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Chapter Nine
Published 1 month ago
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Ok, sorry for the wait, but yes... I'm still writing this story. I don't plan on giving up once I start writing a Mecabricks story
. Anyways, here you are!

“Jack,” one of the two criminals whispered to his companion.

“You see him?”

“Yes,” the first figure said while gazing up from the shadows at the form which was crouching on the rooftop like a spider. “He knows we’re somewhere around here.”

“Shoot. Can’t do anything with that loser around,” the fellow known as Jack mumbled along with more curses than should be mentioned.

“If I had a gun I’d send that fellow falling to hell. Let’s get out of here.”

They both slinked away and into deeper shadows, eventually coming upon an old garage they, and a few other men of similar occupation, called home. Making their way to the back left, they and sat down in the midst of a couple tents, cots, and random junk. They sat in silence for a moment, not noticing the third figure who had followed them in, and made himself a comfortable seat in their dwelling. Finally, he spoke.

“I suppose y’all wouldn’t be interested in keeping your ‘jobs’ now would you?” He asked.

Jack instantly pounded his fist into a nearby switch, and a pair of overhead lights flickered on. The man, who was now reveled, was arrayed in dark scale like armor, along with a black mask that covered the lower half of his fave, and two swords were also strapped to his back.

“Creeping devil you followed us here!” He shouted while jumping to his feet and raising a wrench above his head.

“Hold up fellows,” the stranger said with a wave of his hands. “I am most certainly not in league with any of those dreamful boys who think they can roam the streets and diminish your plans. Fools, I’m only here to help you.”

“Lier,” Jack’s companion snorted.

“Lier? Perhaps, but never the less what I speak now is true. Do you want my assistance, or not? The choice is yours.”

“Oh yes, we’d follow you straight into the prison cell am I right? It’s for our own good eh? Shut up you—” a deep voice cut him off.

“No Jack, he’s right.” And into the light he stepped, Ashton, their gang leader. His gruff countenance was intimidating, and he had won the respect of many other similar minded people.

“Ashton, what?” Jack wasn’t sure how to ask, or what to think.

“He’s not with them as he said, and he is for us. Listen to him.”

“Thank you,” the stranger said with a nod. “Now, if you’ed like my help, meet me at the Carter Plaza on Thursday. Oh, and for every man you bring with you,” he reached into a pocket and pulled out two gold coins, flipping them in their direction. “Be sure they are, trustworthy.” He smiled, and walked away. Leaving the men in a slight wonder, and trying to hide their mischievous smiles.


Tristan, along with Chris, Hope, Robert, and McRen all sat at the kitchen table, and talked. They had all become very dedicated to their group over the past month or so, and really had started to become a well working team. The ninja would go out and fight in the streets, while Hope would stay behind on the computer scouting out traffic, events, and anything else she could view that might possibly be helpful. One of these things was actually a set of cameras they had set up in more deserted parts of the city. Hope could both monitor criminal activity, and get footage of the ninja, along with other things. However, they were now discussing a slight issue at hand. The crime had, not gradually, but suddenly dropped to an extremely low rate.

“It’s just not realistic,” Robert was saying. “It should be expected that crime might decrease with our efforts, but not overnight.”

“So you think there is more to this,” McRen asked with a raise of his eyebrows. It was obvious he was fixed on his own opinion, which he hadn’t shared yet.

“Yes, I do. I mean, I’ve even noticed strange behavior among the fellows I’ve seen in the street. They seam cautious, watchful, and as I’ve stated before I have even seen large groups looking over shops and street corners. It’s like they are planning something, in my opinion.”

“I agree,” Chris added. There wasn’t much point in him saying anything, for he had shared his opinion more than once, but he just had to say something.

McRen’s eyebrows sunk, and then rose again as he looked at Hope.

“And you?”

“Well,” she looked down at her phone and began to scroll through something. “Here it is,” she said after about a minute, holding it up for all of them to see. It was a video, one of the many alleyways they roamed during the nights. A group of thuggish looking characters walked by, and then it stopped.

“I don’t get it,” Tristan stated while tapping his finger against the half empty mug of tea McRen had offered him.

“Watch again,” she responded, and did this multiple times. Finally, McRen piped up.

“I see what you’re after. They all have the same black strap tied around their right arm.”

“Oh, so what?” Chris asked before Hope could confirm McRen’s guess, which seeing as how it had come from McRen really wasn’t a guess at all.

Robert spoke up. “Yeah, I hate to burst your bubble Hope, but gangs often have some kinda identifying symbol. Usually it’s like a tattoo or something.”

“I know that, but there is more.” She took a sip of tea before continuing. “From what I’ve picked up from the cameras, and other sources I can get, none of these thugs have done any crimes, at least not recently. The men that have committed crimes in the past week have not worn this strap.”

McRen stroked his beard, nodding slowly.

“Do you have any more similar footage?” Asked Tristan as he leaned back into his chair. It was getting late, and the word ‘bed’ was sounding really good at the moment.

“Yes, I do. I’ve even identified some of the same faces.”

Suddenly, a strong gust of wind blew in from and open window. A few leaves fluttered about the room for a split second, eventually resting on the old wooden floor.

“A storm is coming now, and I have a plan besides that,” McRen said as he raised himself up from his chair.

“Whats that?” Chris asked as they all followed their master in the same action, and Hope naturally started clearing cups.

“There is a bar, a despicable place actually, located in probably the most despicable part of town. Though I would never have suggested it before, I feel the need for one of us to go there.”

“I’ll do it,” Tristan said before there was even time for contemplation.

McRen’s eyebrows raised and he all but chuckled.

“You are quite bold aren’t you,” he said with a shake of his head.

“I’ll go with you bro,” Chris added.

“No, whoever goes should go alone. They will need to disguise themself, and have much decrement. It is quite a despicable place.” A solum look shadowed his face.

“Why go at all then?” Hope asked gently.

“Do you not feel the need for urgency Hope? Have you not been the ones explaining to me why something is brewing?”

“So we do share opinions?” Robert ask, a crooked smile on his face.

“Yes, we most certainly do. I am not one to quickly trust feelings children, but I can’t help but have a hunch that something is most certainly wrong. The bar will have plenty of information, yes, whoever goes would be able to discover as least enough to further our progress.”

“I”m still going,” Tristan said with his eyes gazing towards floor. The room went quiet, except for the small rustle of wind outside.

“Well then,” McRen said, ripping the vial the silence. “We have work to do, come with me.”

Goodbye, God bless, Greenflame24!
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