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179635 No. 179635
It was a nice, Saturday afternoon. And you were sitting comfortably in front of your computer.

It might be a bit hasty, but you had somehow find yourself with quite a significant amount of disposable income.

You were thinking of getting something nice for yourself, so you opened your browser and went to an auction site.

After surfing for half an hour, you found a few items that caught your interest.

You could only afford one, though.

So you picked;

[ ] A swiss army knife,

[ ] Bulletproof smartphone casing.

[ ] Bulletproof wristwatch.

[ ] A Mossin-Nagant.

[ ] A knife called 'The Skallcleaver'.

[ ] An authentic replica of Abraham Lincoln's longcoat.

[ ] A baseball cap with gothic design and the word 'SIN' boldly embroidered on it.

[ ] An automatic sunglasses that goes dark every time it's exposed to a blinding light.

[ ] A red crowbar.

[ ] A white helmet leftover from a British motorshow.

[ ] An authentic replica of Teddy Roosevelt's shotgun.

[ ] A steel toed boots.

[ ] An electric cigarette,

[ ] An Ipod.

[ ] A silver knuckles.

[ ] An authentic replica of George Washington's woodaxe.

[ ] An unbreakable umbrella.

[ ] A bisque doll.

[ ] Chuck Norris' old hat.

[ ] A supposedly cursed knife of Mpu Gandring.

[ ] An authentic replica of Barrack Obama's sacrificial dagger.

No. 179636
[X] An unbreakable umbrella.
No. 179637
I'm torn between umbrella and doll. I guess I'll go with

[x]An unbreakable umbrella
No. 179638
[X] A red crowbar. With " Property of Black Mesa" engraved on its length.
No. 179639
I can already tell this is going to be a trainwreck.
No. 179640
[X] A baseball cap with gothic design and the word 'SIN' boldly embroidered on it.
No. 179641
[x] 1943 Ishevek Mosin-Nagant M44.

One of the very first 50,000. Needs to be a bit special
No. 179642
[X] An authentic replica of Abraham Lincoln's longcoat.

Although "[ ] An authentic replica of Barrack Obama's sacrificial dagger." IS rather tempting.
No. 179643
[X] A red crowbar. With " Property of Black Mesa" engraved on its length.
No. 179644
[x] An unbreakable umbrella
No. 179646
[X] An unbreakable umbrella.

Eh, alright.
No. 179647
[x] A white helmet leftover from a British motorshow.

Some say he's a layabout who got the helmet off the internet, others that he's a real american badass. All we know is he's called The Stig.
No. 179648
[x] A white helmet leftover from a British motorshow.

I'll be disappointed in all of THP if The Stig doesn't happen.
No. 179649

>OP trying to play up American badassitude.
>Voters go for British character.

Never change, THP.
No. 179650
[X] A white helmet leftover from a British motorshow.

The previous votes for this has convinced me that this is the best idea ever.
No. 179652
[x] An adorkable unbreakable umbrella.
You can go wrong with those
No. 179653
[X] A white helmet leftover from a British motorshow.

Yeah, this is the only path.
No. 179655
[ ] An unbreakable umbrella.
No. 179656
[X] A white helmet leftover from a British motorshow.

I want this.
No. 179657
Calling it for the umbrella.
No. 179665
You are sitting comfortably on your sofa, in your well lit living room.

On your lap, there is a plain, somewhat lengthy package about a hand and a half long. It was delivered to your front door just this morning, and you are eager to open it right after you got back home from your business at early in the evening.

Inside, you find the umbrella you ordered, in the color you ordered, all nicely wrapped in a thin sheet of plastic.

Alongside the umbrella, you find a piece of paper detailing the exact specification of your newly bought portable rooftop.

The paper proudly thanks you in a big bold letters (some in Comic Sans, even.) that you have bought the one and truly unbreakable umbrella.

According to the paper, the shaft and the ribs of the unbreakable umbrella are made of 'highly specialized' titanium alloy, with the exact composition of metal meticulously calculated to make them a guaranteed indestructible. The paper says that at worst, they would simply bend, which should be easily fixed.

The fabric that makes the body of the umbrella, the part that supposed to protect you from the rain, is based of an even more exotic material, something called a 'Self-healing' Polymer'. A quick Wiki walk on your smartphone tells you that this means the fabric, if it ever experienced any form of damage, would simply fix themselves to an almost pristine condition without any form of outside intervention.

It is also supposedly coated with hydrophobic substance. You know from science class that this means that the umbrella would be almost impossible to get dirtied. Or being wet, for that mater.

Though the paper does not specify what the cane-shaped handle is made of (you speculate some sort of galvanized rubber), it does clearly specify what the tip (the pointy bit) of the umbrella is made of; carbon nanotubes. The paper says that this is so that the tip would not simply wears off after a prolonged use and ends up looking terrible, but you know that this would also means that this umbrella is very good for stabbing people with.

You lift the umbrella at both ends with your hands, until it comes up to your eye level. It doesn't look any different from any other umbrella, albeit maybe slightly more thinner and elegant-looking.

You try to balance it on your index finger, trying to find its center of gravity. You find it somewhere at the middle, maybe a little bit more to the front. That's pretty good. You could use that center of gravity as a fulcrum to spin it around, as a weight to bash people's head with, or as a center point if you feel more like the stabbing kind of guy.

Overall, a pretty solid buy, at least if the specification printed on this piece of paper is accurate. And apparently, it comes with a five year, total refund guarantee that doesn't include 'Abusive application' in its void terms. How nice.

You are just about to see how the umbrella would look like when it is fully opened, when you hear footsteps coming from the back of your house. That is strange, because you supposed to live alone.

The footsteps are clearly made by a two legged creature, judging from the sound. So it can't be a mere vermin like a rat or a badger. Could it be a thief? You should check.

You grab your supposedly unbreakable umbrella and silently walk towards the backside of your domicile. When you arrive at the corridor that connects your bedroom and your entertainment center, you come upon a puddle of strange, blackish-red liquid scattered on the floor.

You crouched to examine the puddle closer. You touch the liquid. It's still wet. And when you smell your fingers, it is now smell of iron.

That's funny. You don't remember anyone bled to death in your house (or having a catastrophic period) anytime in the last two month.

You have decided to grab a mop and maybe do some cleaning up, when you hear something that makes you wish that you had accepted that house insurance offer your cousin had given to you.

The noise of the hammer of an MP being pulled back.

[ ] Ambush?

[ ] Approach?
No. 179666

Normal bullets won't do shit against the umbrella, so it's relatively safe.
No. 179668
No. 179669
The polymer that makes up the umbrella's fabric is self-repairing, NOT bullet proof.
No. 179671

[x] ambush
No. 179672
[x] Ambush
No. 179673
[X] Approach
No. 179674
[X] Ambush

The MP5 doesn't give me much hope of a friendly greeting.
No. 179676
Are these the same anon?
No. 179679
I would probably going for daily short updates here, so I'll just call it for ambush.
No. 179681

No, not the same.


Yeah, just noticed only ribs and shaft are indestructible. Did not know these words before looking them up
No. 179685
You decided that this is a good opportunity to test your newly acquired umbrella.

Though when going against full fledged firearms, you believe that an extra measure of caution is needed.

So for now, you simply retreat to your bedroom, and proceed to hide inside the closet, leaving only the tiniest of gap to look through.

You waited for barely half a minute before the door to your room is opened again by someone else, and three fully armed men barge in.

You quickly take a gander at their equipments. Dark ceramic plates body armors, These people are professionals (or at least very well funded), though their gears are somewhat lighter than full combat gears like what they would wore back in Iraq. They also wear gas masks. Spec Ops?

Their guns seems to be a variant of the MP10 attached with suppressors and other tid-bits like red dot and reflex sight...tough they are moving way too much for you to determine the exact models...

Suddenly, one of them kicks the door that lead to your personal bathroom straight off its hinges (asshat), and all three men storms in.

When they get out, they are carrying someone else with them. A girl, Asian, about university age, if your judgment is to be believed.

She has a shoulder length black hair, barefooted, and is wearing a white shirt and black trousers. Those are about the only features of her that you could make out with her surrounded by three burly military men about twice her size. Two of them are holding both of her arms tightly. So tightly that she's practically got lifted from the ground, her legs dangling uselessly off the floor.

The third man is standing behind the rest of them, holding his gun firmly against the poor girl's head.

'Target acquired, requesting extraction.' the third man said, presumably to an earpiece attached to his gas mask.

The girl, you noticed, is not giving any form of meaningful resistance. She's not by far cooperative, if her stiff, unmoving legs are of any indication, but otherwise she seems to be letting herself to be dragged around by these men.

You can't clearly see her expression since her bang is covering her eyes, but her body movements makes it as if she had already lost all hope of getting away.


You don't know how you didn't notice it the first time you saw the girl being dragged out of your bathroom, but the side of her white shirt, just under her right armpit, is covered in wet, dark red.

You suspect that this girl is the one responsible for that mess back on your corridor.

What you should do now, you wonder?

[ ] Purposely make some noise to attract their attention?

[ ] Wait, stalk, and see? maybe you can get more information about what exactly going on if you tail these guys for a while.

[ ] "Gentlemen." *Ocular stab-ation.*
No. 179692
[X ] "Gentlemen." *Ocular stab-ation.*
No. 179695
[x] Wait, stalk, and see? maybe you can get more information about what exactly going on if you tail these guys for a while.
No. 179697
[x] Wait, stalk, and see? maybe you can get more information about what exactly going on if you tail these guys for a while.
- [x] Whatever happens, don't lose sight of them.

That last part was probably unnecessary, but I'm feeling paranoid.
No. 179699
[x] Wait, stalk, and see? maybe you can get more information about what exactly going on if you tail these guys for a while.
No. 179700
[x] Await confirmation of hostility towards the girl, if so, engage immediatly.

For all we know they could be helping her. Bah, who am I kidding: I just want to be careful and precise in a story that was meant to produce a guns blazing bastard.
No. 179704
[X] Wait, stalk, and see? maybe you can get more information about what exactly going on if you tail these guys for a while.
No. 179705
[x] Wait, stalk, and see? maybe you can get more information about what exactly going on if you tail these guys for a while.
- [x] Whatever happens, don't lose sight of them.

Paranoia is a good thing innit?
No. 179706
[x] Wait, stalk, and see? maybe you can get more information about what exactly going on if you tail these guys for a while.
No. 179710
Calling for stalk.
No. 179713
You have decided to wait and see.

You saw the three heavily armed men dragged the girl out of your room with little to no resistance. It seems like they would be able finish their 'mission' without any meaningful hitch.

But then, unexpectedly, they made a sudden stop at the the middle of the corridor. And from the open door of your room, you saw one of them pointed inside your entertainment center.

"Grab that laptop." said one of the men holding the girl's arm, clearly yet quietly. "We need to make it looks like a regular robbery." continued that same man.

Hearing that order, the third man that was holding his gun firmly towards the girl's head, walked inside your entertainment center, and when he walked out, he was holding your laptop with just one hand, like it was the most worthless thing in the world.

It seems like they would be taking your laptop if you just continued to stay still. What would you do?

[ ] Quick and painless.

[ ] Unnecessarily brutal.

[ ] Be patient... 2 3 5 7 11 13 17 19 23 29 31 37 41 43 47 53 59 61 67 71....
No. 179715
[x]Quick and painless

Must not damage our computer
No. 179721
[X] Be patient... 2 3 5 7 11 13 17 19 23 29 31 37 41 43 47 53 59 61 67 71....

I think it would be better to just tail them. What are we gonna do? Whack them with the umbrella?
No. 179722
[x] Be patient... 2 3 5 7 11 13 17 19 23 29 31 37 41 43 47 53 59 61 67 71....
- [x] Call the police at the first opportunity.

If it were just one guy, sure. If it were two, maybe, especially if the girl would fight back. Three, all armed, with backup on the way? Not so much. (Tail them, though, that we can probably do.)

And they don't have the police on their side or in their pocket, or else they wouldn't have to make this "look[] like a regular robbery".
No. 179723
[x] Be patient... 2 3 5 7 11 13 17 19 23 29 31 37 41 43 47 53 59 61 67 71....
- [x] Call the police at the first opportunity.
No. 179724
>[ ] A Mossin-Nagant.
No. 179725
[x] quick and painless
-[x] keep one alive for questioning.
No. 179726
[x] Be patient... 2 3 5 7 11 13 17 19 23 29 31 37 41 43 47 53 59 61 67 71....
- [x] Call the police at the first opportunity.
No. 179727
[x] Be patient... 2 3 5 7 11 13 17 19 23 29 31 37 41 43 47 53 59 61 67 71....
- [x] Call the police at the first opportunity.
No. 179728
>A badass is you
>Call the police

No. 179729
[X] quick and painless
-[X]try to steal a weapon for more killing power
No. 179731
Calling it for 'being patient', and i think I might just found a way for our MC to be able to 'call the police' while still being badass.

Is this my fault?
No. 179734
And there goes your laptop.

You are feeling rather bad right now.

Quite bad, actually.

In the scale of badness, you'd say you are feeling somewhere between Hiroshima and annoying ten year old from an online voice chat trying to court you.

But to just charge in blindly against three heavily armed men with only an umbrella as a weapon is definitely not something anyone sane would considers as 'tactically sound'.

So to calm yourself, you start counting prime numbers.

When you are sure that your 'unexpected guests' have already left your house, you quickly and quietly run to the front of your house, and to your window. Opening the curtain just enough to look outside, all the while being very careful so your silhouette won't be seen from the outside, you see the three men hauling the girl into what seems to be a regular delivery van. You quickly memorize their plate number, though it probably won't be of any importance after this night is over.

And then the men climbs in, close the doors, and the van drives off, all of those done in a very professional manner.

You waste no time and quickly run back to your room. You quickly put on your shoes that you have stashed under your bed, and then, you pull out your hoodie from the inside of your closet, the one with hood large enough to hide your eyes. The jeans you are currently wearing should suffice for the night.

Now, let's begin the chasing.

You grab your phone and wallet and throw it inside your bag/satchel/man-purse, and proceed to go outside, not even bothering to lock the door because you assume your back door is already kicked in anyway.

You retrieve your phone from your bag, and proceed to call 911.

'911. Can I help you.' Said the noise of a middle aged woman from the other end of the line.

"yes." you said. With a slightly deeper voice than usual. "I'm seeing this crazy hoodlum wearing a hoodie and holding some sort of javelin going around my neighborhood kicking trash can and such. I think someone need to do something about it. Presumably someone that gets paid by my tax money."

You usually don't speak like that, of course.

Anyway, she asked where you are, and you gave her an address.

"A ruffian case, huh? We get a lot of those lately. We will dispatch an officer immediately. In the meantime, lock the door and try not to attract his or her attention."

"Yes. You do that."

You press the red button, and wait.

After about ten minutes or so, a single police car appears from the end of the street. Easily noticeable because you live in a quiet neighborhood. At this time of the night, there rarely any car on the street.

You run and approach the police car on the middle of the street, blocking their way,

The two officers inside instantly recognize you as the 'hooded ruffian' mentioned in their report. And one of them quickly get out and approach you.

You keep your head down so your hood would keep covering your eyes, preventing you from being identified right away.

"Excuse me, sir..? could I see your id card, please?"

You noticed his hesitation at the word 'sir'. That's good. This means you haven't been identified yet.


The officer called to you once again, stepping closer to you.

You stay quiet.

"excuse me, sir?" he stepped closer.

That's close enough.


You lift your umbrella from the ground, and jammed it back.

The officer's scream cuts the silence of the night like a knife as his toe got prematurely amputated.

You spin your umbrella around its fulcrum, and bash that officer on the side of the head with maximum momentum.

As the officer fall, your free hand moves rapidly, relieving his pistol from its holster.

The officer hit the ground like a sack of potato, unconscious.

You pull back the hammer of your newly acquired Glock 17, and discover that the other officer had already done the same, and now he's using the car's door as a cover, as of standard procedure.

He's pointing his gun at your head.

'Drop your weapon' he said. How classic.

You point your gun at him.

He fires his gun.

But you had already eyeing his trigger finger, and move your body just in time to feel his bullet flies past your right ear.

"You shouldn't do that." You whispered as you open fire.

The second officer falls as a 9x19 Parabellum pierces his shoulder.

You walk around the car and grab the second's gun from the ground, then proceed to get on the driver's seat.

As you about to close the door, you look at the writhing, squirming officer on the ground, desperately holding to his bullet wound. You give him a two fingers salute.


You close the door, grab the steering wheel, wiggle the gear stick, and hit the accelerator.

Excessive G-force hit your body as you perform a very good example of a J-turn maneuver and drives off, leaving the two officers behind. You expect about ten minutes before they could recover.

When you arrived at the end of the street, you grab your phone again.

'911, what is your emergency?'

Different voice answered this time.

"Yes, I would like to report a stolen car."

You give her the plate number of the van.

'Your car has been listed as Grand Theft Auto. We'll inform you when we find it.'


You keep on driving aimlessly, until the van's plate number is suddenly mentioned on the car's built-in two way radio.

To all officers near ---, stolen car spotted at ---, plate number is---

Your brain quickly memorizes all of the new informations.

You grab the radio's mouthpiece and press the button.

"This is car 63." you said, referring to the number painted on the side of the car.

You shift to top gear, and hear the engine roars.

"I am in pursuit."





Hey, have I ever established the gender of our MC? If I haven't, then;

[ ] Male.
-Ambiguous looking trap.

[ ] Female.
-Tomboyish type.
No. 179735
[X] Male.
-Ambiguous looking trap.

We already got a tomboyish type chick over in /forest/.

Also, I gotta hand it to ya NewbNewt; that WAS pretty badass.
No. 179736
[X] Male.
No. 179737
[x] Female.
[x]-Tomboyish type.

No. 179740
[X] Male.
-Ambiguous looking trap.

Good work. It's nice to see something other than "random dude gets tossed into Gensoukyo and somehow fails to die".
No. 179741
[x] Female.
-[x] Tomboyish when we need to be.

Not that I've read nearly enough around here to be able to answer this myself, but when's the last time we had a super-badass female lead?

Did I mention that was badass? That was badass.
No. 179742
[X] Male.
-Ambiguous looking trap.

Good work. It's nice to see something other than "random dude gets tossed into Gensoukyo and somehow fails to die".
No. 179743
[x] Male.
-Ambiguous looking trap.

Assaulting two Police Officers and stealing their car inbetween two false 911 calls just to catch up to someone that stole our Laptop?

This should be fun.
No. 179745
[x] Male.
-Ambiguous looking trap.
This went in the opposite direction I thought it would.
No. 179746
[x] Male.
-Ambiguous looking trap.
No. 179748
[X] Male

Because why not.
No. 179757
[x] Male.
-Ambiguous looking trap.

Toe amputation. Not sure how I feel about that.
It was cool though, I'll give you that.
Surely, MC has enough competence for us to pick [x]Attack in the future.
No. 179758
You have been awarded the prestigious "Spirit Of The Vote" award for your faithful dedication to the will of the people. To divine that when the people said "be patient and call the police", they meant "Beat up two innocent police officers and steal their car" displays a remarkable level of insight and a deep ability to understand and relate to your voters. I hope your writing continues to display this level of excellence.
No. 179759
[X] Male.
No. 179760
Watch out for sarcasm overload, broski.

In all seriousness, though, this guy has a point. You get a free pass this time because your particular interpretation was quite badass, but next time try to stick more closely to what we vote. Otherwise we will feel kinda cheated and stop thinking of write-ins, because we'll believe you'll distort them to the point it's far from what we wanted to do - even if it's to make badass scenes.
No. 179762
Bah, fuck you both.
There are two types of MCs: those that obey us to the letter and those who take our advice as guidelines. This is the latter and I like it very much for it. It gives the writer more freedom and the MC a more tangible personality while leaving the final choices to us.
We were silent in regards of our targets and that is enough.

-[x] feminine looks
No. 179764
Everyone seems to ignore that the writing isn't even that good. Not only that, but it's obviously riding off the boner everyone has for Wizard. I mean, really? Couldn't even come up with an original title?
No. 179765

Well, just by seeing the title, the bar of expectation was already set pretty low, isn't it?
No. 179767

"A(n) X is you" is a pretty common naming convention for CYoAs. It has nothing to do with AWiY.
No. 179768
So? I'm in this for the ride. Because right now, it's one hell of a ride.
No. 179769
>You get a free pass this time because your particular interpretation was quite badass,
No. No, he really doesn't.

It's not just a total subversion of the write-in's intent. Assaulting two police officers is not something one would expect to be casually consequence-free. If you don't intend to handwave away those consequences, you have subverted it in such a way as to fuck us over. If you do intend to handwave them away, you are a terrible writer, in the specific sense that you are not capable of making a coherent narrative.

It also makes no sense from a characterization standpoint: it reaches well beyond the bounds of credulity to claim that someone who's going to call up a couple of police officers solely in order to attack them and steal their car -- a course of action with immediately obvious short- and long-term risks which, as in the previous objection, can more accurately described as "consequences" -- is going to have waited patiently in the closet, instead of, say, attacking the intruders.

The best word for this is not "badass". "Grimderp" is much more appropriate.
No. 179771
It's more than enough for the site to be honest. Par per course I'd say.
No. 179774
It's already 10 minutes past since you assaulted two police officers near your home and left them on the middle of the street.

And as expected, now you are being chased by about five police cars with their sirens on.

'Civilian inside the stolen police vehicle! said a voice from their loudspeaker. Pull over and turn off your engine!

You ignore their voice and pull your hood tighter over your head, just in case this scene ends up in World's Wildest Police Chases.

Oh, who are you kidding. If this goes as planned, you know this is going to somehow ends up in World's Wildest Police Chases.

You're on a highway, with about dozens of other civilian vehicles around you at all times. This means the police cannot simply open fire at you.

Guess you're lucky that the men you are chasing chose to use the highway. They must be valuing speed more than subtlety, at least for this particular 'mission'.

You drive like a madman past trucks, saloons, and SUVs, slipping through the tiniest gap between them in a speed most people would consider suicidal.


Alright, now, if the report was accurate, you should find that van somewhere around...ah, there it is.

A couple of yards in front of you, you see the van that you've been looking for. An unremarkable white van with inconspicuous logo painted on its side advertising a delivery company.

You flip the switch that turns on your own siren on your own stolen police car, and proceed to floor the accelerator.

The five other police cars chasing you follow suit, and with you at the front, all six of you are now tailing the van at a very close proximity.

Now, here comes the center point of your plan.

From their standpoint, they are being chased by six police cars and about to be arrested. Your plan hinged on their reaction.

'Now, what would you do?', you whispered.


Nothing, apparently. The van still drives on like normal. Maybe they drive a little bit faster, but otherwise, they don't act as if they are being chased.

Maybe they would require a little more persuasion.

You grab your pre-cocked Glock 17, open your window just enough for your arm to come through, and open fire at their tires.

Patrol five to central. Suspect is armed and is currently firing at a civilian vehicle.

The voice from the police radio does not bother you. This is still within your plan.

You slow down a little, giving the other police cars time to catch up while at the same time giving a little bit of gap between you and the van.

'Now, what would you do?' you repeated.

Suddenly, the van's doors open.

Revealing a man holding an RPG-7.


Oh, you're going to do that.

'Classic.' you whispered again as your brain overclocks to find a way to not being exploded.

You didn't plan of this, but you're nothing if not adaptable.

You quickly pulls the switch on the side of your door and open the passenger's window.

You pull on the handbrake while at the same time slamming the steering wheel to the left, launching the back of your car forward and to a sudden stop.

You reach to the side of your seat and find the seat adjuster. You pull it and at the same time push against the back of the chair with your own back, as strong as you can.

And with a loud noise you would expect from standing near a rocket powered explosive at point blank range, you can feel the interior of your car heats up as the antitank artillery ammunition enter through your window, flies past your face, and comes out from the other window...


...and hit the police car behind you in a giant firework of metal and chaos.

You...did not expecting that. Whoops.

The explosion gives you enough distraction to let you hit the gas pedal to maximum and continue your chase.

Three police cars are now chasing you. One probably stays back to look for survivor from the fifth car and deals with the traffic.


Oh, well.

You direct your attention once again to the police radio.

Central to patrol five. What happened.

Patrol five to central. Car 26 has been taken down with handheld artillery. Officers presumed dead.

Being a public servant has a surprisingly high fatality risk, you know.


Guh. you actually feel kind of bad about this. Maybe you should give some money to the police charity later.

As you keep on driving, you continue to listen closely to the police's radio.

Handheld artillery? From the suspect?

No. From the civilian vehicle. It's a white delivery van. I saw about three well-armed men inside. Requesting backup.

You hear only minor static as the request is being considered.

And then...

Request granted. This is central to all vehicles in the Alderney area. Possible terrorists suspects spotted in---. They are armed and in possession of handheld artillery. Proceed with caution. Use of lethal force granted. First priority to the white delivery van. Suspect inside car 63 might be an accomplice. Second priority.

Huh. Glad they don't just forget about you.

Anti-terror squad ETA five minutes.


[ ] Stick close near the van, and let the police concentrate their resources.

[ ] Stay back. Getting hit with RPG is not fun.

[ ] Separate. Only idiots want to go face to face with the United States anti-terror squad.
No. 179775
[x] Separate. Only idiots want to go face to face with a United States anti-terror squad.

Yeah, I think we've properly ruined the day of whoever stole our Laptop, time to go.
No. 179776
[x] Stick close near the van, and let the police concentrate their resources.
Laptop status: not retrieved. This is not acceptable.
No. 179777
[X] Stick close near the van, and let the police concentrate their resources.
[X]Use the radio, inform the police they keep your wounded girlfriend hostage.
We don't want our precious laptop to get some nasty dose of "lethal force", do we ?
No. 179778
[x] Stick close near the van, and let the police concentrate their resources.

Actually, if we let them handle everything, they're gonna take the computer.
That would be bad in more than one way.
No. 179782
[x] Stick close near the van, and let the police concentrate their resources.
- [x]Use the radio to inform the police that they have your wounded girlfriend hostage.

They don't know there's a civilian with these guys. For her safety, we should let them know. I'd hate to see something bad happen to her because of us.
No. 179786
[x] Stick close near the van, and let the police concentrate their resources.

NFSMW flashbacks
No. 179788
[x] Stick close near the van, and let the police concentrate their resources.

Can't let the police access your internet history, you know.

We don't even know who the person they kidnapped is. For all we know she's a double-terrorist or something, and the regular terrorists are doing the world a favor by disposing of her.
No. 179789
So? We can decide that for ourselves. Or let the police handle her after we're done. For now, though, we can't really say she's not innocent, either.
No. 179791

Regardless of the chick's circumstances, I think our laptop's safety takes precedence.

[x] Stick close near the van, and let the police concentrate their resources.
- [x]Use the radio to inform the police that they have your wounded girlfriend hostage.
No. 179802
"They have my lapto-I mean girlfriend hostage!"
No. 179807
what's a double terrorist?
No. 179808
A double terrorist is a terrorist that other people are trying to stop by committing terrorism. For example, if we were to consider the protagonists actions terrorism, the terrorists would already be double terrorists, and then if the terrorists were being terrorists to try and stop the girl's terrorism, the girl would be a triple terrorist.
No. 179809

(Put an obligatory Inception joke here.)
No. 179811

"Whoa". You gasped in exasperation as your side view mirror suddenly gets murdered.

Yeah, remember when you said that the police cannot simply open fire at you since there are a lot of civilian vehicles around? Well, now there are no civilians around whatsoever since they've blocked the road, and when you glance up at your rear view mirror, you see that the darkness of the night has been beaten back by a sea of blue and red light, producing a wave of deafening noise enough to wake up Led Zeppelin from their grave.

That, and the fact that apparently SWAT helicopter snipers don't give a flaming fuck.

You hear a distant 'bang', and reflexively slam the wheel to the left. You feel a slight relief when you realize that you are not dead, but you are back to full adrenaline when you see the hole at the passenger's seat.


High caliber sniper rifle could really mess up your body, and if it hit one of your tires, gearbox, or engine block, you are done for.

You can barely see the pair of black helicopters hovering steadily in the sky. You suspect that they must be the advance team. Soon, you would expect some black armored vehicles to show up.

In front of you, the van seems to be doing much better than you have expected, despite being the focus of most of the sniper fire. Behind the mundane look, you suspect that the van is actually highly armored, since their tires seems to be doing fine, even when you are sure that your shot then hit.

Also, their driver must be Russian, because that driving style clearly says 'Meh, I want to die anyways.'

Still, something precious might get destroyed if the van keep on being shot at with such intensity, so you decide that you should tell the police to calm down a bit.

"Dudududu~." You hummed to adjust the tone of your voice, making it higher, as high as a hippie senior college girl.

You grab the radio once again.

"Car number 63! I order you to-

"Yeah, yeah." You cut her off with your own female voice. "Just want to let you know that they have a civilian inside that van. You might want to take that info into consideration before you start firing away like jackasses. Come on, people. You are not the army, right?"

You cut off communication and wait.

Then, after a while...

"Central to joint strike team. We have a possible hostage situation with the primary target. All vehicles, focus fire to secondary target. Let the SWAT handle the van."


Okay, that was a bad decision.

The van had already closed its doors, and the people inside are now firing their small arms at the horde of police cars behind them, including you, through two small windows on the doors.

To make things more difficult, some of the police cars behind you has now started to open fire. You are currently being sandwiched between two barrages of pistol caliber bullets, and both of your bonnet and your booth have already had more holes than a dozen of British crackers. Fortunately, it's only small caliber bullets and police cars are generally very though. If you are driving carefully enough (meaning being borderline bugfuck insane), you think you should be able to keep the car going for...another ten minutes or so, assuming the snipers don't blow your head off.


Suddenly, you hear a very loud noise from a place very uncomfortably near.

You look aside, and through your window, you see that it was coming from the klaxon of a Super Heavy class tanker truck, driving alongside you, matching your speed despite its size being comparable to a sideway skyscraper on wheels.

"What the..?"

"Civilian inside the tanker truck! Move away from the area of engagement immediately!"

Your overworked brain tries to comprehend what is happening right in front of your eyes. Indeed, why would a tanker truck, presumably full of highly volatile material, willingly drives into what is clearly an area where tanker truck are the last thing you want to see around?


> Full of highly volatile material.


As to confirm your suspicion, the van doors open once more, revealing once again a man holding a shoulder mounted rocket launcher, except this time, he's not aiming at you.

He is aiming at the tanker truck.

[ ] Hit the brakes.

[ ] Floor it!
Note: The truck is pretty fast, and judging from its size, the explosion radius would be pretty big. There are chances that you would be caught in the explosion. If you vote for this option, please grab a coin or other two sided object, assign side A and side B, spin it, and post the result.
No. 179812
Hmm, decisions decisions,

If we brake, well, theres a horde of red and blue with a dash of black behind us, so thats a problem. If we floor it, we may succeed or we get an involuntary facial surgery.

My POV? I'll go with the option that at least has a chance of succeeding at the goal!

[X] Floor it!
My Coin Toss resulted in A
No. 179813
I laughed at the write-in biting us in the ass.

By the way, I'm not sure why, but I've never seen greentext in a story before. Maybe it's frowned upon like so much other stuff, I don't know, be careful.

Coin says
[x]Floor it
No. 179814
[x] Floor it!
Result: A
No. 179818
[x] Floor it!

My PS Vita landed on the B side.
No. 179821
[x] Floor it!
Result: A
No. 179823
I've decided to make some crude illustrations in MSpaint to give you guys a better picture of what is/has going on so far, since I know that my descriptive prowess is kind of lacking. You might want to consult to it once in a while, since I'm going to make new illustration every times we'll need to make a tactical vote. What do you think?


"This night just went absolute mental, isn't it?"

You switch to top gear and slam your foot on the accelerator pedal.

The roar of the battered, shot-to-heck engine fills the interior of the car, re-vibrating from the chassis and flows through your entire body. You feel the sudden acceleration pushing your back against your seat as the car leaps forward like a stung stallion.

You drive forward until you are side by side with the van, managing to match its speed just before a rocket is released from its back.

What you experience after is probably one of the most impressive displays of road-based firework you have ever witnessed.

The first thing you feel is the faster than sound shockwave hitting the back of your car, lifting your rear wheels and costing you some ground traction.

The second thing you feel, just a microsecond after, is the thunderous sound giving you one heck of a tinnitus. Its is so loud, it's like Zeus himself has a lightning boner pointed blank directly at your eardrums.

You glance up at your rear view mirror, and witness the road behind you turned into the brightest inferno this side of Michael Bay.

In that five seconds, you realize just how serious these guys you are chasing are. With one, felt swoop, they managed to lost the entire police division chasing the two of you. You listen to the people on the radio goes to a state of absolute panic, trying to contact each other in a sea of batshit insanity and static waves. They are completely useless now.

Now, the only pursuers you can see are the two black helicopters up above, following the two vehicles like a pair of hungry vultures.

The helicopters would never let the van (and you) out of their sight. You wonder what the men in the van would do now?

You keep tailing the van closely, until they unexpectedly veers to the right and towards the highway's exit.

You follow them and exit the highway yourself, and keep on following them until you find yourself driving through a suburban area somewhere at the edge of the city. You did not realize that you've been driving that much of a distance. The adrenaline must have skewed your perception of time.

You know of this area, since it's located very near to a train track, and thus, it has a very low property value. You've actually been thinking to buy your first house here, before you decided that a good night sleep is more valuable than a new gaming rig.

Unexpectedly, the van turns sharply to the right, go through someone's garden, and disappears between the gap of the houses.

"Oh, no, no, no, you are not losing me. Not after all this."

You corner sharply to the right, ruining somebody's patch of Morning Glories, and drive between the gap of the houses.

Then, you find your car turns into a milkshake maker.

The car shakes and vibrates like mad, but you manage to keep your eyes stable enough to realize that you are now driving on a train track. A couple of meters ahead of you, you find the van is also doing the same.

Following the track, your eyes find the sight a hill, and the entrance of a tunnel. A light bulb lights up in your head as you deduce what the men in the van are trying to do. You silently and shakily applaud their cleverness.

The fact that you are now driving on an unstable ground slows down the both of you to an almost crawl, but the van is still in a considerable distance ahead. So, you weld your teeth shut to avoid biting you tongue off, and once again, you hit the accelerator.

The noise made by your suspension system and the cry of your tires make for an unsettling harmony, and your hands feel numb as you struggle with the steering wheel, trying to get some form of control. Somehow, you manage to keep your brain from turning into a bowl of skull porridge for long enough to proceed and close in your distance to the van.

The tunnel's entrance gets closer and closer, until everything suddenly goes darker and the noise of your siren and the sound of both engines start echoing against the wall.

The light of your siren and the one headlight you have left are letting you to see the van in front of you clearly...and also letting you see the men pointing their guns at you from the windows on the van's door.


You duck under the dashboard just in time before the buzz of MP10s shatters your windshield and sent a horde of metal slugs over your head, destroying your headrest and the back window, and giving your ears yet another case of temporary deafness.

"DAMN, SON!" You screamed like an old American cowboy, though you could just barely hear yourself talking through your ringing ears.

The barrage of bullets stop just as suddenly as it had started, but when you raise your head, you can't find the van anymore.


You do however, can find the headlight of the locomotive heading straight at you just fine.

There's no other way but forward.

[ ] This chase has gone long enough!

[ ] YOLO.

[ ] ...


[ ]Write in.


[ ] Break the radio so the police cannot track us? (Y/N)
No. 179828

Inb4 this story ends early somehow
No. 179830
[x] YOLO
- [x] If there is enough time, open the umbrella in front of ourselves like a shield.
[x] Break the radio so the police cannot track us?

The umbrella might not work, but it's better than nothing, I figure.
No. 179831
I am reminded of a certain American Badass who once said "Speak softly and carry a big stick. You will go far." We just have an Umbrella instead of a stick.

[x] ...
[x] Put the Radio inside the van to lure the police away from you and your girlfriend. I mean laptop.
No. 179832
[x] YOLO
[x] No

We kind of want the police to catch these guys.
No. 179833
Calling it.
No. 179835
Some of you surprisingly forget that we have guns.


"YOLO!" you screamed that word as loud as possible.

Which is an utter nonsense, since if You Only Live Once, why would you flung yourself towards a locomotive?

Maybe, you are crazy. Maybe you actually have some form of undiagnosed mental illness that makes you want to constantly try to commit suicidal acts yet at the same time being too awesome to die.

That sentence was probably also nonsense.

But being nonsensical has its own good, you know? I mean, Albert Einstein wouldn't have invented the atomic bomb if he followed the rule of common sense. I mean, look at that hair! Dude's plain crazy, I'd say.

Anyway, you somehow managed to not being turned into a trainway pancake, and are now driving on a desolated road with barely any streetlight, forcing you to rely on the one headlight you have left.

In front of you, there's your laptop. Well, the van carrying your laptop, but you don't care about that. You just want to retrieve your laptop.

Also, you think there is a young girl involved somewhere, you are not sure, plenty of things happened in the last couple hours, and you are rather sleepy.

You can see in your left the train that had almost re-christened you as 'roadkill' driving calmly in the opposite direction as you, as if nothing had happened. What a smug snake-y bastard.

Alright, enough with the nonsense. Let's end this.

You grab your umbrella and jam it into the radio system, breaking it completely and utterly destroy the integrated tracking chip inside, leaving you free from the annoying meddle of the upholder of the law.

You can argue that the law are there for a reason, but you cannot argue that sometimes, the law should not be considered as literal as they want you to think, and that you should see it simply as a mere guideline when dealing with extreme situation. Like a stolen laptop. And maybe kidnapping, you're not sure.

You slam the accelerator yet again, forcing the exhausted police car forward. Despite the damage, police car is still deliberately faster than a lumbering, bulletproofed van, and in no time, you've already caught up to the van.

You don't think you need the siren anymore, since you don't see any other car on the road. So, you turn it off.

You notice the men in the van are preparing to shoot you again through the van's windows. But this time, you are prepared. Before they have the chance to take aim, you had already cocked your stolen Glocks. Both of them.

Yipee-ke-yay, motherfuckers.

Holding a pistol in both hands, you start firing away at the van's backdoor, completely demolishing your front windshield in the process. The cold of the midnight air hit you hard in the face, as you hold the steering wheel with your thigh and keeping one foot on the accelerator. But more importantly, your improvised suppressing fire manage to keep the men at the back of the van to keep their heads down, allowing you to accelerate safely until you are side by side with driver of the van, close enough for both of you to clearly identify each other.

The driver, unlike the men in the back, are not heavily armored, but is wearing a mundane looking blue jumpsuit like any normal delivery personnel. Obviously a part of the disguise these guys had planned for a quiet retreat, before you blown their plan to hell and beyond.

That suppressive fire just then left you with only one pistol with three bullets in it. You decide that this is a good time to be a naturalist. Safe the bullets, safe the nature, less gunpowder emission and casing waste, or something like that.

You fire one bullet through your side window, aiming directly at the driver's head. But your bullet bounce off harmlessly against the van's bulletproof glass.

Alright, time to get close and personal.

You continue to accelerate until you are driving smack-dab in the front of the van, blocking it's way.

And then, absolutely without prior warning, you hit the brake.


A loud sound of bending metal can be heard as the front bumper of the van smashed hard against your car's booth, giving you one heck of a kick to the back of your head.

"Ow! My neck!" you sworn silently.

You pull the handbrake, locking the rear wheels completely. You can smell the burning rubber and the sound of your tires getting murdered as the van desperately tries to shake you off from its bonnet.

But you are holding on, masterfully manipulating the front wheels so that your car will stay connected to the van at all times, constantly eating away at its momentum.

Suddenly, the van stops, and so are you. From the rear view mirror, you see the driver gets out from his seat, carrying what you deduct as the standard MP5. He is then followed by the other three men holding MP10s. Guess these people finally decide to permanently swat away the one annoying fly that's been bugging them all night.

You grab your pistol and your umbrella, and jump through your now inexistent windshield and quickly duck behind your car, just before another swarm of bullets flies through the place where your head once used to be.

You keep your head low and your back planted to the ground. From the gap between the car and the ground, you can see four pairs of feet advancing towards your position.

You pull the trigger of your pistol and release one bullet towards the first man's foot.

As your ears confirm the scream from the first man's mouth, you quickly raise your body and fire another shot straight into his temple. The first man, the driver, promptly falls dead. Three men left.

Three men whom quickly retaliate with three automatic weapons fired at once at your general direction.

You quickly planted your back to the ground again. You peek once more through the gap between the car and the ground, and this time, you see three pairs of feet, one corpse, and his MP5 lying on the ground.

You use your umbrella's handle to hook into the MP5 and pull it closer to you. Then, you throw your empty pistol away, and reach out under your car with your now free hand.

You now have an MP5.

You fire away at the feet of the remaining three men through your car's underside, with your side firmly planted against the ground, forcing you to aim sideway. But the inaccuracy factors are completely nullified by the MP5 sheer rate of fire.

The howl of three toe-agonized men reach your ears, signaling you to once again rise out of your cover, and open fire.

You let out two three-rounds bursts in a quick succession, aiming at the two nearest heads. Your small caliber bullets manage to ripple through their gas masks, entering their skulls, but fail to break through, leaving them bouncing around against the inside of the skull and turning the brain into a very morbid version of swiss cheese, killing the two men instantly.

You're about to do the same thing to the last man, but when you redirect your gun at the fourth man, he is already in the process of falling over.

The fourth man lies dead on the ground, and replacing him, standing and pointing her pistol at you, is the girl in the white shirt you've seen before, bloodied and battered as she was dragged out of your bathroom.

The key difference this time is that she's no longer has that hopeless look in her eyes. Instead, on her face now you can see an aura of pure determination, like a tiger two second before a fight to the death.

The kind of expression that tells you that she would not hesitate to pull that trigger and shoot you in the face.


The girl starts to speak in a firm tone, but she stops mid-sentence to take one deep, audible breath before continuing.

Her voice is a little lower than you would expect from a girl this young, giving her a slight sense of masculinity. Also, you can't help but noticing her thick Japanese accent.

"....are you? And why shouldn't I shoot you?"


Note: these sentences may not be the exact wording.

[ ] I have a gun too, you know.

[ ] I'm on your side. Maybe.

[ ] Hi. You've been inside my bathroom.

[ ] These men took away something precious to me. I'm just passing through to take it back. You do whatever you want. I don't care.
-It's not like I come here to save you or anything! Dummy!

[ ] I'm just a man that is currently in need of some sleep. So please stop aiming at my face before I accidentally shoot your eyeball off.

[ ] Welcome to America. Sorry for the mess.

[ ] Write in. Keep it short and sassy, preferably under two sentences.
No. 179836
[X]I'm Margaret Tatcher, and I WANT MY LAPTOP BACK !
No. 179837
[x] I'm The Badass who just saved you, Sweet-Cheeks.

Classic action movie one-liner, GO!
(Try to think up a better pet name if you can)
No. 179838
[X] I'm Smoke Manmuscle, and I just want my goddamn laptop back. Also, why were you in my bathroom?
No. 179839
[X] I'm The Badass who just saved you, Sweet-Cheeks.
-[X] Not that I like you or anything. I just wanted my laptop back.
No. 179840
[x] I'm Smoke Manmuscle, and I just want my goddamn laptop back. Also, why were you in my bathroom?
No. 179841
[x] I'm Smoke Manmuscle, and I just want my goddamn laptop back. Also, why were you in my bathroom?

I like it.
No. 179842
Also, I'm just going to assume those two helicopters were recalled to airlift the RPG survivors to a hospital.
No. 179846
Un going yo assume we "lost" them in the train tunnel incident and that they're going to send the men in blue into our ass at the worst possible second
[x] Welcome to América, sorry for the mess
No. 179847
[x] I'm Smoke Manmuscle, and I just want my goddamn laptop back. Also, why were you in my bathroom
No. 179848
[X] I'm The Badass who just saved you, Sweet-Cheeks.
-[X] Not that I like you or anything. I just wanted my laptop back.
No. 179849

[x] Welcome to América, sorry for the mess.

Funny thing I've noticed, is that actual badass people? They tend to not say that they are badass. Only that "I have been called that by some people."
No. 179850
I kinda figured The Badass is a suitable moniker, given the title of the story and the fact we don't have an actual name yet.
No. 179851
[x] I'm the Badass who just saved you, Sweet-Cheeks. Also, why were you in my bathroom?

I could care less about the laptop. No sane person would do all of this for a laptop.
No. 179852
[x] These men took away something precious to me. I'm just passing through to take it back. You do whatever you want. I don't care.
-It's not like I come here to save you or anything! Dummy!
No. 179853

No sane person would injure/kill police officers and probably a few civilians to save someone who broke into their house.
No. 179854
[x] Welcome to América, sorry for the mess
No. 179855


Pic related. I totally would, my laptop is my life. It's got everything I worked so hard for in the last ten years on it.

I'm not sane though.
No. 179856
>leaving all of your important shit on a ten-year-old hard drive
you should make a backup
like, right now
No. 179858

The hard drive isn't that old, I've just been moving all my data onto new computers as I upgrade. You're right though, I've been backing up my data in preparation for a new computer anyway but it's hard to back up almost a terabyte worth of stuff scatterd across multiple drives. Thanks for the concern though!
No. 179859
[x] Welcome to América, sorry for the mess.
No. 179860
You look upon the clear dark sky, with no hovering searchlights in sight.

It was pretty clever of them, driving through a train tunnel like that. In this moonless night, in an area that barely has any lighting, the helicopters pilots must have a hard time locating the tunnel's exit, allowing the men in the van to easily lose their skyward pursuers. If the helicopters were then recalled to make an airlift for the RPG's victims, then it would give them even more time. Very clever indeed.

Clever, but ultimately pointless, because they are now dead.

Still, it would be in your best interest to get away from this location as fast as possible. You hope that the battered police car still has a few miles that you could squeeze off from it.

But of course, first you would need to convince the girl in front of you to stop pointing her gun at you.

"My name is Smoke Manmuscle. And you've been inside my bathroom."

As expected, the sheer bizarreness of that sentence left the girl in a state of absolute confusion. She's looking at you, tilting her head and making face as if you are the strangest thing in the world.


You use her scattered state of mind as a chance to send a suggestion.

"If you would like to have a more comprehensible conversation, may I suggest that we stop pointing deadly weapons at each others face?"

The girl looks at you with suspicious gaze, straight through the iron sights of her pistol. A Beretta M9, you'd wager. A bit underpowered for your taste, but good enough to pierce an unarmored skull, like yours.

"You first." the girl demanded.

"Sure." you comply, lowering your own quarter-loaded MP5. But of course, the hammer is pulled fully, and you are taking a very close look at the girl's trigger finger. If she tries to shoot you, you would be able to retaliate immediately.

Fortunately you don't need to, as the girl surprisingly follows your action, lowering her own pistol...and then holding it to her side in the most unprofessional of manners.

"Where did you learn how to handle a gun?" curious, you asked.

"I was forced to." the girl answered in monotone.

You were not expecting that answer. Child soldier? No, her skin is too finely groomed for that. Assassin? No, the way she handles her gun is just too unprofessional. Maybe her father was a gun nut and forced her to take marksmanship as a hobby?

"Right." you seceded the subject. Her personal issue is most likely not your business. "Now that we are not trying to kill each other, should we begin the conversation?"

"Yes." the girl response was almost monotone. "I was asking about your name."

"But I did tell you my name." you retaliate.

"And I suspect your father's name is Beat Punchbeef, and you grandmother's name is Blast Hardcheese, and that you have cousin named Butch Deadlift."

"Could be. We Americans have weird names." you told her, only half joking.

The girl, hearing your words, looks confused.

"We are in America, then? The United States?"

"Yes. The one with the Bald Eagle that wasn't actually bald." it took your brain a couple of moments before you realize the implication of her sentence. "Wait. You said that you didn't even know what country you're in?"

"I...I don't know. I was blindfolded. I think."

Her expression suddenly turns pained, like she's trying to struggle something out of her memory.

"Er...well, then. Welcome to America." you glance down at the four corpses. "Sorry for the, uh, unfavorable greetings."

The girl's suddenly looks up to you. You notice that she's merely half a head shorter than you. Pretty tall by Asian standard.

"You were saying that I was in you bathroom, what's that supposed to mean?"

"A door is not cheap, you know."

"Eh..?" You chose to give a vague answer, and watch as realization seeps into the girl's face



"Is that why you did...this?" she swung her arms, referring to the entire area. With a gun in one hand, mind you. "To sue me over a broken door?"

"Actually, no." You nudged at the white van "You've been inside that van, right? Have you seen a laptop that...huh?"

Carelessly, you've diverted your attention from the girl and to the van for a mere femtosecond, and when you look back, the girl is gone.

"What the...?"

She can't just vanish like that, can she?

You jump over the bonnet of the car that separates you from where the girl used to stand.

You find her sprawled over the tarmac with her head positioned near the car's front tire.
Her eyes closed and her mouth slightly opened, her body stiff and motionless as if dead.

"Did you just suddenly decide to fuck off and go to heaven?"

You reach inside your bag, and find the one item you rarely ever take out; a commemorative flashlight pen celebrating your ten years of dedication to the company you work for.

You spin the girl's body until she's lying on her back. Gently, you open one of her eyelids with your fingers, and sprayed your flashlight into it.

You do not see any conscious response from the girl. Her pupils are dilated, and her skin is unnaturally pale.

Also, the patch of blood on her shirt seems to be getting bigger and bigger each moment.

You diagnose a possible shock due to blood loss. Now that you think it over, she did seem a little delirious when you two were talking.

You were about to practice your limited knowledge in first aid, when you hear a bleeping noise. It sounds like some sort of alarm, and it comes from one of the soldier corpses.


[ ] Examine the soldier.

[ ] Administer treatment.
- How? (Write Ins)

Also, because I want to have an MC that actually have a normal day job;

Engraved on your commemorative flashlight-pen, is the name of the company you work for. It was:

[ ] A pharmaceutical company.
-Human augmentation.
-Genetic research.

[ ] Heavy industry/ Military contractor.
-High end military equipment. (Like Lockheed-Martin.)
-Civilian firearms. (Similar to Smith & Wesson)
-Military grade small arms. (Akin to ArmaLite/Colt)

[ ] Write Ins.

Feel free to come up with the name for the company.
No. 179862
Well, I backup all of my stuff and I would have assumed our protag did too. So to me this whole thing has been for a piece of plastic and metal rather than data.
No. 179863
[x] Administer treatment.
-Look it up on the internet.

The soldier's heartstop-bomb ain't gonna trip us up, we got a life to save.

[x] A pharmaceutical company.

If Breaking Bad has taught me anything, the guy with the most boring job is the most badass.
No. 179864
[X] A pharmaceutical company.
-Human augmentation.
[X] Administer treatment.
-See below.

With the way we've been playing so far, the flashlight probably came with a commemorative plate saying "Thank You for 10 Years As A Test Subject".

If the protagonist can look it up on the Internet, then so can I!

A quick summary of first aid instructions for dealing with severe bleeding:
Have the injured person lie down and cover them with something to prevent loss of body heat.
Remove any obvious dirt or shrapnel from the wound (preferrably while wearing latex gloves, or at least covering your hands with a clean plastic bag), but don't dig around for anything lodged more deeply, before putting pressure on it with a clean bandage or cloth. Keep pressure on it for ~20 minutes without checking if the bleeding has stopped.
If it bleeds through, add more bandages.

And the final step: Get the injured person to a hospital as soon as possible.
Although our MC is likely to skip that one, for obvious reasons.
No. 179866
[X] A pharmaceutical company.
-[X]Human augmentation.
-[X]Name: Versalife? No, too obvious. Metlife? No, that's an insurance company. Errr, Pfizer?
[X] Administer treatment.
No. 179867
Also, cheers to Kapow for unbanning me. Don't do drugs kids.
No. 179868
[X] A pharmaceutical company.
-[X]Human augmentation.
-[X] Dress the wound as expeditiously as possible and lift her legs such that they are elevated above her head.
-[X] Stop by the IV room at the pharmacy and pick up two 1000ml bags of Hydroxyethyl starch(is possible) or Lactated ringers with standard TPN additives(mainly the electrolytes. Skip the lipids and carbs for now).
[X] Don't worry the infusion rate. Squeeze the fucking bag.


[X] Call 911
No. 179869
[X] A pharmaceutical company.
-[X]Human augmentation.
[X] Administer treatment.
-[X] Apply pressure to the wound.
-[X] Call 911.
No. 179870
Calling it. Maybe. I'm feeling a bit tired.

Anyway, we are now 30-something man than somehow manages to keep his feminine looks and is working for a Pharmaceutical company focusing on human augmentation.
No. 179871
[Deus Ex Jensen line here]
No. 179873
Pic related.

When you referred to your limited knowledge in first aid, you meant relatively, of course.

You definitely know more about the human body and how to treat them more than the usual average joe, it's just that you are not really sure how to do it in the field without any preparation, with no equipment whatsoever.


You run as fast as possible to the van and enter through the backdoor. After searching for a while, you manage to find a bag of military grade first aid kit. That, and another bag fulls of weaponry and ammunitions. These men seem to have no set standard on their armory. You can see some western and eastern made firearms mixed together, some from the cold war era, and some from the age of military overcompensation.

You also see your laptop neglected to the corner of the van like a piece of trash, but you need to take care of that later.

You run back to the girl, and proceed to remove your hoodie and spread it across the road. You move the girl on top of it, using it as a cover to separate her body from the dirty road.

Then, you start undressing her.

All done professionally, of course.

After putting her bloodied white shirt haphazardly somewhere on the car's bonnet, You ignore her stained white bra and, just below her inexplicable clean armpit, you find a bullethole. A bullethole of a pistol caliber, to be specific. Judging by the amount of blood currently coming out of it, you deduct that the bullet must have hit a shallow artery somewhere along her torso. The bullet then acted like a plug, preventing further blood loss, until it ultimately dislodged just a moment ago.


You hear another bleep from one of the soldiers corpses. You look back just for a moment to realize that it comes from some sort of PDA/microcomputer attached to their belt. Maybe you need to look into that later. But for now, you have a life to save.

You actually though about calling 911 again for an ambulance, but you just don't have the motivation to explain the bullet holes and the corpses. Also, this girl doesn't seem to have any form of identification. That definitely will cause some administrative trouble. Alternatively, driving an ambulance while dodging the police and at the same time performing a first aid to a critically bleeding young girl might be a bit too much for you.

Just a bit.

You spin her body around her back. Then, you lift her legs and support them against the side of the police car, keeping her legs elevated and her blood to her upper body and to her brain.

You unceremoniously remove her bra as effectively as you can (it's not like you have many experience with this sort of thing) and reach inside the first aid bag, retrieving a tissue box-style medical gloves dispenser. You retrieve a pair of ambidextrous latex glovers and put it on your hands.

Time to get to work.

You reach inside the bag again and take out a bottle of antiseptic liquid. You smear it over your hands and around the girl's wound, but you'll need something to wipe it off. This is when you notice something sticking out of the girl's pocket. You pick it up, and it turns out to be a piece of pink soft fabric. A handkerchief.

You see an initial embroidered on one of its corners. M.H, in bright red threads. You wonder if it could give you any clue to the girl's identity.

You carefully wipe the area around the girl's wound with the handkerchief, after you are done, you put the bloodied handkerchief inside of your own bag, somewhere near where your wallet are.

You reach inside the first aid bag again and retrieve a roll of bandage.

"These should do for now."

You lift the girl up just a little, enough for your hands to work around her back. You set the bandage across her wound, along her chest (please ignore those pink nubs) and around her neck and one of her shoulders, all the while making sure that your wrapping is as tight as possible, since you're not sure if you would be able to afford the time to apply the mandatory 20 minutes of pressure around the wound for a proper first aid treatment.

After you spent the entire roll of bandage for a considerably thick wrapping around the girl's body (which also have the fortunate side effect of protecting the girl's modesty). You once more rummage through the items inside of the first aid and find a roll of duct tape.

You spread the duct tape over the bandage, securing it.

Examining your work for the last time, you are assured that it should be enough to keep her alive, at least until you reach the city.

But there's something disturbing you. While you were working on the girl, you heard two more of that bleeping sound coming from the soldier. Something about that noise set off an alarm in your head, like your instinct warning you about something dangerous that is about to happen.

You can't help yourself. You move towards the one soldier that keeps giving off the strange noises.

You unhook his PDA from his belt, and press the biggest button on it.

The screen comes alive with a line of red, DOS-like texts on a pure black background.


Well, that doesn't sound ominous at all.


ETI...Ethical Trading Initiative? Energy Technologies Institute? Education and Training Inspectorate?

You keep on thinking of acronyms until you see the countdown.



Ah...Estimated Time of Impact.


So the bleeping was a two minutes warning. Should have look into it first.




[ ] Write ins; what would you say when you suddenly realize that the area you are standing on is about to be hit by a cruise missile? And you only have eight seconds to get out of the blast radius while carrying an injured girl?
No. 179874
[X] You have a perfectly good armored van right next to you. Be sure to stay out of sight though. And sweep for trackers later.
No. 179875
[X] Those fools at the Education and Training Inspectorate would dare defy me like this? My vengeance will be swift.
No. 179877
What would I say?

[x] A series of expletives
No. 179878
[X] You have a perfectly good armored van right next to you. Be sure to stay out of sight though. And sweep for trackers later.
No. 179879
If it's aimed at the PDA, we should probably throw it before jumping in the van.
No. 179880
[x] You have a perfectly good armored van right next to you. Be sure to stay out of sight though. And sweep for trackers later.
-[x] Scream a lot of profanity while you're at it.
No. 179881
[X] You have a perfectly good armored van right next to you. Be sure to stay out of sight though. And sweep for trackers later.

Yeah, the van seems like our best chance right now.

Eh, 8 seconds. It's not as if the missile would even have time to deviate from it's course much before impact.
I think those seconds are better used to get in the van, close the doors and brace for impact.
No. 179883
8 seconds is not enough time to do, well, almost anything.

But when plenty lesser man would only see the impenetrable wall of twisted explosion and death, your calm, analytical mind manages to let you see the one chance of survival.

You stand up and start running back towards the girl. In the way, you throw the PDA into the air, just slightly in front of you.

Then, with the speed added by your running start and the combined might of David Beckham and a sexually infuriated giant gorilla, you swing your dominant leg at the currently mid-air PDA as it drops, kicking it away with a satisfying 'thwack' and sending it flying far, far out of the road and out of your view.

Hopefully that will give you some extra chance at being not dead. The most commonly used cruise missile, the Scud, moves at approximately mach 5, so, 8 seconds should be plenty of time for it to change course, preferably to somewhere a bit far away since you doubt the van could actually withstand a direct hit from a cruise missile, even if they only want to erase evidence and are using the full-incendiary type.

You pick up the now half-naked, bandaged, but ultimately less bleeding-to-death girl from the ground, holding her in bridal-style while giving an extra attention not to shake her too much.

But because both of your hands are now preoccupied, your 'indestructible' umbrella seem to be about to receive its hardest field test yet. You wonder if the guarantee covers 'military airstrike'. It probably doesn't.

You run inside the van and lay the girl on the floor. You close the doors, lock them, and then get back to the girl and take position behind her. You lift her up, holding her head close to your chest with one hand while your another hand is coiling around her torso, holding her tight. Both of your legs are outstretched to the van's wall, bracing for impact.

And then, you wait.


And waiting.


And waiting.

But nothing happens. 8 seconds had definitely pass, but your ears don't catch any level of explosion, nor your body experience any form of rapid expansion. Could the computer's calculation be wrong? Just to make sure, you keep on waiting in anticipation until 15 seconds has already passed.

You sigh in relief. 'ETI' must have meant something else. You almost laugh at yourself for being so paranoid.


...or not.

You hear something banging on the van's doors. Judging by the sound, it's something massive, at least as massive as a full grown rhinoceros.


A very massive, very angry, very determined rhinoceros.

Whatever it is on the other side of those doors, it's relentlessly hitting against the toughened, armored metal of the van's doors like a housewife struggling against a particularly resilient can of sardine.

Then the inevitable happened. Accompanied by the sound of ripping metals, the doors of the van get swiftly torn off.

And what you see next, is something truly indescribable.

It's ..something alive, but you cannot perceive it. It as if your very eyes refuse to acknowledge the existence of such being. The closest of its description your brain can manage is the view of thousands of small, disembodied red eyes on a simple black background starring and blinking at you, but you know that description is far from sufficient.

Whatever that thing is, you know that it's huge, sentient, and has a hand.

Or rather hands.

Thousand of them.

Reaching towards the girl...and you.

[ ] Start the engine and run.

[ ] Kamikaze Blitzkrieg.

Either way, pick your armament;

[ ] SPAS 12

[ ] M1014/M4 Super 90

[ ] AK-74

[ ] FN Minimi

[ ] M16/AR-15

[ ] M4 Carbine

[ ] AK-47

[ ] MP7 PDW

[ ] FN P90 PDW

[ ] Write ins (Post/Cold War stuff.)

Pick your expletive/profanity;




[ ] *Incoherent rage scream.


[ ] "O ye Eldritch Abomination who walked from beyond the veil, harbinger of forgotten lore, by the power granted to me by the almighty, European gunpowders, and the fifth amandment, I hereby command thee to FUCK OFF.

[ ] Write ins.
No. 179884

Time to go all Sandy Ravage up in their shit
No. 179885
[X] Start the engine and run.
[X] The Patriot
No. 179886
[x] Start the engine and run
[x] FN P90 PDW
No. 179887
[X] Start the engine and run.
[X] C96 mauser
No. 179888
Are any of those gun options a pistol? Because it sounds like it need's to be fired while driving.
No. 179889
[x] Start the engine and run.
[x] Hi-Point .40
[x] *Incoherent rage scream.
No. 179890
The MP7 can be used with one hand.
No. 179892
[x] Start the engine.
[x] put on seat belt
[x] https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6Orx5JvksOk
[x] Drive.
[x] Bren Ten 10mm
[x] "War is the way of Man.
Man is the means of War.
You allow us War.
Our worship is our readiness.

It is proper to adhere to our nature,
Aggression is natural,
We are meant to be aggressive.

Through war we are purified,
Through slaughter we are enlightened,
I cast thee, Nex Alea,
May fortune find strength in me,
So that my weaknesses be absolved.

Saluto Nex Alea."
No. 179893
[X] Start the engine and run.
[X] "O ye Eldritch Abomination who hath walked from beyond the veil, harbinger of forgotten lore, by the power granted to me by the Almighty, European gunpowders, and the second amendment, I hereby command thee to FUCK OFF."
No. 179910
Whatever is that thing you are looking at, there is one thing that you are sure of. That just sitting here and waiting is more than likely to get you thoroughly murdered.

You act quickly, reaching for the duffel bag you have found before, containing the mysterious men excessive armaments.

After randomly rummaging (while mildly panicking) inside the bag, you find yourself in a possession of a loaded M1911 semi-automatic pistol.


Eh, can't go wrong with classic.

You switch the safety off and open fire, two shots released just before one of those...eyes-covered black hands reached the girl's ankle.

"Off with you! No virgin sacrifice tonight!"

Not that you would know if the girl is a virgin, of course.

You half expecting your bullets to have no effect at all, but the hand did back off. It's just that there are still dozens other hands advancing slowly and steadily towards you, with all their eyes locked to yours. Creepy. And annoying. Mostly creepy.

"You think I'm afraid of you!?" you shouted.

"Bah! I am the concept of war crime given sentience!" you fired another shot.

"I am a genocide machine that walks like a man!" you fired another two shots.

"AND YOU! ARE! MY! BITCH!" you emptied your magazine, emphasizing your words with a barrage of 45. ACP.

Somehow, you manage to repel all the hands away, but no matter how much bullets you fired, you seem to be unable to put even a single scratch to the creature's body. That thing is mostly eyes, literally 90 percent of it is made from vulnerable points! How is it that you didn't even manage to pop a single eye?!

'Sheesh, what are you made of?'

Most likely the nightmares and hopes of aborted babies, probably.

The handful of abomination are starting to resume their advance towards you, nothing worse to wear. You throw your now empty pistol back to the duffel bag, and then, you slung said bag across your shoulder, while at the same time you grab the girl's torso and starting to drag her further inside the van, towards the seats.

You basically slam her onto the passenger's seat while you yourself takes position behind the steering wheel. Luckily the key is still in the contact.

But not like it would matter.

In front of you, you see through the windshield the police car you had stolen. It's covered in black tentacles, which are also covered in blinking, unsettlingly organic looking eyes. You watch in amazement as the police car slowly sink into the ground that had been turned into an infinite void of eyes, like a more twisted version of The Titanic

You expect the van would be experiencing a similar situation unless if you act fast.

You spin the key and start the engine, which starts roaring without a hitch. You put the van into first gear and slam the accelerator, but instead of rearing forwards, the vehicle starts to get pulled backwards.

You look back, and find ten thousand eyes looking back at you. The entire cargo compartment has completely disappeared, replaced by a sea of eyes.

This night has now officially gain the status of 'the weirdest night in your life'.

You rummage again inside the duffel bag containing the mysterious men arsenal. Looking for something much stronger than a mere handgun. Because frankly, this is clearly a 'bigger firepower or die' situation.

And lo, bigger firepower do you find.

Inside the bag, you find a set of electric timer...accompanied by a big block of plastic explosive.

[ ] C4? (Y/N)

[ ] Alternative? (Open for suggestion. Author reserve the right for Veto.)
No. 179912
[x] https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bPr_eGNM9Us#t=750
That's my vote
No. 179913
basically, Ya should've prayed to the /k/ube friend, we're fugged now.
No. 179916
[X] C4. Ten seconds. Toss it in and hope for the best

Mr.abomination seems to be some kind of walkng horror shaped portal, and, counterintuitively enough, it's somehow affected by physical force. Well, I'm not one to look a gift horse in the mouth.
No. 179922
It's probably need to temporarily turn corporeal to manipulate physical stuff.
No. 179923
[Y] C4
No. 179924
[X] So...if it has human hands it might have other human traits. Try asking the Hand Demon to give us a few minutes to get our laptop and girlfriend to safety before resuming our fight to the death.
[X] C4. Ten seconds. Toss it in and hope for the best.

Why can't the Eldritch horror from beyond time and space have waited until our girlfriend isn't bleeding out?. This dude seriously needs to learn to read the mood.
No. 179927
The girl isn't Smoke's girlfriend, she just happened to be in the same van as his laptop.
No. 179928
Nigga do you even action films? At this point it's almost a certainty that the badass action hero and the chick in distress will get hooked.

Unless another girl comes into scene and makes a mess out of Smoke's love life.
No. 179930
This is Touhou.

Count all the female members of the cast. Take all the time you need, I can wait.
No. 179931
I believe this is the Samuel L. Jackson kind of badass. Not really romance material.
No. 179932
About 130. But usually the first girl wins.

Fair point, though I think it's too soon to assume things.
No. 179933
You notice that the creature, whatever the Lovecraft it is, actually has two forms. One that is solid, and one that is not.

It is 'solid' when it needs to manipulate objects, such as the police car and the van you are sitting on. Which, as you can observe through the side view mirror, has begin to creak under the pressure of dozens of eyed tentacles.

The second form is the 'void' form, the one that swallowed the police car whole and turns the earth around you into a diseased version of Alice's rabbit hole. You feel the back of the van has started to sink, informing you that yes, you need to think fast.

The two forms of the eye-creature, the 'solid' and the 'void, lead you to two different possible conclusions; one, is that the eye creature is actually a kind of living organism that's somehow gets its nutrition from digesting automotive metals. Or two, that the creature is actually some form of sentient, inter-dimensional portal that leads to wherever the mysterious men are using as their evidence disposal ground.

You have read before about inter-dimensional portal from a thesis written by an MIT student (titled Observation of Einstein-Podolsky-Rosen Entanglement on Supraquantum Structures by Induction Through Nonlinear Transuranic Crystal of Extremely Long Wavelength (ELW) Pulse from Mode-Locked Source Array a pretty solid read. Go Google it.), but you would never expect it to be used like this. Also that thesis had never in any way mentioned any form of eyed tentacles.

In both of possible scenarios, you decide that the best course of action is to follow the United States Military first doctrine; when in doubt, a well placed explosion is as good as any to let you free of your problems. (citation needed).

You pick up the box of C4, set the trigger for a ten seconds delay, and throw it over your shoulder, where it gets promptly swallowed by the eye-creature, which had invaded the entire cargo area.

If the eye creature is indeed a living organism, you expect the explosion to inflict substantial damage and incapacitate it long enough for you to escape. But if the eye-creature is actually an intelligent, inter-dimensional portal, then you expect the explosion to form a disturbance in the quasi-quantum-entanglement, creating enough looseness in the dimensional 'veil' to let you free.

Or all of you could simply explode. Who knows, you are biologist/mechanic, not a quantum physicist.

Either way, you pull the seatbelts across the girl's chest and your own, then, you start revving up the engine.


As the van's engine roars in futility, you begin the countdown.


As the count goes lower, you can feel the van sinks more and more to the ground, effectively in the process of being swallowed by the eye creature.


Suddenly, accompanied by a loud boom, you feel a nasty kick from the back of the van, pushing your entire body against your seatbelt and giving you a whole new assortment of neck pain.

You feel the entire van being propelled forward, as if it's being rejected by the wall of reality, and then, you hear the satisfying sound of your back tires spinning against the tarmac.

You slam the acceleration pedal further with your toes, launching the entire vehicle forward. The eyed tentacles try to hold on to the van, but your perfectly timed explosion made it weak.

With a loud noise of something sharp grinding against the van's tempered steel outerior, suddenly, you are free.

Without looking back, you keep on driving forward as fast as you can, following the deserted, cross-country road, trying to get as far away as physically possible from the eye creature.

You don't know how long you've been driving, but when you stop, you can already see the sunrise dying the sky orange. You can also see a flock of birds flying in formation above you, ready for their morning gathering.

'Ugh. Sleepy.' you mumbled.

You look back, and there is no sign of the eye creature. There is also no sign of the back of the van.

The van basically has been turned into a pick-up truck. Half of the van is entirely gone, the compartment area looks like it's been torn apart by a mutant Tyrannosaur Rex, and through the van's now inexistent back, you can see the top of the city's tallest skyscrapers peeking through the horizon.

You also realized that your laptop is gone.

'Aww. Dammit.'

You sighed, realizing that the whole night has been an entirely pointless waste of time.

You pick up your smart-phone from your bag, before you realize that you are still wearing blood-covered medical gloves, and silently curse again.

You remove the glove from your dominant hand using your teeth, and start operating on your smart-phone, on the browser, you type;

NAME: Gatemaster

HDD Failure. Typing from mobile. Lost notes. Cannot update. Indefinite hiatus. My apologize.

You push 'Reply' and put your phone back inside the bag.

You decide to check on the girl's condition.

Looking at the girl again, it is clear that the rough driving was not kind to her injured body. You can already see some blood dripping through the bandages.

You press your back against the chair and take a deep breath. That was a long night, you are tired, and you still have an injured girl to take care of.

Like it or not, this is something you would like to have some help with.

So, you decide to call for some help.


[ ] Call your father.
Note: No, he's not dead.

[ ] Your most trusted friend/co-worker.
-The British lesbian.
-The French Bisexual.
-The Canadian Sniper.
-The Italian Lover.
-The Russian Fighter.
-The Japanese Doujinka

Set up rendezvous;

[ ] Inside the city.

[ ] Outside the city.
No. 179934
[x] Call your dead father
[x] Inside the city
-[x] In your safehouse next to the 'last chance' bar
No. 179935
[X] In the city behind the suppository and tampon store. It was made to be the last place anyone would ever look, after all.

And [X] The Japanese Doujinka
No. 179939
[X] Your most trusted friend/co-worker.
-[X]The British lesbian.
No. 179945
[X] Your most trusted co-worker.
[X] The Japanese Doujinka.
No. 179952
[X] Your most trusted friend
-The French Bisexual.
[X] Inside the city.
No. 179954
[x] Call your father
[x] Inside the city
No. 179956
[X] Your most trusted co-worker.
[X] The Japanese Doujinka.
[x] Inside the city
It's just like one of my japanese animes!
No. 179957
I need to prepare for exam. Would you be patient?
No. 179968
Silly kids with their animes and their mango...
No. 179976
You know, refering to the girl as simply 'the girl' starts to feel a little awkward after a while. Maybe you should come up with a temporary nickname, at least until you figure out her real name.

[ ] Rosey, because she's bleeding everywhere.

[ ] Jane Doe, because you are a professional.

[ ] Scrappy, because she brought you a lot of trouble.

[ ] Sweet Cheeks, because her face is adorable.

[ ] Yamato, because she's Japanese and you really cannot be assed to think of a better name.

[ ] Write Ins, something that rolls in a narative form.

I'll write a proper update tomorrow. Maybe. Oww~my head...
No. 179977
[X] Sweet Cheeks, because her face is adorable.
No. 179978
[x] Sweet Cheeks, because her face is adorable.

Still digging the sound of Sweet Cheeks.
No. 179979
[x] Sweet Cheeks, because her face is adorable.

Oh my god hahahha
No. 179981
[X] Sweet Cheeks, because her face is adorable.
No. 179992

A sleepy, almost unnaturally high pitched voice answered you from the other side of the line. You'd admit, that the first time you heard that voice, you found it slightly annoying, but in time, it has grown on you. Now you just find it endearing.

"Miss Impreza. Are you awake yet?" you answered with one hand still pressed firmly around the girl's wound, trying to slow down her bleeding in any meaningful way.

"Senpai, I'm not a rally car." the voice sulks half-halfheartedly. "And yes, I'm awake, I'm just about to go to the office. How about you, Senpai?"

Subaru Thatcher, the Japanese-American woman who is in absolutely no way has any connection to the British Ministry. The first time you were introduced to her, she had insisted that she'd be allowed to refer to you as 'Senpai. You do not know what this word means, but she said it means something akin to 'Honored Senior'. After being told that, you do not know if you should pat her on the head or clock her in the face for making you feel old.

"Listen, Subaru, I need your help." you decide to go straight to the point, but your conversation partner won't let you.

"Is it a transportation problem? I could go pick you up, but we're going to be a bit late, though. The main road is blocked due to reported terrorist activity."

Ah, right.

"The morning news said that the main suspect is a woman. Guess emancipation could go both ways, huh, Senpai?"

God bless your ability to change your voice at will.

"No, Subaru. It's not that. I currently have a girl sitting next to me, and..."


The connection suddenly got cut off. You try to call her again, and after a few seconds, Subaru answered.

"What was that?" you asked.

"Sorry, signal's been bad here since last night." she answered in a sleepy, monotone manner. Weird.

"Doesn't matter. We probably would need to change our SIM card after this call anyway."

"Hmm? Why? What happened?"

"The girl, she's bleeding out. Gunshot."

The line falls silent.

"What can I do for you?" Subaru's voice suddenly takes a more professional tone. She might not be a proper doctor, but she had taken their oath. No time could be spared for nonsenses when someone's life is at the edge of the drain.

"I need you to grab some bags of Hydroxy-ethyl starch, and maybe some Lactated ringers with standard TPN additives, just the electrolytes is fine." you give your instruction clearly and calmly.

"Anything else?"

"Yes. Bring a set of blanket or towel. She's losing heat. And the van we're in no longer has a rooftop to speak of."

At the time you finished that sentence, you had already removed your own shirt and put it across the girl's torso. You can feel the cold morning breeze stings your bare skin as you continue to apply pressure to the girl's wound through your shirt.

"Where should we met? I'd assume you can't just go to the hospital."

"No, I can't. You know the apothecary at the fifth street? Near the Last Chance pub?"

"The one we went to last week?"

"There's and abandoned playground somewhere near the back of it. Meet me there."

"On it."

And with that, the line is cut off. Quick, no question asked, absolute secrecy. Her professionalism is what you admire most from one Subaru Thatcher.

You put your phone back to your bag. Then, you remove your hand briefly from the girl's wound to replace the bloodied medical glove on your hand. You don't want to leave any fingerprints, since unlike the girl, you didn't come to the country possibly without passing any form of bureaucracy. The local police probably already have your data neatly stored in their database.

"Alright, then, sweet cheeks."

You put your fingers back under the girl's armpit.

"Let's go save your life."

== ==

Now, since you chose to drive inside the city, with an incredibly demolished van with a suspected terrorist plate number attached to it, possibly through an area with a regular police patrols, you obviously has some kind of a plan, correct?

[ ] Feint the police with your superior driving skill.
- Drive like a madman.
-Try to be subtle.
CONSIDERATION: You have wounded girl on board, and half demolished van isn't exactly what you would call 'subtle'.

[ ] Ditch the van near the edge of the city.

-If so, then;

[ ] Keep the duffel bag full of armament. You might find some clue inside.

[ ] Leave it. Its heavy and conspicuous.

-How would you acquire new form of transportation?

[ ] Just walk.

[ ] Grand Theft Auto.

[ ] Taxi.

[ ] Write Ins. You did have a plan, right?
No. 180001
[X] Ditch the van near the edge of the city.
[X] Keep the duffel bag full of armament. You might find some clue inside.
[X] Grand Theft Auto.
No. 180004
[ ] Hitchike.
-Bribe.(also works for the taxi driver, of course. But taxi generally more expensive since they already expecting to get paid anyway. )
No. 180005
[X] Ditch the van near the edge of the city.
[X] Keep the duffel bag full of armament. You might find some clue inside.
[X]#Grand Theft Auto #YOLO
[X]Pick the flashiest car you can find, they'll never suspect that.
No. 180015
I hate every element in this story, But I love the story itself; does that make sense? Anyway, keep it up writefag.

[x] ditch the van
[x] keep the bag
[x] taxi
-[x] bribe
-[x] lie (per example: she got shot by myself by mistake and I don't want to go to jail but I don't want her to die either )
No. 180018
What element?
No. 180026
[x] ditch the van
[x] keep the bag
[x] taxi
-[x] bribe
-[x] lie (per example: she got shot by myself by mistake and I don't want to go to jail but I don't want her to die either )
No. 180027
>Mary Stu as protagonist
>Yukari as evil gapbitch final secret antagonist
>People using 'Senpai' nonironically

But don't worry about that: what truly matters is if a story is good or not and this one seems to be the former.
Besides, I'm biding my time until Kogasa appears.
No. 180040
The fifth street, located near the edge of the city, is, for the lack of better term, a shithole.

You will find this kind of block in every big city in the world, the part where pawn shops of dubious reputation buy out goods liberated from the hands of those more able. The part where dealers stand on dark alleys, selling out their wares to the curious youth of society suffering from lack of attention. The part where the oldest of profession lures the rich, bored executives down from their BMW thrones and into a cheap, run down motel.

But the worst part about this area, or maybe the best, for someone with questionable sanity, is it full of highly patriotic (or simply just high), gun-totting, war-mongering biker-rednecks who are constantly trying to shoot the shit out of each other.

Fortunately, this also means that the TAXI drivers around this part of the city are already used to delivering bleeding person to a back-alley doctor, a fact that you can't be more thankful of at this certain moment.

"You know you'll need to pay extra for this, right?" said the driver in front of you.

Right, of course silence doesn't come cheap.

"Twice the normal amount is fine, I assume?" you start to bargain, while at the same time trying to stop the sweet cheeks on your lap from bleeding to death.

"Four times. I will need to clean the car after this." he raised the bargain.

You have this weird feeling that tells you that by the end of the day, your wallet will only contain desperation.


"Five times."

"I have a gun."

"Thrice. You got yourself a deal."

You arrive at your destination without much trouble after that. You pay the driver his due, and lift sweet-cheeks out of the car, still covered in your now crimson shirt.

You walk to the rendezvous point, inviting nothing but a few strange looks from the near-apathetic pedestrians in the way.

You arrive at the park near the back of the apothecary, just as planned.


If one word could describe the physical look of Subaru Thatcher, then it would be 'boring'.

A possessor of a lithe frame, she is almost a head shorter than you. She has a small, triangular face, light skin tone, and beady brown eyes, all typical for a woman originated from the East Asia. Her black hair is straight and long, pulled tightly back and tied into a long horse-tail that reaches well to her hips, revealing her considerably-sized forehead.

She's wearing a bright yellow shirt accompanied by a white tight slack, making her stands out when standing at the front of her jet black car. A Toyota Hilux 'Invincible'.

You wonder why she would pick an oversized pick up truck as a personal transport. Maybe she's compensating for something.

When she approaches you, she quickly takes sweet-cheeks from your arms and into the back seat of her car, displaying an unexpected strength as she carries the obviously bigger girl away.

You put down the duffel bag full of munitions near the front wheel of the Toyota, and proceed to approach the wide open back door.

You see that Subaru has done a very efficient job of setting up an IV line inside of the patient's circulation, but you still need to do something about the bleeding...

"Senpai, could you go and get me a tampon?"


[ ] Wait, what?

[ ] Eh, sure.

[ ] Why me?

Reminder: you are currently topless.


You know, you should really stop calling me 'senpai'. It's kind of unsettling.

[ ] Call me 'Boss'. It'll stroke my ego.

[ ] Call me 'The Doctor'. It sounds more professional, and maybe I'll be able to travel in time.

[ ] Think up a nickname for me. It'll sounds more personal. (write Ins)

[ ]We're friends, right? Just use my name.
-Diamondback, Delsin.
-Ravenway, Richard.
- Something in that line.(Write Ins )

-Statham, Solomon.
-Willis, William.
-Reeves, Revan.
-Connery, Cole.
-Something in that line.(Write Ins )
No. 180042
[x] Eh, sure.
-[x] Let me get a shirt first.

[x]You know, you should really stop calling me 'senpai'. It's kind of unsettling.
-[x] We're friends, right? Just use my name.
-Ashley ('Ash') Addison
No. 180043
[X] Eh, sure.
[X] 'Senpai' is fine.
No. 180046
[ ]We're friends, right? Just use my name. Smoke Manmuscle.
No. 180050
[X]We're friends, right? Just use my name. Smoke Manmuscle.
No. 180051
[X] Eh, sure.
[X] 'Senpai' is fine.
No. 180056
[X] Eh, sure.
[X] 'Senpai' is fine.
No. 180079
You walk out of the apothecary with a box full of tampons in hand.

It could be said that your travel between the front door, the female-care section, and the cashier desk was just as uneventful as experienced by many henpecked husbands in the world, forced by their marriage ties to go and do some shopping in the behalf of their significant others.

Except maybe the fact that you were not married, and half naked, and that the cashier woman probably spared a bit too much time starring at your bare chest.

Also when you were queuing in front of the cashier desk, you constantly felt your bottom being pinched, and that the only person behind you was a burly man that looks like Jean-Claude Van Damme cousin from Alabama.

But let's not dwell on that, shall we?

You half-run back toward where Subaru parked his truck. She must have seen you coming, since when you arrive, You see that she had already undone the bandages around the girl's torso, and is now holding the bleeding in with the leftovers.

You open the box and hand her a unit of tampon. She quickly accepts it and starts working with it, gently inserting the blood absorbent stick inside of the girl's wound.

She then pulls out a new roll of bandages from somewhere, and starts redoing the girl's wrapping.

You walk around the truck and open the door from the other side, and proceed to give Subaru some helping hand by holding the girl in an ideal position for bandaging.

When you finished, the two of you laid the girl carefully on the truck's backseat.

"She's stable now. Maybe" said Subaru, hesitant. You notice the IV drip hanging from the grab-handle near the top of the truck window, with the hose extending towards the girl's arm, with a finely done bandaging holding the needle.

"You've done a fine job."

"Thank you. But Senpai, this is but a temporary procedure. She will need further medical attention, and soon."

You can hear a slight desperation in her voice. The girl's condition is probably worse than you have initially suspected, and you don't think a prolonged duration without any proper treatment will do her any good.

"But as I said, it probably will only bring more trouble for us if we take her to a hospital."

"Then, what about the HQ?"

The company's headquarter? Well, now that's an idea. You are certain that you have enough authority to make some supplies 'disappear' from storage. After all, you hold the chair of leadership in;

[ ] Research and Development.

[ ] Subjects Research Clients Maintenance.

IRL stuff: Sorry updates are getting shorter. final exam is approaching, and i keep getting busier and busier, but I still want this story to proceed. maybe i would be able to write longer updates by July.
No. 180082
[X] Research and Development.

We can rebuild her. We have the technology.
No. 180084
[x] Research Clients Maintenance.
'Maintenance' like checking her oil and such?
No. 180088
[X] Research and Development.
No. 180093
[x] Subjects Research Clients Maintenance.

Because if you're head of Maintenance, then clearly the supplies were used for "maintenance".
No. 180095
Requesting tie-breaker.
No. 180098
[X] Research and Development.
No. 180107
"Alright. We'll go to the HQ." you declared.

"We're already late for morning shift, though."

"Don't worry. Our company practices flexible work hours to encourage creativity." You calmly explained the company's policy to your junior.

"Ah, well, that's great then."

"Doesn't mean we could slack off, though. Let's go."

After that short bit of conversation that completely excluded the fact that you actually have a critically wounded girl on board, Subaru quickly positioned herself behind the steering wheel, while you yourself take position on the backseat of the truck after throwing the duffel bag full of guns inside of the cargo compartment.

You hold sweet cheek tightly against your body, cradling her head near your chest, since neither you or her can exactly wear seatbelt at the current moment.

Before long, you already on the road heading downtown, passing Van Damme's Alabama cousin lying out cold on the sidewalk, courtesy of your fist.

As you feel sweet cheek's small frame leaning against your chest, you wonder what a Japanese girl like her, with nothing in the way of identification, is doing in this great country alone by herself.

"So. Senpai." Subaru spoke out. "Want to tell me what happened?"

You look around, and you see that the rush hour is slightly worse than usual. Under the morning sun peeking out from between the derelict buildings scattered near the edge of the city, hundreds of cars and other form of transportation are all going to the same direction. You let out a sigh of relief as the Toyota Hilux gets swallowed by the anonymity of a morning commute.

It seems that the highways really are closed.

"Dunno." You finally answered Subaru question. "Saw her being chased by a bunch of armed men. Though I'd be the good guy and save her. You know, classic action movie damsel in distress situation."

"That explanation seems far-fetched. Even for you, Senpai."

"It is, isn't it? Lost some precious things for my trouble."

You wonder what happened to your umbrella. You silently hope that it was also swallowed by that giant eye thing. Otherwise, it might get tracked back to you by the police. You suspect not many people in town has enough money to spare to buy an unbreakable titanium umbrella.

You notice that Subaru went silent.

"You do not belive me?" You asked.

"Eh? Err...actually, after what you did last week in R&D, I could believe everything."

"Military contract. Shits happen."

"You almost triggered the mechapocalypse. "

"Go blame the IT department. They made the OS."

You both chuckled. Just two good friends, strolling on a usual, completely unremarkable morning commute.

"Wait." suddenly, Subaru interjected with a serious tone, looking at you through the rear view mirror.

"Senpai. You are naked."

At some point in the makeshift operating procedure, Subaru must have thrown your shirt somewhere. Ah, there it is, you find it laying on the floor.

"I'm wearing pants. That counts for something right?" You said, half jokingly. "Wait, did you just realized that now?"

"Er...no, of course I'm not."

Subaru readjust her rear view mirror.

"Anyway, Senpai, who's the girl?"

"Don't know. I can't find any form of identification on her."

"Did she comes out of a magic portal?" For some reason, Subaru sounds hopeful.

"No." You answered bluntly.


After going with the flow of morning traffic for what feels like an hour, the Toyota Hilux finally reaches downtown. It looks just like any regular big city downtown, with gigantic buildings reaching out to touch the sky, like a forest of metals and glasses, softly reflecting the glare of the morning sun.

Your destination is probably the largest, tallest building smack dab in the middle of the entire city. It is a two hundred stories monstrosity covered in glass. Designed with contemporary style in mind, its sharp angles heavily contrast the dull concrete boxes around it.

All of the two hundred floors are owned by a single company. Spelled in giant, blocky letters covering the uppermost five floors of the building, is the name of that company.


Not a bad name. A little uncreative, though.

As you arrived, Subaru quickly drops you and Sweet Cheeks off near the front lobby.

'Meet me at R&D' you said to her just before she drove off to park her truck in the basement parking lot.

"Morning, Sir." the front security officer, dressed in full riot gear and holding an FNC Rifle (because of course) greets you as you come near the glass automatic sliding door. "Is that...?"

"Fresh experiment client." You quickly said.

"Ah, of course. Good luck to you then. And her. But why are you naked?"


The guard hesitates for a moment, but ultimately decide to follow his contract and do not asks any more question.

"Have a good day, sir."

"Thanks. You too."

You enter the circular large hall that makes the entire first floor of the building. It is rather empty at this hour. The floor are made of tiled marbles mixed with other stoneworks, planted together to form a giant mosaic that covers the entire foundation. A gigantic Caduceus gated by two equally gigantic lightning bolts, all framed within a giant hollow bronze cog. The company's logo, dearly referred to as 'The Mechanical Snake' by common people and employee alike.

At the center, there is a half circular receptionist deck staffed entirely by attractive women. Opposite them, at the furthers part of the wall, are series of express elevators.

As you walk past the receptionist desk in your way to the elevator, one of the receptionists actually have the courtesy to say good morning to you.

You reached your desired elevator and kick the 'up' button with your foot.

When the elevator door opens, there is already one man inside, an aged man with completely bald head and aged blue eyes, wearing black pants, white shirt, black tie, and white doctor coat. A face that you recognized immediately.

"Good morning, Boss." The man said.

"Mr. Jensen." You returned the greeting. "A busy morning today."

"Yes. Is that a fresh subject?"

"Mr. Jensen. The term 'subject' is little demeaning, don't you think?"

"But of course." He said as he presses the button to the 75th floor. The R&D. "I meant 'Experimental Client'. Now, is she..?"

"Our first priority is to keep her alive. And for the immediate future, nothing else." you said in a stern voice.

"Should be easy." Jensen said simply.

You reach the 75th floor relatively quickly.

"by the way, why are you naked?" asked Jensen absent-mindedly as the two of you walked out of the elevator.

"Stuff happened."

"A perfectly adequate explanation."

As you walk through the white painted labyrinth that makes most of the R&D department, lined with doors leading to many different experiment rooms and offices, you notice that one room has its door opened.

Funny, you are sure that you had locked your office shut last time you were here.

[ ] Go straight to the operating table.

[ ] Pass Sweet Cheeks to Jensen and check inside your office.
-Specifically tells him to wait.

Welcome to GenTech. We're all fucking psychopath and masters of law evasion.
No. 180111
[X] Go straight to the operating table.
[X] Finnaly! A chance to test the laser vision implants.
No. 180119
[x] Pass Sweet Cheeks to Jensen and check inside your office.
I want Jensen to show his hand early.
No. 180242
[x] Go straight to the operating table.

Save patient first, investigate suspicious activity later.
No. 180243
[x] Pass Sweet Cheeks to Jensen and check inside your office.

We're on our own turf, she'll be fine with Jensen. Let's check for possible intruders and kick their asses.
No. 180245
Well, there are a lot of important files inside the shelves in your office. A little bit of checking shouldn't hurt. It's probably nothing anyway, maybe you're just that forgetful.


"Yes, boss?"



The very moment you exchange your patient with him, you can see a childlike glee basically pouring out from Jensen's eyes. It is quite disturbing.

"Take care of her. I have something i need to take care of in my office."

"Sure boss. No need to worry, she's with the best."

Jensen start to grin like a horse.

"That's exactly what I'm afraid about."

As Jensen move on with the girl to the operating room, you proceed to go towards your own office room, and walks in.



Well, this is a nice surprise. You half expecting it to be a dozen of guns being pointed at you. After all, you've spent an entire night entirely by being shot at.

But instead, you are looking at a little girl, about 3/4 your size.

She's wearing a brown set of skirt and vest-tie combination, complimented with pure white lab-coat and horizontal stripes leggings. But then, the most interesting feature about the girl is probably her puffy blue hair, tied into a pair of fluffy pigtails.

The girl looks at you. Frozen. Her expression is as if she had just seen a ghost. Or a topless man suddenly barges in through the door.

You take a step forward.

The girl takes a step backwards, arms held close to her chest, like she's trying to protect herself.

You take another step onward.

The girl back hits the side of your desk, situated at the middle of the room.

She's cornered. Like a cat.

Maybe this will be the right time to attempt communication before she clawed your face off like a cornered cat.

"Umm..."You begin. "Who are you?"

Before the girl could answer however, you hear footsteps from behind you. It's Subaru.

"Ah, right. We haven't told Senpai yet." she said in a carefree manner.

"Told me what?" you asked, without letting your sight wander away from the blue haired girl.

"Senpai? Uhh...this might be a bit sudden, but you actually got assigned for an internship program, that girl? She'll be in your care."


Wait, what?

[ ] I never asked for this.

[ ] Why haven't I been told?

[ ] What's up with her hair?

[ ] What's her background?

[ ] What is she doing in my office?

[ ] Hey! Having an intern around would be nice!

[ ] Write-Ins.
No. 180246
Obligatry option...
[X] I never asked for this.

and then
[X] What's her background?
No. 180247
[X] Why haven't I been told?
[X] What is she doing in my office?
[X] What's her background?
[X] Hey! Having an intern around would be nice!
[X] What's up with her hair?
No. 180248
[X] Why haven't I been told?
[X] What is she doing in my office?
[X] What's her background?
[X] Hey! Having an intern around would be nice!
[X] What's up with her hair?
[X] Send her to get Jensen before he does something.
No. 180249
[X] Hey! Having an intern around would be nice!
[X] What's up with her hair?

Kids these days and their fashion.
No. 180253
[x] I never asked for this

He did not.

Also, where is our umbrella? ;..;
No. 180366
[X] I never asked for this.
-[X] But, hey! Having an intern around would be nice so...
-[X] Why haven't I been told?
-[X] What is she doing in my office?
-[X] What's her background?
No. 180534
There are dozens of questions running through your head right now.

But you decide to go with the most obvious one.

"so..." you point at the girl's head. "...what's up with her hair?"

"What's wrong with her hair?" Subaru tilts her head.

"Well, it's kind of..."

But when you turn to face the girl again, her shining blue hair has suddenly turned into glistening black color.

"...blue." you continued your sentence, dumbfounded.
"Blue? Senpai, maybe you're just tired? Did you not sleep last night?"

"No. I did not."

Yeah, maybe you're just tired. You sure could use a cup of coffee right about now.

Or a dozen.

Talking about "coffee" and "intern"....

"It's not like I wouldn't appreciate the extra help, but why haven't I'm told about this?"

Subaru shrugged.

"To be honest, her assignment was a bit sudden. I tried to contact you last night, but I guess you're too busy to notice your phone?"

"It was most likely so, yes."

You'd admit, the explosion of a rocket propelled grenade does tend to be somewhat louder than your regular ring-tone.


You suddenly noticed that you've been neglecting the subject of this conversation.

"Ah, where's my manner." You switch into a more proper stance, and give the intern a slight curtsy.

"Good morning, I'm the head of the RnD department. If I have a hat, I would lift it for you. But since I do not have a hat, I sincerely hope that a handshake would be sufficient? Miss...?"

You offer her a hand, which the intern hesitantly grabs.

"Urm...Kawashiro, Nitori Kawashiro."

"Well, then, miss Kawashiro, I...hm?"

Her tiny hand feels strange in your grasp.

It feels...metallic.

In a moment, you will regret this decision, but at the current now, however, you let go of your better judgment...as you suddenly lift Nitori's sleeve.


The intern let out a stunted scream, which you ignore in favor of examining her now completely exposed right arm.

"umm...senpai? What are you doing?"

"Her arm...it's beautiful."

The intern start to blush like a tomato. Not like you would notice at this point though.

Her arm...you wonder how did you mistaken it for a mere flesh and bone at a first glance. It's definitely unnatural, but it doesn't feel so. It's clearly mechanical, but it's just...feels so alive. upon closer inspection by your trained eyes, you know that inside this wrapping of smooth, Japanese latex, are buried the pinnacle of human engineering.


The girl shivered as you run two fingers along her forearm.

"Did you feel that?"

Advanced nerve connection? How interesting.

"How about this?" you start using your thumb.


"And this?"


If you would let your eyes wander for just a mere second away from the awesomeness of her prosthetic arm, you would notice that Nitori's breath start to gets heavier and heavier along with your every touch, or how her cherry blush start to spread from her face and down to her neck and to her now slightly exposed chest, or how her legs start to buckle under her own weight as you marvel upon the fineness of the special part of her body.


[ ] You wonder how well simulated the nerve system is. Let's examine it more intimately! Because nothing make a first impression like an INSTANT ORGASM.

[ ] Whoa whoa! Bad touch! Bad touch!
-Punch self in the face.
No. 180535
[X] Whoa whoa! Bad touch! Bad touch!
[X] Punch self in the face.
Because punching yourself in the face is funny.
No. 180536
if writes ins are okay then
-[X] "subaru you need to take a look at this thing! it's incredible look at how the *insert technobable here* acts when stimulated it's almost alive!"
if not then
-[X] You wonder how well simulated the nerve system is. Let's examine it more intimately!
No. 180537
[X] Whoa whoa! Bad touch! Bad touch!

Because punching yourself in the face is stupid.
No. 180539
Also: wat
No. 180540
What wat?
No. 180608
-[X] "Subaru, you need to take a look at this thing! It's incredible look at how the *insert technobable here* reacts when stimulated, almost like it's alive!"
if not then
-[X] You wonder how well simulated the nervous system is. Let's examine it more intimately!

Never not always mad scientist.
No. 180612
[X] Whoa whoa! Bad touch! Bad touch!
No. 180650
-[X] "Subaru, you need to take a look at this thing! It's incredible! Look at how the *insert technobable here* reacts when stimulated, almost like it's alive!"

Examine everything! Because interns have no rights, according to the contract they didn't know they signed when they joined the company.
Makes it a lot easier to explain away the strange "accidents" when you can wave a piece of paper at the ones questioning you and "prove" that they "agreed" to it.
No. 180709
[x] Call security and have her detained. She's clearly a Chinese robot, sent to simultaneously commit corporate espionage and steal American jobs!
No. 180710
No. 180946
You are upside down.

You don't remember how, but you can say with the utmost certainty that you are currently upside down, with your back against the wall.

"Ow. I feel pain." you whimper. "What happened?"

"You tell me, Senpai." Subaru says from the half destroyed entrance of your office. "that was a very methodical Judo throw. You think it was pre-programmed?"

Right. One moment you was examining a technological marvel, the next you were in a collision course with the nearest wall, and then you had an angry maiden running off out of your office.

You are also half naked. Overall, you are not exactly making a good image for yourself.

"Could be." you say as you awkwardly get back on your feet. "for something with that much dermal platings, the nerve connections sure are sensitive."

"Dermal plating? So, it was a military model."

"I can't say. Never seen one that slender. Ow. Where was she from, anyway?"

"Tokyo University, I think."

"Oh, right. Those creepy Gynoids maker."

You limp towards your chair behind your desk. It is a very nice office chair, usually associated with rich CEOs.

You sit down, and realize that Subaru is pouting.

"I took offense to that, Senpai."

Ah, right. Subaru was from Tokyo, wasn't she?



You ignored Subaru's pouting, and then you notice a lot of documents on your desk. More works to be done today, you guess.

You seriously need to sleep, though.

"She might make charge for a sexual harassment, you know, the girl. She supposed to be in your care, after all."

"I did nothing wrong, beside, if so happen then we have the PR department to deal with it."
Subaru gasped

"You really want to unleash PR upon such a sweet girl?"

"Of course not. I was joking."

If you are working with a company of questionable ethic, you can expect that the PR department there would be...a bit different from other company, to put it lightly.



"This thing is pretty heavy, you know?"


Just now you realized that Subaru was carrying a familiar looking duffel bag, somehow you managed to ignore it so far despite the bag being so large it dwarfs Subaru's slender frame. Maybe you really need sleep. Or caffeine.

"Ah, right. Just put that in the corner. Thanks."

Subaru let down the bag in the corner accompanied by a heavy 'Blugh' sound.

"What's in it?" Subaru asked.

"Enough weaponry to occupy the coast of Canada for two weeks."

You slouch on your chair, rubbing your eyes trying not to fall asleep. When you open your eyes again, you see Subaru standing right front of your desk.

"What is it?"

"Well, Senpai, I've been helping you so far, so I thought I deserved some explanation. Where is that girl, anyway?"

"In the operating room."

Subaru tilts her head.

"Which operating room?"

"The one that's currently in use. Duh. She's being worked on."

"And she's being 'worked on' by who, exactly?" Subaru asked, her tone sounds worried. And you know she has a reason to, given her relative high morality.

"Jensen." You answered truthfully.

"That Jensen."



"Didn't know you're half-British."

"I'm not. And I think you've lost your mind, Senpai, leaving a potential test subject in Jensen's hands without supervision."

"And that's why you should go, before he turned the poor girl into a T-800."

Although judging from the amount of bullets involved just by being with her for one night, maybe turning her into a mechanical murder skeleton isn't such a bad idea.

"Why don't go, Senpai?"

"Not exactly in a condition to hold a scalpel and mess with people insides, am I?" You point at your half naked, dirty, battered and tired body.

"Hmmph." Subaru pouts again. "Fine. I'll take care of Jensen and the girl, but you owe me for this, Senpai!"

And with that, she storms out of your office, leaving you with a set of problems you need to solve.

[ ] You need to seek the intern and apologize, before something undesirable happened.

[ ] You need to go home, the cops is probably already sweeping the area. You need to come up with an alibi and quick!

[ ] You here to earn your wages. Check the documents on your desk.

[ ] It is imperative that you get a shirt on, and maybe take a bath.
-To the surgery room!

[ ] Sleeepy...need to take a nap.
-Fuck sleep! Caffeine!

[ ] Check the duffel bag and see for clue as to what the fuck just happened last night.
No. 180948
[X] Sleeepy...need to take a nap.
-Fuck sleep! Caffeine!
[X] You here to earn your wages. Check the documents on your desk.

If the police come asking around, you've been at work all this time and clearly know nothing about cruise missiles in the middle of the city and mysterious women bleeding out in your bathroom.
No. 180949
[x] You need to seek the intern and apologize, before something undesirable happened.

Nitori come baaaaack
No. 180953
[x] You need to seek the intern and apologize, before something undesirable happened.
No. 180973
[x] It is imperative that you get a shirt on, and maybe take a bath.

Let's put an end to the nakedness gags, we got things to do.
No. 180976
[x] You need to seek the intern and apologize, before something undesirable happened.
No. 180996
[X] Sleeepy...need to take a nap.
-we have no need for blood in our coffee steam!
--[X] It is imperative that you get a shirt on, and maybe take a bath.
---[x] You need to seek the intern and apologize, before something undesirable happened.
No. 180998
[x] You need to find the intern and apologize APPREHEND HER, before something undesirable happens SHE LEAKS COMPANY SECRETS.
No. 181011
-Fuck sleep! Caffeine!
[X] You're here to earn your wages. Check the documents on your desk.
-[X] It is imperative that you get a shirt on, and maybe take a bath before doing so.
--[x] You need to seek the intern and apologize, before something undesirable happens.
No. 181013
...and promptly realized how awkward it is not to know the MC's name in an office setting where everyone has known you for ten years.

[ ]Write ins. I need a name, at least a last name so I can attach the 'Mr' suffix. please be sensible. maybe something you would give to your firstborn to make sure he would never be bullied. It's okay to be a bit unique though.

I know that one actor from 'The Human Centipede', the one that played Dr. Josef, has the surname 'Laser'. that's fine too.
No. 181014
[X] Smoke Manmuscle

If it ain't broke, don't fix it.
No. 181015
[X] Smoke Manmuscle

And, if you don't want that name, there's also the seemingly normal...

-[X] Mr. Torgue

Both work for a badass, really. One just requires more explosions and capital letters.
No. 181016
[x] Mr. Baudauss

A badass is U, and Baudauss has two of em.
No. 181017
[X] Mr. Torque

I like this more than I should.
No. 181018
[X] Smoke Manmuscle
No. 181020
[x] John McClane
No. 181021
[X] Smoke Manmuscle
No. 181022
[x] Mr. McClane
No. 181023
So...you guys picked the 'trap' bodytype for the MC and then choose to name him 'Mr.Manmuscle'?

No. 181025
It only makes the trap more confusing. Smokey Manmuscle, and then he looks like a girl. Except he totally IS a macho man after all..

Besides, voters cannot remember further than two updates back, at most, anyway.
No. 181026

Yea I don't remember voting for that. But this outcome is fine too.
No. 181027
[X] Smoke Torque Manmuscle
our friends call us Mr.T
No. 181028
Mr.Smoke (TM)?
No. 181031
Works for me.
No. 181032
sounds good
No. 181033
I'd prefer Mr.Manmuscle, but yeah that works.
No. 181034
I was thinking Mr. Manmuscle
No. 181035

For some reason, this brings to mind a scene in which our hero goes "Behold! My true form!"

And then he turns into a loli.
No. 181036
Wait, no...

Doctor ManMuscle.
No. 181037
Suddenly we reached autosage without me realizing.

I'm going to change the title. This one is lacking in creativity.

No. 181041
I for one vote that A Badass is You is quite to the point. Honestly, you know more about it than we do. We hardly have enough to go off of to actually give it a proper name. I vote that you name it something that vaguely hints at the overarching plot, without being obvious. It's what I would do.
No. 181042
Good point.
No. 181043
Maybe each new thread could be named after a different popular Touhou fanfic with one word replaced by Badass?

Or how about
[x] ManMuscle and SweetCheeks

I dunno where this story is going with this plot, I have trouble pinpointing the theme beyond "Being Badass", so the amount of appropriate title suggestions I can offer is limited.
No. 181046
Well. Let's just say the introduction chapter went longer than I expected.
No. 181048
Also I found this is rather clever, actually.
No. 181049
Say, what would make a good james bond title?
No. 181050
James Bond title huh? Those always have that pompous British feel to them. When it's not the main villain's name, or the name of the MacGuffin, it's always one of those titles that get said in the course of the movie at a really dramatic time.
Like this:
So, by this logic, a title would be a piece of dialogue spoken at some pivotal point in the story that sums up everything at once.

"The Girl From Inside My Bathroom"
"A Busy Morning Today"

Best I could do. Sorry.
No. 181051
[X] "The Girl From Inside My Bathroom"

I love this name!
No. 181052
I'll just leave this here in case any of you interested in beating the crap out of someone with a titanium umbrella:

No. 181056
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