Dumbass!

N20

After an extremely prolonged period of 20 minutes of the guy just pestering and annoying George, he finally left. George sighed in relief when the door banged shut after the man. Not only because during that time George got hit and cut a quadrillion times, but because that dude just wouldn't shut up.

Of course, he didn't leave without any unnecessary measures taken though. The man proceeded to force a pill down George's throat, which George assumed was some kind of roofie to make him pass out. But the man made a grave mistake of underestimating George, since George was long resistant to those kinds of things. His mafia training really did pay off. However, George still felt a bit drowsy, so that would definitely slow him down a little.

As George straightened his back on the chair he ran his eyes over himself. He usually had lock picks in the sleeve of his shirt, but obviously they had taken all of his stuff away when tying him. He didn't have his knife either, since Ranboo had thrown it off of the building. Wait, but did he? His hands carefully trailed up his sleeve as far as they could reach, and he suddenly felt something heavy slide down. George groaned as he felt a tip of a knife hit his fingers. His knife. As he looked around in confusion, he noticed a few purple particles flying around.

What?... How could he have gotten his knife back? George sighed in confusion. But he quickly realized that this wasn't the moment to let his thoughts wander, so he swiftly cut through the ropes tying his hands, and then moved to do the same to the ropes on his legs.

George stood up very suddenly, quickly regretting that as soon as he felt all of his cuts sting and the drowsiness over come him. He closed his eyes for a moment, straightening his stance, and preparing for what was about to come. He needed to be ready in case he had to do some running—which he probably would have to do a lot.

If it really turned out that Dream orchestrated this whole thing on purpose, George would really make him pay. If only Wilbur could beat some sense into him, that would be great.

George moved towards the door and hastily lock picked it with his knife. George then made sure to carefully slip the knife back into his sleeve. If not discovered, it could later be used as a secret attack weapon.

He didn't have a proper plan yet. The only goal that lingered in his mind was to first get information, and second get out of there. What he'd do after that was still something he would have to discuss in his head. Would he talk to Dream about this? To his boss? Could he even trust Dream? But the one thing he definitely knew was that he would try to avoid talking to Ranboo, and continue his investigation on the esper.

The door slowly opened as George proceeded to immediately slip through the small crack and turn to the left corner. He had to take into account all of the cameras around the halls, lucky thing that he knew the layout of this base, or he would face a greater struggle. He had to navigate to the files room, where the needed information about Schlatt was. And not only him, the first step to taking him down was to bring down his power, which would require a lot of work.

George wasn't sure if he cared enough about Schlatt anymore. He had a bigger problem and mission that he'd have to deal with, but he still couldn't disobey boss's orders.

Most of the corridors looked the same. Gray walls, brown doors, and the smell of human decay followed. George assumed that he was on the floor where they kept their hostages, most already probably dead.

And he might have been the next one.

But he wouldn't let that happen. As he approached a steel door, he noticed a guard standing there. The guard also clearly noticed George. "Hey! How are you-" The guard couldn't finish his sentence as his head was slammed by George's foot. He quickly caught the guard before he could fall, leaned him on the wall, and started undressing him. He'd need to disguise himself for as little confrontation as possible. He exchanged their clothes, and shoved the guard into one of the cells.

George frowned at having to say goodbye to his favorite shirt.

But there was no time for that. He reached into the pocket of his new pants and grabbed what felt like a key card out of there. If he had come there prepared he'd definitely have a fake key card made, but he was thrown into this situation quite unexpectedly.

The steel door opened with a wheeze, and George internally cringed at the sound. At this rate he'd be discovered before he was able to set foot on a higher floor. Damned Dream. Did he really have to put him in this situation?

But this wasn't the time to pout. George left through the door, avoiding all of the guards and getting into the elevator using the key card. As he stood in the elevator, he carefully inspected the card in his hands for further use. He needed to be able to tell which doors it could open and which it couldn't, just in case so he didn't accidentally active the security system. He left the elevator the moment it opened, giving a quick nod to the guards standing outside of the elevator, and proceeding to move left.

He was now approaching the file room. He knew he couldn't get in it right through the door because there were guards guarding there at all times, who would require identification and proof of allowance to enter the room. However, he also knew that there was a secret passage leading to the room through one of the neighboring ones.

So, he entered that room using the key card, walked up to a shelf from which he grabbed a book, and smashed the side of the book into the side of the shelf. George turned right to see a passage open in the wall. This wasn't a very usual way of hiding a secret passage, but George liked the individuality, and that it brought reassurance that no one could ever guess how to open it.

Well they clearly underestimated George. And his ability to identify weird shit. Like calls to like after all.

Finally, George found himself standing in the file room. Filled with cabinets, and computer software. He approached one of the cabinets, opening and pulling out a few USB's. He was pretty good at navigating his way through the files room since he'd done it a lot in other places and understood the way they were usually organized.

But as he moved to one of the computers, he suddenly froze. George's breath hitched as he slowly turned his gaze to one of the cabinets. That one isn't supposed to be there. He slowly walked up to it as he decoded which cabinet this one was supposed to be. The writing on it presumably read "Espers". Well, this was perfect. George thought. Maybe he'd be able to find some information on different espers to better understand Ranboo.

However, what he did not expect was to immediately be met with the name of a fellow esper as he opened the cabinet. The cabinet contained multiple USB's. Most of them on the general origin of the espers, but one of them specifically titled "Ranboo". George picked it up in caution, eyeing it with concerned interest. How did they have information on him? He thought, narrowing his eyes.

Well, perhaps he wasn't the only one with a mission related to Ranboo. But it didn't add up. How could they have information on him when not even Goerge's mafia could find anything? That was a question which George was planning to answer right now, as he shoved the other USB's into his pocket, and proceeded to one of the computers while clutching Ranboo's USB in his hand.

He plugged it in, and information immediately flooded the screen. "Agent R" Was the first thing that caught George's eye. What the hell did that mean? Ranboo didn't go by Agent R in his mafia. George squinted in confusion. The rest of the things he read left him distressed. None of the information made sense. It was just about certain missions....missions that George had hear of. Weird events and disappearances that did not add up and could not be figured out. The only information known was that they were done in favor of Schlatt. Crimes that George assumed were impossible to be carried out by a person and go unnoticed.

Unless...that person possessed an ability.