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Chapter 3 - Chapter 2. The robbery of the century.

Chapter 2. The robbery of the century.

 

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

 From the instructions of an experienced scoundrel.

 

 Morning paints with a gentle light... somewhere and for someone. And the hiding place of a criminal element, which I now have the honor of being, somehow does not have such a thing as windows, alas. Nevertheless, another folk wisdom still worked. The morning was no wiser than the evening, but with a fresh head it was better to think. It was a little upsetting that this evening I would go with a crowd of "bulls" to a case from which I wanted to stay as far away as possible, but I could do nothing about it. But with a stomach that produces roulades, in which yesterday only a couple of spoons of ice cream and cigarette smoke visited - quite. In addition ... the nose caught the aroma of coffee. Coffee cannot brew itself. So someone brewed it! Deduction worthy of Holmes, yeah. Nevertheless, the aromas in the air made me finally open my eyes and go wash up, and after all the necessary procedures - trudge to the kitchen. Where I fell into a stupor from the picture that opened up.

 

 Neo. Neo in an apron. Neo in an apron is finishing frying bacon. And on the table there are already cups of black coffee for Roman and... of course, coffee with ice cream for the girl. Several things at once caused my stupor. First, I, the time traveler, could not combine in my head the images of the "silent killer" and this cute creature in an apron. Second, Roman also had trouble doing it. No, Neopolitan was still brewing coffee, but as for cooking, even something simple... every time she looked at Torchwick with confusion and helplessness, he only sighed, put his cane aside and stood behind the stove. Or they went to a cafe.

 

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

 

 – (>‸>)… – she pouted demonstratively, like "I'm trying here for you, and he still has the audacity to express his fu!"

 

 - Am I against it? But now you won't be able to pretend to be helpless and throw up your hands, which means you can reconsider the list of household chores... By the way, what's the occasion?

 

 – (–_-), – "then do good to people after this." – (Х_х), (>_<), (^_^)!

 

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

 

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

 

 - Thank you, Neo, you are a miracle!

 

 – (<_<")'… – now she was a little embarrassed and even turned pink. Damn, Roman is an idiot. What level of disdain does a person have to have for the simplest compliment to cause such a reaction? And how did Neo not leave him… I don't understand. Or is this from the series "love is blind", you can fall in love with a goat… ahem, Torchwick?

 

 - Mnyam, - under a suspicious look I tried the provided bacon and eggs. And not bad, not bad at all. - How did the negotiations with Junior go? Was he impressed by your eloquence?

 

 – (-_-)… – yes, yes, this joke is as old as the world, but it would be strange if I didn't say something like that. However, in addition to her demonstratively pouting face, the girl showed her spread palm.

 

 - Five thugs? Not bad - there will be someone to put between me and "Little Red Riding Hood", pardon, Little Red Riding Hood. - And how is your walk, everything okay?

 

 - (g_g)… - another eye roll.

 

 - Yes, I'm worried. It's not every day we get involved in such a foul-smelling endeavor, you know.

 

 – (^_^).

 

 At this point our extremely meaningful conversation came to an end, and we started eating, and a little later I was the only one washing the dishes. What can you do, the law that if one cooks, the other washes the dishes was imposed with the iron hand of Torchwick himself (though it looked like a message of "I cooked, you wash, otherwise - no ice cream!"), and it would be unpedagogical to cancel it. And I also needed something to do with my hands. But these dishes did not last long.

 

 Time dragged on, painfully slow and sad. Neo showed no concern and just climbed onto the couch with a book, and I felt like I had my first date, an exam, a job interview, and a brain tumor operation tonight. All at once. So I had to do something to keep from running around on the ceiling. And then I saw a cane-baton-rifle. And I thought it might be a good idea to take care of the weapon and make sure all the mechanisms were in good condition. Gods, Demons, Dragons, and the Holy Spaghetti Monster, how wrong I was!

 

 No, at first everything was fine, I secured the weapon on the workbench, my hands started to do all the necessary procedures on their own - unload here, unscrew here, disassemble and clean, lubricate here... and then I started to "actively use my brain", so to speak. And the first thing that happened was that my knowledge of physics and strength of materials began to curse the entire structure. The instinct for self-preservation nodded in agreement. What "delighted" me so much in the design? Well, let's start with the materials. The thin-walled polymer tube with a plug at the bottom was: a - light, b - flexible. I could easily bend it with a deviation of thirty degrees from each end, that is, almost bend it into an arc. Without much stress and effort. But that's okay, the baton doesn't necessarily have to pretend to be reinforcement, why shouldn't it bend a little? And the strength of the Aura user exceeds what an ordinary person can give out. Lightness is also not a big inconvenience, although a light crushing weapon makes something itch in the brain, but the increased strength of the user compensates for the inconvenience. The problem was that this "tube", YOUR MOTHER, WAS THE BARREL OF A MINI-GRENADE LAUNCHER!!! Which bent. But it was not this that terrified me. It was everything connected with shooting from this "miracle".

 

 Let's leave aside the awkward-to-shoot handle or the lack of a normal sight (a folding sight-plug with a "cross" is a mockery, not a sight) - these are all minor details, but the way this "miracle" was loaded was simply chilling: reloading had to be done in "factory conditions" by disassembling half of the body, in extreme cases, according to the principle of a muzzle-loading musket. Although I was ready to put up with this, and now let's move on to "plunging into horror". "Clip" of a cane. The entire ammunition was placed in the tube-barrel itself. According to the principle of Chinese fireworks. That's it. Curtain.

 

 Okay, let's say the trigger is controlled by "pressing" the aura, but... Cthulhu the All-Good, all the ammunition here is dust, even in a shell! From the same Dust, which is not much more stable than nitroglycerin without a thickener! And he hits people on the head with this "tube", "filled" to the very neck with this substance! Lord, how miraculously has it not exploded in his hands yet?! Is the Aura really capable of strengthening such techno-heresy and making it work? It turned out that it is. Moreover, the locals did not see anything strange in this at all. A sophisticated and combined weapon with the most complex mechanics, which under combat loads should jam only on the way, works better than a Swiss watch. Okay. Good. Let's not meddle in someone else's monastery with our own charter. It worked somehow before, didn't it? So it should continue to work... in the worst case, Aura is able to protect even if this thing explodes in my hands. But I swear, at the first opportunity I will get rid of this horror! And in general, I now have a Manifestation that will allow me to carry a small arsenal with me! And I need to think about how to get rid of the dust ammunition! It is clear that I will not make a Kalashnikov assault rifle and the notorious intermediate cartridge here. At least for the simple reason that I have no idea how the said machine gun is designed and what kind of magic is in this intermediate cartridge that every time traveler almost necessarily invents it. Yes, Gods, I don't even know the composition of gunpowder! Well, sulfur, well, saltpeter, well, coal. And what kind of saltpeter? What kind of coal? In what proportions? How to cook? And that's not to mention that this recipe is for primitive black powder, which isn't that useful, and the modern one for the same intermediate cartridge is made from cellulose and with the help of some acid... I think. And that's all I know about modern firearms.

 

 - Fuck, - with the last of my self-control I put my "wonder weapon" back together, - just fuck, - I spent the remaining time before the operation, mindlessly poking at the Scroll - the local analogue of a smartphone, only it works on some shamanic principle, not connected with radio communication, although there are repeater towers in the world. As many as four of them - one per continent, yeah.

 

 In the evening, having said goodbye to Neo, who had gone on the job, I myself headed to the designated meeting place.

 

 – Gentlemen, – I raise my fedora in greeting, Torchwick's hats are really chic, – I suppose it's time for our little promenade, – the "bulls" provided by Junior nodded solemnly, trying to show their coolness and professionalism, after all, they were hired by none other than Roman, motherfucker Torchwick himself. You have to keep up appearances. And I look at these "geniuses" who showed up in club jackets and sunglasses... in the gathering twilight, yeah... well, I look at them - and for some reason I want to either laugh hysterically, or cry just as hysterically. Okay, it won't attract attention to itself. Cane in hand (not to think about the fact that it's filled with unstable explosives!), an expression on your face like "you're shit, I'm D'Artagnan", well... let's go!

 

 And so, surrounded by these... just these, I leisurely walk towards a small shop with Dust, located relatively close to Beacon. Random passers-by timidly press against the walls, someone must have already called the cops. Eh... let's go in. I bet the owner has already pressed the panic button. I, standing in front of him with a sad look, began to declare that "everyone stop, this is a robbery! But no, we won't take the money, but we will scoop up all the Dust." Why did I look sad? Well, it was somehow sad for me to pretend to be a "spherical villain in a vacuum", besides, in the far corner I had already noticed a short figure in a scarlet hood, to whom one of the thugs was approaching. An inner voice was counting down: five, four, three left until the end... Here the baboon abruptly turns around an innocent girl in headphones, studying gun magazines... two... Here she takes off her headphones and learns about the robbery... one... Here he reaches out to her, and...

 

 "Well, here we go," I thought, watching the body flying across the entire trading floor. The body of a baboon, naturally.

 

 - Well... - I knew it would be like this, but my soul still felt sad.

 

 I'm already pressing my "panic button" - as already mentioned, the original plan was to divert attention from the Beacon Academy Ash staging area, as a result of which I had to make noise from the "opposite" side of the action, risking running into a looooot of angry Aura users led by the mentors of this educational institution. And since the matter was important, the matter was symbolic, the matter was a natural beginning of a much more global operation and also, as I suspected, was supposed to show someone (White Fang, most likely) the luck of the new partner and his ability to select personnel, Cinder herself volunteered to cover me. I hope that now everything will also go "canonically", otherwise I will have to expose my Semblance, which I would really like to avoid.

 

 While I was deep in gloomy thoughts, the characters migrated to the street, where a cute little girl began to beautifully throw around the thugs with the help of... (Yes, oh my eyes! Reality was not merciful to you, and the cartoon canon was repeated exactly) a huge folding scythe-rifle-carbine. And she did it surprisingly deftly. And the fact that the weapon was twice as big as she was did not bother the cute person. By the way, she really is cute, graceful figure, silver eyes, and about the same size as Neo, though she is only fifteen, but this disadvantage will quickly pass... A-a-a, what am I thinking about?! She is now turning in my direction and looking at me in a very unpleasant way. And the scythe blade stuck in the asphalt, going about fifty centimeters into the ground, and this pose certainly don't bode well. And where is Cinder with her bird? I'll almost be glad to see her. So, we need to stall for time! Oh! I've got an idea!

 

 - Hey, hey, you could have just said that you've already filled this little shop for yourself, why react so nervously right away? We, representatives of the Dark Side, must stick together and respect each other!

 

 - Em? - and with such an innocent bat-bat of eyes, I would have called her a cutie, if not for the threat of my neck getting too close to her agricultural implement. - I'm not a villain! You're the criminal!

 

 - Mmm, a scary scarlet robe, black tones in clothes, a cemetery theme with crosses, - I impolitely pointed my finger towards a pair of silver crosses that held the girl's cape, - a huge and creepy braid, as if you were Death itself... I bet you're on the side of the Cookies!

 

 - Uh-huh? - She blinked again in confusion. - Well, yeah, I like cookies, but what does this have to do with it?

 

 - You see! And Cookies are a Dark Side theme. The Light only has unlimited coffee and an unhealthy desire to involve teenagers in adult showdowns. Hmm... maybe also a love for innocent Maidens, heh-heh. Ozpin will confirm, - well, yes, I was carried away, and what civilian yesterday wouldn't be carried away in such a situation?

 

 - W-what? - I think I've overloaded her a little.

 

 - It doesn't matter, let's just pretend we didn't see each other and go about our business? - Cinder, where the hell are you?!

 

 - A-a-a-a... Don't talk nonsense into me! I won't let you get away! - the girl grabbed her weapon more comfortably, and...

 

 - Ha! - I fired about half a clip in the direction of this little chick. Yes, yes, with a Battle Cry, who said anything about a hysterical squeal?

 

 I didn't believe that this shelling would harm Miss Rose in the slightest, but a thin squeak coming from my Scroll indicated that Cinder had finally deigned to lift her beautiful ass and come to pull mine out. So the purpose of the "shelling" was, first of all, to create enough dust for the girl to lose sight of me. So, impolitely leaving the lady, I began to urgently pack up my fishing rods and rushed to the fire escape on the nearest building - Fall was supposed to arrive on a bullhead and it would be much easier for her to pick me up from the roof than from the ground. I hoped that Glinda wouldn't let me down either, otherwise I'd have to explain to the evil bitch why the hell I ran away from a fifteen-year-old brat, and even called her for evacuation.

 

 *Boom!* - a heavy bullet hit that knocked out a piece of plaster, happened too close, in my opinion, to my head, instantly cleared the said head, and gave my legs and arms additional acceleration - I literally flew up the stairs. It's good that the shooter from Ruby is not very... well, or maybe I was just lucky, and she hasn't coughed from the dust yet/knocked off the aim/stood awkwardly, underline as appropriate. But I completely forgot that the girl has a Manifestation - as soon as I got out on the roof, a familiar figure in a familiar robe wove itself from a stream of rose petals behind me.

 

 - You won't leave so easily!

 

 - Sorry, baby, I really liked you too, but you need to grow up some more! Just be patient for a couple of years! - Gods, what the hell am I saying?! What the hell am I saying?

 

 - Argh! - a soft blow between the shoulder blades made it clear that the girl was upset by my words and decided to convey this upset to me with the help of her large-caliber argument. Be that as it may, my Aura was enough to dampen the blow, and the unexpected acceleration allowed me to find myself in the bowels of the ship even faster.

 

 "Let's get out of here!" I barked, flying into the pilot's cabin.

 

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

 

 *Shruh!* - the ship shook, and the "windshield" was shattered by icy shrapnel - Glinda finally reached the scene of events and greeted us warmly.

 

 "Hold the steering wheel," the lady jumped out of the pilot's seat, I barely managed to grab the lever, and I remembered that I didn't know how to control this thing only when the ship began to taxi away from the building, but… froze in an invisible grip.

 

 *Boom! Boom!* Ruby continued to do good and cause justice.

 

 - Damn it, Hoodie! You scratched my paint! - I yelled back, frantically tugging at the steering wheel and switching some other levers and buttons. Something about regulating thrust and power flashed through my mind, but somehow in passing. I was much more concerned with the fact that the Good Witch's damn telekinesis was slo-o-o-owly but steadily pushing us toward the ground, although the engines were straining at full power.

 

 But here Cinder came into play, not bothering to bother and simply incinerating all the shells Ruby sent at us with a barrage of fire, and then directing this barrage at our pursuers. Glinda had to switch her attention to fire protection and we safely got away. I admit, a crazy thought flashed through my mind to try to throw Fall out of the transport, but as quickly as it came, it disappeared. I was not sure that I would succeed at all, and also that Glinda alone would be enough for this half-Maiden. In the event of the survival of the beautiful brunette, one red-haired smart guy would be in for a complete and utter tsugunder. Alas, I have never been a hero and cowardly decided not to risk my skin, no matter how low it may sound. My thoughts were interrupted by the appearance of the "thought-about" beauty, who plopped down on the neighboring seat.

 

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

 

 "Roman," she closed her eyes in irritation, "just take this bullhead to the base. Silently."

 

 "Okay, you're the boss here," I shrug.

 

 - Exactly. And I don't intend to jeopardize the whole plan any more, saving your skin, - the girl's irritation was growing, and I should have shut up and not show myself, but then it was as if some demon had possessed me. Or maybe the withdrawal had hit me...

 

 - Well, excuse me, Your Excellency, you ordered to steal almost all the Ashes in this wonderful city, and although I am a master of my craft, it is somewhat problematic to do it together. Local idiots are of little use, you know, - the answer turned out to be quite poisonous.

 

 - Oh, so all that separates you from success is the lack of extra hands? - the witch smiled deceptively softly. - Well, I think I can help you with this issue... and introduce you to some people.

 

 "And why do I feel like I'm going to dislike this 'someone'?" The question was rhetorical, and therefore there was no answer. Surely Cinder's meaningful smile couldn't be considered as such?

 

 Half an hour into the flight, having landed at an unremarkable warehouse (thanks to the shitty air defense for our unpunished childhood), we had the honor of observing a contented Neo eating ice cream... leaning her back against a nice truck with an even nicer trailer. I bet it's filled to the brim with the substance we need.

 

 - How did it go?

 

 – (^__^)!

 

 "That's great," I open the back wall of the trailer and admire the neat rows of boxes with a familiar snowflake print. "Yeah, that's very good!"

 

 Our respected "employer" also showed curiosity.

 

 "Well, it looks like you really are useful," Cinder nodded to herself. "Transport the cargo to one of the warehouses in the city. In three days, my... man will contact you to help with the workforce."

 

 At this point the illustrious lady left our company without bothering to say goodbye.

 

 - Well... - I really wanted to just spit, or even better - grab Neo and run away, maybe scribbling a few lines to Ozpin as a farewell. If only this really was the way out... eh.

 

 - (O_o)? - They tugged at my sleeve and looked into my eyes with concern.

 

 - I'm fine, Neo, - I sigh, - I'm just tired. And the promise of "labor hands" from our employer certainly doesn't lead to anything good. Hmm... - I glanced at the truck. In general, a couple of thoughts appeared in my mind, but they were very vague. - Do you think that if a couple of boxes of this magnificence accidentally get lost somewhere, no one will be upset, will they?

 

 - (^______^), - furious nods. Yes, this cutie understood the principle of "someone else's, freebie, take-take" perfectly.

 

 - That's what I think too - it was very easy to remove a box of each type of Dust using Manifestation, and judging by the feeling of "fullness" that came through, I could have hidden the entire truck like that, although I would have had to try hard, of course.

 

 - (O_o)???

 

 - Hm? Didn't I tell you? Teleportation isn't the main property of my Semblance, heh-heh.

 

 – (o_o)… – half a minute of thought, but then her gaze fills with Understanding and… Greed. – (*_*)!

 

 - No, Neo, I will not be your personal mobile ice cream warehouse!

 

 - (T‸T)... - Damn, how did she know about this "cat eyes from Shrek" trick? There was no such cartoon here!

 

 - N-no...

 

 – (Q_Q)?…

 

 - Neo, stop it!

 

 – (Q‸Q)''…

 

 "O-okay," I closed my eyes, "but only within reason!"

 

 – =(^__^)=! – and they hung on me, happily swinging their legs in the air. The hands somehow, by themselves, against their will, grabbed the girl under the waist. More precisely, one hand. The second lay a little lower, where the waist is called something else. And squeezed a little. – (O_O)…

 

 - To hell with it all! - I was almost hacked to death today, almost thrown off a roof, shot (albeit without damage, thanks to Aura), almost chopped up with ice arrows and smashed on the roof while piloting a local fighter-helicopter. The fact that I managed to bring this crap back to the base is a separate point. In short, it was all a bit too much! The stress needed an outlet, and the damn beautiful girl hanging on me was the last straw. The kiss was harsh, rough. Neo, in cultural shock, opened her mouth in surprise... which I also took advantage of. However, her surprise did not last long. Ten seconds - and they began to respond to me. Ineptly, but with great enthusiasm, and the legs hanging in the air were already crossing behind my back, pressing the girl even tighter.

 

 But the lack of experience still had an effect - the beauty with multi-colored eyes soon ran out of air, and we had to break off for technical reasons. Besides, even though it was incredibly pleasant, and the body would clearly not mind continuing and deepening, and Neo was clearly all for it, but... firstly, the truck still needed to be driven away, secondly, as sad as it is, but these feelings were directed at the former Roman, not me, and it would be wrong to use them. I am still not such a bastard as Torchwick version 1.0.

 

 - Perhaps... we need to move the car...

 

 – (">_>)… – the pink-faced girl looked away, however, she was in no hurry to unclench her legs or arms.

 

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

 

 – (–_–)*, – she rolled her eyes. – (^_^), – and reached for the next kiss.

 

 - It's... unfair, - the next five minutes passed very pleasantly, even if it didn't go further than kissing, but still. Conscience only gnawed, but with each moment that I had the pleasure of seeing happy Neo, it was able to gnaw weaker and weaker. But then the ice cream began to melt, and I was treacherously abandoned. Hmm... disappointment and relief at the same time - this is a very, very strange mixture of feelings.

 

 Then everything just sort of started spinning by itself - chase her away, hide, make sure no one was on her tail, and so on, in short, we returned home, having already hushed up the awkward scene well... That's what it seemed to me exactly until the moment when Neo started looking at me strangely and clearly fidgeting in some kind of uncertainty. But in a normal situation, if you believe Roman's memory, a minute after coming home from work she would either splash in the shower, or bury herself in the Scroll, playing some fighting game, or at least watch TV, looking for news about the deed she had just done. Now... there were no prerequisites for that, but there were looks and uncertainty...

 

 - Maybe... let's go to Junior's? - I also felt a little awkward. - I really need a drink! - I say more positively, trying to imitate Roman's selfish manner.

 

 – (-_-)… – the offer was clearly not what she was expecting, but… – (^_^)! – leaning forward a little, Neo kissed me carefully and smiled tenderly.

 

 – Are you hinting at my teenage indecisiveness now?

 

 – (>‸>)… – her demonstratively puffed-up face raised the mood a little more.

 

 - Well, I'm sorry! You can't just suddenly become sensitive and wonderful when you've been an asshole your whole life! In my defense, I'm ready to buy you some ice cream on the way, okay?

 

 – (=^__^=)!

 

 - Just don't go overboard! We won't steal any six-ton freezers!

 

 – (>_>)… (*_*)!

 

 - What do you mean, you'll only agree to a three-ton one? I don't bargain! Maximum...

 

 – (Q‸Q)''…

 

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

 

 - (^_____^)!

 

 - That won't do! We're going to have a drink, not rob an ice cream wholesale warehouse! Besides, you explained to me yourself that you can't rob ice cream shops, because then they lose profit, and because of that they have a bad habit of closing down! Where will you get your favorite ice cream then?! So the minimum set, about one and a half kilograms - no more! We also need to make sure that it won't melt in my pocket, if anything.

 

 – (<‸<)… – the girl playfully pouted, but it was clear that she accepted the arguments.

 

 Anyway, soon we headed to Junior's to wet our throats and at the same time say a few "fie" words about the blockheads he had handed over that the police had already arrested.

 

 A little later. Streets of Vail.

 – (<_<)… (>_>)… (v_v)?..

 

 - M-y-e-e-s, - after a minute of looking at the broken windows, doors and the general picture of a notable pogrom, I gave my conclusion. - It seems our friend is in trouble. Well, okay, let's go and take a look.

 

 Inside, we found an even bigger mess than outside. The modern light fixtures were smashed to pieces, the DJ booth was in tatters, and the dance floor had simply ceased to exist, as if a pair of Urs, the local Grimm bears, had sparred on it. The owner sat in front of what was left of the bar, holding what looked like the last remaining glass in the place, and watched grimly as one of the Malakyte twins (Roman never bothered to tell which one was Melanie and which was Milshaiades) filled his whiskey. He had an ice pack pressed to his head with his other hand. Another was in his groin area.

 

 - (O_o)…

 

 - I totally agree with you, Neo, someone definitely had a great evening.

 

 "Oh, the last thing we need here is you," groaned a two-meter tall man with the nickname "Small"... some people in the criminal world have no imagination at all.

 

 – Is this how you greet old friends, Hey?

 

 - Roman, go to hell! I feel bad without your sense of humor! What are you here for?

 

 - Well, you're clearly not in the mood, - I lean against the counter, and my sister in the scarlet dress throws a glass of bourbon at me; apparently, the owner of the establishment was holding more than one piece of undamaged glassware in his hands. - And I just came in for a drink. Today was a stressful day, - I draw a circle with my hand, in which a lit cigar somehow already appeared, as if showing the volume of this "stress". - Well, there are world conspiracies, fatal beauties and all that stuff.

 

 "Oh, don't talk about fatal beauties," the man clearly felt sad.

 

 - Tell me who did this to you and why, - I had my suspicions, of course, but that episode was just a trailer, and it wasn't really tied to the time, so I wasn't completely sure. And if "in our friendly ranks" there was a troublemaker, we'd have to have an "educational talk."

 

 After all, who is Junior? Junior is not just a bar owner, he is a kind of middleman, information broker and holder of "neutral territory" all rolled into one. He never butted in, but his bar was a place where "respectable people" who had certain disagreements among themselves that could lead to the formation of corpses when said "respectable people" met, could calmly sit down at a table and discuss the misunderstanding that had arisen over a glass or two of good booze. And most importantly, they were confident that they would be able to leave the bar on their own two feet and that a regiment of their competitor's "friends" would not be waiting for them here. Here you could also buy or sell some information, hire people for a couple of one-off operations, though not very competent, but what can you do - this is not Junior's profile, he generally acts more as a middleman here. Well, and just have a good time, of course. And therefore, by common agreement, it was forbidden to touch Hay or even offer him "protection". What's more, the cops didn't even shake him down or present him with anything, after all, "gentlemen's agreements" in a world full of man-eating demons were sacredly observed. No one needed any extra negativity. Mr. Xiong, by the way, also understood his place perfectly well, and therefore he sacredly observed neutrality, didn't interfere or dig in. That's why he had been happily in business for over twenty years.

 

 - Ah, - he waved his hand. - A chick showed up. A gorgeous blonde. Not local, looking for information on some woman. And drinks, of course. Only I doubted that I could pour her any, and you know the rules - yes, the cops didn't touch Junior, among other reasons, because you couldn't find minors with a glass, drugs or underage whores in his establishment.

 

 - Let me guess, you sent her on all counts?

 

 "She didn't say who she knew about me from," Junior took a sip from his glass. "And anyway, it all looked very much like a setup, even if it's not customary, but there's a first time for everything. Although calling her petty probably wasn't worth it. The girl was offended," he winced and adjusted the ice in his groin area. "A death grip..."

 

 - Oh...

 

 "Uh-huh," Hay winced and glanced sideways at me, "I'd say these are familiar tricks…"

 

 - But-but, I never grabbed men for anything! - I even got indignant.

 

 - You don't, but Neopolitan... Although yes, there's just a blade attached to it.

 

 - Yeah... - I couldn't help but feel a chill. - The huntresses are scary-e-e-e. But we got distracted, what happened next?

 

 - Nothing, - my interlocutor winced again and sighed heavily, - I really don't know anything about the woman she's interested in, if she showed up in Vale, it was either a long time ago or she didn't attract any attention to herself. Well, after that blonde's actions, the guards and sisters started pestering her...

 

 - Painted bitch! - an angry female hiss in two completely synchronous and almost indistinguishable voices testified to the fact that our conversation was being listened to attentively, however, this did not stop the twins from chatting about something with Neo... hmm. As much as this is possible in relation to Neo, of course.

 

 - In short, she scattered everyone, spoiled the atmosphere, but did not go far beyond the limits of the fun of the celebrating team of Hunters. There are no corpses, so there are no special claims against her either. But now she is banned from entering here, - after thinking for a while, Junior continued, - at least until she pays for the repairs.

 

 - And here I thought I was having a bad day, - strangely, his mood actually improved, judging by the sad look of the thug, he was once again convinced that joy appears in Roman's heart when something nasty happens somewhere. Okay, I should cheer him up. - Let me at least see who beat you up like that.

 

 - Here, look, - the bartender put the almost empty glass on the counter and pulled out his Scroll. A couple of touches of the screen - and a freeze frame from one of the hall's cameras appears on it. - Here.

 

 - Wow…

 

 No, I understood that in a series made in almost the most primitive 3D Max with change from breakfast during a smoke break, they would hardly be able to display the character's appearance at least somewhat reliably, even after increasing the budget and improving the graphics, everything there was far from ideal, but to what extent, I realized only now. The same Hood, of course, was damn cute, but I did not pay special attention to her appearance - my gaze was much more occupied by the battle scythe in her hands directed in my direction, right there ... M-m-m, she looks about nineteen or twenty years old, tall, soft and attractive facial features, gorgeous purple eyes, a mischievous grin on her lips, and as for the shock of thick golden hair down to her toned butt ... and in general, the whole figure, including the top three or almost four, was beyond all praise. I remember saying that this world is full of beautiful women? Yes, that's true, but even against their background, Yang Xiao Long looked like a top model. All that's left to do is drool... or is that all? Okay, I'll sweeten the deal a little for Junior and spoil the image of one feathered ass.

 

 - And the niece of our alcoholic friend with a scythe has grown up so well...

 

 - An alcoholic with a scythe? Crow... - Hey grabbed his head. - Of course, who else could have such fucked up relatives?! That explains why she was reluctant to say who she came from - he owes me half a thousand lien.

 

 The Hunter community is very small, everyone knows each other, if not personally. And Hunters who have exchanged forty and are close to fifth, and there are very few at all. The specifics of the work, some get maimed, some just say "I've had enough", many go to the next world. So an active Hunter, who has access to the office and to Ozpin, may well be on everyone's lips. But with Qrow, the situation is special. The thing is that he never sobers up. It can't be said that he is always on the edge, but when slightly drunk - always. Also, some kind of crap constantly happens to him, either a chair under his ass will collapse, or a fight will start nearby, and the equipment glitches permanently. In general, with such a reputation, everyone sincerely believed that he would not live to be thirty, especially since somewhere "halfway" to this significant age he began to drink. But despite all this, the guy was alive and with all his limbs. And this put many into a stupor - a walking anomaly.

 

 "Today is definitely not your day, buddy," I throw back the rest of the whiskey.

 

 - Ouch, - Junior waves his hand hopelessly, - but now I know who to bill the next time he shows up here, - the bartender finished his drink and reached behind the counter, from where he took out an almost full bottle and began pouring into glasses. Meanwhile, friendly laughter and suspicious whispering could be heard from the women's side, the ladies were not sitting idle either. - And how did it go for you? - Hay asked.

 

 - So-so, - I swung the cigar in the air and took a drag, - a little off-plan, a little more risky than I would have liked, but at least I got away in one piece - and that's not bad. I ran into Glinda, - I wasn't going to inform the bartender that this was the purpose of my "adventure". - And the footage you slipped me...

 

 - Hey, I warned you right away that there were just civilians there who had Aura opened for a couple of lena, after which they started thinking of themselves as Spruce Willis. Each one. So the goods are not subject to exchange or return!

 

 "I didn't intend to," another sip, "I'm just complaining about life."

 

 - Y! - the big guy choked. - Roman Torchwick - and he's not trying to make some kind of profit? Goliath died somewhere, maybe not even alone.

 

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

 

 - Cough, - Hey coughed. - How long are you going to drown me?!

 

 - Well, you react too violently to everything, - I shrug. - How is the situation in the city? - I change the subject.

 

 - Well, how can I tell you... they say that White Fang has somehow stirred up something bad, something might happen. But everything is the same as before, the suppliers are jacking up the price of gin again, the overfed Mistral profiteers, they'll wait, I'll buy tequila in Vacuo...

 

 Junior continued to chatter, pouring out the "bartender's routine chatter" on me, while I puffed on my cigar and watched out of the corner of my eye as Neo, in the company of the Malakait sisters, ate a serving of ice cream with some liqueur at a table that had been hastily restored to a vertical position and was actively typing something on his Scroll. In general, the girls were also relaxing in a cultured manner. It was good, the nerves that had been tensed into a spring gradually relaxed. It was a pity that tomorrow we would have to deal with this "Lieutenant of Taurus" and a crowd of fanatical terrorists, but that would be tomorrow, and for now...

 

 – Pour another one, Junior.

 

 *Splash!*

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