Arcfall (Male Reader Insert)

Chapter Twenty Five

  "Hey hey hey! I got dinosaur eggs. Don't know what kind, buy em' and hatch em' to find out!" The 'salesman' shouted from the back of his moving truck in an alley. You watched from the shadows, seeing him pawn off cheap junk to what fools came close enough. On occasion though, some shady figures would approach and he would hand them packages wrapped in brown paper. No words were exchanged, only cash. You stalked towards him from the shadows, making sure to close the distance without being noticed.

  "You Larry?" You asked. Larry jumped at the sound of your voice before spinning around.

  "What the hell man, don't scare me like that!" You looked Larry up and down. He had dark skin and wore a yellow jersey. A pair of sunglasses rested on his face, disguising his eyes. Finally, you saw his hair. Larry had the biggest, poofiest afro you had ever seen. Larry took your silence as initiative to speak again, "Yeah, I'm fat Larry with an F-A-T cause I know I got a weight problem, and I just don't give a fuck." Whatever his flaws, you had to admire his charisma.

  "I'm looking for someone. Maybe you can help out," you said.

  "Maybe maybe, what can you do in exchange my man?" Larry responded.

  "I can let you keep both your kneecaps," you responded.

  "Man, forget that shit, get the hell outta here before I call the five-oh," Larry sneered.

  "What, so they can arrest you for selling weapons on the street?" you asked. All the color drained from Larry's face. He was sweating bullets, now. Larry reached behind him and grabbed a double barrel shotgun before emptying both barrels into your chest. The buckshot pinged Harmlessly off your aura.

  "Oh, hell-" Was all Larry got out before you grabbed him by the throat, lifting him off of the ground and slamming him into the back of his truck.

  "Where do I find Roman Torchwick!" You hissed, inches from larry's face, your helmet poking into his skin.

  "Man, I don't know I swear!" Larry said, "He's gone big time! Doesn't bother with small fry like me!"

  "Then where do you get your merchantice Larry? Who gives you the guns? The dust?" You gripped Larry tighter.

  "Man I ain't got no dust, the black market for that stuff is completely dry! Check my truck, I swear!" Larry gripped your hand, trying to pry himself free.

  "If you try and run, you'll regret it," you said as you dropped Larry to the ground. You slid the cover of his truck open to reveal cheap baubles he probably pawned off to tourists and a few guns. But no dust. Not a drop. The sound of feet pounding on the concrete drew your attention back to Larry, who was making a break for it. You slung your bat at him, bouncing it off a wall before it collided with his leg, shattering his knee.

  "I told you you would regret that," you said before grabbing Larry's collar, "Who were the men who bought the guns?"

  "I-I don't know man! Some young faunus boys! I-I didn't see their faces, they had these freaky white masks!" You dropped Larry.

  "Thanks for the information. Do yourself a favor and get the hell out of Vale," You picked up the bat you had thrown at Larry before disappearing into the shadows.

***

  The docks were quiet. All the ships had either already docked or departed. The smell of fish hung in the air, keeping most people away. It was the perfect place for a hideout. You sat on top of a warehouse, eyeing the figures that strode down the docks. Some were fishermen, a few sailors, but if your gut was right you would find your faunus boys. You swung you legs over the edge of the warehouse, dangling them in the air. You weren't entirely sure how long you had waited before you saw them. Three figures in hoodies, with white masks on their faces walked down the docks casually. You slid down the slanted roof into an alley. Showtime.