11:39:25PM
The subdivision of Oak Street is filled with nothing but quietness; the place felt like a nice neighborhood, no fights, and no chaos.
Except…
"We're in the subdivision, house number 76 just like you said," Hollist said through the earpiece.
Back at the mansion; Shinji, watches them through a big flat-screen monitor. Crossing his arms feeling like a professional general.
"So you're currently outside the street dogs lair," He turned to Riles who's incharged to hack every surveillance inside the lair. "How many guards are watching the entrance?"
"Two, each corners inside the entrance," Riles replied tapping the keyboard.
"How do they get in?"
Riles squinted his eyes as he leaned closer to the monitor, "The walls are made out of wood, I believe Derek's silenced pistol would do."
"Yeah," Derek quietly laughed mischievously; he quickly positioned himself in front of the entrance. His pistols aimed between two walls.
Before he could take the shot.
6 Hours ago
Shinji and Hollist stepped into X18's gear room; Each light came alive with a deep chunk, rattling the ceiling panels.
X18's gear was just standing in the middle like a million dollar prize; Hollist eyes lit up as he stare at the gear in awe.
"An idea came to my mind, since it would take time for Derek to train you. I would let you use X18's stealth gear." Shinji smirked.
During the mission
"Hollist — you know the drill, once the both of you entered, activate it. Let Derek hunt his preys," Riles said through the earpiece.
Derek pulled the trigger, the sound of the pistol was so silent, it felt like a small object fell on the carpet.
Not so quiet, yet not so loud enough to wake the neighboors.
The bullet went pass through killing two guards between corners; Derek, slowly tilts the doorknob and carefully pushed the door open.
"What are we here again for?" Derek asked.
The earpiece went static for a bit, "Uhm, you're here to steal the case of Encyclophin a rare black substance, It's kinda like drugs for the street dogs," Riles replied.
"Alright, Derek —" before Hollist could even turn to him, he's not beside him anymore. "Where the hell…"
Then gunfire.
"EXPRESS DELIVERY! TELL YOUR ANCESTORS I SAID HI!" Derek roared from the living room, pistols blazing.
"Pew! Pew!"
Two clean headshots. The room erupted into chaos.
"That lunatic!" Hollist hissed.
"Activate the suit and get to the basement!" Riles barked.
Without thinking, Hollist pressed the button on his arm. His body shimmered and vanished into the shadows.
Meanwhile, Derek was already living his best action-movie fantasy.
"Alright, who wants a human pizza?!" he yelled, grabbing a pizza cutter from the counter and dragging it across a thug's face.
"AAAHHH—!!"
Another guy swung a bat at him, while one more aimed a rifle.
Derek lunged — kicked the rifleman in the gut, snatched the weapon, and pulled the trigger before the guy could even gasp.
BANG! — headshot.
BANG! — face.
BANG! — neck.
Blood sprayed everywhere — walls, floor, even Derek's face.
The guy swings a metal bat; Derek blocks it with his arm, then headbutts him so hard he drops it.
Derek catches the bat mid-fall, spins it once, and smacks him across the temple — the crack echoes through the room.
"Man, you should've joined baseball."
The guy collapses instantly, blood pouring from his nose and mouth.
He spun around, spotting another guy with a knife.
"Here, catch this."
He yanked the pin from a grenade and shoved it into the man's mouth, kicking him straight into his buddies.
BOOM!
The explosion painted the walls red. Bits of body parts rained down like confetti.
Derek stood in the middle of it all, breathing hard, grinning.
"I'm not satisfied, Shinji!" he shouted.
Back at HQ, Shinji, Riles, and Fred were frozen — mouths open, eyes wide.
Meanwhile, across the street, an old lady trembled by her window, clutching her phone.
"Y-yes, officer," she stammered, staring at the burning house. "Oak Street… house number 76."
"Understood, ma'am. Police are on their way."
At the basement
Hollist walked quietly through the shadows; the basement walls are filled with crack, a strong pungent smell fills the air — like a dead living being just rotted here.
Killing isn't his excellence — but being a ghost is.
His feet instinctively avoided every obstacle scattered on the ground: broken pipes, sticks, and a squishy toy.
There's a red door to his left; a knife is stuck in it.
He walked closer and pressed his ear against the door; voices echoed from inside, and a loud rap track blasted through a speaker.
"Even if I'm invisible opening the door is a stupid thing," he muttered.
Hollist eyes wandered around the basement until he spots a power switch at the corner. He didn't think for a second; he walked towards it and pulled out a small knife from his pocket.
He wasn't planning on pulling the lever, he's cutting the wire.
He, first removed the screws then opened the lid where the wires we're quietly sitting, then he picked two wires — red and blue.
His knife cut through the wire like paper, then —
The lights suddenly went off with a loud chunk.
"Yo?!" one of the thugs shouted.
"Probably God's punishing you for being too damn loud, huh?" the other said, laughing deliriously — his voice slurred like he was high.
Hollist walked to the corner and stayed still waiting for the thugs to check the power switch outside.
One thug kicked the door open before pulling out a gun wedged between his waist and pants.
Then another thug emerged from the room, then another, and another.
"Yo! Someone busted this shit!" The thug exclaimed as he checks the power switch.
"Yeah no shit, the lid was open and the wires are busted," said the other thug.
Hollist slowly stepped into the room. His eyes caught the gray case sitting quietly in the corner, while a tall thug muttered to himself, lost in his own world, while sitting on the red couch.
"hehe," the thug chuckled as he stares at the ceiling.
Hollist rolled his eyes and snatched the gray case. The thug's head snapped toward it, eyes wide.
"Uhh… guys! The case is… floating."
"Did you take too much Encyclophin? Save some for the rest of us!" someone yelled from outside.
"No, I'm serious!" the first thug protested.
"Shut up and stay quiet! I'm fixing the power—"
Before he could finish, gunfire ripped through the room.
"HOLY SHIT—!" The thug tried to grab his gun, but a loud shot cut him off.
The delirious thug snapped back to reality; he quickly got up from the couch, picking the gun on the table.
"Yo?!" He aimed his pistol at the open door, moving forward cautiously.
Summoning all his courage, he stepped outside—and froze. Nothing but the corpses of his crew sprawled across the floor.
"What the—"
Before he could finish, an axe slammed into his head. Blood gushed, running down his face in thick streams.
He crumpled to the ground, the axe still lodged in his skull.
"Alright Hollist you can come out now," Derek said, his body covered in blood.
"You're crazy," Hollist replied as he turned off his stealth mode.
"You can say that again, I formed a word for Marquez in the living room."
"You mean wrote?"
"No, formed."
At the living room Hollist's eyes were widened at the sight; Shinji, Riles, and Fred who was watching from the monitor did the same thing too.
On the floor several body parts from the corpse of Marquez's crew was used to form a word saying, MARQUEZ!!!
"Wait, why do we hate this guy again?" Derek asked.
Hollist looked at him dead in the eyes; sirens wailed outside, "I keep hearing gun fires inside this house," Said the lady outside, her voice is weak, must be a senior.
"Okay Ma'am we're handling this," Said the officer outside.
Hollist went back into stealth mode, vanishing in the air. Derek, was standing pulling out a flash grenade waiting for the right time.
The door cracked open then slammed against the wall with a loud bang, "Police put your hands up!"
Derek was standing still; hands behind his back pulling the pin of the flash grenade.
"What do you call a deaf and blind policeman?" Derek asked, grinning like a kid on sugar.
"Uh… arms and legs?" The officer's eyes darted to the floor, noticing the mess. "Marquez…?"
"I need an answer!" Derek shouted, voice sharp.
"Psycho…" the cop muttered under his breath before yelling, "Put your hands up or we'll use force!"
"I NEED AN ANSWER! What do you call a deaf and blind policeman!?" Derek roared.
"W-what?"
"Meat… for my flashbang salad!"
He tossed the grenade, and in a blink, a blinding flash erupted, followed by a deafening KRAKOOM! that could shatter ten eardrums.
"HAHAHA!" Derek burst out of laughter as he jumped outside the window.
Hollist who was following him randomly appeared from his side; both of them ran as fast as they could before the police recovers from the blindness.
"You're freaking crazy," Hollist said, panting, "...But great job taking out those street dogs, who knows if Marquez would send his man to us. Y'know getting some payback?"
"I'll be there..." Derek snickered.
Hollist laughed it out, shaking his head. "You really are something else, huh?"
"Because I'm your best friend," Derek replied, poking Hollist's nose with a grin.
Hollist felt a shiver crawl down his spine; every tiny hair on his body standing on end. "…You seriously just said that?" he muttered, voice sharp and flat, radiating pure anti-cringe.
Derek tilted his head, still smiling like he hadn't heard a thing. "Yeah? You don't like it? C'mon, man, it's cute."
Hollist pinched the bridge of his nose, groaning. "Cute? That's… painfully cringy. Stop doing that. Just… stop."
Derek chuckled, poking him again. "Aww, you're all flustered! Admit it, ghost-boy, you love it."
Hollist narrowed his eyes, his voice low and deadly calm. "Love it? I'd rather let a grenade blow my face off than hear that ever again."
Derek laughed even harder, clearly enjoying the reaction. "Ooooh, grumpy much? I like it. Makes kicking ass together way more fun."
Hollist sighed, vanishing into stealth mode, muttering under his breath. "If surviving this doesn't kill me, you're cringy ass definitely will…"
They finally reached the black sports car outside the guard house, Hollist appeared again then tossed Derek the keys, "You drive."
"Alright, anything for my best friend."
"Dude... just stop."
Derek started the engine; the sports car purred like a beast waking up. "Okay, wear your seat—"
Derek punched the gas. The car shot forward, hugging the curves of the subdivision streets; Hollist leaned back, arms crossed, eyes darted to the perimeter.
As soon as Derek spotted the highway, his grin widened. He slammed his foot on the gas, and the black sports guy leapt forward like a predator released from its cage. The needle climbed fast—120kmp/h in what felt like seconds—and the subdivision behind them blurred into streaks of dim streetlights and fences.
Derek slammed the wheel to the right, tires screeching like crazy. The dog—some poor stray—jumped outta the way just in time, tail tucked and running for its life.
"Derek, slow down—watch out for the dog!" Hollist yelled, gripping the seat like it was about to launch into space.
"Relax, I got this," Derek shouted, grinning like a maniac. The car fishtailed a bit, but he somehow straightened it out like it was nothing.
Streetlights blurred into streaks as they ripped down the highway, engine roaring. Hollist couldn't help but feel that mix of terror and… wow, this guy's actually insane.
"I love my job," Derek started wheezing, his smile grew wider reaching his ears, his pupils dilated, "I'm sure they'll get their payback—but first, we'll get our hands dirty."
Hollist just sits there— on the passenger seat, "I'd make sure those fools won't lay a finger on Shinji, I'm grateful he gave me this job," he added.