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#Story

9/28/2017 12:14:06 AM
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Red Streets

Why would a hunter ever enlist in New Monarchy? The city seems like such a confined cage compared to the wast, near infinite wilderness outside it after all. The city is a safe zone besides. No thrill or action to be had, Guardians who think that have likely only looked down on the city from atop the tower, walked its streets or talked to its people. Guess I can’t blame them, though. Titans get all too warped up in their wall surrounding the city and the threats outside them while the Warlocks spend their time either talking or reading about it in the cozy confines of their archives. Only a hunter would ever seek the streets themselves and that’s only if they were under house arrest. However, the city is just as vast and wild as the frontier or the jungles of Venus, maybe even worse, and there’s always plenty of action to go around if you know where to look for it. To the untrained eye it may look like utopia, the prime hope and heart of humanity, but New Monarchy has long since realized the flaw in humanity. For all their speeches about unity and how great humanity is, was, or could/will be again, there are plenty of those who seek to defy them. From wealthy politicians to lowlife street gangs, everyone is looking out for their own best interest and while New Monarchy seeks to protect the interest of humanity as a whole, they also employ agents to deal with whatever they see as a threat to the city and everyone living within it. This is all vaguely summed up in their fifth tenet: “To support the natural harmony of the City, and to actively dissuade any group or individual that might disrupt that harmony,”. Such agents are often referred to as “The Fifth's” among those who for one reason or another have come to know about them, though N.M would actively dissuade such agents existence as nothing more than rumors and propaganda. I’m one such an agent, a fifth if you like, and while most other guardians see me sporting N.M’s emblem and armory out in the field, few ever realize that it’s when I don’t I am doing N.M the biggest service. See, you can’t really blend in with a crowd of people while wearing the symbol of something greater or act as if you have the authority to be anything greater than what everyone else is. The clue is to act and look like everyone else. To be little more than everyone else, no exception. A citizen. No more, no less. Simple as that. That’s how you get access to the city’s true heart and can start building your own network. I doubt any of my contacts know who I’m working for or why I do what I do, or even the fact I’m a guardian, but that’s the prize to help keep the people safe. Sometimes it’s not about shooting the enemy in the head. Sometimes it's about keeping them alive and well, make them feel safe and comfortable before bringing them in to face justice. It’s as the sixth tenet says: “To hold all individuals, compacts, and alliances to the highest standards of productivity and right behavior.”. Today I’m upholding that tenant. Perched on top of a commercial building, I have secured myself a great vantage point for the evening. From here I can clearly watch the street below through the scope of my sniper rifle, but more importantly, the activity going on inside the warehouse opposite said street. It’s not often I carry my weapon around while in the city, except a knife and/or a concealed sidearm even though most days I have no need for either, but today I’ve had to make a rare exception. Through the glass of my scope I can clearly see a crowd of people slowly starting to gather. They enter one by one, careful, watchful. They likely know they are being watched. They just don’t know by whom or where the watcher would be. Like always the look to the streets, however, down dark alleyways and behind sharp corners, likely on the lookout for rival gangs. The gangs should be the least of their worries, though, but better they look for an enemy that isn’t there than to one they have yet to consider. “Do we have a target yet?” “I see plenty of shirts I like, but nothing I think you would agree with.” “Just make sure to get it done quietly.” “What? No party cannons and balloons? It is a surprise party, right? Or was it just a regular surprise, I forget...” The man on the other line of the radio doesn't answer. I might have pissed him off. I’m very good at that. However, I can’t let myself get too tense about the situation. I need to relax. Let the target wander into my sight instead of frantically looking about like an impatient Titan that haven’t hit anything all day. I need to breathe, let my body relax. The art is not in the shot, but the pull of the trigger. “But not to worry. If the information s’ any good he’ll show,” I continue with a shrug and a soft smile. “If?” “You never know, right? He might have a stomach ache and set this one out.” Now I’ve deficiently pissed him off. I just can’t help myself. I do this for a living after all. I’m a professional after all. He might not see it that way, which is why it’s so fun to joke about it. Silence. Could be his catching on. “So...what are you wearing this fine evening?” I ask coyly with a wry smile. Silence still. He might be a little grumpy. I should cheer him up. “Whatever it is I got this beautiful yellow jacket in my sights that would likely look great on you!” “Do you have the shoot?” he asks impatiently. “Really? You think I should buy it?” A low sigh. I smile. Usually I don’t have to interact much with the authorities or hierarchy, which is a blessing to them, I’m sure. I usually just get my orders, fulfill my mission and that’s the end of it. Traveller knows what might happen if I had to attend any of their prestigious parties or such. Still, we share a conmen goal. They might be more talk and flattery than anything, but at least they know to put me to good use where diplomacy or the justice system fails. I’m hardly what you’d call an upstanding citizen, a hero or worth telling about in fancy legends. Hell, I consider myself lucky if I avoid ending up in a rapport or mission summary. I value freedom more than anything, and yet I am tied to all manner of anchors trying to drag me down with them. So I’m a rebel, kind of. But as long as I’m doing what’s right who cares, really? “You know, I don’t really think that jacket would have suited you anyway. I’m going to have to shoot it down.” Bang. I can hardly feel the recoil of the rifle or hear the sound. I’m just so used to it. Switching to look back at the crowd inside the warehouse and everything remains as quiet as ever while the street outside is slowly being recolored. Sometimes it’s not about shooting the enemy in the head. Sometimes it is. All for the greater good and such. “Damn, that was a fine jacket too. Shame to see it go to waste.” “Well done, operative. We’ll take it from here.” “Just cleaning up the streets for me, will you? I tend to walk down there and I could hardly stand to get dirt on my shoes.” To support natural harmony of the City and to actively dissuade any group or individual that might disrupt that harmony. In other words, keep up the façade and clean up any mess that might leave a stain. N.M may seem clean and pristine, but really it's a dirty job they’re undertaking and I am the one causing a mess.

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