Revenge Fantasy

After hours... upon hours... of driving, the sun sets and Kuroiwa makes it to the halfway point of the drive. Relatively exhausted, with a grim look on her face. Any further driving is a pure risk to her safety and the safety of everyone around her.

The girl's entertained and energized herself solely on the thought of that news anchor, as her surroundings become a blur and she distracts herself with his suffering. All that suffering and fear he might be experiencing after that phone call, spooked by some ominously unidentified creature and all.

But it was such a miniscule victory, those of which the feeling always fades with time. That brief, fleeting rush goes away in the face of unyielding monotony, of blatant boredom and disinterest.

"..." Sigh.

Kuroiwa's plan for tonight is to stop somewhere, to pull off of the highway and contact Charon.

Right away, she knows that leaving the truck as is at a roadside motel is unacceptable. Anyone staying there could simply take things out of the truck. The alternative, taking the boxes out of the car and into the room is needlessly tedious. She would need to take every single box out of the car and into the room, leading to an uncomfortable situation altogether.

No, what she expects is to find a sort of parking lot to rest for the night, planning to rest in the seat and leave the pickup truck in her care and watch. So, maybe finding a truck stop will be sufficient. Kuroiwa is handling sensitive cargo, and there's this sort of unity and security amongst the truckers. Maybe she would simply be able to rest in the car for the entire time, wake up to a shower and some breakfast. That ever so endearing American truck stop diner vibe.

Well. Problems to handle later down the line. For now-

Suddenly- police sirens echo and blare out. Kuroiwa seeing the flash of red and blue behind her, as a police car is trying to get her to pull to the side of the highway.

"..." Kuroiwa sighs as she changes lanes accordingly, starting to stop the car. Pressing a speed-dial button to contact Charon, pocketing the phone. A calm look on her face as she takes a deep breath. This is just a routine stop. The police will write a ticket for her license and registration...

In the time that passes, Kuroiwa wonders what the issue might be. If she's violated some traffic law, if there was some issue with the truck itself that requires law enforcement to involve itself. Speed limits, broken tail lights, so on.

An officer approaches the side, looking to Kuroiwa. No remarkable facial features, other than his standard-issue cybernetics. His eyes, a bright artificial cyan.

"... good evening. Is there something wrong, officer?" Kuroiwa asks.

"Step out of the vehicle, ma'am," the officer responds, immediately.

Kuroiwa sighs and puts the pickup truck into park, getting out of the car. The light of passing cars amidst the police lights as she steps out. "Alright. I'm out of the car, officer."

"License and registration, please?" the officer asks.

"Very well." Kuroiwa reaches into her pocket for the former. The license is Underworld-issued identification that obscures her true identity, but is a valid license regardless. The officer will likely scan the card itself for a fake name, one Charon should be issuing.

The latter will be more of a problem, but Kuroiwa-

... hm.

Curiously, as Kuroiwa hands the officer the license, she sees a van drive past the two, slowing down with its brake lights on. Pulling off the side of the road as well, driving right in front of the pickup truck. A curious look on her face as she sees the van appear.

"Ma'am."

"... ah-" Kuroiwa nods idly to the officer. "Apologies. I was briefly distracted. Please give me a moment to retrieve the registration in the glovebox."

"No need. The license will do. We'll receive the registration at the station."

"... p... pardon?" Kuroiwa blinks at this, looking at the officer.

"This car is now being legally commandeered," the officer comments. "We have suspicion that it's stolen property."

... this is going beyond a routine stop, then. It sounds wrong, but... it's a full legal arrest, on the grounds that the entire vehicle might have been stolen. It's legal for an officer to seize motor vehicle property on the grounds of criminal suspicion. If the offending party is caught in the act of illegal activity, that is.

In fact, there is a legal precedent to this sudden action. Ever since the rise in cybernetic criminals, police officers are permitted by federal American law to serve in the interest of safety and take immediate action. If someone is caught in the middle of stealing a vehicle, immediate confiscation of the vehicle and the contents inside are necessary.

Legal or not, however, this is bad. Kuroiwa cannot let the police take the delivery. Having Box #45 confiscated and inspected runs the risk of damaging it, if she'll even get it back to begin with. Letting the police take the car with the box is not an acceptable option whatsoever.

Kuroiwa... isn't going down without fighting. If she can talk her way out of this... "On what grounds do you believe this truck to be stolen? I can assure you-"

"Stop resisting," the officer speaks up.

"... I'm not resisting," Kuroiwa continues, continuing to try and speak. To communicate with this human officer. "I'm just asking for legal purposes. See, this car is-"

"Stop resisting."

"..." Kuroiwa narrows her eyes, being interrupted again. "I-"

"Stop resisting."

...

Tch.

No chances at all to explain the situation.

Kuroiwa grits her teeth, and just... calms down. This is just... this is- there's a purpose to this. This is a tactic of law enforcement to, conceptually, keep people safe. It's a necessary action. Completely necessary. As much as she doesn't like it... it's whatever. "Alright. Very well. I shall accompany you to the station to get this all sorted-"

"No. All of this is police property, now," the officer answers. "You're free to go home, now."

"Wha..." Kuroiwa looks at the officer, her eyes squinting. "Could you repeat that?"

"All of it is police property now," the officer repeats again. "The car is reported stolen, and we need to process everything for evidence. You are free to go now."

"............" So they're taking the car and the belongings inside of it... and leaving her on the side of the road... without her personal belongings. "I... I don't have a car. What exactly do you expect me to-"

"Stop resisting."

"I'm not- ... fine. Okay." Kuroiwa begins to reach into her coat.

"Stop resisting."

"I'm just getting my phone to call-"

"Stop resisting."

"I need to call someone. You're just taking my car, so I'm-"

"Stop resisting."

"C... Can't I just call someone to pick me up?!"

"Stop resisting."

"This is the side of the road, officer, what do you expect me to-!"

"I said, stop resisting!"

The officer draws his baton and swings at Kuroiwa. Gripping the handle tightly and putting all of his might into the attack, attempting to take advantage of the fact that this piece of shit is focused on her phone.

... and Kuroiwa, appropriately, ducks under the baton.

The officer committed an attack that could have critically injured her, as the baton missed and hit into the side of the pickup truck, denting it hard. The metallic sound echoing out, giving Kuroiwa all the reasons to assume that baton... will bruise her, or possibly break her bones. If it's strong enough to dent a pickup truck, a metal pickup truck, then it will absolutely mess up a human.

"How fucking DARE you resist arrest?! STOP RESISTING!" the officer violently shouts, raising the baton into the air and about to swing down onto Kuroiwa.

There are legal issues to resisting law enforcement, but this is now - in essence - abuse of power. None of her rights have been told, the officer is avoiding standard protocol, as if denying her rights entirely.

Stop resisting, stop resisting, stop resisting... he says. As if it's all he can say. As if that's all that brain of his can speak, commanding meaningless respect.

Kuroiwa's face turning completely deranged from pure irritation, pure annoyance, visibly livid. "Stop resisting, stop resisting, stop resisting... is that all you can say?!" she shouts at the officer.

"STOP FUCKING RESISTING!" the officer shouts again, a mindless tone to his aggressively loud voice as he swings down.

Kuroiwa sees the movements of his arm, and quickly sidesteps to avoid the swing. Following this, she raises back into standing position and slaps the officer across the face, caring not if she's taken in for assault. This officer was absolutely on her nerves, a misrepresentation of the boys in blue that supposedly protect and serve.

Deciding to just slap him, to vent her frustrations as she violently shouts: "SAY SOMETHING ELSE OTHER THAN-!"

Then, in the next moment, the officer's brain short-circuits. Pure electrical static shooting out of his head. The officer stares forward at Kuroiwa as his eyes light up red with alarm, as the red alerts were sounding off in his head. Aggressive amounts of static spark and sound out, as Each passing second, his own cybernetics turning against him.

"..." Kuroiwa blinks at this, unsettled as she backs away. Did- did her slap cause this to happen? Taking her phone out and holding it to her ear. "U-Uh- Charon, is that you doing this, or-"

Brutally, his eyes explode out of his head and he stands in place. Gradually becoming a lifeless corpse as blood gushes down his jaw, the contents behind his face gruesomely melting as a fiery inferno erupts from his face.

Kuroiwa is visibly startled as she jumps back at this sudden explosion. "W-What the bloody hell?! D-Damn it, Charon, say something, I can't just be-!" Kuroiwa shouts at the top of her lungs into the phone, startled...

... before... realizing that Charon wasn't answering.

There's no signal.

"..." Kuroiwa keeps the gun in her hand, her hands shaking. If the phone was receiving no signal, even the encrypted one that's readily available at a moment's notice, then she's dealing with one of those... phone interferers.

Quickly- she- she looks around, and- her eyes widen. Kuroiwa catches a glimpse of a man approaching from behind her. Presumably from the van that parked in front of the pickup truck, a bald and bearded man in a denim jacket just walking closer.

Hands behind his back... hiding something.

"Hey-! W-What's going on over here?! Did you-?!"

No hesitation, Kuroiwa uses her other hand to draw her gun and shoot at the ground in front of the man's feet. There is no room for caution or care, a man's face just exploded because she slapped him. So there's really no harm in firing a warning shot.

"S-Shit-!" the man shouts, looking at the bullet shot. "W-What the hell do you think you're-!"

With the warning shot to distract, Kuroiwa rushes at the man and kicks him flat in the face, the bottom of her boot breaking the man's nose in yet another hesitation-less act. Kuroiwa has no qualms about hurting an innocent man out of paranoia, that anyone could be a threat if she let danger come close to her.

However, this wasn't an innocent man. From behind him, rope could be seen falling out of his hands, his intentions revealed front and center.

Seeing the man reel backwards, Kuroiwa responds once again. Watching as he falls onto his back, taking aim at him. "Stay down, or I'll shoot! I'm going to drive out of here and-"

"No, no, I wouldn't do that."

Kuroiwa's eyes widen as she sees two hands appear out of nowhere, arms coming from behind her. Looking over her shoulder to see a blond haired man with a chiseled jaw, appearing right behind her. Briefly unremarkable beyond having conventional beauty standards in a man.

In that moment, Kuroiwa- was in shock, in pure disbelief. The hands didn't just come from behind her- they appeared over her hand. As if she's a subject to some magic trick, an illusion that she didn't notice to begin with. Undetected until just now, completely perplexing her.

This man's arms, there was some cybernetic trick to this that Kuroiwa has yet to identify. On further inspection, Kuroiwa sees that this man has visibly translucent skin, his skin slightly clear and see-through.

And she isn't given enough time to properly think about this, no time to examine this further. In a swift and forceful motion, this translucent man forcibly yanks the gun out of Kuroiwa's hands, then steps back and kicks her to the ground. Slamming his foot into the woman's back, knocking her over as the fire coming from the officer's face illuminates his body.

Contently looking at the gun, then at Kuroiwa, the translucent pretty boy just scoffs. Holding the gun confidently as his long hair blows in the wind, contently adjusting his tie as he stylishly looks down at Kuroiwa. "Alright. Come on out."

Kuroiwa- pushes against the ground to try and get back up, only to be met with another foot stomping down on her back, keeping her against the ground. Belonging to a large, heavy-weight man wearing some sort of black ski-mask with a black sweater and gray sweatpants. Kuroiwa couldn't get a good look at him while on the ground- but is forcibly accustomed to the weight against her back, a heavy metal shaped like a human foot. This man rendering her unable to lift herself up whatsoever. Stuck in place, forced to squirm and writhe.

And after the blond speaks up, Kuroiwa sees... more people come into view. Apart from the blond, that rope-holder, and this heavy leg, more people start to come out from both the police car and the van. Two unremarkable people in handcuffs getting out of the police car, while an additional group of three step out of the van.

Eight people in total, not including Kuroiwa and the now dead police officer.

"Tch," one of the men speak. "This one's lively. Wonder what she's got back here that she'd have a gun..."

"She's a single driver, I think it's just self defense," another one speaks.

"Self-defense, my ass, she broke my FUCKING nose!" the formerly rope-holding man shouts. "Bitch's definitely trained to kill!"

As these men speak, Kuroiwa sees the translucent one rolling his eyes, the man contently examining the gun. "I mean, if she was, she would have gone for your face, which... I mean, she did do, yes. Maybe it is worth examining what she's driving."

"Or we could just ask her." The man stepping on Kuroiwa calls her attention as he lifts his foot up and delivers a hard stomp against Kuroiwa's back. Incentivizing her to tell the truth as his foot inflicts- an aching, trembling pain onto her. As if pure metal itself hits against her back, showing enough restraint to avoid inflicting anything severe.

Even as the pain courses through her body, Kuroiwa hesitates to say anything whatsoever. Stalling with groans of pain as she gives herself time to ponder. To plan out her next few words. Kuroiwa is now subject to an organized mugging, after all...

If she does tell the truth about what she's delivering, the goods will be left alone, but... she's leaving herself vulnerable if she does. Complete silence is a death sentence during these interrogations, and lying will likely be met with... complications.

"... ugh... I'm... I'm... I'm just... moving furniture for my relative," Kuroiwa responds, tensely shaking and acting out of breath. Playing the weakness card as she groans in pure pain and agony. "Mother wanted me to... help my uncle get everything to his home. He- he, uh, he... I... uhm..."

"Your uncle, hm? Are the big ticket items with him, then?" the back-stepper asks.

They're... they're accepting the concept. "Y... yes, yes. I'm mostly delivering what he couldn't afford to fit in the moving truck. The truck belongs to him, you see..."

"Oh, wow. So the poor lil' officer over here's just accusing you of robbery, when it's your uncle's car and stuff! Interesting..."

The translucent blond crosses his arms, humming. "Wow. How unjust. Well, I'm sure we can arrange something with the uncle. We did save his favorite niece and all, while our happy little coincidence was playing out."

"... happy little coincidence?" Kuroiwa asks, clenching her teeth.

"Yeah. Getting two of our guys out of police custody. Our identity's not important," the blond comments. "How about we put water under the bridge, girl? We come with you, get some reward money, and we go on our merry little way?"

...

Kuroiwa nods. "S... Sure. What choice do I exactly have? A... As long as I get to go to my uncle, okay? I'll- arrange something..."

"Wonderful. Glad you're so compliant," Back-Stepper comments. "Alright. So, let's get her up and-"

"Hold on. Wait. Look at who she tried to call."

Kuroiwa looks as her phone is taken by some short guy. A guy in a shabby, cheap track suit, equipped with neon green sunglasses over his eyes. Something seems to catch his attention on the phone, and - idly - her phone is looked at by most of the surrounding men. With a jammed signal, Kuroiwa was too distracted to hang up the call...

... and she's met with amused chuckling from most of them. Elated and delighted for some reason.

"Well, what do you know?! Your uncle here's good ol' Charon! Hah!" a man exclaims, gently tapping Kuroiwa's forehead with the tip of his shoe. Condescendingly looking down upon the woman.

Kuroiwa's eyes widen as they state Charon's name. These people are almost- fluent with the Underworld, familiar enough to state the name of a single informant. Charon did keep his deals and connections secret from her, and- all eight of these people seem to be familiar with him enough to recognize a number. Are these people actually her allies?

... no. Kuroiwa identifies that these people are not on Charon's side.

"... or it could be this one number she's called about two hundred times... for the last 8 hours?" a voice asks, chuckling. "Sure are desperate to call this one."

"Point is, this here's one of his newest brats! No way's she just some girl moving furniture, this is some sorta job!" the Back-Stepper exclaims.

The moment those words are said, that is when Kuroiwa realizes that - at the very least - they're as equally unaware of her as she is of them. Kuroiwa grits her teeth and reaches for her-

"Ah-ah-ah," the blond calls out, stepping on Kuroiwa's hand to stop her from taking out another weapon. Forcing her hand to stop in place as his shoe presses down against her hand, almost trying to squish it into a sandwich. "That explains why you were so defensive to the officer..."

Kuroiwa- grits her teeth as his foot grinds her hand into the ground. Watching as he crouches down and stares into her eyes, her own hostile look meeting his grim and dark gaze. Able to feel the pulsing waves of light emanating from his skin, his eyes lighting up with a pure red rage. The clash of red eyes.

"So. If you want to live, you are going to tell us the truth. Explain now, what you're carrying. What exactly is Charon having your little truck here carry?"

"..."

Kuroiwa...

Kuroiwa sighs. No way out of it. Her hostile gaze weakens as she's forced to admit defeat, to answer after her ruse is unveiled. "Fine. I'm delivering goods to a buyer. Everything in those boxes are being bought at a high price."

"Really, now! Wow. How much are you being paid for this?!" the man with the foot on her back shouts. "Sure does sound like a huge pay day."

"... a thousand dollars," Kuroiwa lies, her breathing tense as she blurts that out. Absolutely helpless before these mercenaries, clinging to whatever advantage she could hold onto, needing to maintain this- helpless act. Pride will only get her killed if she can't do anything to defend herself. "The client's paying Charon quite a sum to deliver these goods unharmed."

"Unharmed? Pfff... alright. Sure do wonder what'll happen, though, if..." the translucent man hmms, holding Kuroiwa's gun in his hand... and taking aim at the boxes. Firing one shot into one of the boxes.

Kuroiwa's eyes widen as the gunshot fires. "W-What in the world are you doing?!"

"Just making Charon's life as difficult as possible. If some of the goods are damaged, then there's going to be less of a payday..." the blond explains, glaring at Kuroiwa. "Piece of shit still gets work because of pathetic mercs like you, and... well, if we just so happen to destroy each and every single one of these boxes... so be it!"

Kuroiwa- struggles underneath the foot, just- struggling and aching to break free. Deciding to play the desperation card, acting to try and plead with them. "S-Stop! Stop-! Y-You can't! Don't-! I- I'll- I'll split what I earn from this-! Please-!"

... in truth, Kuroiwa knows that every box besides Box #45 doesn't matter. As long as THAT one survives, everything is still in play. But if she doesn't bring specific attention to that box in particular, the chances of it being damaged is unlikely. She'll be able to figure out some tactic to get it out of here.

"Heh- how desperate. Your loyalty to Charon is commendable," the blond comments, before looking to the other men and shouting. "Get her on her feet, I want her to see each moment of this! See all that money drain before her eyes and all, whatever the hell her $1,000's making her carry!"

"N-No!" Kuroiwa exclaims, feigning panic and stress as she's forced onto her feet, pretending to be as panicked and vulnerable as possible. In truth, she's simply getting herself into an optimal position to come up with a plan, to come up with a method to get out of this situation.

The first step is to look at the boxes, to see if his shots damaged the vital box. If she can gauge how long she has until they shoot Box #45, she can still salvage this job and-

...

Kuroiwa is helped back onto her feet, and drops all panic as she sees a bullet hole. Whatever emotion she felt in that moment, turned to a completely blank and hopeless indifference, registering the sight before her.

A bullet hole. A hole made by a bullet, damaging the cardboard box and possibly whatever is inside of it.

She sees the hole in Box #45.

Hm.