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Realistic or Modern Gangland 2025

"Enough time to crack a few skulls, and enough time to listen to a sweet-faced girl such as yourself." He said, grinning and exposing a few gold teeth. He looked at the other men and nodded at them. They slowly released her and the main man motioned a hand off to a chair that was at the opposite end of the table that he eventually sat back down at. (@Icefox11)


--


Junkie. Right across the street. That's all he needed to remember. Top floor, probably the first room. Then again, a junkie wasn't going to be hard to miss, was he? He didn't have any names or pictures, but maybe this guy thought that he didn't need the pictures, or maybe he actually wasn't going to need them. There must have been some sort of signs that he could look out for that would lead him straight to him... right?


As he exited the building he saw how much things changed in atmosphere. The place opposite the building he exited was a shithole, riddle by the extremely poor and people who had come here via immigration. (@Axel1313)


--


".. Of course it is. We're just waiting for the right moment." He smirked and leaned back in his chair a little more, the chair creaking eerily as he did so. He was thinking about going outside onto their tennis court in the morning, or maybe spending some time with the two boys, whom were both biologically his sons, but he had handed one off to Rick for him to father. (@Beowulf)
 
Right across the street, top floor. At least his location was easy enough to find. Now he just had to make sure to get the right guy. That shouldn't be too tough either. If he was a junkie there was no doubt he was going to be able to tell just by looking at him. Phew! His face scrunched up as soon as he got to the top floor. No doubt he would be able to smell him too. He took in a deep breath to calm his nerves, fiddling with the end of the handgun before deciding to go for it and burst straight in to the apartment that he assumed was the right one.
 
Holow was slowly released by his men, letting her to the floor. She let out a breath that she had not even realized that she was holding. She slowly moved across the floor to sit across from him, crossing her legs and leaning back. She clicked her tongue lightly. "Around 88 thousand." She said, looking at him.
 
"Best to demonstrate out power now. A swift chop does much." Yes, a swift strike can show much. Especially with some weapons from the black market. Some runes and rituals would not do any harm as well. Rituals of sight, runes of burning. Perfect way to end most things from a safe distance and still leave a mark.
 
Wrong one. This one was empty, but the smell of marijuana and other cooked up drugs was very close. It'd be a safe bet to try the next one. Whenever he did, as he got close to the door, suddenly there was a sound of thunder as some wood chipping flew through the air and went right by him. That was the sound of a twelve gauge shotgun.


"You stay the hell away from me!" A drunken and drug-molded voice yelled, followed by the sound of footsteps running across a solid surface. He was barefoot, it seemed.


--


The man burst out into laughter. "Eighty-eight thousand? Bitch, do we look like we make eighty-eight-k every day? Hell no. What the hell are you gonna' do for us that's gonna' pay off that sum?" He asked. Not in a mocking way, but in more of an angered and stern tone. (@Icefox11)


--


"Indeed, indeed. Like I say, we take care of things ourselves. We can possibly make some money in the processes. My resources told me that the Commanding General of The Devil's Arms was the one who organized the bank ambush. TDA's were the first to break the peace treaty. So that means they have to pay the price." He slowly rose up to his feet and stretched his back, his back clicking in several places. ".. To the lower-level for preparation, brother?" He asked with a grin. (@Beowulf)
 
Holow glared at him. "88 thousand the first time, 2.2 million the second." Holow added, looking at him. "And I plan to do what you do to payoff my debt." She said, basically glaring at him now. Her face was blank and not amused. "You know, steal a few things. I'll have you know I can probably sneak around better than you." She said.
 
"HA! Holy shit, girl. Yo' daddy high when he got into that sorta' debt. Fuck, the only people 'round these parts that have that kinda' money are the syndicates and The Black Sun. You know Black Sun?" He asked her. The other men in the room seemed to fall quiet and small at the talk of this. They all wandered off and silently sat down at a beat up old kitchen table at the opposite side of the room where they all had whiskey-stained poker cards set out. (@Icefox11)
 
Holow nodded her head. "I heard of them." She said, her voice still cold. "He thought he was going to make big on an invention back then and become a millionaire. Let's just say that that never happened." She said, crossing her arms over her chest. She raised an eyebrow. "So, are you ready to accept my deal?"
 
"Jeezus!" Johnathan stumbled backwards as the sound blasted his eardrums and the chips of wood flew by his face. His heart beat wildly against his chest, threatening to beat right out of his chest. He took a moment to regain his composure before taking off after the sound of footsteps. "Fat chance buddy! Your a$$ is grass!" The gun clicked as he whipped it out of his pocket. "Get back here and make this quick already! I'm on a tight schedule!"
 
"Ha. We all had some crazy inventions that we wanted to come up with. Hell yeah, I'll accept. We'll get some racial segregation shit goin' down if they see the hoodrats cruisin' with a white girl. Now that's a perfect line up for a movie right there." He smirked and slowly rose up to walk over to a couch that was beside the table. When he walked around to the front he reached down and grabbed something - whatever it was whimpered and squirmed. "Bitch, get yo stupid ass up, damn..." He murmured. He pulled a woman to her feet - her blonde hair was brown with dirt and she was skinny and malnourished; her white skin was more black with all of the grime that had become acquainted to it. Her eyes were sunk and her mouth was crooked and dry; she could barely stand when he pulled her up by her hair, and she was near enough crying but she was completely out of it as well. Clearly she was on some sort of drug at this current time and she was off of her head; the scars on her arms were evidence of that. He shoved her down towards an old burnt out TV and she stumbled straight over it; the TV smashed even more and she went down with a sob and a splutter of a cough; he then curled into a shivering fetal position and shut her eyes tight.


The man grabbed his wallet off of the couch and flipped it open, followed by flicking a small photo onto the table in front of Holow. It was an Asian man. Bald, long beard, somewhat aged - the picture was printed in black and white. "That's yo' first target. You're gonna' ride with us and we're gonna' fuck that guy up." He said. A tattoo on the Asian man's face showed that he was a member of the Gunma Family. (@Icefox11)


--


"Yo, man! Get the hell out of here!" He fired another shot off in the direction of the door and once again the pellets went dangerously close to Jonathan. The man dashed off and hid somewhere in another room. (@Axel1313)
 
Johnathan jumped as the pellets whizzed past him. Far too close for comfort too if ya asked him. "That's it....I'm done with these games. Show yourself ya slimy coward!" He shouted furiously as he kicked down the door. Storming around the rooms in search of this shotgun wielding scumbag. "I know you're in here, so ya might as well show your ugly mug!"
 
Holow saw him pull up the mangy girl, but she bit her tongue, avoiding saying anything about her new boss. That would only cause trouble. She stared at the picture of the man that was in front of her. She nodded, taking the picture and putting it in her back pocket. "Alright, then lets go." She said, standing up.
 
A man popped up from behind the waste-stained bed in one room and fired another shot off at him. And then another, and then another, and then another. He stopped shooting - the only chance that a shot hit him there was the first one, and that would have only caught his arm, at most. The man was now hidden behind the bed again. (@Icefox11)
 
The man had fired off so many shots, but was the first one that left his arm burning. A cry of pain escaped as blood leaked through torn pieces of fabric on his sleeve. "Why you...." He gritted his teeth. He made a quick decision to dive over the bed after the guy. With that big of a gun he wasn't going to be able to aim it fast enough at this range. "This is my nicest shirt! You're gonna pay for that." He aimed the gun at the man's head. No doubt this was his target. He just reeked of drugs and alcohol.
 
He stood up to fire another shot as he heard him run in, his back against the large window of the room. Just when Johnathan thought he was dead, there was one satisfying noise.


Click.


The man dropped the shotgun and his eyes went wide as he stared down the barrel of the gun. "Fuck." He muttered softly. (@Axel1313)
 
Holow looked at him, looking his gun up and down. "Sweet artillery." She said, nodding to his gun. She had her own, but it wasn't that tricked out. It was old. "Sure." She said, leaning back. "Let's just get going." She said to him, wanting to get this thing over with as soon as possible, the sight of the woman was disturbing enough.
 
"Yeah, sure." He tried to step forward but something had gripped his ankle. He looked down and saw the woman clinging onto him. "Bitch, fuck out." He snarled as he sent his boot into her chest. She coughed a drug-influenced cough and rolled over onto her opposite side. ".. Let's get rollin'." He said, he then lead her and the rest of his men out to their vehicles. He owned a 1970 AMC Hornet. A muscle car. It was painted yellow, typically, but a sort of race yellow. He opened up the door for her and then went around to the driver's side. "A'ight, let's move out. My name's Le'Mar, by the way." He said as he brought the engine to a start and pulled out of the back alley that lead out onto the street. (@Icefox11)
 
Galin grinned as the other line went dead. It had been too long since he’d received and interesting contract. Hiriko Tagaraki, he ran a mental check on the man as he began to remove the floorboards in the north east corner of his apartment. Tagaraki was a fairly high ranking member of the Gunma so he could expect at least thirty guards. Along with that the docks, while easily accessible, only have so many ways one could approach from. A night time job then, he thought to himself removing a beaten up duffel bag from the shallow hole he had created in his floor. Galin opened the bag and glanced at the contents before removing six small mags from the bag and stuffing them in his pocket. He wondered briefly if Tagaraki rated thermals and then shook his head, at best the man rated night vision and that was something he could deal with. Galin quickly replaced the bag and the boards and moved his way to the bathroom sink. Moving fast Galin reached into the maze of pipes and removed a small clear pouch containing a grey cylinder like object. Lastly he crossed to the night stand by his bed and picked up and ordinary looking alarm clock that appeared to be broken. After a few minutes of disassembly Galin placed three bundles of wire attached to small plastic timers into the clear bag. Galin nodded to himself, besides the few things he needed from his eastern stash he’d be good. He tapped his fingers on the grip his glock, his mind beginning to work out the finer details of the job. After all he still had a few more hours to kill.
 
"Sorry pal." He held the gun hesitantly. Why was he doing this again? Oh yeah...the one and a half million debt hanging over his head. And the fact that he told Amari that he would do anything to pay it off. "Nothing personal. Just business." He shut his eyes tightly, pulled the trigger and ran, not even bothering to see if he had actually hit his target.
 
A text came through to Galin's phone:


'A boat is leaving in an hour and thirty minutes. For a bonus, you can burn this said boat. This boat is loaded with a large quantity of their narcotics. Let's hit these bastards where it hurt.'





An hour and thirty minutes. Optional side-task, but more pay equals a better lifestyle in the poor side of the USA. A few hours if he wanted the base pay, but a little over an hour if he wanted the full thing. (@Mason


--


He gasped as the bullet struck him in the chest; he flew backwards against the single-paneled window and smashed right through it - his body plummeted down and smash down atop a car that was parked in the parking lot. So now there was Johnathan's blood on the scene, one bullet casing, a door that was kicked down, and a body wrangled into the metal of a car. So much for not leaving evidence - Amari probably wouldn't be happy, but at least the job got done. Next stop - Main St. (@Axel1313)
 
Holow nodded, following him. She walked carefully over the woman to avoid bruising her more and causing her more pain. She followed the man out to his car, which looked pretty expensive. She climbed in the passenger side, buckling up. She was not about to lose her life because of reckless driving. She stared out at the front, looking around as he drove out.
 
"So. Seein' as you and your daddy never qualified or got somethin' famous to get you into the rich side, I'm guessin' you've been here most yo' life, if not all of it?" He asked as he drove along. He was easily hammering eighty-miles per hour, but no passing cars seemed to care all that much. (@Icefox11)
 
Johnathan bolted out of there as fast as his legs would carry him. Wiping the gun clean of prints before ditching it in an alley dumpster. On his way to mainstreet he ripped off his torn up sleeve and and bandaged his shot up arm with it. Best to appear as least suspicious as possible, even with his shirt turning red quickly. He was so glad when he saw Main St. It meant he was done with that and all he had to do was wait for Amari now.
 
Holow nodded. "Yeah. I basically raised myself, with a bit of help from my father. Got a job early in life, my mother bailed on us when I was 8, so everything has been riding on my shoulders for a long time." She said, leaning back. She had to admit, he had a pretty sweet ride for a gang member. He must have tons of street cred.
 
Forty minutes later and he was unexpectedly snatched up off of the street and pulled into a black limousine with full black tinted windows. He didn't know who it was at first, obviously, but then he saw the same suited man that he'd seen in the little office room in the building they were in around an hour ago. His head was bowed and his hat was tilted forward once again.


".. Johnathan." He greeted in a murmur. (@Icefox11)
 

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