Frisk POV:
"So.. you're going out again?" Angie asked as I sat down at one of the lunch tables.
"Yeah. And it ain't going to be pretty." I muttered back to her, keeping my task rather secretive, knowing that we don't much information on Sans.
"What do ya mean?" She asked, taking a seat across from me. "Don't tell me he's better than you!"
I choked on a bit of my water as I took a sip, "What?! No! But it does day he could potentially meet my skills."
We were having canned food. Again.
Ever since the last bombing of trying to wipe out monsters, the food sources have depleted rapidly, us having to make our own farms, or preserve what we already had.
Luckily, we're an all human organization, and we get a bit of funds from the government if we target Monster-based Mafias, like the MMO.
Its just hard when we know literally nothing about them or the base.
"That's Banana Shenanigans!" She yelled. Angie has always been the 'mom' of the Mafia, always taking care of people-
And well known for not cursing.
Wonder why.
"Yeah, I know. But I'll just get him like baboom and get it done with." I replied, taking a mouthful of food in my mouth. Tasteless.
"And it's a solo mission?" She said, obviously wanting to see this for herself.
"Yeah, sadly." I said, washing down the tasteless food down with a glass of water. "I should be going. It'll be best if I do this during the night."
I stood up, tray in hand, and my glass in the other. I looked down at her sitting position before she spoke again in a curious tone.
"How do you know where to find him?"
"I'll probably camp out at the old Warehouse for a few days, and see what information I can recover. I'll be back in a week, tops." I reassured her.
"Look forward to it." She replied casually. "You still owe me that drink from a few weeks ago, DONT forget."
"You STILL remember that?" I said, shocked.
"Of course." She grinned mischievously. I only rolled my eyes and walked off to give my dishes to the clean up lady, as if this was a school cafeteria.
I walked out of the loud lunch room, giving a small wave to Angie, before going to the weaponry to chose my method of attack.
So, instead of a right towards the dorms, I took a left, where the training and weapons are.
Though meeting the target on the first day is not guaranteed, rather, any day at all, I still needed to be ready for any combat, even if it might just be scouting.
I might get lucky, ya never know.
I figured I'd just camp out in a nearby building, where the warehouse was in sight, so if the target was in range or in my line of view- boom.
Shot dead.
Though I'd have to watch for the snipers. And the place would probably be even more secure than it was last time I arrived due to my attack on April.
"I don't get paid enough." I muttered under my breath as I swiped a small keycard I had on me and opened the black door.
The weaponry was full of advanced equipment that only senior members could handle, including me. Rookies are prohibited.
But I choose to stick with a pistol and a knife.
I don't assassinate in a brutal way, rather a quick, silent, and mostly painless death.
The floors were a dark brown wooden color, and different types of guns were hung up on the wall like your average gun shop.
A checkered, metal fence-like wall stood to separate the Malay from the long range.
It was a half wall, only taking about 1/4 of the room up, but one side have hammers, chainsaws, boxes of knives, tranquilizers and darts, while the other side consisted of guns, and protective armor.
In one corner of the room, kits to assemble crossbows stood, and next to them, C-4's were kept.
So it was pretty much everything everywhere.
If that skeleton outside the warehouse is related to him in some sort of way, I'll have to find out what weapon choice he uses.
He could potentially come for back-up if I get into too big of a fight with him.
I'll just take a gun.
I shrugged, pulling a pistol off of the wall, not bothering to bring any silencers or scopes.
Those men aren't fast. I can get away without leaving any evidence but a gunshot and his dead body.
I'll bring a knife Incase of him being a Malay user as well, but from what I saw in the warehouse, his first reaction was to pull a gun, so I'd think he's a long range user, like me.
The question is, what's his accuracy of aim?
I sat down on one of the cases of guns, while I checked my pistol of choice's bullets, and to see if it'll get jammed anytime soon.
Pulling apart the gun, I leaned back, bumping the name of my neck onto the metal bars, causing a sharp pain to spring inside of my neck. I yelped a bit, dropping a piece of the gun part.
Rather than picking it up, I rubbed the back of my neck where the sensitive part was.
This isn't the first time this has happened.
The pain.
It's greater than anything I've ever felt.
The back of my neck had always been extremely sensitive for as long as I can remember. Applying any pressure to the tender skin causes a great deal of pain to shoot up my spine.
The nurse here claims it's just a sensitive part of the skin, and some sensitive scar tissue is left behind from a gunshot wound...
But..
That doesn't sound correct.
I've never had any lesson on anatomy, so I can't be the one to talk. Maybe I should finally just let it go after all these years.
Grabbing the gun piece, I assembled the gun back once more, and grabbed a box of bullets from the table beside me, and looks around to see if I needed anything else before I headed out.
Seems like all I ever do is eat, sleep, and fight.
Never get to relax.
I poured a bit, jealous of the other senior members and the other Veterans. They always got time off, by I never did.
And I always get the harshest punishments.
I guess it just shapes me into the fighter I am.
With a sigh, I headed out of the weaponry and shut the door behind me, hearing a satisfying 'click' of the lock after closing it.
Turning around, I was relieved to say that no one had been in the small hallway, or I'd definitely get questioned on why I was grabbing weapons on "my day off".
Because usually you get one or two days off after a long mission.
Whatever.
Its not time to think about that.
Its time to lock n' load.
YOU ARE READING
Taking cover <Frans>
Action"I'm telling you! She died in a fire 7 years ago!" I boomed and raised my hands up in the air. He was sitting calmly, in his chair and leaned over onto his elbows in a discreet manner. "Well, According to what we have just witnessed today, that is m...
