Escape from Remnant

Chapter 15: Another Purpose to a well oiled machine

"Alright your gun is all restored, I got rid of as much rust as possible. Replaced the wood furniture, just wanna ask what are these?" Professor Mulberry dumps a pile of stretched out sun bleached esmarches onto the table next to Akula's gun. The 2 of them had gathered after Akula decided to finally get his gun restored to a condition that did not look like it was physically rotting before one's eyes. "Ah yese are esmarch, live saving stuff!" He exclaimed picking one of them up, by god they were worn out, they were a pale pink and had started to even crack.

"But why put them over the stock?" Akula puts it down a and shrugs moving his shoulders up. "Dunno, my dad said it was a field technique he did when in Chechnya. Quick access to stuff that can save your life and more comfortable cheek rest." Mulberry scratches his head in confusion at what he just stated looking down at the gun and back up at him.

"What...? What's a Chechnya? Plus I could just make you a better stock. If anything I could rebuild your whole gun for you."

"Ah don't worry about it."

A loud symphonic tune started to play from Akula's pocket. It was his scroll going off, someone was calling him.

"Sorry gotta take this." He tells to professor Mulberry before turning around and opening the device. The call came from Texas, this meant it probably was important.

"Hey Texas kinda in the middle of getting my factory new kalash here..." He said in a hushed tone putting up one of his hands against his mouth to give some sort of privacy semblance. "Well...the big man in the tower wants us all gathered. Together. Something about a new mission." Akula gives a awkward glance to professor Mulberry still standing there equally awkwardly stating at him. "Alright alright I'll be there. Sorry man gotta go." He slides his scroll back into his pocket and grabs his gun from the table.

It was a few days the group had been in remnant and things were going well. All of them were happy to not be fighting for survival like they were back in tarkov not to mention no tasks or quests from traders just for loot to sell for food and water. They would all glady become basically military combat instructors for some teenagers than be actual battle line soldiers. Surprisingly Texas never got in trouble for showing that video of a arena match gone wrong involving a certain killa and the lesson he conducted was even worse because he used the example of photos depicting various wounds all in their fully uncensored graphic glory.

Even though Texas told him that the whole thing about the Glynda looking after the students during initiation was a lie and these young adults know the risks of getting into such a occupation...they were still not prepared for such a thing. Nobody was, he was in Russian army before EMERCOM and couldn't handle the hordes of desperate Russians fleeing tarkov and the hell that followed after that. Rifle still in one hand he marched all the way to the big tower which the headmaster's office sat on top of. Going up the elevator he could see that everyone else of the group was already there, Ozpin himself on his desk as per usual, "ay what the fuck is this you don't trust me cause I'm scav? That's why you got me here alone?" He steps out and holds his arms open at everyone waiting for a response, even Moron was slumped over a chair sleeping.

"More like we texted you but you didn't see the message." Floridaman says holding up his scroll with their messages containing texts telling him to meet at Ozpin's tower. "Ah...fuck..." He walks up to join with the rest of his group. Ozpin was delighted to see that everyone had assembled together once more giving a small gentle smile on his face. "Now, I have gathered you all today to give you some additional work. You all will be compensated for your time and effort sufficiently." Glancing down at Moron who was still sleeping Texas slaps him awake on the shoulder. "Ah what the fuck!- oh..." Everyone sighs as Moron puts himself together into a slightly more presentable body posture.