Intoxicated // Countryhumans RusAme

Chapter 10 - The Hills

Malaysia and Indonesia stayed in the car when Brazil and Mexico headed out. With his hand rested, Malaysia hummed to himself while playing some games on his phone. He knew that as long as he didn't say a word to the neighboring country beside him, everything should run smoothly.

Brazil and Mexico were to gather all the information that they could from this location and he and Indonesia were to be on the lookout for any suspicious activity. Ideally, of course, they wouldn't have to get involved at all and just would wait for the two to return.

Malaysia turned his head at the soft sound coming from his left side.

Indonesia looked busy, harshly scratching up some notes in his journal. Biting the tip of his pencil, Indonesia looked deep in thought over the situation unlike Malaysia who was just passing time by playing games on his phone.

It felt like twenty minutes passed until Indonesia finally changed his position. He looked out the window, squinting at a pair of shady-looking figures approaching the mansion. As he eyed them walking towards the entrance, he noted the handguns they held close to their chest, as if they were trying to hide them and cursed under his breath.

He shoulder-bumped Malaysia. "Hey, idiot," he grabbed his attention.

Malaysia didn't look away from his device but frowned anyways.

"Did you see those sneaky fucks out there?"

Malaysia looked up from his phone. "What? See who?"

Indonesia grabbed his phone out of his hands and threw it into the back seat.

"Hey—!"

"Take your eyes off the damn screen and maybe you'd see." Indonesia looked out again and muttered quietly, "Stay here."

Malaysia heard the car door click open and Indonesia step out with his emergency pack on.

"Wait, where are you going?" He yelled, "Indo!"

Indonesia shut the car door and walked towards the entrance with a blank look on his face. He walked up the steps and jiggled the door knob.

It was locked, of course. Indonesia then quickly took out a handheld gadget out of his backpack and tied the small bomb onto the handle of the metal door. He pulled the handle and ran back a few yards.

A small explosion followed a few seconds later. Indonesia looked over the bush to see the hole that he had created; it was relatively small as he observed, but large enough for him to crawl through.

He made his way in, growling every step he made, "Those lying fucks will regret messing with us."

His hand was swift as he pulled out the sword he kept with him at all times as soon as he stepped inside.

Indonesia preferred to use this combat weapon most often—a sharply cut bamboo sword with a clear metal coating that allowed it to reflect something as strong as even bullets.

He swung it over his shoulder with pride and confidence. The thin blade allowed him to cut through practically anything and was considered by many to be almost a part of his intricate personality.