Saying Hello To A New Crew Chap. 5: (AD,AD)

Another Day, Another Dollar

(Takes place at the same time as Chapter 4)
*BEEP BEEP BEEP*
*Hard thump*
Great, it's 4:00 A.M. Gotta get dressed up and prepare for another day in this shithole. In the old days, I would have been able to wake up to silk sheets next to a model (who may or may not have been my client) and have a nice cup of Starbucks within the hour. Now, I'm drinking a shitty local brew out of a 5 cent cup I got from the market downstairs. Instead of a gourmet breakfast made by the client's personal chef, I get microwave pizza and pop-tarts. Instead of a luxurious bathroom with a shower and a hot tub, I get a moldy ass bathroom with walls so thin, I can hear the man shitting up a storm in the next room. Worst of all, instead of my glorious arsenal of weapons and gadgets I have a Hi-Point. A FUCKING JAM-O-MATIC, FEELS LIKE SHIT, CAN'T HIT A FUCKING TARGET HI-POINT.
*chuckling*
Wait... You actually think I was serious when I said that? No, not the bit about how Hi-Points are shit (cause they are) but the point about losing my arsenal. Trust me when I say this, I would quite literally sell a kidney before I let my babies go. Truth be told, they've gotten me through thick and thin and have saved my ass more times than I can count. But what do I even have? Well, you might want to sit down for this one.

One Tactical Plate Carrier with Ceramic inserts. Sure, it's heavy as hell and makes sitting down kinda awkward but it makes killing me a HELL of a lot harder.
One Kevlar Ballistic Facemask. Great for dealing with your standard tough with their Glocks or Uzi's and even concealing my identity, it's would be perfect for my current job. However, it restricts my view and gets hot as fuck after a couple of minutes in the sun. As such, I usually keep it off during the day unless I'm REALLY fucked.
One FN P90
Chambered in the SS190 variant of FN 5.7×28mm, it has a 50 round box magazine and full-auto capability. As such, she's my choice for dealing with people behind cover or those with body armor. Unfortunately, feeding her is an absolute bitch due to the rarity of the round in this part of the world and it's stopping power is dubious.
One Colt Delta Elite
Chambered in 10mm Auto, it's able to penetrate most soft body armor and punch even the ones with ceramics down at times. Based on the 1911 pistol, this gun was born to deal with high recoil without fail. Provided with appropriate recoil dampening provided by an attached suppressor and improved internals it's capable of surprisingly controllable Full-Auto fire. That's right, FULL FUCKING AUTO.
"But Ryan" I hear you whine,
"Full Auto out of a Pistol is already hard enough with guns like the Baretta 93R! With 10mm it's like you want to snap your hand off!"
You have a point there dear reader. 10mm isn't for everyone due to its high recoil. However, I only flick that giggle switch when I have a nice two-handed grip on the gun. Also, the suppressor really helps by giving the gas a place to expand instead of shooting out the barrel like a fucking jet engine. It even has the added benefit of making the gun really quiet.
"What type of no-guns faggot are you Ryan? SUPPRESSORS DON'T MAKE GUNS WHISPER QUIET YOU FUCKING IDIOT!"
Well, I don't know what type of  Fourth Reich runs Europe, Literal Socialists running for president, College students rioting and calling conservative jews nazis, commie-run California type shitty universe you're in but here, they make guns whisper quiet.
(Authors note: In the Black Lagoon cannon, Suppressors basically work like magic. In the interest of being in said cannon (and cause rule of cool) I'm gonna stick with that. Feel free to hate me when you comment.)
Moving on, I also have a Saga-12.
Patterned after an AK but chambered for 12-Gauge shotgun shells, this is my "Go Fuck Yourself" gun. To be honest, it's nothing special. Just a shortened barrel for easier concealment and use and a folding stock so I can put it under my coat. The real surprise is the rounds I put into it. Now, where are my testing notes?
Napalm shells.
Description: Napalm inserted into a shotgun shell.
Designed to be a glob of fire that burns target and start fires.
Result: Failure. Can't penetrate for shit. No fireballs either.
Continues on next page...
Wait... Where the fuck are the other pages?

Shit. I forgot that I added to my notes while on the shitter last night. Now, where did I leave off?
Fire shells.
Description: Magnesium pellets loaded into a shotgun shell.
Designed to set fires 100 ft away and stun enemies.
Result: Meh. Sometimes works, sometimes doesn't. Too expensive considering its reliability issues.

Exploding slugs(Variant 1).
Description: Hollowed out shotgun slugs. Loaded with a pressure sensitive detonator on the tip and high explosives in the center.
Result: Success. Anyone within 3 feet of the explosion is killed or at least injured. Ballistic face masks are ineffective at stopping shards from penetrating cranium.

Exploding slugs (Variant 2)
Description: Hollowed out shotgun slugs. Loaded with a pressure sensitive detonator on the tip and high explosives in the center. Explosives are shaped in a cone in an attempt to penetrate armor.
Result: Meh. Compared to Variant 1 this is not very useful. It's more difficult to make and is only a one trick pony.

Note: Apparently it's a war crime to use explosives under 400 grams. Then again, that law only applies to countries who signed it/groups who lost wars. I'm neither of those.

Explosive Butane Lighter.
Description: Standard Butane lighter used for lighting cigars/cigarettes. Storage space is limited due to cavity put aside for high explosive charge. Injures anyone within 1 foot of device.
Result: Sucess. Fucked up some ankles a few weeks ago. Just try not to trigger device when lighting a smoke.

Butane Torch.
Description: Small butane torch. Burns at around         2,610 °F. It can melt many common metals and set fire to most organic compounds. Perfect for breaking and entering.
Result: It works. After all, I just bought it from a home goods store.

Electronic Watch.
Description: Just your standard black electronic watch. Tells time, date and has a stopwatch feature. Has a hidden tracking beacon (activated/deactivated by pressing the correct button code) and a slot for a shiv capable of circumventing handcuffs/ cutting rope (given enough time).
Result: Works in testing. Haven't been able to try it out in a real scenario yet.

Weapon notes:
P90, Saga 12, and Colt Delta Elite magazines are VERY hard to come by in this city. Have to custom order them from the Church in bulk. Also, needing to pick them up after every gunfight is getting annoying. May need to invest in a Glock or two.

Colt Delta Elites (I have two now) are modified for ambidextrous use. Also, I have a few 18 round extended mags custom made. However, using both at the same time accurately is difficult and reloading is a bitch. I have to hold one gun in my mouth while reloading and then ram the second mag into the gun while I'm holding it.

New Glock 17MBs (the ambidextrous variant of the Glock 17) came in. Planning to use them as a backup for my Colts.  They are now holstered behind my back (right below the plate carriers). Modified for full auto fire via a switch on the back plate, these things are my go to once the Colts run dry.

Note: Apparently there are two (or three) gunmen in Roanapur who successfully dual wield pistols. May want to take notes about their methods of reloads/ operation.

You still there? Good.  Hopefully, I didn't bore you with the stupid amount of things in those notes.

Anyway, back to my shitty life. Now, I guarded people who were targeted by other assholes. The only difference now is that instead of high-value targets with deep pockets, I get to guard some whorehouse downtown against sick fucks who wanted their jollies for free.  God damn Minotaur security.  Taking MY fucking jobs and gloating over me about it.  I sincerely hope that someone kills Mr. Smith and his smug "I fucking win" face. Shit, if anyone does kill him, I would gladly pay their drinking tab for the next fucking year.

(Later that day)

Is my boss motioning to me? Yup. Looks like he is.
"Go take care of fatso over there Ryan."
 Speak for yourself boss. You're a good 50 pounds heavier than that 300 LB lard bucket.
"NOW PLEASE!"
Great. Now he seems pissed. Better respond quick.
"Just let me do my job sir."
At least he seems happy about not having to do this himself.
As I pushed out fatso with a cattle prod I borrowed from one of the "performers" I realized what type of shit I was in. No, not the metaphorical type. I'm talking about the literal shit that I accidentally stepped in. The worst part was, it was liquid with a few chunks of "stuff" floating around.  God damn it. At least this day can't get any worse.

(3 Hours later)

"Alrighty then."
Allways nice to talk in small words to toughs.
"It's just a simple break in, kill an idiot and get out operation."
The man who offered me the job simply nodded. I simply smirked at this.
"After all," I thought,
 "If this guy's new to the city, then he'll probably shit up a storm in a couple of hours. Just wait and shoot him once he's done"

(One hour later)

And he's off to the races. Truth be told, I got 1,000 dollars for this job and I'm not gonna let this go at this point. After spending 10 dollars to book the room next to his, I simply waited for his explosive diarrhea to start while cleaning my guns. Now, it's just a matter of breaking in. While I could just knock the thin door down, I prefer to go in quietly. Gives me more time to get out and even search the target for any valuables.

"Let's see what we got.  A standard door knob lock with no deadbolt. What a fucking joke."
Too fucking easy. As I grabbed a pick to jiggle the lock with, the target started screaming
"OH GOD! WHY THE FUCK DID I EAT THOSE PORK PIES!     I SHOULD HAVE BOUGHT STOOL SOFTNERS!!"
Poor guy. No one deserves to have a shit too big for their asshole. Now, just gotta pick the lock without anyone looking. Left side, No one there. Same with the right side.
As I opened the now unlocked door, I noticed that there was a door chain attached preventing me from opening the door fully. So I grabbed my butane torch and melted it in two. After a minute, the chain snapped and I was able to open the door fully. Now at this point, I could have shot the man while he was shitting. However, there are some lines that I just won't cross no matter what. Instead, I simply searched around his room for any valuables.
As I looked, I started mumbling again.
"Let's see here.  As Swiss bank account number and some assorted jewelry." Probably gonna be able to get a good 10K out of those two items. What else do we have?
"50 rounds of 9mm"
Goody. I'm never the type of person to decline free ammo.
 "and a *ahem* book simply titled "Welcome To The Fucking Paradise"
 Apparently, it's starring someone called "Miss R".
(Authors note:  By the way, this actually exists. Just Google it.)
Never heard of her, but it seems good enough. I think I'm gonna keep it for later. All in all, not a bad contract for me.

Oh, look! It seems like the guy is done shitting!

He then walked out of the bathroom with a look of relief and discomfort on his face. Turning to his bed, he noticed me and started panicking.

"What! Who are you?" He said wide-eyed.

"No one really. Just a guy completing a job."
As I said that, I pulled out one of my Colts and shot him in the chest. He collapsed almost immediately and died when I put one in his head for good measure.

After picking up the valuables I found, I celebrated its completion. After all, you gotta enjoy the little things in life.
'Jobs done!" I said joyfully. "Time to get a fucking drink!"
Besides, I heard of a place called the Yellow Flag that constantly has jobs for people like me. But before I left, I made sure to close and lock the door and put a "Do not disturb sign" on the doorknob.

Talk about an easy paycheck.
(Next Chapter: https://pastebin.com/7a0ExT30)
(It Ain't Revy's Fault)