'm just ... not used to this."

"Moving?"

"Hiding." She takes a drag from her cigarette, glowering at the seat in front of her, eyes smouldering with restrained intensity.

"The way I figure it, Cat, you gotta take the bad with the good. Yeah, these have been a fucked up few weeks for you. Lost your dad. Lost your club. Almost lost your brother. It's a hell of a lot to go through. But on the other hand, we're both still here. We're both still fighting. And it's a beautiful day." You gesture with your hand outside the window, at the sun slowly lowering in the pink sky, the ocean glittering with its reflection. "Life is fucked, but at least we're alive. You know what I mean?"

A hollow laugh escapes her. "I suppose you're right, Johnny. I should be grateful I have my skin. And my brother and uncle are still alive, by some miracle. Still. To see the organization you've worked so hard to create crumble into dust around you. It's not a pleasant feeling, as I'm sure you can imagine." She sighs and rubs her forehead in exhaustion.

You say to her:

>Things will be all right. You'll rebuild.
>You've got me, and the crew. So that's something.
>You're right. Shit's pretty fucked up.
>Are things that bad with your organization? I thought things were holding together.
>My money's okay, right? You've got it in an offshore account or something?
>How did those rich assholes at Enigma take having your party interrupted by armed goons?
>You told me once that your father took the Dragon's Nest heist personally. And that he might be right to do so. Was he?
>>
>>1637652
>Things will be all right. You'll rebuild.
>You've got me, and the crew. So that's something.
>How did those rich assholes at Enigma take having your party interrupted by armed goons?
>>
>>1637652
>>Things will be all right. You'll rebuild.
>How did those rich assholes at Enigma take having your party interrupted by armed goons?
>Things will be all right. You'll rebuild.
>>
>>1637652
>I'll help you rebuild
>you're got me, and the crew. So that's something
>How did those rich assholes at enigma take having your party interrupted by armed goons
>>
>>1637513
>Light the cigarette for her.
>Light your own.
>Give her some space.
then
>Something poetic.
>>
>>1637652
>I'll help you rebuild
>You told me once that your father took the Dragon's Nest heist personally. And that he might be right to do so. Was he?
>>
>>1637652


"Things will be all right," you say. "You'll rebuild, and I'll help. You've got money, contacts, and me and the crew. We'll stick by you. We're a crew because you brought us together, after all."

"Hmmm." Catherine flicks ash into the armrest ashtray. "As much as I'd like to take credit for that, I think the honor belongs to you, Johnny. It isn't my employment that binds them together. It's your friendship. You seem to have a knack for pulling people into your orbit. I wonder why?"

"It sure ain't my face." You shrug. "I don't know about any of that. I just punch or shoot whatever's in front of me."

"Whatever the reason, I'll gladly take advantage of the situation, and our arrangement." She glances at you, like she's about to add something else, then stops herself and looks away, out the window.

You think back to that night at Enigma, playing bodyguard -- or pet dog -- for Cat as she led you around, introducing you to the rich and famous. You remember her stepping in close to you and adjusting your tie, then tugging on it just a little more than necessary as she walked away.

Just what is your "arrangement"?

Not ready to think about that, you ask her about something else that night. "Those fancy folks who were at Enigma when your party got crashed," you say. "How did they take it?"

"Tsk." Catherine shakes her head. "To my face, of course, they say all the right things. So sorry, my dear. Condolences, really. Such a difficult time. Hope you get back on your feet. Do call me if there's anything I can do." She takes a long, slow drag of her cigarette, then stubs it out angrily. "But their real thoughts are quite obvious. These are not men, Johnny. They are sharks. They don't appreciate weakness. They're hungry. And they can smell blood in the water."

Regarding:
>Ryan, the politician's assistant.
>Hawthorne, the businessman.
>Baron, the musician.
>Someone else.

You suggest:
>Reaching out to them.
>Maybe they sold you out.
>Fuck 'em. You don't need 'em.
>Something else.
>>
>>1637766
>Ryan, the politician's assistant.
>Maybe they sold you out.

>Baron, the musician.
>Reaching out to them.

>Hawthorne, the businessman.
>Fuck 'em. You don't need 'em.
>>
>>1637771
Supporting
>>
>>1637766

You open the drink compartment and note with satisfaction that Cat has stored some of your favorite beers inside. She must have learned what you liked after living in your house for those three weeks and stocked the limo ahead of time. You take one out, crack it open, and take a drink, enjoying the refreshing coolness.

The limo swings out onto Adams Bridge and begins crossing the long span of concrete across the water. You think about Cat's situation as you drink beer and watch the sun lower in the pink sky.

"For starters, that rich asshole with the expensive suit and the cigar," you say. "What was his name? Hawthorne? Yeah, fuck him. You don't need him. Those fat cats like they're king shits of the world because they own a lot, and they look down on the city from their penthouses. But they don't know how things work on the streets. On my level. And whatever money he gave you would come with strings attached.

"Maybe Baron can help out in some way?" you suggest. "He seems like a real peace and love type. If anyone is legitimately upset about what went down, it's probably him. You could try reaching out to him. Although I'm not sure exactly what help a pop musician could offer."

"I'm not sure either," Catherine says. "But I'll keep it in mind."

"That Ryan guy, though," you say. "I don't like him. I've got a feeling he's the one who sold you out to the Yakuza."

"What makes you say that?"

"I dunno. It's nothing specific. I've met a lot of scumbags and backstabbers in my time. And he smelled like one. Or maybe I just don't trust anyone who works for a politician."

"He certainly isn't a man to be trusted. However, from what I understand, he exists at the center of a web of finely balanced conspiracies. To pull too hard in one direction might unravel the entire thing. You could be right, though. With the crime war heating up, perhaps he finally decided it was time to choose a side."

(Continued)
>>
>>1637858

The limo pulls up into the driveway of a modest single-story house surrounded by thick groves of palm trees. In Sunset Beach, one of the most fashionable neighborhoods in one of the world's most fashionable cities, even a place like this is expensive. But if you want privacy from the crowds and the cops, the east side of the island is a good place to go. And when you've got 20% of the take from a $20 million heist sitting in your bank account, you can afford it.

You get out of the car, walk around to the other side, and open Catherine's door for her. You notice a smile hinting at mischief as she reaches out her hand, and you take it to help her up to her feet like a proper lady. Again, your thick and calloused fingers surround her delicate hand. Then she stands up, and you let go. Cat smoothes out her skirt, and strides towards the door. "Bring the luggage if you'd be so kind, gentlemen?"

You go back to the trunk, where the driver is already pulling the first suitcase out. "She seems like quite a woman," he says. "You know, when her dad was my boss, he used to talk about how dangerous she could be if she got out of control. I never really took him seriously. Or her. I'm starting to think I was wrong."

"You were. You should. But that's okay. Now you've met her, and you can start to form your own opinion -- uh --" You haul two suitcases out of the limo's trunk, one with each hand. "Shit, I'm sorry. I forget your name, kid."

"It's Kazuya," he says. "You can call me Kaz if you want."

"Kaz, right." You haul the suitcases towards the front door. "In my defense, we got pretty drunk that night. That ramen shop had some good sake."

After bringing Cat's things inside, you say good-bye while Kaz parks the limo in the garage, and the two of you head out to the street. "Wish I had my own car," he says. "Never needed it. When you hang out with street racers, you've always got a fast ride someplace."

"So you weren't actually a racer?"

"Nah. I was just a flunky of the brothers. They're sort of the racer -- gangster middlemen. I just hung around them all the time." Kaz looks around. "So what do we do? Walk?" He doesn't seem to appreciate the idea.

You chuckle. "Kid, just a few months ago, I barely had enough money to take the bus. One day I walked over the Jefferson bridge four times, twice with wet shoes. A little stroll isn't the worst thing that can happen to you."

>Call a friend. (Say who)
>Call a taxi.
>Take the bus.
>Walk.
>>
>>1637934
>Call a friend. (Say who)
You met Nick yet? Bit of a weasel but he's done good by me.
>>
Rolled 2 (1d2)

>>1637934
Conflicted between
>Take the bus.
>Walk.
So i'll let the dice chose
>>
>>1637944
Supporting
>>
>>1637944
thirding
>>
>>1637934

"Let's find a pay phone and get a ride," you say. Kaz falls into step alongside as you head off down the sidewalk. "I know a guy who still owes me some favors."

"What'd you do for him?"

"I did him the generous favor of not killing him, after he left me and Alex to twist in the wind on our first job together. The two of us got out, although a third guy wasn't so lucky."

Too bad about Boris, you think, remembering his enthusiastic handshake and good-natured complaints about his age. The jovial bald Russian might've made a good addition to the crew. Rest in peace, Boris.

It wasn't really Nick's fault, though, or at least that's what you tell yourself. Those crooked cops are the ones who killed Boris, and that fucker Ivan who sent them. You've let them get away with it for a while now. You've been caught up in this shit with the Triads and Yakuza. First with the heist, all the planning and preparation and the job itself. Then with the repercussions, escaping the Triads' drug lab, Enigma being attacked, Ryuji kidnapped.

You tell yourself you haven't forgotten about Ivan, and those bastards hiding in HCPD. You've just been distracted, that's all.

Reaching a payphone, you insert a quarter and dial the number. You wait in the baking sun as the phone rings seven times before being picked up. "Whaddyawant?!" A sports broadcast plays loudly in the background.

"Nick, turn your fuckin' television off."

"Oh, shit! Johnny! Hold on a second--" You hear the phone get put down, something crash to the ground, Nick shouting, and the announcer's voice getting quieter. "Just watching the game. I got a hot tip. This one's a sure thing."

"If it's a sure thing, you wouldn't mind taking a break to give me a lift, right? I'm out in east Sunset Beach with a new associate." You look at the nearby street signs. "Corner of Port and Bonchurch."

"Uh -- well, I mean, when I say a sure thing, what I actually mean is --"

"If you still want to know what happens, you've got a radio in your car, right?"

You hear Nick sigh. "Yeah, Johnny. I do. All right, fine, you win. I'll get my shit together and be on my way in a few."

"Good stuff," you say. "See you soon."

You and Kaz spend twenty or thirty minutes smoking cigarettes in the shade of the palm trees before Nick pulls up in a 1970s Chevrolet. "Holy shit it's fuckin' hot," he says by way of greeting. "All right, get in and let's get rolling. Where do you wanna go, anyway?"

>My place.
>Drinks.
>Food.
>Entertainment.
>Shopping.
>>
>>1638012
>Food
Still too early to drink
>>
>>1638012
>Food
>>
>>1638012
>Food.
>>
I'd better finish up for tonight, so I will leave this vote open and resume sometime tomorrow.

Also open for discussion is Johnny's current agenda:

>Track down and eliminate the remaining Monsters, Kojiro's elite fighters, leaving him isolated.

>Invest some of his money in legit or semi-legit businesses.

>Offer the strays, Roxie and the twins, some form of asylum.

>Spend some time with the girls in his life and figure out what the hell he wants.
>>
>>1638012
>Food.
>>
>>1638030
>Track down and eliminate the remaining Monsters, Kojiro's elite fighters, leaving him isolated.
How many are left again?
Also how many Elementals?
>>
>>1638036

Ken says that, last he heard, there were six. Between the two of you, you've killed two and kidnapped a third. So that's three Monsters down, three to go.

The Triads still have four Elements including the bitch who shot you and made you fall off the Triads' tower
>>
>>1638051
Good to know.
>spoiler
Does Jonny know that? Or is it just him assuming?
>>
>>1638030
>Invest some of his money in legit or semi-legit businesses.

How about a Mister Softee ice cream truck business that actually sells cocane from its vans?

Or maybe one or two dives, so we could organize an underground fight club or two.
>>
>>1638166
>dives
Non american here, what's that?
>>
>>1638030
>Track down and eliminate the remaining Monsters, Kojiro's elite fighters, leaving him isolated.

>>1638171
Shitty looking, but not actually bad restaurant or bar
>>
>>1638187
Thanks.
>>
>>1638030
>>Track down and eliminate the remaining Monsters, Kojiro's elite fighters, leaving him isolated.
>Offer the strays, Roxie and the twins, some form of asylum.
>>
>>1638030
>>Offer the strays, Roxie and the twins, some form of asylum.
>Track down and eliminate the remaining Monsters, Kojiro's elite fighters, leaving him isolated.
>>
>>1637468
>gook quest
>>
>>1638544
lol get it cuz theres azns im so racist XD
>>
>>1638030
>Invest some of his money in legit or semi-legit businesses.

>Offer the strays, Roxie and the twins, some form of asylum.

Both at once by giving them some sort of legal employment to act as a cover for them. They might not appreciate it now, but a little legitimacy goes a long way when you need it.

Also we have to do some training with them. We had a drinking Montage. Now we need a training Montage.

Also I want to see how Roxy and the twins get along.
>>
>>1638839
this

sounds interesting
>>
Johnny's to-do list in the ragged little notebook he keeps in his pocket currently reads:

Track down + eliminate Monsters. 3 left maybe.
Get Roxie + twins a place to stay. Help them train?
Invest $$$ in business
-- Ice cream truck?
-- Dive bar?
-- Hire twins?

I'll be returning to the quest in about three hours, stay tuned.
>>
>>1639038
We're on the coast. Set up a Banana Stand. Have the Twins work it while Roxie handles "Deliveries" during the day.

Turn it into a beach nightclub in the evening with ice cold treats laced with drugs. Get Music Bro to help us set it up and make it popular.

Bam. Distribution front, sustainable source of income "There's always money in the Banana stand" and legit employment and income that isn't easily traced for laundering our money.

FYI that's what "there's always ways money in the Banana stand" means.
>>
>>1639378
I'd say business is the least important. Just get them under a safe roof while we find the last few Monsters.
>>
>>1638012

The sky fades to twilight as Nick drives back across the Adams Bridge, the water on either side growing dark as the sun disappears behind the horizon. Nick listens to some rapid-fire commentator narrate a sports game on the radio, alternately cheering or cursing as the fortunes of the team he's bet on rise and fall. "This dumb motherfucker. What did I just tell you, Johnny? They shoulda benched him already! C'moooon!" He thumps the dashboard of his car in impatience.

You twist around in the passenger seat to look at Kaz in the back. "Yeah, so I know this guy seems like an idiot, but he's come through for me before in a pinch. Saved my life at least once, now that I think about it."

You think back to when you showed up at Club Red, not even knowing yet that Catherine was in trouble. That Yakuza goon blocking the door out front might've put a bullet in your brain, if Nick hadn't grabbed a loose gun off the ground and shot him first. You still remember the look of surprise and delight on Nick's face as he realized he'd saved you. "I - I got him! I got the fucker! Haha!"

"Thanks, Johnny," Nick says in the present. "Hey, wait a second--"

"Anyway," you say, "let's go get some grub. I'm starving. Let's get ourselves some ..."

>Pizza
>Seafood
>Mexican
>Donuts
>Fine dining
>>
>>1639538
>Hamburger
We have a guy named Kaz here and we're in America how can we NOT get a good burger
>>
>>1639538
>>Pizza
Duh

It's either this or

>Seafood
>>
>>1639538
>Pizza
>>
>>1639538
>Mexican
Let's mix it up a little
>>
>>1639538
That fancy restaurant we found Nick at with the Hamburg Steak? It's been a while.
>>
>>1639538
>>Seafood
>>
>>1639538

"Let's get ourselves some pizza," you say. You gesture indicating a big circle. "I need one about this big, and just, put all of the meat on it. Every meat. All of it on there."

"I know just the place," Nick says, cutting somebody off as he swerves into the right lane to turn north. "Leave it to me!"

Soundtrack: Tarantella Napoletana (aka that stereotypical Italian music)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U-xsosv6uM0

Nick takes you to a big place in Central called "A Pizza You Can't Refuse." The sign out front has a suited mobster-type handing out a slice of pizza. The three of you walk inside to a busy pizzeria, complete with Mediterranean music and Italian chefs who do the thing where they spin pizza dough into the air.

The three of you take a seat near the back, which just out of habit you make sure is near an exit. Nick orders pasta and a small pizza with three or four types of pepperoni. Kaz gets something with lots of vegetables. You order the largest meatlovers' pizza they have.

The restaurant has a friendly vibe, and you see a lot of ordinary folks with their families, chatting with each other or the staff, everyone having a good time. You can't help notice a few people among the crowd, though. They have that look, where they never really relax. Their eyes never stop moving for long.

The three of you probably aren't the only crooks here. This is Heat City, after all.

Choose 3, and list them in order of importance.

>You befriend someone useful.
>You hear rumors of an opportunity.
>You gain a clue to your investigation.
>You are not ambushed.
>>
>>1639605
>>You hear rumors of an opportunity.
2
>>You gain a clue to your investigation.
3
>>You are not ambushed.
1
>>
>>1639605
>You are not ambushed.
>You gain a clue to your investigation.
>You hear rumors of an opportunity.
>>
>>1639605
>>You hear rumors of an opportunity.

>You gain a clue to your investigation.

>You are not ambushed.
>>
>>1639605
>You are not ambushed.
>You gain a clue to your investigation.
>You hear rumors of an opportunity.
We got enough crew wise
>>
>>1639425
Have you read the quest? They aren't interested in just a safe roof. Give them something to do and a bit of responsibility with a side of earning money and the possibility of hurting some people.>>1639605

1
>You hear rumors of an opportunity.

2
>You gain a clue to your investigation.

3
>You befriend someone useful.
>>
>>1639636
I say that because I want to make sure some things are wrapped up before starting the business movement.
>>
>>1639616
>>1639615
>>1639614

Pfft wimps. An ambush is an opportunity for the other 3!

Also a useful person could be a connection not crew, and we DO need those. Badly. We just went over that in the thread earlier.
>>
>>1639605
>You gain a clue to your investigation.
>You befriend someone useful.
>You hear rumors of an opportunity.
I'm pretty sure getting ambushed is a positive for a guy like Johnny
Hell, it's the best explanation for HOW he'd get a lead or a new friend
Getting ambushed is responsible for like 90% of the progress we've made so far
>>
>>1639605
3 You hear rumors of an opportunity.
1 You gain a clue to your investigation.
2 You are not ambushed.
>>
>>1639646
>>1639647
I mean killing people is fine yeah, but this is a family joint.
>>
>>1639644
Fair enough reasoning.
>>
>>1639651
Right, but we're discussing whether or not the upcoming gunfight is an ambush or we see it coming.
If it was "fight or no fight", that's different, and even then I dunno
>>
>>1639651
Is it?

> You can't help notice a few people among the crowd, though. They have that look, where they never really relax. Their eyes never stop moving for long.

probably get jumped outside though. Still, I applaud your humanizing of the NPCs.
>>
>>1639658
Advantage for the fight, or advantage for the game?

Also are we paranoid enough to always carry a grenade yet? I know we have cleaver-kun.
>>
There are kids here, man

It's a family joint
>>
In order:
>You hear rumors of an opportunity.
>You are not ambushed.
>You gain a clue to your investigation.

Roll some d10s, boys.
>>
Rolled 6 (1d10)

>>1639669
>>
Rolled 8 (1d10)

>>1639669
>>
Rolled 1 (1d10)

>>1639669
>>
Rolled 8 (1d10)

>>1639669
Oh boy
>>
Rolled 9 (1d10)

>>1639669
Just for fun
>>
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Rolled 5 (1d10)

>>1639669
How many d10s do you need, Raven-senpai?
Just say when
>>
Rolled 3 (1d10)

>>1639669
>>
Rolled 10 (1d10)

>>1639669
>>
>>1639742
STOP
>>
Rolled 3 (1d10)

>>1639747
>>
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Rolled 9 (1d10)

>>1639747
>>
Rolled 3 (1d10)

>>1639669
Where it stops nobody knows!
>>
i was wondering when we would encounter any of the Irish or Italians they aren't the biggest crime families but i would be surprised if they missed this chance to reclaim their territory.
>>
>>1639669

During the meal, you're a little jumpy. Every time you look over your shoulder, you're expecting to see one of those masked fuckers from the Yakuza standing there like some kind of slasher from a horror movie. Nothing happens, though. For once in your life you're able to just eat a nice meal in public with a couple of friends, and nobody gets punched, stabbed, shot, or otherwise assaulted.

On the way back from the men's room, you overhear something interesting as you pass by the table of two shifty-looking hoodlums. They're hunched over, discussing something in low voices, but you got pretty good at listening during those long hours of sentry duty in the Vietnamese monsoon, trying to hear Charlie creeping in to your base camp over the pouring rain. You slow down, listening in on their conversation without trying to be obvious about it.

"--the jewelry store on Charles Street. Shipment comes in tomorrow," one of the hoodlums is saying. "Some real fancy shit, from a princess or something."

"Fuck yeah, man," says the second. "Let's do it."

"Need a bigger crew than just us, for starters," says the first. "There's alarms on all the cases, so--" He stops, and gives you a suspicious look. You act innocent and move along, filing that information away for later.

You get back to your table, sit down, and get ready to start finishing off your pizza. "Just heard something interesting, guys. Might be useful to our -- oh, shit!"

Out of the corner of your eye, you see somebody in a mask. You grab the knife off your table and turn to face them --

-- and it's a kid in a cartoon animal mask. He shrieks in fear and hides behind the legs of his mother, who glares at you with naked hostility.

"S-sorry," you say, putting the knife down. "I got startled, that's all. Can we just, uh ... agree to forget this and move on?"

The three of you beat a hasty retreat from the pizzeria and the mother's withering scolding.

(Continued)
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>>1639786
It might happen soon, anon. If we had voted to meet someone useful, you might have encountered one of them here.
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>>1639793
Fortunately, we prevented the most terrifying ambush we've faced yet instead.
The Spectacular Cartoonimal Kid is legendarily fast with his butter knife
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>>1639788

Nick drops you off at your place, then drives off talking excitedly to Kaz about how his bet finally paid off, and he can feel that he's on a hot streak now.

That was a nice day, you think as you get out of your car and approach the front door of your home, the once-great manor. You spent most of it escorting Catherine around with Kaz driving, helping her get some things she needed for her new place on Sunset Beach.

She'd hate to admit it, but from the way she hesitantly asked you to accompany her, you can tell Cat's scared to go out into public by herself right now. You can understand why, what with the whole thing where she was abducted by a crazy scythe-wielding woman wearing a weasel mask. You're glad you were able to put that bitch down right away.

Cap that off with a nice meal, and you're ready for a relaxing evening, you think as you unlock your front door. Maybe a joint or two and then hit the sack --

Your ears are assaulted by some bizarre noise as you open the door, beeps and boops like your house is being invaded by robots or aliens. Following the sound, you find the source of the noise is the big television in your living room, which currently shows a pixelated scene of two tiny men leaping around between stone blocks, evading spiked creatures.

The twins are sitting on the floor in front of the TV, mashing the buttons on a pair of video game controllers, shouting insults and trying to interfere with each other's controls.

>Ask if you can play.
>Try to talk to them.
>Tell them to turn it down, goddamit!
>Screw this, I'm going to bed.
>>
>>1639833
>Try to talk to them.
>Ask if you can play.
>>
>>1639833
>Screw this, I'm going to bed.

Tell one of them the other is cheating but they aren't a good crook if they can't figure out how?
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>>1639833
>>Ask if you can play.
>Try to talk to them.
>>
>>1639833
>Ask if you can play.
>Try to talk to them.
>>
>>1639833
>Ask if you can play.
Time to see what's up with this new-fangled video game
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>>1639838
It's a co-op game, and for some reason I'm personally offended that you don't know which one
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>>1639847
Have you never had siblings? What game could it be that one couldn't be doing better than the other.
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>>1639857
i had siblings, but we thought cheating was for casuals and touching another player's controller is punishable by death

that said, fair enough, i guess it still works
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>>1639863
Oh god. Living memes from r9k. You seriously used the term casuals.
>>
>>1639833


You're not really surprised to see the twins. Sure, they aren't actually on contract to you anymore, even since your leg healed up. But that hasn't stopped them from coming and going from your house, seemingly at random. You did offer them the use of your guest bed if they wanted it, although they seem to be more frequently taking advantage of your kitchen and television, looting snacks and drinks from the fridge and watching movies and cartoons. Now, apparently, they've got their hands on one of these new-fangled video game boxes you can play at home.

Oh well. You're getting used to having them around. "Hey, girls." You flop down onto your couch with a sigh, grateful at least that the weird noises were just a video game, and the Triads haven't developed robots to invade your house.

The girls turn around to greet you. "Hi, fuckface." "Hi, shit-for-brains." They turn back to their game.

"What the hell is this?" you ask them.

"Romeo Bros--" "You play as two plumber brothers--" "--Romeo and Leon--" "--you gotta save the lizard princess from the evil mushroom--" "--hit these blocks to knock 'em over--" "--I have more points so clearly she sucks--" "--fuck you I'm just not greedy--" "--stupid cunt do you want to--" "--oh shit look out for the fireball--"

You try to talk to them a few times while they're playing, but they're caught up in the world of the video game, dodging spiked mushroom creatures and fireball spitters. Finally they use up their last life, and hit the dreaded GAME OVER screen. They groan and fall back onto the ground. One of them kicks her feet in anger. "It's not faaaair!"

"Can I play?" you ask.

"Hrmph!" The girl who was kicking her feet rolls over onto her stomach and props her chin on her forearms, sulking. "Don't wanna play. That game is stupid."

"I'm okay with it," says the other twin. "You can take Miss Pouty McPoutface's controller there."

"I'm gonna shoot a gun!" announces the other one, jumping up to her feet. She runs over to you and gives you the innocent look with wide open eyes. "Johnny, may I please use your Redhawk?"

"Aw geez," you say, taking the heavy pistol out of your jacket pocket. "I can't say no to that face. Just promise to aim away from the house. You remember what happened to the kitchen window."

"I promise," she says solemnly, taking the gun, then grins and rushes off to the backyard.

"Okay," you say, settling onto the floor beside the other twin. "How do you play this game?"

>Roll a d10 to see how well you do.
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>>1639910
>>
Rolled 8 (1d10)

>>1639910
>>
Rolled 9 (1d10)

>>1639910
fuck
>>
Rolled 8 (1d10)

>>1639910
>>
>>1639911
>>1639914
>>1639915
Looks like we're pretty good at smash brothers.
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>>1639933
Even if we've got salami fingers - tough-as-bricks salami fingers - we're still dexterous enough for a simple thing such as 'joysticks'.
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>>1639910

The girl, Addy or Maddy, explains to you the controls and objectives of the game. Seems simple enough. Jump over bad guys, try to get under them and smack your head into the stone block they're standing on and knock them over.

"It would be nice if I could do this in real life," you say, bopping a block to knock over another enemy. "My head is pretty hard, but not so hard I could casually jump into a ceiling."

"What about this?" the girl asks. She moves her character under a black box labelled BAM and jumps into it. All the enemies on screen get knocked over.

"Sure, I've got one of those," you say. "It's called a concussion grenade, or a flashbang. I'll show it to you sometime."

"A flashbang?! That sounds cool! Can you use it on me?!" she asks eagerly. "I wanna try!"

"Uhhh, I don't know about that. I guess it doesn't do any permanent damage. Pretty intense, though."

"I can handle it! I've got punched in the face lots of times! I'm super tough!"

"I guess you should experience it in case you get nailed in the future, so you'll know what to expect. Yeah, sure, why not." Wait, weren't you supposed to be trying to set these girls on the straight narrow, get them out of a life of violence? Fuck.

"Yayyy!" The girl bounces up and down, chanting. "Flashbang flashbang flashbang!"

It turns out that you're surprisingly good at video games. Say one thing for your lifestyle, it keeps your reflexes and hand-eye coordination at peak performance. You're able to maneuver your little plumber man around long enough to last longer than the girl and get a higher score, which you consider a victory.

Your satisfaction is short-lived, however. "This is bullshit!" shrieks the twin. She starts up the game again. "I'm going to beat you this time, fuckface. Prepare to fight for your life!"

Looks like a long night ahead.

(Continued)
>>
>>1639958

The brightness of the morning dawn awakens you. You feel the scratchiness of a carpet beneath your back and realize you fell asleep on the living room floor after a long night of video games. Feeling a weight on your chest, you open your eyes to see both of the girls on the floor beside you, still asleep, curled up next to you like puppies. One of them has her arm thrown over your chest, the other is leaving a little puddle of drool on your shirt as she snores.

Carefully and quietly, you extract yourself without waking them, and take a moment to look down at their sleeping faces. Damn. They really are cute when they aren't talking about violence.

What are you to them? Can you really help them? Do they even want your help?

You'll figure that out eventually. Right now you just enjoy the peace and quiet as you shuffle off to the kitchen and start a pot of coffee brewing.

One mug of steaming coffee with a shot of whiskey, a brisk shower, and a change of clothes later, you're ready to face the day. You stand on the patio of your backyard, having a cigarette and watching the sun rise into the sky.

Today you decide you will:

>Kill one of the Monsters.
>Rob that jewelry store you heard about.
>Hang out with Alex.
>Ask Cat about creating a front business.
>Train the twins in the art of war.
>Track down that bitch who shot you off a building.
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>>1640001
>Track down that bitch who shot you off a building.

I like petty spite.

>Train the twins in the art of war.

We can knock this off quick by giving them a healthy breakfast of Mr. Flashbang and then letting them recover the rest of the day.
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>>1640001
>>Kill one of the Monsters.
>Hang out with Alex.
I mean, we've owed her a trip to the movies since forever. See a movie, kill a woman, great day.
>>
>>1640001
>>Track down that bitch who shot you off a building.
>>Train the twins in the art of war.

Shame the twins aren't an option
>>
>>1640001
>>Track down that bitch who shot you off a building.
>>
>>1640001
>>Track down that bitch who shot you off a building
Time for spite!
>>
>>1640001

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6eGnwF4RP3o

You finish looking over the makeshift training field in your backyard, then turn to your charges. "Squad!" you bark. "Fall in!"

The twins giggle, then straighten up in response to your frosty stare, attempting to take this seriously. They salute. "Sir, ready!" "Ready, sir!"

You pace back and forth on the grass, appraising your charges with a critical eye. "This city's a war zone, girls. You know that just as well as I do. I still don't know what I think about you two trying to live this life. But as long as you're doing it, and you're here, I'm going to teach you some tricks to survive out there." You've got to try to keep them alive somehow, after all.

You take the flashbang from your jacket pocket and hold it up. "All right, now these guys pack a serious wallop. You've probably experienced concussions before. Being hit with a stun grenade is kind of like getting of of those, except instead of spread out over several days, the whole thing is compressed into five or ten minutes. Even after the flash clears and your eyes are working again, your brain won't. You'll be telling yourself to get up and fight, but it just won't happen."

"Figuring out how to find your willpower again in that kind of situation can be the difference between life and death. Has been for me, more times than I can count. So I'm hoping if you two have some experience with being knocked flat on your ass by something like this, you'll be one step closer to staying on your feet in a bad scene." You heft the grenade, thinking about what a responsible person you are to be helping out young people like this, preparing them for the adult world. "All right, head over by that piece of plywood marked with an A. Let me know when you're ready."

"Yayyy!" The girls rush over the A mark. "Flashbang flashbang flashbang!" One of them jumps up and down with excitement while the other waves to you. "Ready!"

"All right, here goes!" You pull the pin and toss the grenade, putting it just close enough to affect the girls properly, but not close that they risk any injury. You hope. You turn away, shut your eyes, and plug your ears. Even then, you still see the bright flash and hear the WHUMPF as the stun grenade goes off.

Taking your fingers away from your ears and turning around, you see the girls knocked flat on their backs on the grass. You hurry over to them, looking down at their blank faces. "You two okay?" you ask, waving your hand in front of their eyes. They blink as their senses slowly return, and you get a pair of dazed grins and two thumbs up.

It's a good thing the girls have somebody like you to teach them the important things, you think. "All right, let's take a few minutes, get you two some water. Then who's up for some tear gas?"

(Continued)
>>
>>1640141

You spend a productive morning subjecting the twins to the effects of various utility grenades and non-lethal weapons they'll experience out in the field. Is it legal to tase a teenage girl? You don't know, but they shrieked with laughter all the same. Just so they didn't feel left out, you let them try out a couple on you as well. So it is with eyes and throat stinging from tear gas that you take your lunch on the table in the backyard, gingerly inhale on a cigarette and sipping a cleansing tea that Ken stocked a cupboard with before he left. The girls are taking a nap in their guest room, tuckered out from a morning of being gassed, zapped, and knocked around.

You liked having the Yamadas around. You were almost disappointed when they said they'd manage to find new housing for themselves without drawing the attention or ire of the Yakuza. This big mansion is great and all, but it's a lot of space for just one guy. At least you've still got the girls to keep you company.

Something has been growing inside of you, a feeling that you can't ignore. Despite the sun overhead, despite spending a fun morning with the twins, despite your leg mostly working again. Despite everything going pretty well for you right now. Something is pissing you off.

Just what the hell is it? you wonder, watching your cigarette smoke curl in the air. Thinking of curling smoke, it hits you. You remember a smoking gun. A woman's cruel smile. The world tilting, and a sudden rush as you fell ...

You wince. Those memories are blurred, painful fragments, like pieces of glass lodged in your brain. But you remember enough. You remember that she shot you. Made you fall off that Triad tower. By all rights you should've died, the kindness of fate and your own singular endurance somehow keeping you barely alive.

And after you left her alive, too. You could have easily killed her.

You remember her standing at the edge of the swimming pool, her beautiful body clad only in a swimsuit. Water dripping from her dark hair, running down her body, pooling by her bare feet on the tile floor. Her smile, and the promise it held, the one you wouldn't understand until it was too late.

That fucking bitch.

Maybe it's better if you stay focused on the Yakuza. Taking out Kojiro and his crew of masked freaks, before they find the Yamadas again.

On the other hand, sometimes petty, spiteful revenge is the best kind of revenge.

You sip your tea, looking out over your peaceful, sunlit backyard, thinking about spite.
>>
I'll stop there for the night, take some time to figure out what comes next and set the scene. I expected to be writing an elaborate ambush scene tonight, but that's what I get for lettiing you guys have a roll to avoid it entirely.

Thanks for playing, and I hope you continue to follow along with Johnny's journey from thug zero to thug hero.
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>>1640202
Thanks for running! I can't wait for petty revenge.

Can we get the various reactions people will have to our training the Twins?
>>
Its time to start moving up in the world. We've made some money, had some fun...now its time to start building our empire, and climbing out of the streets.

This will end with us in a penthouse office, surveying OUR city, yaks, mafia, russkies all pushing up daisies or having sworn fealty, Catherine at our right hand, the Chief of Police, the Mayor, hell, the fucking Governor on speed dial and not daring to refuse our call, Ken, Ryuji, Alex, Twins and the rest of the crew fat and happy near us, while Nick drives past in a car the size of an aircraft carrier, having just pissed away a staggering amount of money on shoes, with a pinky ring the size of a golfball.

You do know how it works, don't you? You're born, you take shit. You get out in the world, you take more shit. You climb a little higher, you take less shit. Till one day you're up in the rarefied atmosphere and you've forgotten what shit even looks like. Welcome to the top of the layer cake.
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>>1640237
Is this copypasta? I just want to have some brewskis and not worry about money or getting thrown off buildings.

Your thing sounds more like Cats plans.
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>>1640243
The last paragraph is a slightly altered quote from the movie "L4yer C4ke", one of Daniel Craig's first movies.

I'd point out we've gone far beyond "live till tomorrow". It'd be easy as pie to pack our bags and take off to Zihuatanejo. We're in this city for a reason. There's no profit in revenge. There's nobody to rescue, and every second we spend here is a risk. We've gone from a crew of 4 to a crew of 9...and they act at our beck and call.

We're already at the first rung in our climb....
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>>1640253
I'm not really interested in becoming a crime boss. That sounds like it'll make the quest about managing things from afar, and I'm more interested in figuring out what's going on with the crime families and their friend.
>>
>>1640408
Adding a bit more to this so it doesn't sound like I'm saying "That idea is dumb, you're dumb, I know what's best." I'm perfectly okay with starting up a crime syndicate, I just would rather have Catherine be the head of it rather then ourselves. I'd rather do the fighting and recruiting and legwork then the organization management. No matter how hands on some crime bosses are, there's a point where they're too important to go into shootouts with their rivals regularly, and shooting assholes is a pretty big part of this quest.
>>
>>1640408
>>1640439
I can agree with this anon, we're a meat head, we can manage our crew just fine but a syndicate is too big a plate for us, hell our interactions at Catherine's club shown us that.
>>
Still catching up but just wanted to say this is some good shit and that dance scene with Roxie was the cutest fucking thing.
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>>1643270

Glad you're enjoying the archives, anon. Hope you finish in time to see you at the next live thread.

>>1640237
>>1640243
>>1640253
>>1640408
>>1640439
>>1640492


Clearly our players are still divided on Johnny's future. I like your ambition, penthouse anon, but I also understand why people want Johnny to either stay in a "get things done" role while Catherine takes charge, or to have a simple life after all this. Will Johnny make his crew rich and establish dominion over Heat City, or retire peacefully to the countryside? Only time will tell what path he walks down assuming he survives to the end of the quest.

Guess you'll just have to keep playing Thug Quest to find out!
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>>1644262
I also want to know how the different people would react to our training the Twins.
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>>1640439
No reason we can't let Catherine do the organizing and accounting, while we set the direction, recruit and whack our HVTs.
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>>1661289
That's the thing. I'd rather have her set the direction, have her be mission control for the organization.




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