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originally posted in:The New Dojo
1/10/2018 8:16:50 AM
1
"Don't blame us. Blame the damn gods and so called heroes that make life a living hell for us....I just want my little girl happy again...."
The man holstered his weapon.
"If you're not going to fight us then just leave, we're not being talked out of this."
English
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People just trying to get by in a place like the Dojo. A haven of violence, erratic behaviour and death. The birthplace of legends that most often began in undiagnosed sociopathy. He couldn't hide it. One of his hands clenched into a fist as he thought of [i]him.[/i] "We all want something," he spoke softly, "and god knows I understand what it means to do anything for a loved one. But you're in the wrong place at the wrong time, I guess. I never had someone like me to catch me in the act and tell me to stop. Lucky me, I guess. You have a few choices. Option 1: You can draw your gun and leave me a corpse on the ground with the poor young lady here most likely too traumatized to perform any tricks for you lot. And trust me when I say that you'll be leaving me as a corpse. Would you like that?"
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"We're not killing you. You two, grab her..." Two men rushed forward and grabbed the girl, gagging her so she couldn't yell and tying her hands behind her back. "Sorry, old man, but she'll make us rich."
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He shifted his weight to his good leg and pointed the crutch at the speaker, ignoring the girl for now. "So be it then. I'm still new around here, so I don't really get the customs, but I'll try my hand at it anyways. I challenge you to a good old-fashioned melee duel." The man spoke with complete sureness despite his position. A cripple challenging an armed thug to a fight - who the hell was this guy? "Beat me, and you get my wallet and my gun. I have a ghost card, like a credit card but stocked with thousands of dollars' worth of cryptocurrency. Untraceable money to an anonymous user. You could buy an entire militia and nobody could trace it to you. But if I win, you let the girl and I go. Come now. You're going to take the girl anyways - might as well make some extra funds off an old man who wants some exercise. Oh, and I wouldn't try just robbing me of my card. My wallet needs my clearance to unlock itself, after all. So what do you say?" His tone was taunting, as if trying to lead the thug into the battle by condescension.
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"So this is the catch? I don't feel like possibly losing her just because you have a trump card...but the money...." The man thought it over for a bit. "I don't think I could hurt an old cripple even if he's asking for it. I'm sorry, but I'm not going to rob you. Men, let's take her home." The girl squirmed and kicked as she was tied and carried away.
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He cursed quietly under his breath. Since the thug didn't take the bait, it looks like he had to drop the subtlety. "Right. Option 2 then." Materializing out of thin air, several drones about as big as an armoured fist appeared. Their lights shone down brightly on the group like a collection of mobile spotlights. "If you don't take the deal," he began, "then I contact almost every two-bit law enforcement wannabe in the Dojo. Every faction that thinks that they're providing justice and protection all drawn to you lot. I'm sure you're smart enough to know how many PMCs and personal armies are run by people who try to be the good guys. I start streaming these drones and their location, and you'll have every "hero" on your trail in minutes. Funny, how useful these little helpers can be. I usually use them to help me carry loads back at the shop, but fit them with a couple cameras and wire them right... and speaking of which, they're on a digital dead man's switch. Shoot one of them, and this goes live. Shoot me... now, you wouldn't wanna find out what my drones do when my biometrics flatline." He spread his free hand outwards theatrically. "So what's it gonna be? Indulge an old man's silly request, or race every prick with a weapon in this place?"
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"I think the guys hunting the heroes will just use that opportunity to their advantage and keep us covered...buuut....Fire!" All of the men took aim at the drones, all firing at them at the same time.
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While half were caught in the crossfire, the others weren't dumb. They scrambled and began swirling around the men, keeping them preoccupied by zipping by their lines of fire. Taking this opportunity, the man pointed his crutch at the young lady during the chaos. Now that all of the men were too busy firing their weapons, it was his chance. From the crutch's end launched a translucent ball no bigger than the tip of the crutch itself. It attached to the young woman, pulling her back rapidly via the metal cord that anchored it to the structure it was shot from. The cripple grunted and bent on one knee, the other locking into position through its mechanical leg brace as he opened his free arm to catch the young woman. Zooming back to their master, the remaining drones directed their light towards each other, forming a sheet of energy over the duo: a crude shield. He stared back at the thugs through the shields, eyes now free of his hasty bluffs. Pupils filled with contempt that seethed at the thugs. "Bullies and thugs, all of you. Lemme tell you the truth. There are no heroes and villains. Here, there are only people like you but in different clothes. Here's another truth: there was no signal to every armed faction. But someone is coming." For a moment his anger subsided, looking at the men with pity. "Go. Please, before they get here. Nobody has to get hurt tonight."
