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File: PriPri7.png (4.32 MB, 1430x1412)
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Twitter: https://twitter.com/fakeqmname
Archive: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Princess%20Principal

The situation in your warehouse in the Kingdom of Albion's capital is as follows; there have been some unnatural deaths in London recently discovered by the local authorities, of which two are located nearby which is impeding your warehouse's abilities to work since the police have closed off one entire street of all traffic. That, coupled with the fact that someone deliberately set a fire to draw any attention to the crime scene, such as your workers and you've heard that from seeing the scene it scared the hell out of them, you not subtly informing the fake Charlotte and Fake Ange about your past knowledge of them and opened an unset future dialogue with them about it.

Your most pressing matter is deciding what to do next with what limited you know. You could investigate the deaths due to knowing that two victims belong to the Continental, that shit does not fly with you. But, you had no additional orders from Jackal and you know he knows about the situation from Butler. It may be best to hold in any direct action. Still, you're not foolish to not have an eye to the ground.

Now as for your own workers here, you suppose they can get back to work. If bad things happen, unlikely but possible, you're here and that means a lot. It'll also mean doing some work, a none issue, and you'll be available if the Ange and Charlotte do come sometime today or Jackal sends a message or another happening occurs. What comes first, you'll deal with.

Solidly convincing yourself of what action to take, you tell him, “Get everyone back to work. No point in do nothing as we wait for another occurrence. I know work will be slow thanks to the blocked road, so don't nag the lads about being fast. If something happens, you know where to find me. Oh, and Butler, get some people a 'day off' and have them get a feel of the city.”

Butler's glasses glimmer yellow as he does a short bow, “I'll have it done in an hour.”

You nod to him in thanks and raise your hands high up and clap loudly several times to get the rest of the people's attention, “Okay, gents! Back to work! Break's over.”

A few sighs, but mostly you get either blank looks or 'you're crazy' eyes. “Uh, Boss, there's been murders nearby, shouldn't-”

“On your feet. Come on, don't tell me you all got amnesia? You should know your Boss stopped an army once. These murders or knaves have nothing on, you, you, you lot there, you, those guys there, and me!” You hear some of the more experienced men affirm what you said to be true and it puzzles civilians contractors. “Let's go, what am I paying you for?” At the very least, the men slowly get back to work, though it certainly doesn't ease those with low morale. Shouldn't be an issue in the short term, but you should consider avenues in raising them.

Work for them means work for you, so get to.

Cont.
>>
>>2203313

Back in your multi-use office that's all work with a bed in the corner that you rarely use, you got a small pile of paperwork sitting gleefully on the desk, yay. What requires your attention today?

-Hey, Boss, about that ship you wanted done. We got the big guns out like you wanted, but about the turrets, could we not pull them out? It can be done, but it's a hassle cause then we need space to put the things here and have to cover up the opening from the missing turrets. Other than that, it's all good to sail. -Your shipwright Marcus

>Allow it. Get it transporting once a crew is assembled.
>No, the turrets need to go off or else the ship might get targeted by looking like a warship. Which is intimidating to other smaller vessels, it doesn't mean ship to other real warships, even if you upgraded the thing.

Oh damn, you need to send the funds for the construction of Springfield. A check will do, you may not like banks but you cannot deny their use. Now, what else?

-Boss, sir, we're putting the forge up like you wanted but there's an issue, we don't really have enough space for the inside parts that need to be in a building to protect them. The insides are already occupied by warehouse things. We should go ahead and do an extension to the building if we're going to do add more bits here or get more property. Anyway, what now, Boss? -Foreman Gerald

Personal Funds: 5

>Sign a go-ahead to make a small extension for the forge materials to be put in safely. Adds another 10 days to complete the forge, doesn't add any costs.
>Mh, you can think of a cheaper alternative. Think vertical and horizontal. You got floors after all. Move some stuff around, oh and install another elevator while you're at it. Course, you have money to spare. Funds: 1. Adds no additional time to the forge, elevator might take another week to be functional.
>Delay the forge and do-over of the entire warehouse while keeping it running. This building is old but still usable as of now. You have some ideas to modernize this place to make it more efficient and some other things now that your mind isn't cloudy... Funds: 4/3 If you personally oversee transactions and building. Delay Forge building and start remodeling and extension of the warehouse. Time: A month.
>>
>>2203318
>No, the turrets need to go off or else the ship might get targeted by looking like a warship. Which is intimidating to other smaller vessels, it doesn't mean ship to other real warships, even if you upgraded the thing.
>>Sign a go-ahead to make a small extension for the forge materials to be put in safely. Adds another 10 days to complete the forge, doesn't add any costs.
Good to see you back, QM.
>>
>>2203318
>>No, the turrets need to go off or else the ship might get targeted by looking like a warship. Which is intimidating to other smaller vessels, it doesn't mean ship to other real warships, even if you upgraded the thing.
>Sign a go-ahead to make a small extension for the forge materials to be put in safely. Adds another 10 days to complete the forge, doesn't add any costs.
>>
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>>2203318
>No Turrets.
>Small extension at the cost of time. Eh, you can wait.

You write a note giving a short explanation of why the turrets should be removed from the vessel and details where to put the turrets for your shipwright before sending it off to a runner. For the forge and machine line, you approve of the extension, seeing as there's no alternative that'll use up more money, time, however, is something you can wait on. The rest of the day, twilight, and night goes on without so much as a thunder. It's all quiet. Maybe not so tomorrow.

By twelve AM, you've gone through pages and pages done and sorted, got some dinner, desert, let the men go home, did some minor weapon maintenance and check-ups, did another round through the warehouse, checked out the docks, listen to Butler report the lack of additional information, very boring stuff. You're on the rooftop where you dismiss the lone night sentry for his break as you have nothing better to do.

A cool wind brushes your face as you look at the cityscape by the river. There's you superior dock with a crane platform and ship you acquired through much sweat on your part and a little bit of blood. Elsewhere, there's the steam rising from the pipes on the roof, black clouds of smoke from the chimneys that can afford the firewood, yellow lights litter up and down the windows of different structures and lamps, but that stone wall reaching the skies, the giant wall marking the territory between the Kingdom of Albion and the Commonwealth towers all. Looking up to the sky briefly, a few airships blink their red, white and green lights as they soar overhead, inbound to the east. Looking further to your memories of war, you think, the idiosyncrasy of how people wage war with painfully obvious defenses versus attacking, are these people idiots?

Then a pulse from your left eye brings you out of thought and you bring out a mirror to check your eye to see if it glows, finding it not, you relax. Cavorite nearby, huh. Keeping the mirror out, you then angle it to see behind yourself. Not long after, a duo pair of legs drops from the sky. That's quite enough of that mirror so you pocket it before seeing more.

Cont.
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>>2204034

“Mr. Browning, we've arrived.” The Princess declares as you barely hear the sound of their feet tap on the rooftop behind you. “I apologize if we're late, we had to do some special school work.” Working hard too, huh. No surprise if it's from him.

“Mercenary.” A cold greeting from Ange. Also, you can sense the mild tension in the atmosphere.

Now, how should you go about this?

>Ask them if they recall a standoffish boy when they were younger. About this tall, barely talked, stole stuff. If not, okay, you know they're not that dumb. It's you. Then see their reactions before doing or saying something else.
>Ask 'Charlotte' what her real plans are. She has something big, or big to her at least, going on. One does not cooperate with 'L' for noting.
>Open up with a very poor joke, “Ange, are you going to fucking point the revolver at me again? Come on, it's fine that you don't like me but don't go starting a fight here, please.” Then get on that you know about who's the real Charlotte and the real Ange.
>Say, “So, you two work for the Commonwealth as spies? A royal and you, are all of you in it together? Does it pay well? Or are you Kingdom acting as double agents? Or something else?” You have some interest why the Princess and the Pickpocket are doing this weird thing.
>Maybe invite them inside for tea. That'd be proper for two guests than having a conversation here on a roof in the cold.
>Write-in.
>>
Did the 6th thread not get archived?
>>
>>2204158

It appears so, (due to being an idiot and work) though I still have the material and can summarize what happened if need be.
>>
>>2204039
>>Maybe invite them inside for tea. That'd be proper for two guests than having a conversation here on a roof in the cold.
>Ask 'Charlotte' what her real plans are. She has something big, or big to her at least, going on. One does not cooperate with 'L' for noting.
>>
>>2204039
>Maybe invite them inside for tea. That'd be proper for two guests than having a conversation here on a roof in the cold.
>>
>>2204039
>>Maybe invite them inside for tea. That'd be proper for two guests than having a conversation here on a roof in the cold.
>>
>>2204039
>Maybe invite them inside for tea. That'd be proper for two guests than having a conversation here on a roof in the cold.

Placing your hands in your pockets, you turn to the door and gesture the girls using your elbow to it. “We can speak in my office.” You get a glance at their silent nod prior you opening the door and going inside. Immediately entering your room, you get the stove lit and the water in the kettle, then you have to fish out where you put your tea as the girls walk in. “Sit where you like.” Not that you have much in the way of seating.

“Then... I'll take this one!” You can hear her Highness take your kinda okay office chair and hear the squeaks it does after a full rotation.

As for tea, Jasmine should do it. You have the glass jar in your hand when Ange positions herself near the small gas stove you have, her arms are flat to her side, her right arm favoring close to her behind. So that's her normal revolver holster spot. “Why did you want to meet us?”

You stare at her blue eyes as her peer into your gray ones for a few seconds before you turn your attention to getting the buds into the teapot. “Princess, what are your goals as of right now? I know it's odd that you have connections with the Commonwealth's operative in the watching business. Not many people go to L for nothing.”

The real Ange isn't able to answer when the real Charlotte spouts back a little too loudly, “How do you know, L!? Mercenary.”

You don't stop preparing the tea when you answer her truthfully, “Met him after my time in Africa, did several jobs for him before moving on. Assassination, couriering, breaking and entering mostly.” Honestly, while you could do the jobs, they weren't very stimulating. Enough about you though, “Princess?”

She lets out a small gasp when, again, Ange interrupts, “Mercenary, what's your goal? It should be-”

This time the Princess isn't having it and shouts, “Ange! Let me speak!”

“But-”

“It's fine. It's not that important anyway.” The chair creaks from her standing back up and steps over to you. “Want I want to do is become Queen of Albion and remove the wall. That's my goal in life.” The words Queen doesn't surprise you in the least, nor removing the eyesore. The only thing you know is that shit is not going to fly very far for all parties involved.

Cont.
>>
>>2204820

Call it experience, after all, you've done a lot of destabilizing and stabilizing in your short life on Earth. You also blame the Cavorite for being pessimistic. The kettle starts whistling and you wait a bit before pouring the hot water into the pot with the Jasmine in. The Queen part isn't overall the difficult section if you believe the images, but the removal of the giant fortress that separates two powers from each other is the real catch. Stupid to you after looking at the geography but apparently not to either government gives a shit.

Guess both aren't that great then if only the Cavorite trade keeps either from falling. “Browning, may I ask you to help me reach that goal?”

Slow... tiny... feelings... memories of a different time crawl inch and centimeters to your mind. You forcefully push past most of them, as you don't need to replay of the different negative outcomes. Sure, there must be one good outcome that's predicted that's uninteresting. The long games, the short games, gotta pick one. The long ones where she wins, absolutely possible if one accounts being over fifty at crowning an achievement. The wall though... you can't recall the results.

Though you understand the youth's perspective, you are one, after all, so you want the job done with all haste. Become Queen and demolish the wall between two different government types and growing population differences. You have no doubt that you can come out on top regardless of the outcome, but the others, a negative premonition overshadows all. So spoke the Cavorite. It must think the chances aren't that good.



>Ignoring the Princess's help question, ask if they remember you in the past.
>Looking into the future and recalling bits is utterly unfortunate and painful. Less so than seeing all the failure that seems to be the regular outcome, regardless if you are helping or not. Finally, “There's no way you could sufficiently pay me, even after you became Queen.” Loss of freedom, good pay, excitement, even if you 'win', you aren't winning at all.
>“You know you can destroy the wall without being a target or being Queen, you know?” A more challenging prospect but you can at least foresee it being less dangerous for all parties involved in the collapse.
>If she can pay, then yes. You doubt it though. Doubt it'll be satisfactory for everyone involved. “If you can pay. It all comes down to that.” … Never mind talking about the past. It's junk anyway.
>Hmm... see the future, for what it's worth. “Ange, mind if you turn on your C-ball?” It'll work like a charm. Course, you'll forget some things.
>>
>>2204840
>“You know you can destroy the wall without being a target or being Queen, you know?” A more challenging prospect but you can at least foresee it being less dangerous for all parties involved in the collapse.
>Also ask if they remember us. N-not like we really care or anything!
>>
>>2204840
>>“You know you can destroy the wall without being a target or being Queen, you know?” A more challenging prospect but you can at least foresee it being less dangerous for all parties involved in the collapse.
>>
>>2204840
>>“You know you can destroy the wall without being a target or being Queen, you know?” A more challenging prospect but you can at least foresee it being less dangerous for all parties involved in the collapse.
>Also ask if they remember us.
>>
>>2204840
>“You know you can destroy the wall without being a target or being Queen, you know?” A more challenging prospect but you can at least foresee it being less dangerous for all parties involved in the collapse.
>Also ask if they remember us. N-not like we really care or anything!

You swirl the teapot a little bit, knowing that it doesn't really do much for the tea, but you do it for the motions as you think of what to say. Well, frankly one thing comes to mind, “You know you can destroy the wall without being a target behind your head or being Queen, you know?” Wouldn't be easy, nothing usually is for politics, but as Sun Tzu puts it, Warfare is based on deception, or close enough.

“Huh?”
“?”

Judging by both of their dazed looks, they don't get what you mean. That's on you though for not explaining or making sense, “I do mean what I said. Princess, you don't need to be directly in harm's way when it comes to dealing with the wall. Being Queen? That's not too difficult of a thing to do regardless of time. But getting rid of the wall is not something anyone can do in a few years, not under a single leader.”

She doesn't take that kindly. From the barely in eyesight, her brows furrow and a frown forms, she clearly does not like hearing your advice, “I can do it! I know it won't be easy, but if both the Commonwealth and the Kingdom can be reunited under a new enlightened leader, it's possible. It's been done before in the past, now is no different. That's why I need a contact in the Commonwealth. I'll gain their trust and use them. It's a stepping stone, but one that I'll need.”

It really isn't your place to say it, but, “Do you trust them?”

Any anger left in her dissipates from hearing your question, “Trust?”

“Do you think they won't betray you? Or they'll keep their bargain? Does the Commonwealth trust you? The Kingdom? Personally, I have expectations, not trust, so I don't consider it a big deal, but running a government, let alone reuniting a fractured empire, that trust is essential.”

Not a second passes when she gives her answer back, “I'll earn it. Besides, isn't that how it should be?”

Ah, whatever. Maybe you'll tell her later. Tea should be all hot and ready to be served.

Cont.
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>>2206039

You're pouring the tea out for three when you decide to change the topic to a less world-changing one, “Anyway, I need to ask you two something. You two recall a standoffish boy, about this tall, really quiet-” The real Ange raises her hand plainly and indexes you, how nice that you're remembered. “Yeah, yeah, it's me.”

The real Charlotte only stares at you with a blank face for all of five seconds before nodding. You're almost sure she's bluffing until she says, “You helped me out, at the castle. I remember. So, you're still alive.” How nice of her to state that. “Though your personality is much different than before. It's rather irritating how you keep changing it. The one right now, I don't dislike it.”

You almost open your mouth to make a correction but you hold it in for now. It's boring anyway and is the same excuse that you keep bringing up. “So we all in the know then?”

The girl taking the role of the fourth Princess nods, smiling but not smiling, “Mhm. It was obvious. So you've been very busy then, these past years. Why did you want to have this meeting now, Mr. Browning?”

Good question...

>No real reason. You wanted the two to know that you know about their weird switch. You're not going to tell anyone as if they'll believe your word. Has some tea and let them go. You'll play along with that no one really know each other from the past. Best to keep it that way.
>“Cause I'm going to blackmail you both, har har har. No, but mainly I wanted some closure from this past. After the tutoring, don't contact me again unless you have some real money. No small stipend or promises.” Wash your hands of being in usurping the throne crap and joining two shit governments back into one. Ah, you get it now, you're getting the same warning danger just like being in the castle.
>“Ange, you still owe me for looking out for the Princess back in the past. Pay up.” No, really, pay up. You did the best you could back then, and well, Charlotte is alive. Proof of your doing your job right, even if she became a spy.
>“To catch up with you two and find out what the hell you both are doing. Turns out, it's annoying. But whatever, I won't stop you but I sure am not helping out of the goodwill.” If they want you, they need to pay. If not, you go do your own thing.
>“Well, I won't remember our talk once the Cavorite comes back. Good time as any to let you both know, that green rock is not so great.” Explain a little bit of your weird personalities and how they don't remember everything happening but you always will. Works for the girls, don't it, once other you comes back. This is part of the résumé that you should tell them.
>Write-in.
>>
>>2206042
"No real reason. You wanted the two to know that you know about their weird switch. You're not going to tell anyone as if they'll believe your word. I won't stop you but I sure am not helping out of the goodwill. If they want you, they need to pay. If not, you go do your own thing"
>>
>>2206042
>"No real reason. You wanted the two to know that you know about their weird switch. You're not going to tell anyone as if they'll believe your word. I won't stop you but I sure am not helping out of the goodwill. If they want you, they need to pay. If not, you go do your own thing"

Let them know we know but don't care and will only help them if they pay
>>
>>2206042
>"No real reason. You wanted the two to know that you know about their weird switch. You're not going to tell anyone as if they'll believe your word. I won't stop you but I sure am not helping out of the goodwill. If they want you, they need to pay. If not, you go do your own thing"

One tea for Ange, one for Charlotte, one for you, all fresh and steamy, smells right and is the right color. You leave them right where they are and walk over to peek out the curtains for the interior of the warehouse. Barely lit by the electric lighting, yet enough that you can see most of the silhouettes of all the boxes and things. All quiet there.

“No real reason. Only to let you know know that I'm aware of you two. Other than that, you can go about your business and I'll go with mine. I will neither hinder nor assist in your quest for the throne. I am not helping unless I'm paid and enormously too. If not, go do your own thing.” Tea should have cooled enough to drink now.

Coming back to the counter, Charlotte is strangely more relaxed posture-wise, “You're not going to tell someone?”

You give a shrug then put your hand on your warm porcelain cup, “I doubt someone would listen without any proof.”

“But you have power and the connections.” She counters, and fair enough, that's true in different forms.

You have the tea at chin level when you amend your statement, “I am not being paid to do it. Also, I don't really care about it. It's not my business, strange as it is to say it.” You take a sip and find it satisfactory, a light natural sweetness. Seeing as neither girls are taking their cup, you gesture to them, “It's not poisonous for Heaven's sake.”

Ange beat Charlotte in taking the nearest cup and also in speaking to you, “Then what are you going to do? What are your plans?”

Nothing of importance in the grand scheme of things, “To do what I want to till I die. From running this warehouse to continuing being a mercenary. Maybe I'll change my job one day. Come on, drink and get out of here. You have school tomorrow. Once you leave, our conversation didn't happen.” Not like you'll remember it entirely or care to for the matter. You shut up from then on and give the aura of not wanting to talk, honestly, your business with them has concluded. You let them know of the uninteresting past you all shared briefly, know the fake Princess's goals and the general unhappy outcome, a pleasure from the Cavorite madness.

Once the cups are empty you escort them to the roof and they fly off. The mood was indifferent. Considering Charlotte generally wants to put the muzzle of her revolver at you, that's an improvement. Ange though, seems you've sorta ruined her expectations. That's no surprise with your personality. Eh, what will tomorrow bring?

Cont.
>>
>>2206605

Except you're not the least sleepy even when the clock ticks to one AM. It's not the tea, nor the meeting. Odd, you feel pretty good though if a little dull by today's events. Huh, for now, you'll check on the communications room. Entering the silent room, you turn on the lights to see the telephone switchboards, phones, and other boxy electric equipment placed optimally for operators to use.

You take a seat at one of the desks and start sorting through anything in the files that might be of interest. And before you forget, you pick up your personal phone and plug it into Continental's jack, “Mentat is standing by.”



>Commonwealth: Breaking and entering the Commonwealth's own Embassy. Simple, easy, don't get caught. $1$
>Kingdom: Destruction of a specific car and its contents. Mostly the contents. Please don't cause major property damage or kill any cops, etc. $1$
>Continental: Assassination of a local gang leader that isn't following the truce. Do not get caught or let your face be known. $2$
>Other: Retrieve some stolen that were illegally acquired from another foreign dignitary. No deaths allowed, don't get caught, retrieve items. $2$
>Bruce: Has a hit list. Willing to have a paid help. Help with one tonight. $2$
>Many interested parties: Find the Murderers! $?$
>Ah, nothing good, going to bed.
>Begin plotting to... for something. (Civilian Technology, Military Technology, Plans for a variety of things to come)
>>
>>2206609
>>Many interested parties: Find the Murderers! $?$
Bah we have enough money already and none of these pay enough. We'd be like Holmes have Butler Fetch us a deer stalker's hat.

THE GAME IS AFOOT
>>
>>2206609
>Many interested parties: Find the Murderers! $?$
Browning Holmes at your service
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>>2206609 #
>>Many interested parties: Find the Murderers! $?$

Oh god, is the eye the reason behind Sherlock Holmes?
>>
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>>2206609
>Many interested parties: Find the Murderers! $?$

Three AM, at one of the Metropolitan police stations...

You're following a blue-uniformed man deeper into the police station down some corridors as other officers either run or walk past you. “Right here, sir.” The escorting Bobby opens the door to where a few of the bodies are being kept at.

You can't help but whistle at what you see. It's both the bodies and the fact that the medical examiner and trying to place back a displaced eyeball its deformed socket, “Excuse me, Mr. physician, but I think you should take a break.”

The glasses wearing shorty backs away from the body and turns to you, then at the clock behind you, “Huh? Oh, I lost track of the time. I need to make a report. Pardon me.” Without much effort, you manage to get the quack out of here.

To the bodies then. “Ugh.” While you're not affected by the sight, the other man is not so.

“You can stand at the door, Officer.” You don't need a person regurgitating one's stomach contents near you.

“Nm, ugh, I'll do that.” Off he goes. Now, you can examine the bodies in peace. What do you have here?

Clipboard! Male, bald, twenties or thirties, five feet, under two hundred pounds, no known relatives, name, occupation, yadda yadda, onto the body. Cause of death; caved in cranium at the forehead, deepest depth of three inches, a radius of under an inch and a half. No additional signs of injury. Shock expression if you had to guess before his death. Body is filthy at one side, mainly the back, but you'd wager that's from being dumped in whatever shit place he landed. Last note, a very small tattoo of a red rose at the left towards the bottom of the neck. No inscription.

Next up, another male, brown hair, old, guess fifties, five eleven, hundred and sixty, lean body. Cause of death, mauling. Well, no shit. Taking your eyes off the clipboard, you look at the various claw marks over the man's upper torso and head, perhaps even bites. A hell of a way to go. Looking back at the clipboard, it doesn't mention any tattoos. When you do a more thorough check, you manage to find scrapes of one, if a bit deformed and missing chunks because the wrist it was on was mostly clawed off.

Last body on display, a woman, middle-aged, short red hair, multiple bruises on the upper torso and face. Cause of death, head trauma. Out of curiosity, you inspect her hands and interestingly enough, they're clean, if you count scarring as clean, which is. Has a tattoo of a rose of a different design but same the same small size. Has a tattoo of a rose of a different design but same the same small size, placed on her left hip.

Cont.
>>
>>2207198

Out of the morgue and to the files, says here that all the bodies were found in different places, by that, all of the ones today were, were near fires so goes the police logs. Aside from that, questions asked to as many friends and family of the deceased, none of the victims knew each other, least the associates didn't know. Any other evidence such as weapons were not found. Most were not declared missing either.

And you can bet that the police fucked that up too. Interesting. Very interesting. A very interesting case! Different bodies found in different locations deliberately wanted to be found, unrelated? Maybe, unlikely though. And what's with the rose on the three bodies? A mark? Symbol or something? Well, you're not sleepy in the slightest!

What to do, what to do...

>Look up more morgues to examine to bodies. See how many do have that tattoo.
>Head to one of the scenes where a body was dumped. See what can be found from there.
>Maybe you should go to some night pubs, not for drinks, but to listen in. Eavesdropping.
>Wander about London. Something is bound to happen this late at night.
>>
>>2207201
>>Head to one of the scenes where a body was dumped. See what can be found from there.
We can wander about there too at night
>>
>>2207201
>>Head to one of the scenes where a body was dumped. See what can be found from there.
>>
>>2207201
>Head to one of the scenes where a body was dumped. See what can be found from there.
>>
>>2207201
>Head to one of the scenes where a body was dumped. See what can be found from there.

If by chance you could find something of importance at a crime scene, that would be a nice lead. So far, seems like no one has any idea of what went down. Nearest spots, ah, file for that too. You got two spots that are within walking distance and conveniently close to each other. Since you're not so picky, heads or tails dear shilling? Tails it is. The south most scene it is.



Streets are sparse with people when you march onward to your objective, mostly Bobbies on the beat and a few beggars curled up in whatever they have in alleys. A few of the daring ones sleep near the doors with a ceiling overhead. That aside, no cars, but plenty of lights guide your way until you reach the spot.

Yes, it's another alleyway except it's dark since it's very early morning. You greet the lone policeman keeping watch of the area and share some boring chitchat before being let through. There's no lighting here, hence you have a lantern prepared and burning bright. Ah, you should hurry before you run out of oil. At this scene, you have basically trash and more trash piled on more trash, it's pretty impressive that the body was even founded by anyone at all. Or burn marks because of arsonists.

Anyway, your focus on a bloody dark red blanket, it's original color is hard in part from the lantern shining orange rays, but you presume it to be gray or white. What body left here was wrapped for some reason, hm, nothing else on the cloth. A shame. The trash pile... fuck that. You're very sure nothing good is in there. How about that fire? You crouch down over a butchered barrel that smells like any burnt object, so charcoal. Given the position of the different flammable materials here, it's interesting to find nothing caught on fire. A very 'safe' arsonist you have here.

You make sure to go through the whole alley should there be a chance of anything being found and come out empty. Any conclusion you can make is basic, fucking people dropped the body here then set the barrel on fire. Not very helpful is there aren't any witnesses.

Damn, well, there's one more location nearby, though you don't count on your luck...

>Roll 1d100
>>
Rolled 6 (1d100)

>>2208385
>>
Rolled 24 (1d100)

>>2208385
>>
Rolled 9 (1d100)

>>2208385
>>
>>2208385
>24

Arriving at the next location, surprises all around, it's another alley cordon off by a lone sentry. You do a repeat with that Bobby and go on into a lesser pile of junk thrown backstreet. Again, at the scene, you are able to find a different colored cloth that's absorbed large stains of dried blood, another 'safe' arsonist barrel. Whoever did these, were debilitate in making sure the bodies were found and not damaged by their signal fires. You'd wager they did this in all of the placements. Arrogance on their part? Sheer boredom? Or is it an organization?

Lacking in any leads, you put off any more wild guesses and do a final rundown of the alley. Coming to the intersection, you find nothing of worth once more and head on the back when you suddenly get a chill down your spine. Quickly you turn around and bring your arms up when a cloth wrapped in something heavy smack your entire being enough to launch you off your feet.

Your back hits the ground not too badly but your arms are bleeding from some cuts from the heavy thing that smack you real good. Tossing the object off yourself, you get up as you hear loud footsteps to your right. “Son of a-!” Your lantern broke! The glass gave you the cuts! Add to the fact your only personal light source is gone and your perpetrator is getting farther away from you, you're not having a great time about this.

You can't see, you're kinda messed up, your blood has been shed. Your blood has been shed. Yours. Any pain your arms and body felt dissipates rapidly, letting you push yourself into a sprint after the thrower. Whoever it is not getting away that easily from you. All your focus goes into listening for the echoes of the assaulter's feet hitting the brick and mortar, makes you job fair amount easier.

Guess that's one good thing about this crappy city. Left, straight, right, left, left, right, you track the bastard down, not enough to catch up to him, or her, you're going with male pronouns for now. You're just waiting for a mistake, either on your part in the chase or his. Shortly after, you see his. At the alley's exit to the main street, he freezes for a moment, looking left and right, then he dashes to the left.

Cont.
>>
>>2208805

Not enough for you to get a good look, but you at leave have an outline of the person that engaged you. When you come out and almost take your left turn, you nearly collide with someone coming from the right of the walkway. Of course, you avoided the pedestrian and end up skidding your feet on some wet pavement and lose your balance that you can't recover into another sprint after him. Fuck!

You give one glance at the person that got in the way of your chase.What the? Cousin Anne? She and her friend you saw back at the ocean liner are likewise startled by your sudden appearance. “Cousin!? What is going on!?”

You shift to the other man still gaining distance as you get back on your feet. Ah, but the other guy! He's getting away!

>Hey, you're not a real cop. Or have courage. You have a gun! Shoot the wanker! Even a dead body of a should be useful to your investigations!
>>Make it a non-lethal shot, hopefully. Shoot him in his leg! Not his thigh if you can help it, you don't want to hit an important vein.
>Gr, continue the foot chase! Maybe, he'll lead you to somewhere good since you're very far behind.
>Fuck! There's no way you can catch him now. Let him go for now. Eh, your arms need tending. Dammit!
>... “Cousin! Do you have a car?” You will catch this person reputation regardless of costs! Oh, and let your cousin in on the important details. You're investigating and got attacked. There, done.
>>
>>2208810
>... “Cousin! Do you have a car?” You will catch this person reputation regardless of costs! Oh, and let your cousin in on the important details. You're investigating and got attacked. There, done.
>>
>>2208810
>... “Cousin! Do you have a car?” You will catch this person reputation regardless of costs! Oh, and let your cousin in on the important details. You're investigating and got attacked. There, done.
>>
>>2208810
>>... “Cousin! Do you have a car?” You will catch this person reputation regardless of costs! Oh, and let your cousin in on the important details. You're investigating and got attacked. There, done.
[Eurobeat plays in the distance]
>>
>>2208810
>... “Cousin! Do you have a car?” You will catch this person reputation regardless of costs! Oh, and let your cousin in on the important details. You're investigating and got attacked. There, done.

Is there anything behind you of use? There are several parked vehicles undoubtedly locked or unready to be used. Uh, your cousin for instance. A chance that she has a car? A working one for the matter. “Cousin! Do you have a car?”

She blanks out for a moment, then points to one somewhat far back and answers, “Huh? I do. Over there." Fantastic. It'll do.

“Great! Let's go!” You gesture for her to lead the way only to get a baffled stare from her and her companion.

“Wait, what are you doing!?” Guess you'll give her a summary.

You grab your revolver from its holster and muzzle it at the runner getting away, “Criminal! Do you want to be of use to your country? Let's go!” Your words don't ease your relative's confusion, but at least it gets her moving to her steam car. A normal steam sedan, two-seater. You'll have to hang onto the ceiling and the door, no big deal. It doesn't take long for the car to blow steam and get accelerating after the man and for you to actually focus on hanging on.

You get blown by a mix of leaking hot steam and cold ambient night air as the car catches to your attacker. You soon hear the man shout out, “Car! Car!” At that point, you're not surprised when not one, but two open-top steamers drive out from a side road and your attacker boards the nearest car.

“Great.” You mutter and ready for your next chase. “After them!”

“What the hell did you do!?” The other girl on board shouts, rather excitedly for some reason.

You shout back to her, “Irrelevant! They're the bad guys anyway! Got in the way of an investigation!” Right, car chase... what can you do...

>Hey, you have too many people to capture and question now. You saw at least three per car, add that to your suspect that engaged you. You could lose some of them. Hey, one of them is going too fast. Sights on the driver... The other one you'll try to disable. Hey, nothing was written about collateral damage.
>Focus on hanging on during the chase and follow them to wherever they'll stop at. Might be an ambush, might be a safe place, hard to say.
>Fuck those people! Disable the cars! You'll question them personally for attacking you and making you do a chase. Tires, the engine, maybe putting some holes in the driver.
>... Having Cavorite functioning would make this easy. How so? Well, WAKE UP! TIME FOR WAR!
>>
>>2209743
>Fuck those people! Disable the cars! You'll question them personally for attacking you and making you do a chase. Tires, the engine, maybe putting some holes in the driver
>>
Rolled 43 (1d100)

Dice roll!

1d100+10
>>
Rolled 98 (1d100)

>>2210129
>>
Rolled 32 (1d100)

>>2210129
>>
>>2209743
>98

Your cousin follows the cars expertly, no matter what road or lack of roads they take she's right behind them and manages to not smack you into anything on the road. Still, all the maneuvering doesn't allow you to fire off at their tires until they keep on a straight away. The reverse works for them as well as you see the bodies moving to get something out from their coats or the car.

About then you notice a tall object ahead of the cars by a good margin. A crane still loaded with stacked wooden beams in the air. You may not have your B.A.R. But you think you can make the rope snap with six shots. As for anyone that might get hit, silent apologies! You angle your sights high and do what you can with six shots on a closing target. BAM, one, BAM, two, so on till the fourth firing that when you see the rope detach its items. Those large beams fall on the ground with a loud enough crackle over the steam engine near you, soon the cause the head car to brake from the dust made.

You cousin slows down as well without your say-so, but that's fine as the remaining car fails to brake quickly enough and slams the back of the lead one and both disappears into the dust. That went well, you have to admit. Would be better if they all lived from that. You have questions needing answers to. The dust clears when your cousin stops the car, shining the lights on two lightly damaged vehicles. The lead is being pushed upward slightly to its side onto a section of broken beams by the other one. Hm, by your eyes no fatalities among the people, but you'll have to check in person.

Getting off of the car, you stroll over to the accident you made and reload your sidearm and take out your bayonet with its scabbard still on. At the scene, you definitely see that all of the drivers and passengers have been knocked out from the crash, saving you the effort of doing it yourself. Behind, your cousin and her friend are talking to one another and you don't give much of a thought as right now, you need some way of cuffing seven people.

A weapons search, you come up with normal pocket revolvers, one pocket pistol, and one shotgun rifle thing... rifle-shotgun combo gun. As you do this, you get the idea of using the men's own coats and hostlers to tie them up, if you really need to, their belts can also work. After collecting the ammo and guns, you drag the men one by one and tie them up into two groups, during which the nearby dwellers start poking their heads from whatever holes they can out of curiosity.

Cont.
>>
>>2211291

Ignoring the onlookers, you're sure of one thing after manhandling the grunts, they bear the same rose as the others, mostly on their hands interestingly enough, be it on their left or right. Righto, you need these lads transported in a suitable vehicle to be interrogated by yours truly. You're going to have to make a call for support.

What good fortune that a payphone is nearby that didn't get smashed by all junk that flew. Heading to it, you're interrupted by your inwardly distressed cousin, “Hey, Cousin! What did- Did you shoot the rope and made it fall on them?”

You made it fall before they got there, but for simplicity's sake you tell her, “Yes.”

“W-what made you think that dropping that would make them stop?”

“Uh, a roadblock.” You'd assume they have some level of self-preservation and you were right to think that. Better yet was no deaths among the seven and you have two intact vehicles to be hauled. Plenty of people to question and perhaps there's evidence in the cars.

That'll have to wait though as your kin continues to pester you, “Why are you chasing one man? What is the reason for all of this?”

>Uh, you may as tell her the truth. Oh, you are thankful for all the driving, albeit also still pissed off about running into her. Well, she is a civilian and you're doing detective work in the least detective sense of it. Anyhow, she can go about her way.
>Write-in.
> “... Want to see what I'm about to do?” Invite her and her friend over. They can see what you'll be doing and learn why. Showing would be more simpler than telling.
> Scratch who you going to call, call the police instead. They can have half and you can have half to interrogate! They should be happy that you're being so generous.
> “Detective duties, can't talk about it. I do mean it.” Blow her off so you can question one of the suspects now. You got a line of questions to ask.
>>Write-in.
>>
>>2211293

“Detective duties, can't talk about it. I do mean it.” Blow her off so you can question one of the suspects now. You got a line of questions to ask.
>>
>>2211293
>>"Just some work stuff, I'll tell you about it later once I've gotten some things cleared up but right now I can't be completely sure about anything I'm doing"
>>
>>2211319
>Sends her and her friend off with a promise to talk about it over tea in the future
>>
>>2211327
I don't know about the wink but if it makes this vote win then I'm all for it
>>
>>2211293
>"Just some work stuff, I'll tell you about it later once I've gotten some things cleared up but right now I can't be completely sure about anything I'm doing" Sends her and her friend off with a promise to talk about it over tea in the future. Give a charming wink and smile to her friend
>>
>>2211332
Supporting.
>>
>>2211293
>>"Just some work stuff, I'll tell you about it later once I've gotten some things cleared up but right now I can't be completely sure about anything I'm doing" Sends her and her friend off with a promise to talk about it over tea in the future. Give a charming wink and smile to her friend
>>
>>2211293
>>2211332

Supporting
>>
>>2211293
>"Just some work stuff, I'll tell you about it later once I've gotten some things cleared up but right now I can't be completely sure about anything I'm doing" Sends her and her friend off with a promise to talk about it over tea in the future. Give a charming wink and smile to her friend.

Giving some thought of this whole mess, you only account that your original attacker threw something at you and tried to escape by foot, then by car. The one thing you want to know is, why? Add the fact he has some helpers on hand and conveniently these boys have the same rose as the deceased, you're sure to come up with something after having a pleasant chat with them. Very looking forward to it.

As to the question, you opt to be vague but truthful all while putting it off to another date, “I'm doing some surprised work-related activities. I'll tell you about it over tea once I've cleared up some large misunderstandings with these men. Right now, I can't honestly say anything until I am absolutely sure. For now, you and your friend should get going. I appreciate your driving and all, but now, I got to make a call and do some more grunt work.” You put on a mild smile for the two and a bow as you go to the payphone.

You punch a long combination number to bypass any and all telephone-operators to make your request. An easy task but you'll have to wait about ten minutes time. Turning around, neither your cousin nor her friend show any intent on leaving. Made more obvious by this statement, “We're not leaving!”

Guess you're spending time with them until the trucks come in. Should alleviate your own lethargy, if nothing of urgent matter comes up. “Then please park your car to the side of the road, I have trucks coming along and they'll need the room.” Cousin Anne face reddens from your order but she follows through and neatly parks her car to the side. Her friend isn't in the car with her but is by your side with a gleam in her eye that makes you want to take a step away from her.

She says something in French, a greeting then a question if your assumption on the tone is right, but you have not a single clue of the actual meaning. Not the most pleasant feeling of being unable to understand someone else, “I beg your pardon, but I don't know French.”

Her mouth frowns for a moment but is reformed to a more neutral state. She then pompously puts her right hand in front of you, “Marie Florence Bonaparte, to what is the name of the madman before me?”

You eye her white-gloved hand before ignoring it and heading over to guard your prisoner, stating, “Call me Browning.” Besides, your hand has gunpowder residue on it, not fit for holding the 'lady's' hand. You don't even want to consider the word Bonaparte right now, much less the title Wellington. Work is more crucial right now than family.

Cont.
>>
>>2212650

You fake busying yourself by checking the combo-Mauser rifle-shotgun out, take that back you're very perplexed by this machine that has a rifle on top and a shotgun underneath. You do so to try and get Bonaparte and your cousin to eventually tire of you and leave but that's not working. “Hm, you're very astute on how that rifle works.” The Bonaparte mutters as she watches you, her arms folded adding to a disinterested body pose.

Anne comes in at this point, tucking her hands into her coat and glaring at you, “So, what diplomatic mission is this?”

“Police diplomacy.” It's true, though you're not an official constable.

“Was use of the force necessary?” She asks skeptically.

You were in a hurry, so yes. But hang on, does she know what occurred yesterday, “Cousin, have you've heard something yesterday? Or rumors about the number of deceased found?”

You gauge the two's genuine shocked reaction that neither know about yesterday's surprise, “What happened?”

“Under investigation, I'm sure the news will have an easy time writing the headlines.” Far away, you can hear some horns beeping and a siren coming. “I suggest vacating the premise. Otherwise, you'd have to deal with the police. I swear I'll tell this tale over tea. ”

The sirens grow louder at each passing moment when your kin answers, “I hold you to it. You promised. Come on, Napoleon.”

“Don't call me that!” Her friend shouts back. Next, she turns to you and say something something French and follows your cousin to the car and they go off.

A few minutes later, your convoy consisting of a transport truck and two haulers arrive. Who's the lead? Why your war buddy, Pixy. “Always up to something, aren't you?”


You give a shrug then point to your quarry, “I got seven packages that need to be delivered. Got any rope?” The tedious process of securing your prisoners and putting them onboard falls to you and Pixy, while the other trucks get to hauling the damaged cars and even the wooden beams. That's one way to do clean up any evidence, you suppose.

Cont.
>>
>>2212653

Returning to your headquarters without much of an issue, you set up some nice interrogation quarters for you seven fellows, still sleeping. Now, how should you begin? Rather, what sort of questioning methods should you use on these lads? They're alive right now, but you could always change that. Or let someone else do the beginning talks. So many ways...

Ah, first of all, do you want to do a group or one-on-one questioning?
>Group
>Singles

Secondly, how to set the mood?
>Friendly. As Sun Tzu put it, treat your enemies kindly. Tea should be a nice introduction.
>Neutral. Simply state the fact that your prisoner(s) is such and you are going to question him/them.
>Cruel. WHO WANTS TO PLAY A GAME? If you get a bad answer, like an obvious lie, but not silence, you won't punish the speaker but you'll punish someone else. Oh, you need the crying to be loud. So which rooms let sound through easily? Hm, could also let the door be open.
>Write-in.
>“Butler? You up? Could you do the honors? I wish to see it your skills in person.”
>“Hey, Pixy, you know any ways of making people talk?” Double team interrogation! Good cop, bad cop.
>> Be the bad one, it's way too easy for you to do.
>> Try to be the good, lawful, officer. If you were one that is.
>>
>>2212661
>>Group
Easier to break if they see what happens to their buddies.
>> Be the bad one, it's way too easy for you to do.
>>
>>2212661
>Be bad cop.
>Group.
>>
>>2212661
>Group
>Bad Cop
>>
Rolled 84 - 10 (1d100 - 10)

Good cop, bad cop.

Dice 1d100.
>>
Rolled 21 (1d100)

>>2213029
>>
Rolled 31 (1d100)

>>2213029
>>
Rolled 76 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>2213029
>>
>>2213098
Ignore that plus I forgot how to do minus
>>
Rolled 46 (1d100)

>>2213029
>>
>>2212661
>Group
>Bad Cop
>74 v 76

“And seven,” Pixy claims aloud, securing the last man to his chair in the special room with the rest of the prisoners before heading over to you satisfied. “I wouldn't want to be these guys today. What have you got in store for them?”

“Hm, I have an idea. But I need another person. Hey, Pixy, you free?” Finding that you comrade is, you give him what info you know, the start, files, and bodies, the lead up to the capture and the general guidelines of what to do. It might be effective with this group but you've never really done something like this before. Hopefully, you'll be synced in the questioning/threatening portion and that'll pressure these men to talk.



“Rise and shine!” You shout and splash some lukewarm water from a cup on each your guests, getting your wanted wake ups from all of them. “You don't have the luxury of sleeping now, boys.”

“F-fuh- AAARRRGGGG!!!” The man about to get a swear off receives a not so kind ear twist and you start pacing around them.

Now, Pixy, outwardly appearing as a patrolman by way of a blue-coat missing some obvious features, starts his role beginning with, “Listen, you lot are in some deep waters against the law. There are no excuses from that, attacking an officer of the law, YOU entering a restricted crime scene, and running from a constable.”

“Possession of illegal firearms too.” You add, “I'm willing to bet you have more than that too!”

“Come clean and things will be much easier.”

One of the younger adults speaks up, “W-we didn't do nothing!” You kindly smack the backseat of his chair. “I swear we're innocent!”

“Shut up!” The lad next to him whispers loudly. “Just shut up!”

For that, you slap his left cheek not too roughly, “You don't get to tell him when to shut up! If you speak, say something important!” You're in charge, not these scoundrels.

“Gents, I'm sure you must have heard about the bodies found yesterday. Seems like someone going to a scene trying to do something makes that someone look like the criminal. No judge or jury wouldn't be suspicious of that.” Pixy tries goading them to speak to little effect.

Hm, what fuel to burn? “You! Why the hell did you run? Why did any of you think that was a good idea? Lost some gray matter did you?” A few look downward to avoid your gaze as you walk past. “Why did one of you return to the scene? Did you conveniently forget something? Lost the murder weapon perhaps?”

“We did not kill anyone.” One of the older guys announces unwavering and stares right at you. Honestly, you believe it. From his voice, eyes, and posture, aura even, yeah, they're clean. Too clean. This guy shoots but he hasn't really killed.

Cont.
>>
>>2215540

“If you all could tell us the truth, it'd be much simpler. If you know what happened to the twenty bodies found yesterday, it'll be a great time to start talking. Or maybe your tattoos, wanna talk about that? Why do each one of you have that on you?”

A few of them mutter swears and other words under their breath and to surprise them, you whack the table to startle everyone and make them pay attention to you. “Can't answer? Or don't want to!?”

“Neither you are cops.” One of the older boys says and stiffens up, “What play are you two trying to do? A comedy? You jokers can shut up and let us go now or you'll be in trouble.” Cheeky fellow, good on his opening statement, but oh so terribly wrong with the last statement.

Over to Pixy, you see he doesn't break form, instead, he maintains his persona and awaits your move on the matter.

>Keep going, just because one calls it out doesn't mean jack shit. These seven are in trouble with you and the law. That's something they're taking on too lightly. Add some more weight.
>“... You do realize that means you all are in a worse position than before now? And while true I am not a cop, I have been given temporary authority to investigate these strange deaths. My other line of work... very not friendly to my enemies. So, you cooperate and tell me what you know, an' I can make sure our meeting didn't happen.” A good deal you think.
> “In reality, I am a Mercenary. And I am not feeling very kind today. So, tell me what information you have and,” Guess what your people found in the cars? Some neatly hidden notebooks, “Hm, what's in this book I wonder? Mr. Anderson, Apartment D, floor three, family of four. You all understand what I'm implying, don't you?” Threats, promises, you take action. And if this group doesn't, then someone else pays.
> “... Correct!” *STAB* Not that guy, someone else gets a non-lethal cut to the face. “That doesn't help you guys, does it?Who's gonna talk? I don't have all morning.” Stab roulette for silence, a bad answer gets someone else cut, next you'll be taking fingers. Someone will crack, though that can be a variety of ways.
> This guy needs to smile wider, LIKE THIS. You wouldn't call it art, but you did some unique deformation. It's jaw-dropping. Now, who wants to talk?
>Excecute one guy, simple shot to the head. Not suddenly, since you want Pixy to get his ear protection on. Seven people to six, and you have more bullets than them. Who wants to confess?
>Write-in. Maybe hold a break, change the room temperature, check out the cars, call Butler.
>>
>>2215552
> “... Correct!” *STAB* Not that guy, someone else gets a non-lethal cut to the face. “That doesn't help you guys, does it?Who's gonna talk? I don't have all morning.” Stab roulette for silence, a bad answer gets someone else cut, next you'll be taking fingers. Someone will crack, though that can be a variety of ways
>>
>>2215552
>> “... Correct!” *STAB* Not that guy, someone else gets a non-lethal cut to the face. “That doesn't help you guys, does it?Who's gonna talk? I don't have all morning.” Stab roulette for silence, a bad answer gets someone else cut, next you'll be taking fingers. Someone will crack, though that can be a variety of ways.
>>
Rolled 13 (1d50)

Dice

1d100+10
>>
Rolled 90 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>2215864
>>
Rolled 70 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>2215864
>>
>>2215870
Fucking RIP
>>
>>2215552
> “... Correct!” *STAB* Not that guy, someone else gets a non-lethal cut to the face. “That doesn't help you guys, does it?Who's gonna talk? I don't have all morning.” Stab roulette for silence, a bad answer gets someone else cut, next you'll be taking fingers. Someone will crack, though that can be a variety of ways.

You look right into the eyes of the older teenager and nod to him with a smile on plaster on your face. Putting as much enthusiasm in your voice, you answer, “...Correct!” Then placing your arse on the table, you begin to unsheathe your bayonet and are about to give a tiny stab to the boy next to him.

You can see an absolute terrified face, tears starting to form and his eyes pupils widen a great dead as he quickly realizes the position he's in and he starts talking before you get the blade in his face, “Fight club! We work for a fight club! Tattoos are symbols that we're in! A bunch of bigwigs set this up! Oh God! Uh! Uh! We were supposed to retake the bodies! But we failed!” Ho, interesting.

His comrades, however, only show the deepest hatred to him for speaking, but they don't say it. He gets it though, shouting, “Fuck you guys! I'm not paid to die or get stabbed! Ah, none of killed anyone! I swear! Please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, put the knife away, I'm scared of them! Mmmmmmmmmmhhhhhhh!” Well, how about that?

Lucky him. The very least the blade's edge moves away from his face and you return to your feet. “So, they weren't murdered?”

Calming a little bit, the kid looks downward, unsure of what to say before speaking, “Uh, um, they fought and died. I don't know if that's murder.”

“Hm, were they slaves?” You ask, curious about this fight club.

He tilts his head in thought, then shakes his head, “Slaves? Uh, no, I don't think so.”

You bet you could get more info from one of the other guys, but you can see it clearly they don't want to talk now that someone else did. “I presume you know where this fight club is then? Show me the way.” You tap your bayonet on the kid's chair and that makes him firmly agree.

Cont.
>>
>>2216031

You move the kid to another room from the rest of the uncooperative prisoners while you and Pixy hold a briefing of what transpired. “Do you think they killed anyone?”

“Nah, they're not killers.” You don't sense it and from the weeping kid in the secluded room only adds to the fact. “Besides, the few bodies I saw weren't killed by human means. An animal, maybe.”

“What fight club uses animals?”

You give a shrug, having no idea yourself, “Well, we're about to find out.” Should be exciting regardless.

Pixy looks through the slight crack into the room with the kid inside, “So you think the kid's telling the truth?”

Eh, your only lead from a cooperative guest, “I think he knows what lying would entail. In any case, be ready for the unexpected.”

“About that, are you going in to ask questions or do something else?”

>You are going through the front door, introduce yourself as Mentat and the Green Dragoon, and have a nice talk with whoever is the boss of the place. Hear his side of the story. Also, you're coming in armed.
>A fight club? Here in this Capital? And it doesn't belong to you? Why, no no no, that will not do. You're infiltrating the place, find some information, then you'll decide its fate.
>Well, two of our people died from this club. Off with its head! Take their stuff while you're at it!
> “... I'm thinking of joining this fight club.” For the thrill of it and uncovering how it operates.
>Write-in. Ask more questions, do more threats, inform the cops, etc.
>>
>>2216037
> “... I'm thinking of joining this fight club.” For the thrill of it and uncovering how it operates.
Pugilism! And undercover detective work!
>>
>>2216037
>> “... I'm thinking of joining this fight club.” For the thrill of it and uncovering how it operates.
>>
>>2216037
> “... I'm thinking of joining this fight club.” For the thrill of it and uncovering how it operates
>>
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>>2216037
>> “... I'm thinking of joining this fight club.” For the thrill of it and uncovering how it operates.
>>
>>2216037
> “... I'm thinking of joining this fight club.” For the thrill of it and uncovering how it operates.

“Eh, I'm thinking of joining this fight club.” You tell him and give it some more thought. One: You'd be learning about this fight club from the inside. 2: It sounds like an interesting place. Pixy tries to unravel the real meaning of what you said while you enter the kid's room and knock on the wall to get his attention. “You there, if someone wanted to join this club of yours, okay, tell me how.” Just to be sure, you open your coat enough so your scabbard and hilt shows.



After going through some underground special places, you, Pixy, two others and your escorting kid arrive at some sparsely filled ballroom below the city of London, lacking in many luxuries like electric lights and actual finished walls. Your guest leads the way and does the talking, saying that you're friends of his and are have taken an interest in this club. He gets some scoldings from his nondescript manager but your group is then welcomed to take a look around once you show that you're financially able.

“I am sorry to say no fights are happening for a while, there have been some troubling events for the boss that must be taken care of. Oh, you may go ahead and take a look at the auditorium. Brice, look after them. We'll have our talk later.” Splendid is some ways, sad in others.

Entering the fighting chamber, you come to a much, much more finer, larger, spherical room than the previous one. You are walking on an elevated floor containing some marble stone tables spaced out liberally lit with white light bulbs on brass chandeliers hung from the ceiling or normal oil lanterns on the wall. For now, no chairs are out except for one occupied by a lone man at the other end of your platform. At the ground and stairs when you see them, large volumes of some designer choice carpet covers the stone beneath and the small gaps running some electric wires.

In the cardinal directions, there are these quasi-rooms slightly higher than your floor holding windows overlooking the entire area. They're all dark except for one in the north where you see shadows of a man moving around. Moving towards the center, you can see the fighter's arena itself, nothing more than a pit squared off by wooden fences along with the floor that must be for the middle-class. It's not so nice aesthetically as the floor you're on, but there are wooden tables and seats for a large gathering to surround the arena.

“Nice place these people have.”
“Yeah. Think they do catering?”

Cont.
>>
>>2218413

“Peterson, Jæger, check where normal people can go on the second floor.” You instruct, still facing the pit and judging the darkness area of the floor. What's there? More table? Hidden doors? “Pixy, take Brice and see what's down below. Be discrete everyone, go.”

Your two volunteers quietly go off to scout and you hear Pixy patting the kid's shoulder, “You're with me. So what's down here?” The young teen only stammers some incoherent noises as he gets volunteered to his role as aid.

Now, what will your actions be?

>Go ahead and speak to the one man across the room from you.
>Head to one of the dark half-rooms and see what's there. Might be nothing, might be something.
>Head to the one lit room and see what's going on.
>Return to the other room and speak to that manager, ask about how to join in these 'games'.
>>Write-in questions.

If doing any introductions, how to do it?
>You're a mercenary, plain, easy, no need for names.
>Browning, Henry A. (Optional: Warehouse owner)
>Mentat
>The Green Dragoon.
>Write-in. A lie, mix of the above, etc.
>>
>>2218417

>Go ahead and speak to the one man across the room from you

>Mentat
>The Green Dragoon
>Browning, Henry A. (Optional: Warehouse owner, Gentleman, Mercenary, Teacher, Ex Soldier and apperantly a Noble)
>>
>>2218417
>>Go ahead and speak to the one man across the room from you
>Mentat
>The Green Dragoon
>Browning, Henry A. (Optional: Warehouse owner, Gentleman, Mercenary, Teacher, Ex Soldier and apperantly a Noble)
>>
>>2218417
>>Go ahead and speak to the one man across the room from you
>>You're a mercenary, plain, easy, no need for names.
>>
>>2218417
>>Go ahead and speak to the one man across the room from you
>Mentat
>The Green Dragoon
>Browning, Henry A. (Optional: Warehouse owner, Gentleman, Mercenary, Teacher, Ex Soldier and apperantly a Noble)

Only if it means listing off all titles
>>
>>2218417
>Go ahead and speak to the one man across the room from you
>Mentat
>The Green Dragoon
>Browning, Henry A. (Optional: Warehouse owner, Gentleman, Mercenary, Teacher, Ex-Soldier and apparently a Noble)

The lone man over there, it seems he's reading the newspaper, which makes no sense as no papers are out yet, it's before printing, or delivering, mmhm. Weird, still might be a good info man and someone to talk to. You take your time walking around the room to get to him as well as getting to know the dome room. On certain walls, there are signs of the bathroom, exits to the surface, and some other mundane things like restricted area for certain people.

Anyhow, you come behind the gentleman and on observation, find it strange the paper he's holding is over two days old with some obvious signs of tampering, as in man-made circular cuts in random spots. A few moments at fixed intervals, the man shifts his body and the paper, always his eye level to one hole. His eyes are always fixed on the northern half-room.

Just for him, you make your presence known by stepping a spot where the carpet doesn't cover the stone ground. Then in an absurd speed after the sound, he crushes his paper into a ball and tosses it over to the pit, after which he turns to you in his pajama style clothes and flashes a cautious smile. Unkempt brown hair, small scabs on his lower right face, gray eyes not so clean shaven goatee, and this gaudy black, green and red checked pajama robe he's wearing over some more normal clothing. What a strange man. “Bonjour?”

Really? That many French speakers? If that's the way it's gonna be, then how's Latin? “I don't know French, but I know Latin, could we speak in Latin?”

He blinks his eyes quite exaggeratedly before nodding, gesturing to a non-existent and speaking in Latin, “Yes, I do. I'd offer you a seat if one existed.”

Huh, a fellow speaker. Returning to English, you then lean on the solid table, “Browning, Henry A. Salutations, good sir.” You offer a handshake to him like any proper introduction.

“Sherlock Holmes, Mister Browning. Pleasure to make your acquaintance. You new?” He says shaking your hand.

“First time here. Recently heard of this place.” You answer truthfully.

“Ah, I thought you were a guard for a moment. You walked very silently, most unique that I barely could hear it in this quiet room.” So he was paying attention to his surroundings.

Exiting the handshake, you state to him neutrally, “I was a soldier. Now I'm a...” You bring your hand up to count, “Warehouse owner, Mercenary-Gentleman, part-time tutor and apparently an Albion Noble.”

Cont.
>>
>>2221027

“Huh, I wouldn't have presumed three of those occupations to you.” As he's bringing up his pipe that you can see is not lit, you do him the favor of having your lighter on hand. “Oh, much oblige, good man.”

“What do you do for a living then?” You inquire the strange person.

“Oh, me? I'm a Consulting Detective.” No clue on what that means, but you get detective, so you presume enough. “The case I'm currently attending has led me to this arena. It is my first time here as well. What bring you here? Gambling?” You can't argue with getting paid or making a profit but that's not the reason why.

“No, I've taken a personal interest in participating in fights. But first, I need to see how it works.”

“If you do, you'll need a nickname.”

Bah, you're not one for that sort of thing unless you really need to, “Eh, I can use Mentat or the Green Dragoon.”

“Huh, strange naming convention you have. But that's not for me to comment further.” Mister Holmes taps his feet and gets up from his barrel chair he's been using and offers a handshake to you, “Been nice meeting you, Mister Browning, but I have to bid you adieu.”

As a gentleman, you shake on it and bid him farewell, “Likewise Mister Holmes, you-”

A thundering wooden crackle and following thud of the wall from the north room stop you from completing your farewell as another man's Scottish, or Irish, voice reaches your ears, “Fucking find the stout asshole and bring him here where I can feed him to the lions! Son of a bitch was my friend! Fucking-” You can't make out the words thereafter but it seems a crisis is evident to said speaker.

>“It seems someone is having fun there. Want to take a look with me, Holmes?” It'll be a jolly time, you just know it.
>“I believe an evacuation of persons are in order. So, exits?” Oh, you'll also get your friends and leave. It seems this place is a dead end.
>For some reason, shout to the person, “HEY! DO YOU REQUIRE THE SERVICES OF A MERCENARY?”
>Bid goodbye to Holmes and do some illegal infiltration through the facility. What secrets are here, you wonder?
>>
>>2221030
>“It seems someone is having fun there. Want to take a look with me, Holmes?” It'll be a jolly time, you just know it.
I sense the beginning of a wonderful friendship.
>>
>>2221030
>Bid goodbye to Holmes and do some illegal infiltration through the facility. What secrets are here, you wonder?
>>
>>2221030
>“It seems someone is having fun there. Want to take a look with me, Holmes?” It'll be a jolly time, you just know it
>>
>>2221030
>“It seems someone is having fun there. Want to take a look with me, Holmes?” It'll be a jolly time, you just know it.

“Seems someone is having a ball of fun there.” You point out in which Holmes nods.

“Indeed.” His eyes move from the room to everywhere else in an unusual speed and twitch.

“Want to take a look with me, Holmes?” You offer.

“So glad you said it. Come along.” He states and departs ahead of you. “I suspect we all have a reason to be there.” You follow behind the peculiar detective as he strolls into the scene of a two butlers standing-by at another door to the north far away from the one big fellow in a slightly too tiny suit currently holding in his hands a wooden chair by the seat over his head. “Are we interrupting?”

Very gently, the large man puts down the chair on its legs then snaps his fingers at the two butlers who go off to fetch something. Then they come right out with a bottle of some scotch or whiskey and a glass for the big boss. Only a bit if poured when the boss man takes a swig and gasps for air, turning right over and showing you his bushy mustache, bloodshot brown eyes, and a welcoming smile. “Welcome, welcome! To whom do I owe the pleasure?”

“Sherlock Holmes, Detective.” You notice the smile weakens from hearing Holmes intro.

“Henry A. Browning, or Mentat, or the Green Dragoon. Take your pick.” First name, no reaction, second, eyes wide, last, eyes widen even more. Though you can't tell if it's fear or respect, or both for the matter.

“Mr. Holmes, an-an-and my Lord, sir.” He places his right over his chest and gives you a respectful bow.

“He seems to know you by reputation.” The detective whispers.

You reply quietly the overt fact, “I gathered that.”

“I'll be borrowing that, thank you.” Faking clearing is throat, Holmes closes in on the boss man, “Dear boy, we are investigating the bodies found yesterday that I presume you have knowledge of. It would be wise to cooperate as our findings have led us here.”

“I'll tell you everything!” That was surprisingly fast, even Holmes is baffled at how easy it is when he looks back at you. “But please, Lord, could you help us in return?” Ah, there's that but.

You step up to the plate, “Tell me everything. Can't really do much without information. What happened?”

Cont.
>>
>>2223149

A breakfast of two slices of bacon, a well-done four ounces steak seasoned with basic salt and pepper, a plain scone to be accompanied by a peach jam, and the drink, milk or orange juice, thanks to the hospitality of Boss Gilman to your people and you only. You would include Holmes if he even bothered to eat or drink the stuff but is too focused on listening to Gilman's tale.

You are as well, listening to the sloppy mess made from unfortunate events to him and his former buddy/worker. At the end of this regaling of Gilman's side of the story, Mister Holmes does an excellent review of it out loud, “So all of this was due to a rampaging father whose daughter's death was indirectly cause by one of your death-matches and now he's planning on destroying your club by somehow dumping conspicuous bodies over London.”

“What a dedicated litterer.” You smack Peterson's side for his god-awful quip.

Holmes continues unabated, “And that is why you wish for him to be stopped. Thereby preserving your financial ring. That about sums up this mess?”

Peterson raises his hand lethargically to speak, “Uh, this Charles has a bunch of fools that follow him now? And we have no idea how to find him.” Pixy, sitting across from him, smiles at the man then smacks his foot and gestures his head to you. “R-right, right, dumb question.”

“Boss?” Jæger asks for your intent now that you have a rough idea of what's going on.

>“I'll take the case!” Cause if you don't, where will you have unsanctioned fights at? Any pictures of the man? Any idea where he lives? Etc.
>“I'm willing to do it under these conditions.” Be paid a hundred pounds total, no future death-matches so this crap doesn't happen again (minus occupation hazard), YOUR people will deal with any future corpses since we're good at cleaning up after messes, and you want to be a player and not have that gaudy tattoo on your body. Sounds good?
> Hm? Oh, uh, not likely. Here's why...” You sense something bad will happen in... 5... 4... 3... 2... 1...
>“Hmm, what do you think Holmes? Is this man doing more illegal activities than the other one?” What's the Detective's side on the matter, you haven't heard it yet.
>Write-in.
>>
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>>2223150
>> Hm? Oh, uh, not likely. Here's why...” You sense something bad will happen in... 5... 4... 3... 2... 1...
>>
>>2223150
>“Hmm, what do you think Holmes? Is this man doing more illegal activities than the other one?” What's the Detective's side on the matter, you haven't heard it yet.
>>
>>2223150
> Hm? Oh, uh, not likely. Here's why...” You sense something bad will happen in... 5... 4... 3... 2... 1...
>“Hmm, what do you think Holmes? Is this man doing more illegal activities than the other one?” What's the Detective's side on the matter, you haven't heard it yet.

You have to wonder the detective's opinion on this request. “Hmm, what do you think Holmes? Is this man doing illegal activities of a greater threat than the other one?”

Not speaking to you, Holmes dissects the owner with questions and statements, “Unsanctioned blood fights compare to mass littering of disgraced bodies. You use animals, don't you? Bears? Lions? I heard you say lion earlier, you sure it's a lion? Is it by request? Or do you force them onto the 'volunteers'? You must have some affluence seeing as all of this is of a high tier. Disguised murder some might guess.”

“No! No!” Gilman shouts and backs away to reach for the entire bottle of liquid courage, “People choose what type of fights they want and they have at it! We only have the ring and animals and they pay for it! Not me! Lets the animals fight it out.” Then to you, he kneels and his hands in prayer as legitimately tears coming from his eyes, “Please, Lord, I admit I sin for enjoying a spectacle but I dearly do not intend wishing murder on someone. Those people! They do! It's not-”

Yeah, enough of this, “Right, right, enough boyo, have a seat, take a drink.” You respond and finish your plate and glass. It is then you feel the slightest disturbance. An unknown wave comes across you, no, it's an old companion, war.

“Say, Mister Browning, what is your thoughts on this case?” Holmes asks while the time comes closer and closer. The happening makes your arms itch a little bit.

“Mine, oh, uh, it's a bit complicated. Here's why...” Without speaking, you bring your right hand for the countdown in 5... 4... 3... *BANG* from an upper floor followed by a lot of running. Off a few seconds, not too bad. “I believe violence is occurring.” Then many eyes are on you, “Not my people as I have all that I brought right here. Holmes?”

A negative signal from the detective, “Fairly sure it's not the police or any of my friends. Mr. Gilman?”

He ferociously shakes his head and body to the extreme that the bottle flies off through a window and echoes the sound of breaking glass, “No no no! We're running a skeleton crew! Only ten people are supposed to be here. Uh, not counting you all.”

Cont.
>>
>>2223833

That must mean, “Have many enemies then Boss man?” *BANG**BANG* from above and more thundering footsteps follow. Makes you wonder why even bother asking in the first place. Right, twenty bodies, should be plenty of people upset.

Holmes gets to his feet and grabs a slice of his cold bacon, “I suspect the men coming here are very willing to execute each and every person here regardless of circumstances. I must say we should get moving.”

>Agreed. “Let's get the fuck out of here gentlemen. Exits?” (Choose one below)
>>Fastest way preferable. If you have to do an offensive retreat, so be it.
>>One that's not filled with so many enemies.
>How about, “... No. I think we should set up a defensive position and kill them all. With these, Jæger!” Surprise bag of guns. Now, how to kill so many people, oh, who are you kidding, they already don't stand a chance.
>Handshake to the Irish/Scottish owner, “Been a nice time, Mr. Gilman. But as I see it, when the bullets start flying, you must have been a very bad businessman.” Hypocritical humor there. “Bon voyage, we are leaving!”
>>No matter what! Consider it karma or dharma, God's judgment, etc. for being a bad boss.
>>Okay, you'll consider it only if he gives up his domain. As in everything. Business as usual then!
>>
>>2223837
>>Agreed. “Let's get the fuck out of here gentlemen. Exits?” (Choose one below)
>>Fastest way preferable. If you have to do an offensive retreat, so be it.
>>
>>2223837
>>Agreed. “Let's get the fuck out of here gentlemen. Exits?” (Choose one below)
>>Fastest way preferable. If you have to do an offensive retreat, so be it.
>>
Rolled 72 (1d100)

Time for an escape!

Roll 1d100+10
>>
Rolled 53 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>2224328
>>
Rolled 59 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>2224328
>>
>>2223837

Leaving sounds wonderful, “Let's get the fuck out of here, gentlemen. Exits? Preferably, the fastest way out.” You open your coat wide for all to see you get a pair of Webleys out of one of your four holsters, not including your backup pocket pistol. “Also, who can use a gun? And I mean well.”

Holmes raises his hand and states out loud something you didn't need to know about, “Knew I forgot something. Must be back home. Oh, I'll take one.” You safe the weapon and hand to him before getting another one out.

Once it's clear there are no more takers, you speed the process to acquire the all-important exit strategy from the quivering Gilman, “Exits man! Where are they!?”

Gilman doesn't piss himself when he gives the answer, though it certainly looks like he will, “I-I have a train! Upstairs! That way! But it must be guarded-” He fingers eastward which is good enough for you.

Pixy, Peterson, and Jæger have already gotten ready their respective pistol, shotgun, and carbine out, yet the longer arms need a bit of attaching before being serviceable. When you get the confirmation that all are ready, you motion them your 'plan', then calmly telling the others, “Please cover your ears if you don't have ear protection.” That's the warning you give when you aim roughly where you heard the shots and feet where and fire off your twelve and your squad do their part.

A short but loud affair that greatly scares the civilians and tickles a funny bone in Holmes, “I see you know how to make an entrance.”

Switching to a fresh pair of guns, you give a shrug and head to the east doorway, “That'll buy us some time! Let's go! Peterson, with me! Pixy, Jæger, rear. Holmes, please get Gilman talking so we don't die in a dead end.”

“Through the door, staircase to the right after a little room, when you go up, take a right and it's a straight run to the train!” Without question to why Holmes knew the way sooner, you burst into a similar entrance room but this one has a much fresher white paint on the walls. It's clear so you waste no time and sprint to the upper floor when you feel an inevitable encounter coming ahead.

One gun left, one gun right, but you only have one head, so you check left first and find a three-man team staring over a dead butler while partially covered by a waist-high rectangle stone garden pot. And it's empty. Two of them instantly see your presence as they were facing your direction and prepare their firearms to engage. You have one gun trained in the rough area of the enemy and fire, hitting one in the head.

Cont.
>>
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>>2227161

A double-barrel coach gun slowly creeps upward and discharges a little too early and shatters whatever far wall to your right. You fire again, missing this time but sends the man's who back is faced to you ducking. Right when your right arm swings onto the target, you see the flash of the shotgun and feel you lower torso absorb one hell of a shock spread all over from the stomach down. That was buck.

The pain soon disappears, blessed to the painkiller, and you actively aim at your target in the head and the bullet hits true. You get a moment of clarity as you stagger to a pillar for cover. Way across the hallway is a mob, a mob with guns, a mob with guns heading your way because of the sounds you made. You estimate over fifteen right now, likely over that number in total coming here to wreck just one big man.

You try to catch your breath now that you have some solid cover between you and the enemy when you spot Peterson rounding the staircase corner and slam fires his whole load across to the other hallway. It kills some, injures some and scatters the rest right then and there for cover. The escorting party then arrives at the stairs as you fire a suppressing shot. “Did we miss anything?” Holmes yells.

“There's a party here!” A hostile bullet ricochets off of the rather the thin marble ground and skids off to somewhere else. You take a second to gather the east direction, noting another empty square garden, Roman or Greek pillars, and assorted art pieces over the walls. More importantly, you can see the door sign where there's the image of a train on it. Now to get to it alive.

-

4x Infantry: Pixy (Pistol), Peterson (Shotgun), Jæger (Rifle), You (Revolvers all over your body)
Consulting Detective: Sherlock Holmes
A boss and his few servants.

What to do...

>Do what the enemy would never expect, an assault by one man! Really though, take over the garden held by that last man and provide suppressing fire so the noncombatants can get out. Then filter out to the exit.
>A short period of overwhelming fire on a mob should easily keep them pin down so everyone can make it to the train in relative peace. Though that means running low on ammo cause not everyone expected a fight.
>Ask if there's another way out as this one is kinda dangerous and you got buckshot as a result. “Is there's another way out?” Yes, sometimes you need to reconsider what led to these events.
>Write-in.
>Or ask questions.
>>
>>2227169
>>A short period of overwhelming fire on a mob should easily keep them pin down so everyone can make it to the train in relative peace. Though that means running low on ammo cause not everyone expected a fight.
>>
>>2227169
>>A short period of overwhelming fire on a mob should easily keep them pin down so everyone can make it to the train in relative peace. Though that means running low on ammo cause not everyone expected a fight.
>>
>>2227169
>A short period of overwhelming fire on a mob should easily keep them pin down so everyone can make it to the train in relative peace. Though that means running low on ammo cause not everyone expected a fight.
>>
>>2227169
>A short period of overwhelming fire on a mob should easily keep them pin down so everyone can make it to the train in relative peace. Though that means running low on ammo cause not everyone expected a fight.

Fire superiority, that's what you like! “Holmes!” You call while periodically firing off a semi-accurate shot at the enemy, “When it gets extremely loud, make a run to the train!” You see his mouth move but no words reach you audibly and you motion in reply that you didn't hear, then he just nods his head. To the rest of the team, you gesture to the stone cover near the exit and provide the covering fire for them to move.

No heads pop up means no deaths but it's fine, all is going to plan. You reload while you have the chance, during which you peek out to observe a whole bunch of nothing. Somewhat jarring given their behavior earlier. Oh! Right! They must be deaf because you're shooting indoors, the echoes, combine that with the cracks of bullets whizzing past, no wonder they're not retaliating. For now at any rate.

Wait, wait for it, come on, any second, patience is-, a top of someone's head pops up. The world goes mute the second you pull the trigger, matched by your cohorts timing, your hands shake not from the shot but an inner, meager glee. Holmes leads the 'civilian' party to safety quick as a Greyhound can be under weights. Over at the enemy's end, lead coated in copper puts holes in the rocky walls that fling sizes from the tiniest pebble to huge chunks of material everywhere. Same old, same old. Smell that cloud of nitrocellulose.

The time of *Click**Click* finally occurs. You swap to your last loaded revolver in a hurry and then decide to not use it as of this moment. A quick glance at the exit, Holmes is through the door with everyone not bleeding, which is good enough for you to begin your escape.

Knowing full well the enemy could shoot you in the back at any time, you still make a break for it at full sprint. The action speaks loud and clear and the squad follows right behind. Right at the door, you honorably move out of the way, turn around and provide covering fire and let everyone else through as a proper officer should! You empty all you have before moving through, shutting the wooden door and locking it. If the enemy comes, this won't do crap, but buy a few seconds.

If it does, great. If not, you're in more trouble than you thought. Moving beyond the jagged and unpolished tight emergency corridor, you find the steam train and tender. A somewhat rusty machine uncared for, small, lacking in space for people and for the Queen and country please work. Everyone gets onboard, you and Pixy take the rear, and everyone must be at the front. Deep breath and reload your gun.

You constantly keep watching the corridor, either the train to goes or someone to come out and tries to kill you. The train jerks forward and you hang on as it accelerates to the dark beyond. You're alive as is everyone else.

Cont.
>>
>>2232678

You wipe the sweat from your forehead using your gun hand and sighing, thinking to yourself it should be safe now. You give Pixy a respectful nod and thumbs up for a job well done for all that he's done. In return he gives a weak grin and taps on your shoulder, then stating, “Never a dull time.”

“Say that when we're out of here.” You counter and close up your coat as best you can with several small caliber holes punched through it. Broken ribs, maybe cracked, or both. Do deal with later, as for now, you unwind just a little bit to stay alert.

That comes in handy after three minutes when the train ceases to puff and begins a slow deceleration to a stop in the dark cavern. Neither you or Pixy speak least to bring more misfortune into the equation, just both of you go to the front to check out the problem. You turn on your electric torch and shine some light at the cabin where most of the passengers are cramped together.

“Mr. Browning!” Holmes shouts as his head comes out the operator's window, “We are out of water!”

FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF...

Post five minutes of nonstop running up a slope while in burning pain, your eyes believe there's a shimmer of light at the end of your journey. Is it your life though? Your life of not being in this tunnel, yes! You crash through the wooden barricade and fall on some pavement in some empty brick building missing parts of its roof.

You stumble back on your feet and move to the nearest windows to see the outside when you hear, “Fresh air! And surface!” Peterson moans and collapses to the ground for a second prior to getting back on his feet. “Now, what Boss?”

“Oh, sunlight. How long were we inside that shit bastard cave? Years? Can I say what I said before now, buddy?” Pixy rhetorically asks and pants for air. The others filter out from the shaft, all breathing heavily from the run. In the meantime, you mentally count for everyone in the group and that checks out, now you can say that everyone survived. No further incidents at the present, you muse on the next plan of action.

Cont.
>>
>>2232682

But you can't think clearly, part of it is physical pain in the abdomen, the other is due to you hearing,“Blessed be to God and his Son! I shall never again fail to give thanks for your protection and love. I promise I will go to church every Sunday and I'll visit mother when I get the first chance.” Mr. Gilman goes into prayer along with his surviving servants while you observe the outside world that is a train station eerily quiet. Also, he's kinda too loud.

Thanks to Holmes speaking, Gilman shuts up to listen, “Mister Gilman, just because we're out of the woods does not mean the hounds have stopped their chase. We must seek proper shelter. One that's safe and secret from the mob. Any ideas? Plus, where are we?” You don't see any signs where you are, nor any landmarks.

That's alright though, for the man that made his own escape tunnel knows, “Near... Whitechapel, I think. An' I-”

Holmes, completely expressionless, gives what you were about to say, albeit with more words, “No. Please, don't use any of your hideouts for the high likelihood that you former know would suspect and now have access to your paperwork. Not after all the hard work we've done to let you not get trapped.” Sadly you cannot see the reaction since you moved to the door and scout the area ahead. Looks clear right now so you better get moving somewhere safe and secret.

>Your warehouse should do as a hiding spot. Even though it is part secret and public, you have lots of guns and ammo should a mob cometh. Oh, also a boat too.
>What is a really protected place that's also secluded from the public? The upper-class districts. Your family! Bingo, family visit. You just have... friends...............
>Does Holmes have a place where this bunch can stay temporarily and not get killed?
>... You're done. Done! Pack it up and ditch Gilman's curse. Been a joy but you're paid enough to deal with a mob, a bad boss, you'll have an opinion about Holmes when 'this' isn't happening. Going back to the warehouse. Ah, you need free your prisoners. No, they don't get their weapons back, but you'll tell them that bad happenings have happened then kick them free.
>Write-in. Look for an abandoned building, ask Jackal for a place, etc.
>>
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>>2232690
>>Your warehouse should do as a hiding spot. Even though it is part secret and public, you have lots of guns and ammo should a mob cometh. Oh, also a boat too.
We really need to see to our own injuries, resupply, and maybe rest up a bit before the mob closes in on us.
>>
>>2232690
>Your warehouse should do as a hiding spot. Even though it is part secret and public, you have lots of guns and ammo should a mob cometh. Oh, also a boat too.
>>
>>2232690
>Your warehouse should do as a hiding spot. Even though it is part secret and public, you have lots of guns and ammo should a mob cometh. Oh, also a boat too.
>>
>>2232690
>Your warehouse should do as a hiding spot. Even though it is part secret and public, you have lots of guns and ammo should a mob cometh. Oh, also a boat too.

“People, I know just the place.”



You take a roundabout way to reach back to your venture which conveniently is not too far by walking speed from where the exit led to. A vehicle would have been much preferable but there's no time to hijack one or claim one unseen or to make a phone call as your inner warning system feels something amiss in the streets. Ah, the new deliverers, “Twenty bodies found! Mass serial killings reported! Read all about it!”

The sight of the gate is a warm welcome to your guys as it brings a smile of relief. Holmes gets the whole picture and states the reality, “You own this place.”

Not much more for you to really say other than, “Yes.” Turning to face Gilman and his people, you inform them, “We'll be staying here. Now get inside! Before your friend comes with the mob!” Look! Pixy, Peterson, and Jæger are already making tracks. When everyone regroups inside, you hand out instructions for everybody, mainly Gilman's people that you have in custody be freed and treated like any guest and also that he and his people stay together.

For you members, “Free time for you guys. Stay alert though.”

“See you around, Boss.” Peterson gives a mock salute to you while Jæger does a proper one and they go off to the lunchroom to do their thing.

“I believe I've taken enough of your time Pixy. Thanks for earlier.”

You shake hands with your comrade and feel a piece of parchment left behind as he leaves, “You have my bill. Call in sick for me, would you, Buddy? By the way, I'll be taking a nap here.”

You don't bother reading it since you already know the price tag, “It gets loud here, you know?”

In reply, he points to his ears and shouts, “Eye plugs. A great invention.”

Anyhow, you turn to Holmes and gesture to your office above. “Let's talk in my office. It's quieter there.”

“Yes, we have much to discuss. By the way, nice work environment.”

Cont.
>>
>>2233989

The time is eight forty AM. You've been at first investigating some 'murders' which turn into a gunfight and now you're not really of your next move nor the people that tried to give you lead poisoning. You have a few ideas crawl up, maybe have the police help or rush Gilman from out of the country, or fuck it and turn both sides to the police/execution team. You open the door to your office and wipe your eyes to see if what you're seeing is real.

Smells like coffee and tea, looks like coffee and tea being served by Butler, smells and looks like high tea breakfast, looks like Dorothy, Ange, Charlotte, Beatrice, Chise, your cousin Anne and her friend Napoleon are having a happy time using your work desk as the table. Work paper seems to have been moved over to a safe counter.

No worries! But these guests...

>You have no time to give a proper introduction or to even talk to the girls right now. Work-related stuff, can't talk about it anyway. Get some guns, medicine, and talk in another room downstairs. Actually, you should talk to Gilman anyway. You are dealing with his fate after all.
>... Don't care. Greet the girls, medical self, openly figure out how to deal with Gilman and his feral former friend.
>Speak to Holmes elsewhere, you don't want the family or her Highness to be bothered by your current problems. Oh, mention to the Princess you likely won't tutor her today due to reasons for another day. The boat should do, it's not being serviced right now.
>Write-in.
>You will deal with everything. Everything! As a gentleman should. (Long list of options)
>>
>>2233998
>>... Don't care. Greet the girls, medical self, openly figure out how to deal with Gilman and his feral former friend.
>Also ask if we can get some tea and breakfast too.
Eh, the Princess and her friends are used to this sort of thing by now, Cousin and Napoleon will just have to learn that this is a normal workday for us.
>>
>>2233998
>>... Don't care. Greet the girls, medical self, openly figure out how to deal with Gilman and his feral former friend.
>>
>>2233998
>... Don't care. Greet the girls, medical self, openly figure out how to deal with Gilman and his feral former friend.

“Come on in, Holmes. Go ahead and use that box as a seat.” You indicate to your right then wave to everyone having tea, “Morning everyone else. Oh, Butler, do we have enough tea and foodstuff? Two here and for several more spontaneous guests down below. Former prisoners too! I'll explain later!” Butler finishes pouring a cup for one of the girls when you add after a few quick glances at the room, “I can help myself to tea.”

“Then I shall get the preparations ready.” The good man makes his way out and you go and start boiling a fresh pot.

“You seem to be in a rush, Mr. Browning.” Charlotte states as she waves to Holmes.

“I am. Adrenaline does that to the human body.” Hm, your coat has holes, what should you do? Keep it! Losing that garment, you then show off to the uninitiated that you have a lot of holsters strapped to you. They are a bit surprised.

“Busy morning?” Ange asks and sips her tea. Smells like Darjeeling, it'll do.

“Cousin,” Anne begins, “Is now a good time to ask what you're doing?”

Eh, you did promise her and you don't really care if the Princess and her friends know. Speak and act, you can multitask. “I'll start at the beginning.” Moving to your gun table, you begin the easy process of emptying the fired brass from your revolvers into a bucket. “Yesterday night I found a job ad that was interesting. It was about the twenty bodies found yesterday. Went to the police, went to one of their morgues and had myself a look at a few bodies. Then I thought to take a look at two nearby locations where they were found.” Holmes kindly returns the pistol he borrowed as you keep going, “I got something thrown at me at the second location. Cousin, you saw how that ended. Foot chase, then car chase, then capturing some people. Anyway, interrogated some captives that led me to an underground place where I met Mister Holmes and the boss. I had the foresight of being armed and bringing a few men, but I did not anticipate an armed mob coming in force.” The kettle whistles and you go tend to it.

In the meantime, Holmes continues where you left off, “It was a big group, more than thirty, though that number had decreased after an exchange of gunfire. But we a fierce escaped from a secret passage and live to tell the tale! And that happened in the last two hours. No person under our guide lost their life and no injuries were taken.”

Incorrect. “No.”

“No?”

Cont.
>>
>>2235209

You finish the tea preparations and let it cool just as you go over to your bed and start to undress your upper body, “I got shot.”

“You got shot?” Holmes reiterates.

“You got shot!?” Your cousin and Charlotte say in unison before getting a look with most of the other girls at you take off both your shirt and undershirt.

You're most interested in finding the lead pieces and you succeed. The warm lead sticks to the thick silk material, but it cedes eventually with enough force. Feeling it up and counting the pellets, you guess it was fired from a twenty gauge of an anemic twelve gauge. Ah, you need another set of clothes and silk shirt. As for your skin, nothing but red bruises decently spread out. Yeah, likely only cracked ribs. “I wager it was from a twenty gauge and I have a few cracked ribs, possible only one.”

“You're certainly calm about this. Need me to call a doctor?” Holmes offers and you shake your head no.

“Nah, maybe after we finish up our business.” Picking the right cabinet, you get your first-aid box and do a little bandaging, ointment rubbing, and morphine injection.

“You have bad luck with shotguns.” Ange comments and you recall the event before she fucking pointed a gun at you. What a bitch.

Now, you get a fresh shirt to put on and move the talk forward, “Well, onto the main point and discussion. There's a hellbent revenge seeking mob after an not so innocent man, who we have, and we need to do something about it.”

The consulting nods and helps himself to tea, saying, “I agree. What are our options?”

“... I was hoping you had an idea. Open question for everyone!” You complete your horrible first-aid and lie on your bed.

You could kill both parties, that's always an option. One side forfeited it when they shot at you, the other is a failure of a boss. But, there are other options. Let Gilman escape to another country and spread word that he did, maybe the people disperse or change their actions to be less loud. Somewhere not Europe, the Americas can do. Oh, but he'd have to pay. What else? Feed him to the mob, he dies, mob goes away. Eh, nothing of value is lost. Lie to the mob that he escaped to the Commonwealth, assassinate his friend, let him continue doing matches. Could work out. Somehow get the police in on it, not get them killed, and arrest both parties, one for basically vigilantism, murder, attempted murder, oh the mob did some bad things; and Gilman is arrest for illegal gambling and probably some other things.

Cont.
>>
>>2235212

You should also factor in how the other would feel, mainly her Highness since you'll be dealing with her constantly. But the others like your cousin Anne, oh great, more factors to consider. You did give them most of the story, minus some details. No matter, they'll see the conclusion or infer it somehow. “Holmes, got any ideas?”

“Some, you?”

“Yeah.”

“Go ahead and say them.”

The not so nice option first, “Eliminate both parties, call it a gang war.”

“You can't-” Anne starts to say her piece but stops herself.

You understand once you hear her Highness's voice, “Browning.”

“Princess.”

“Please don't do that.” You figure that by most people wouldn't anyway.

Your next idea, “Extract the man we have to another country and then decide whether to inform the mob the truth or not.”

“Siding with the criminal?” Holmes asks before someone else says it.

“No, that's assuming he could pay the fare. Also, it'll get the man out of here and hopefully either the other people will calm down and disperse or at least not be so loud in public. New idea: let the dogs eat, hand the man to the mob.”

“After all we been through keeping him alive?”

“Just an idea. The hard option I see is getting the police involved and making sure they don't die when we arrest both parties for their bullshit.”

“If it's you, I'm sure there's a way.” Dorothy points out her opinion to silent agreeing nods by Ange and Charlotte.

“Not impossible, Browning. All we need is a plan.” Holmes is okay with the idea as well. Hell, you may as well say that most people would see two bad people be arrested.

>Fine! Fine! Both will get arrested and get due process. One is already in custody. For the gang, well, you'll need something to catch them. Assume Holmes will plan cause you're tapped out.
>First of all, you probably should ask what assets Gilman is willing to offer you for making sure his time on Earth is extended.
>It would just be easier if you fucking killed the main parties involved, the friend and the boss. Fuck both sides. Oh, that might actually work and less bloody than mowing the entire mob down.
>Write-in.
>>
>>2235217
>Fine! Fine! Both will get arrested and get due process. One is already in custody. For the gang, well, you'll need something to catch them. Assume Holmes will plan cause you're tapped out.
>>
>>2235217
>>Fine! Fine! Both will get arrested and get due process. One is already in custody. For the gang, well, you'll need something to catch them. Assume Holmes will plan cause you're tapped out.
>>
>>2235217
>>Fine! Fine! Both will get arrested and get due process. One is already in custody. For the gang, well, you'll need something to catch them. Assume Holmes will plan cause you're tapped out.
>>
>>2235217
>Fine! Fine! Both will get arrested and get due process. One is already in custody. For the gang, well, you'll need something to catch them. Assume Holmes will plan cause you're tapped out.

“Detective, you have a plan on capturing the mob?” You assume he does as you really don't want to deal with coming up a capture mission.

“I have one in the making.” Sounds fantastic. “Oh, may I ask a few questions?”

“Go ahead.” You reply all emotionless and being taking your boots off.

“Do you have explosives of the low yield sort?”

“Yes, there's black powder stocked here.” Boots are of now, no foul smell from your feet.

“We can use a few pounds of it and destroy the two other escape routes and funnel them out to the large surface entrance where we will capture them through sheer force of numbers.”

“Sounds great.” You wrap yourself in your linen bed sheet and lie your head on the pillow for the first time in a while.

“We'll need an intimidation factor-”

You answer instantly with, “Gatling gun. I think I have one in storage. Better not shoot it though.”

“Perfect. Now, I require a phone-”

“Over there. On the counter.”

“My heartfelt thanks, good man. We just need to time the explosions correctly, get the police in place and have the jail wagons ready.”

“Mh.” You retort and stay in bed.

A moment of silence and the feeling of being looked upon comes to you. “Cousin, are you going to sleep?”

“No, just waiting.” For Butler.

Cont.
>>
>>2236238

As if on cue the older gentleman comes in bearing gifts of savory foods. “Breakfast, dear guests.”

If only you felt hungry as it smells wonderful. Toast and a gravy smell. But work must go on. “Butler, I need a truck ready for departure, two hundred pounds of black powder loaded in twenty-five pound, and do we have a Gatling gun available for show purposes?”

“I believe it's in working condition but we don't have a large supply of the caliber.” Bah, it's an outdated design anyway.

“It'll do then.” Butler hands you a cup of piping clam chowder, very considerate, “Much oblige.”

“Why aren't you using TNT?” The first words Napoleon says to you.

“Too strong.”
“Too powerful.”

You and Holmes answer the question roughly at the same time together. You then continue explaining, “One must be mindful of doing some adjustments to the local terrain, doubly so when it's underground.”

“The dangers of cave-ins and trapped beneath mother earth is a most unpleasant experience.”

The real reason though, “I don't have any in stock actually.”

“You don't have the licenses I see.” And you don't really have a safe storage spot for them anyway.

You sip on your hot soup when her Highness shouts, “Let me come!”

>Apathy leads the way. Sure, let her learn stuff because you're a tutor, therefore, you teach!
>>Take her to the negotiations part where you surround the mob and make them give up.
>>Teach her the joys of blowing shit up.
>>Teach her to blow shit up and how to negotiate with criminals through superiority.
>“No.” You don't want to worry about her during your whole stop the criminals stuff. There's the chance something goes wrong, like any other time that happened, and you can't help her.
>>
>>2236240
>>Teach her to blow shit up and how to negotiate with criminals through superiority.
>>
>>2236240
>>Teach her to blow shit up and how to negotiate with criminals through superiority.
>>
>>2236240
>>>Teach her to blow shit up and how to negotiate with criminals through superiority.




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