Escape from Remnant

Chapter 17.3: Consequence of Thy Actions

"Ozpin what the hell!!!" Lieutenant Straken barges through to Ozpin from the elevator doors. Ozpin looks up from his desk having been scanning a student slated for expulsion due to injury. He was taken aback, he wasn't expecting visitors at this hour and had nobody scheduled to come up to his office. The sun having long since set now shining down on the exact opposite of remnant.

"Lieutenant Straken...a pleasant surprise-"

The lieutenant throws several photos onto Ozpin's table. He looks down and looking at the contents of the photo seeing injuries of some sort on a man. They were brutal ones, what looked to be deep cuts right bellow the spine by glass or the aftermath of a painful smack to the face. But it wasn't just any man, instead it was to be that of Junior evident by the Xiong syndicate tattoos on his body.

"What's your business showing me this lieutenant? I thought the mission was done and over?" He questions the angry cop before him.

"Yes but what part of arresting Junior Xiong involved beating him senseless! There are some things aura can't fix, cut that. Many things aura can't fix. Luckily with time his wounds will turn to scars...." He lamented.

"They did this...?" He knew something would probably go wrong getting military men opposed to huntsmen, he regretted it all now. Just as he was about to say he would revoke their huntsmen licences and put them to work killing Grimm the lieutenant's expression slightly softened up.

"But I will admit...I've never seen men so effective at combat before...only the gods know where you found them but I want them when we get roman." He leans further closer towards ozpin his hand on his table like a anchor on the table a conflicted look upon his face.

"They also stole stuff..." The lieutenant added.

"What?!" Ozpin exclaims, stealing items from a crime scene was a highly punishable offence especially from a crime scene like this. "Well kind of, most of the cameras were destroyed in the battle for the security room but we have footage of one stealing vodka taking a swig then using it to heal himself..." Ozpin pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration seeing as all his woes and worries came true.

"Well if he did use it to heal himself surely it isn't a big deal....I will send a message to them however since there is no evidence they stole any thing more..." Ozpin leans back into his chair from his current position swiveling himself gently side to side.

"Yes I figured but I have a feeling that they stole more but we can't prove anything...whatever the case is there's nothing neither you nor I can do...." He gestures asking if he could sit down on the chair across from Ozpin on the either side of his desk without saying words, he gestures allowing him to sit down.

"Want some tea?" He offers Lieutenant Straken pulling out 2 cups from under his desk.

"Yeah sure."

Ozpin begins to prepare the tea for both of them, the green kind right from the kingdom of mistral.

"You know...those men...they have no souls..."

"Hm?"

"They just kill...and kill...and kill. I saw the aftermath...it was horrible...I wonder how men like this can sleep..."

Meanwhile at the group's dorms, everyone was gathered at the dining table drinking away and enjoying their spoils. Bottles of vodka, beer, whiskey, bourbon, gin all stolen from the night club stewen about on the table. Valuables were also on the table such as the briefcase of money, some gold bars and the cigars. Everyone was having a good time in stark contrast to the murderous rampage they had gone on earlier drinking away their woes.

"Good I'm gonna be wasted tomorrow...." Texas laments yet still taking a swing of bourbon straight from the bottle, he swirls the golden brown liquid around inside the bottle and taking a look at how much was left inside. It wasn't much but he had lost track if he had drunk it all or someone else from the group having handed the half empty bottle to him.

"Don't we have fuckin classes tomorrow?" Moron asks slurring his words, bottle of clear white throat burning vodka in his hands also nearly empty.

"Yeah we do...probably should stop drinking..." Akula suggests.

"Right..." Still possessing the mental capacity to think a little Texas puts the bottle down knowing he can't teach in a hung over state without fucking the lesson up. A buzz comes from Texas' phone in his pocket, the screen lighting up with a message from ozpin. He takes the phone out to inspect who had sent him a message.

"Dear Mr Texas...please tell your friends not to steal items from...hey look who it is!" Texas turns the phone's screen to face the others at the table, attached to the message was a image from a grainy CCTV camera of Moron stealing bottles of vodka from the bar.

"Oop, old moron here got caught in the act!" Floridaman snickers

"Ah fuck em, they're pissed because I stole the drinks first. Besides they'd do the same exact thing. What's Ozpin gonna do?"

Texas reads further down to see if there was any consequence to the whole thing but there wasn't. It was akin to how the united nations did things by giving a strongly worded warn, all talk no balls to actually go and do something.

"Welp I'm off to bed." Floridaman moves to get up and leave but Texas stops him bringing the briefcase of cash onto the table followed by the gold bars. He snaps the briefcase open to reveal bundles of banknotes stacked straight against and on top of each other in neat rows just like that.

"Oh shit I almost forgot!" He sits back down excited to get his own share of cash in addition to the money he already got from the government from the raid.

"We all count this shit together then we'll divide it 4 ways equally. I don't wanna hear anyone bitch and moan about the money plus its probably not laundered yet anyways..." The men give slight nods of approval to the plan looking at each other and then Texas. Texas grabs a calculator and starts counting, everyone follows suit grabbing a bundle of notes counting the amount they had gotten from effectively killing a shit ton of people like lambs to the slaughter.