Dante couldn’t call himself a connoisseur, but he certainly knows his guns more than well. He was capable of figuring out the type of fire arm just from the sound they make while reloading, and for handguns, he could tell the exact model from the click they make when the slide makes when reloading.
Most of his underlings used either a fourth-generation Forest Eagle or a 2070 Nail Clipper, both of which were versatile and easy to carry.
When he heard the sound they made, he didn’t bother to turn around. Everyone knew how foolish it was to aim a gun at him, and from the looks of it, the stranger was as well.
"Are you sure about this?"
Entirely unperturbed, Dante picked up his fork and took another bite of his food.
"That should be my question." The stranger chuckled. "You are their boss, after all."
There were fourteen Inferno mbers in the club, and all fourteen of them had their guns out, each one held against their own head. Looking at their expressions, you would think there was nothing odd happening.
"I don’t think you’re getting , so let’s put it this way," Stabbing his fork into the plate, he stared at it for a second. "You are trying to make this personal. Are you sure you want to do this?"
Putting people in desperate situations was a good negotiation strategy, but in Dante’s case, all it did was poke the beast. It wouldn’t have been that big of a problem if they had just launched an attack and killed his underlings, but trying to use them as hostages?
The stranger glanced at him, the sa annoying grin still on his face. Appearance-wise, he looked like a normal guy, as far as normal goes for the people of this day and age. His hair was a ssy crow nest, black with a few gray highlights. His build showed he wasn’t much of a fighter, and with his Geno cells being around his throat, it was easy to guess what kind of power he had.
Watching his every move using Absolute Awareness, Dante noticed sothing unsettling. The bastard had a glint of madness in his eyes. Just like Dante, he wasn’t the kind to be persuaded with threats. Not even when his life is on the line.
"Do it."
There was silence, then there was a click of a Nail Clipper’s hamr as it rested in place. With one foot on a stool and another on the counter, Dante stood over the stranger, pointing a pistol straight at his head. The next mont, the two heard several thuds. The gangsters who had been standing just now were all on the floor, both disard and entirely unconscious.
"Go on," Dante said. "Try it again."
Dante was confident that the bastard’s powers had sothing to do with his voice; a kind of hypnosis, in all likelihood. Since it did no direct damage, it was rated at a Level 1, but that severely underestimates how insidious that power can be. The bastard had used it when he entered, giving the gangsters an order to let him through, but that wasn’t the only thing he did.
Obviously, such a plan was aningless when facing Dante. With his enhanced speed and reflexes, he could easily disarm the hostages and end his enemy before they could do anything else. The stranger should have known that already, so if he was as smart as one would expect from soone with that kind of power, he would have prepared another layer for his plan in case he had the intention of antagonizing him.
"Hey now, let’s take a step back, shall we?" The bastard raised his arms. "We both know that wouldn’t have worked. I was just ssing with you."
Dante didn’t budge, continuing to stare the bastard down. As ti passed, it began to look like he wouldn’t try to do anything, so Dante slowly relaxed the pistol’s hamr and removed his finger from the trigger. As he retracted his arm, the bastard heaved a sigh. It was a little too early to be relieved, however, as in the next mont, the pistol’s handle t the side of his head, and he went flying off the stool he had been sitting on.
~[ ]~
A dull headache assaulted John as he opened his eyes to a blurry expanse. He tried to reach for the source of the pain, but sothing held his arm firmly in place. Right away, he noticed that his other arm was restrained as well. He was tied to a chair, and as if that wasn’t bad enough, he was entirely naked. Panic hit him for a mont, but then he recalled how he got there.
"Awake already?" A calm voice asked. "You can rest a little more. We’ve got all the ti in the world."
He searched for its source and soon found himself looking at a red-haired youth. As it turned out, things hadn’t gone according to plan.
"H-hey man, cut it out already." He said. "I told you I was just ssing with you."
That’s right. It was just a ga. A prank. He had never intended to harm the grunts. If that was his intention, he would have gone about it in an entirely different way instead of walking straight into enemy territory and sitting right beside their boss.
"I know. I know." Standing from his chair, the youth walked over. "You aren’t completely retarded, that much is clear." Passing beside him, he placed a hand on. "But you still are."
John noticed sothing different about the hand that landed on his shoulder, but before he could figure it out, a sharp current shot through his body.
’His hand... it’s different...’
He was sure that the plating covering it was green, but now, it was yellow. There had been info about him swapping between different bionics depending on the situation, and from the looks of it, he was using one with an electrical model.
"Now, here is my first question." The current stopped, giving John a mont of reprieve. "What made you think I’m soone you can joke with?"
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