First mission

Exhaustion weighed heavily on each of their shoulders as the group made their way to the Gamblo family residence, the closest safe haven after their intense confrontation.

The massive estate loomed before them, its intricate stonework catching the last rays of sunlight. Their footsteps crunched against the gravel path, each step a reminder of their weariness.

As they approached the entrance, Gable stood waiting, his tall figure casting a long shadow in the evening light. His immaculate uniform stood in stark contrast to their battle-worn appearances. Upon seeing them, he immediately bowed with practiced formality, his movements precise despite the late hour.

"No need for bowing," Larry said, waving his hand dismissively. The formality felt out of place after such a grueling fight, and his muscles protested even this simple gesture.

"Thanks master! I'm grateful you took care of my personal matters," Gable straightened up, genuine appreciation evident in his voice. His eyes carried a mix of respect and relief, suggesting the weight of the situation they'd just resolved.

Larry shrugged, his shoulders still tense from the earlier battle. Small sparks of pain shot through his overworked muscles. "It's understandable! The fight ended as a draw after all."

Hime's face twisted with barely contained frustration as she interjected, brushing a strand of hair from her face with an irritated flick. "It would've been better if we could have made a name for ourselves but that woman Zienna made that impossible." Her words carried the bitter taste of a missed opportunity, and her fingers unconsciously traced the edge of a fresh bruise on her arm.

"I told you not to take her lightly," Gable responded, his tone carrying a hint of 'I told you so.' His expression softened as he noticed their various injuries. "I hope this serves as a great lesson."

Before the conversation could devolve into a post-mortem of their recent failure, Raxa's voice cut through the tension like a knife through butter. "We'll talk later! Let's have dinner for now!" Her stomach punctuated her words with a well-timed growl.

The suggestion of food seemed to lift everyone's spirits, especially Larry's. They made their way through the mansion's polished corridors to the dining room, where servants had already prepared a feast worthy of their exhausted state.

Crystal chandeliers cast warm light over the long mahogany table, which groaned under the weight of various dishes. The aroma of freshly cooked meals filled the air, temporarily pushing aside thoughts of their recent encounter. Steam rose from bowls of soup, and the smell of freshly baked bread made their mouths water.

Larry ate with particular vigor, his spoons

moving at an impressive speed as he demolished plate after plate. He finished his meal first among the group, setting down his utensils with a satisfied sigh.

While others continued their dinner, the quiet clinking of silverware providing a gentle backdrop, he found himself drawn to the window. The moon hung like a silent observer in the night sky, its pale light casting long shadows across the garden below. His thoughts wandered to the bet he'd lost, the opportunities that had slipped through their fingers like grains of sand.

Hime noticed his contemplative state and approached, her own dinner finished. Her footsteps were nearly silent on the plush carpet. "No need for being so low," she said, standing beside him. "We've got ourselves the first biggest mission we could ever get as a newly established gang." The moonlight caught the determination in her eyes.

Larry's interest piqued immediately, his reflection in the window showing renewed focus. "What mission?"

"To capture the infamous mercenary Stitch Zilant," Hime replied, a glint of excitement in her eyes. She leaned against the window frame, her posture casual but her tone serious. "He is a man of great power and he's the perfect hunt for us if we want to make big names for ourselves right off the bat."

"Where can we find him and what's his power?" Larry turned fully toward her now, his earlier melancholy forgotten in the face of this new prospect. The moonlight cast half his face in shadow, giving him an almost theatrical appearance.

Hime crossed her arms, adopting a more serious posture. Her shadow on the wall seemed to stretch and sharpen. "He's to be found after two days from now on. He's landing on this city on a plane to assassinate a scientist that discovered the cure for any type of snake poisoning."

"That's such a groundbreaking invention!" Larry's eyes widened at the implications, his mind already racing with possibilities.

"I know right," Hime nodded emphatically, her fingers drumming against her arm. "But that bastard loves snakes and kills his enemy by poisoning so it'll be a hindrance for his work. Thus this mission is for personal reasons."

"How did you figure out he's coming?" Larry's voice dropped lower, conscious of the servants clearing dishes in the background.

"The thing is he sent a letter to the scientist and he has contacted us for protection." Hime's voice matched his volume, creating a bubble of privacy in the large room.

Larry's enthusiasm bubbled over, his previous exhaustion momentarily forgotten. "Let's freaking do it then!"

Hime held up a cautionary hand, her rings catching the light. "I get the hyped up attitude but he's very swift and meticulous in his job. You can say he never keeps a loose end on his every job. Besides, it's personal this time so it would be heftier in terms of attempted murder."

"I get it all but what's his power?" Larry pressed, trying to gauge what they were up against. His fingers unconsciously traced patterns on the window glass.

"We don't know! Very little information is known about him." Hime's admission hung in the air like fog.

Larry's shoulders slumped, his reflection showing his disappointment. "Great! Why is it always me!?"

Raxa, who had been silently observing their conversation from her position near the fireplace, stepped forward. The crackling flames cast dancing shadows across her face. "Don't worry I'll be on the move with you this time."

The tension in Larry's shoulders visibly eased, like ice melting in spring. "That's reassuring!"

"Then should I prepare an interception mission plan?" Hime asked, already shifting into tactical mode, her fingers twitching as if already writing notes.

"Go at it girl!"

Hime's expression soured slightly, her nose wrinkling. "Now don't be too friendly weakass!"

Larry felt his blood pressure rise at her attitude, fantasizing briefly about strangling her. The crystal glasses on the nearby table seemed to vibrate with his irritation. Raxa, ever perceptive, picked up on his thoughts.

"I can hear your thoughts but we need her," she said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I know! I wouldn't kill someone for a lame insult," Larry assured her, forcing his hands to relax.

"I know!" Raxa agreed, watching as Hime left the room, her footsteps echoing down the hallway, already focused on planning their next move.

With the mission still two days away, they decided to celebrate their new opportunity with wine. Servants brought out bottles of aged vintage, their labels promising quality that matched the mansion's grandeur. The party grew increasingly rowdy as the night wore on, everyone drinking far more than they should. Stories were shared, jokes were told, and even Gable loosened up enough to share a few embarrassing tales from his early days of service. Eventually, they stumbled to their respective rooms, the alcohol ensuring a quick descent into sleep.

Morning arrived with brutal efficiency as a ray of sunlight pierced through Larry's curtains, striking his face with unwelcome brightness. The silk sheets offered little protection against the day's intrusion. As consciousness slowly returned, bringing with it a pounding headache, he became aware of another presence in his room. Opening his eyes, he found Hime sitting beside his bed, her perfect posture and alert expression almost offensive in their morning freshness. The sight nearly caused him to jump out of his skin.

"What you doing here?" he demanded, his voice still rough from sleep and too much wine.

"To wake you up! You've been sleeping two hours more than usual," she replied matter-of-factly, checking an expensive-looking watch on her wrist.

"Oh come on! Not my sleep time also," Larry groaned, pulling his pillow over his face. The soft material did little to block out the reality of morning.

Hime's temper flared, her voice sharp enough to cut through his hangover. "Very well! Don't wake up for forever."

"Damn it!" Larry sat up, frustration evident in every movement. His head protested the sudden change in position.

"Don't curse me! Let's get on to business," Hime snapped back, her patience clearly wearing thin.

Recognizing defeat, Larry sighed, the sound carrying years of resignation. "I'll be right with you let me get fresh for now."

Hime left him to his morning routine, during which Larry took care of his necessary ablutions and tried to shake off the lingering effects of their celebratory drinking. The hot water helped clear his head, but couldn't completely wash away the consequences of last night's excesses. Once he felt somewhat human again, he made his way to his office, straightening his collar as he walked through the sunlit corridors.

He found Hime standing beside his chair with an air of rigid determination, her shadow stretching across his polished desk like a warning. The morning light streaming through the windows did nothing to soften her businesslike demeanor.

Larry settled into his chair, the leather creaking slightly under his weight as he prepared himself for whatever she had planned. "What needs to be done?"

In response, Hime unleashed an avalanche of papers onto his desk, the sudden deluge causing Larry's inner voice to mutter a resigned "Shit!" as he stared at the mountain of documents before him.

The hangover that had been lurking at the edges of his consciousness chose that moment to make its presence known with renewed vigor, promising a long and challenging day ahead.

The papers settled like fresh snow across his desk, each one representing another piece of the complex puzzle they were about to tackle.