Capítulo 122: Chapter 118: Three Years In The Making
BAM
BAM
BAM
Ricky's eyes snapped open, hearing a banging and his instincts kicking in as his muscles tensed as his eyes blackened.
Chastifold manifested into his palm, kicking open the door only not to see any form of an intruder, but Johnny slamming his bowl onto the table.
Sigh
Putting on a shirt, Ricky walked over to the unruly children who wanted to fill their stomachs.
"Johnny, really?" Ricky asked, his expression one of mild exasperation as he rubbed his eyes causing John to pout, and without missing a beat, Ricky scooped him up into his arms.
"Let me guess, you want breakfast?" Ricky asked Johnny, who stubbornly nodded his head, clearly upset that his usual breakfast was taking too long.
Plopping him down in his booster seat, Ricky walked to the fridge, only to have Zatanna grab his leg.
"Hehehehehe~" Zatanna laughed madly as Ricky continued to walk, her little hands gripping his leg, with Johnny eventually joining in, giggling as he grabbed onto Ricky's other leg.
A couple of minutes later, Ricky made them breakfast and pried the kids off his legs, placing them in their chairs.
As he made his own breakfast and poured a cup of coffee, he picked up the newspaper and chuckled loudly at the headline.
'Ricky Luciano, a mutant who is fighting against America's way of life.'
"Ha, they're really annoyed aren't they? Good." Ricky sipped his coffee, a satisfied smirk tugging at his lips since bad publicity was still publicity, and he knew it could work to his advantage.
Just then, Agatha waltzed into the kitchen, wearing a night garment that clung to her body, covering the important parts while fully showcasing her sensual curves.
Thump
The table suddenly rattled as Ricky's gaze lingered on Agatha's body as the woman side-eyed him with a lustful smile, a playful wink accompanying her teasing expression.
"Darling, are you still sure you want to leave all of this?" Agatha twirled into his lap, wrapping her arms around Ricky, who held her close, a smirk tugging at his lips as he looked at her.
"I'm still going but-"
"Too bad, and here I thought there could be dessert for breakfast." Agatha suddenly pulled Ricky into a deep, sloppy kiss before breaking it with a playful grin.
"I'm going to shatter your pelvis when you come back." Agatha whispered into his ear, biting it slightly before sitting up as Ricky shuddered at the promise, his breath catching for a moment.
"My god woman, you cannot leave me like this-"
"Oh, I can and I will," Agatha teased, swaying her hips as she left the kitchen. Ricky bit his fist, watching her go, her final glance a tempting challenge.
He had to be strong, there were bigger things at stake, but the weight of her words lingered in the air, making it all the more difficult to tear himself away.
'Be strong, be f*cking strong!' Ricky thought to himself, standing up and kissing his kids goodbye.
"I'll be back soon, alright?" Ricky said, looking at Zatanna and Johnny but they barely registered his words, too focused on filling their stomachs to pay him any mind.
"Ok!" Zatanna happily munched on her toast, swaying her head side to side and doing a little dance as she ate.
"Hmph." Johnny gruffed, stuffing his face while clutching his teddy bear tightly.
Walking out the door, Ricky glanced back to see Agatha standing in the doorway, smiling and waving at him.
He returned her smile, a sense of warmth flooding through him before he looked towards her with one thought on his mind.
"What about a goodbye blowjob-"
Bam
The door slammed shut in his face, and Ricky nodded to himself, knowing that it was better to focus anyway.
He got into the car, the engine roaring to life as he drove off, his mind drifting between thoughts of Agatha and what was ahead.
His destination was clear but before anything he needed to say goodbye to Alina and Maria before leaving as he didn't want to drag it out, but he knew it was something that had to be done.
2 hours later,
After saying his goodbyes to Alina and Maria during two separate stops, Ricky arrived at the mansion to find a car waiting for him.
For this trip, the only ones accompanying him were Asterion, Jake, his lead council member Marshall, and his familiars.
They were going to drive in two separate cars, with the primary reason being that Asterion wanted to learn how to drive on the way to Texas.
Jake and Marshall would tail behind, keeping an eye on the amateur driver Asterion, while Ricky, curious to see how Asterion would fare, decided to accompany him in the car.
But first, Ricky was dealing with another headache in the form of rattling skeletons in the basement of the mansion.
Ricky had ordered the low-level skeleton soldiers to act as guards, buried within the grounds outside the mansion.
Now, he stood before the two who were assigned to stay behind and guard the internal areas.
The only problem being that these two endlessly bickered amongst themselves to no end as Ricky could sit at the side.
"You fool, don't you see our glorious masters plan?" Chuck gestured towards Ricky, hatefully gazing towards Boney.
"This is about securing the future, protecting our master's bloodline." Chuck stated a matter of factly, Ricky nodding at the side since he explained it as such.
"But that is not the entire reason." Chuck raised his undead chin, receiving confused glances.
"It's not?" Both Ricky and Boney said in unison, looking at Chuck equally confused.
"This is about trust, about loyalty, about proving ourselves worthy at standing next to our master in his plans of complete world domination." Chuck gripped his hands, looking fanatically into the distance.
"How can we merely attain the position at our masters' side without proving ourselves, without showing that we are worthy." Chuck clutched his ribcage, resting his hand above where his heart would've been.
"We must prove our worth as guards, then as soldiers, and finally aides at our masters' side." Chuck smiled, looking over at Boney who nodded heavily at this realization.
"I get it!" Boney pumped his fist, ready to show that he was worthy as Ricky stood even more confused at the side.
'I don't.' Ricky thought, coughing a bit but before he could ruin Chuck's parade, he saw what he thought was hope glimmering in his hollow eyes forcing him to sigh.
SIGH
'I'll just let him have this one, what's the worst thing that could happen?'
"Of course you figured it out, good job Chuck." Ricky applauded Chuck who merely bowed at his words.
"It was only through your guidance master that I was able to reach this state of thinking, I thank you." Chuck humbly showed his gratitude towards Ricky, watching his master slowly nod his head.
"Yeaaaaaaah, I gotta go so just keep doing what you're doing." Ricky's words make Chuck's hollow eyes sparkle, seemingly understanding the underlying meaning.
"I understand."
Ricky sort of walked out of the mansion, pondering about the greater meaning in his original words as he stopped outside the car.
'No, I'm pretty sure I only said 'Hey, can you two just guard inside the house since you're the strongest?'.' Ricky mulled over his own words, not truly knowing what to think after Chuck's entire monologue earlier.
"Eh, whatever." Ricky shrugged, opening the door to find Asterion hunched over and fiddling around with the car.
The father of all minotaurs was really excited about a long distance road trip with the amazing mechanical chariot.
So much so that when Ricky offered him the chance to drive, Asterion eagerly seized it and even now, the minotaur remained captivated by the various trinkets inside the car.
"Alright, listen up, Asterion. This is ten, and that's two." Ricky, already sliding into the front seat, guided the dazzled Asterion, who looked at the car as if it were a new toy.
"And how do I make this contraption go forward?" Asterion asked, his curiosity piqued while Ricky, meanwhile, pulled out a bottle of hell wine, eager to cruise through the road trip with a nice buzz.
"If I may, Asterion, those two pedals-" Chester began, but seeing Ricky preparing to crack open the bottle of hell wine he'd heard so much about, he quickly darted to the dashboard.
Chester then started giving Asterion an impromptu, overly detailed explanation on how to drive a car.
It ranged from the most minute details, like adjusting the mirrors, to how exactly to drive the car.
Asterion listened intently, absorbing every word with the focus of someone learning a new language.
Meanwhile in the backseat, Garfield lazily laid on his side while Alexander opened a fresh new deck of cards.
"Why do you always play a game that ends with you losing?" Garfield sighed, swishing his tail in the air while scratching his stomach, as Alexander shook his head.
"Why live when we all die?" Alexander wondered out loud, shuffling the cards as Garfield raised a brow.
"Why laugh when one day we might cry?" Alexander then dealt those cards, until there were three sets.
"The best part about victory is the effort we give to reach it." Alexander explained, looking at his cards while imparting advice onto Garfield.
Sigh
"I still don't see the point and I want to take a nap, so unless you can somehow convince me then goodnight." Garfield leaned back, shifting in place to find a comfortable spot to settle down as Alexander puffed out his chest.
Ahem
"Go Fish is a noble game, a valiant plunge into the depths of the mind-" Alexander began, professing his love for the game as Garfield rolled his eyes, only to suddenly make eye contact with Chester.
5 minutes later,
"W-What? When did I get these cards?!" Garfield's fur stood on end as he stared at the reader, bewildered by the sudden retcon.
"Do you have any three's?" Chester, the one responsible, asked only for Garfield to read the text and duck his head upon the crow squinting his eyes.
"N-No." Garfield ducked his head, obviously intimidated by-
"I am not intimidated, merely going along with my fellow familiar's games," Garfield lied poorly, frowning as he realized that everyone except him could tell he was lying as the cat was clearly in denial.
"You're in denial." Garfield muttered, prying a pair of jacks from Alexander who crumbled in place.
"Man, if Mephisto wasn't such a dick, I'd make a deal with him for a steady flow of this wine," Ricky lamented, clutching the bottle tightly as it was one of the best liquors he'd ever had.
"Ricky, you should be very wary of that little conniving demon." Asterion warned Ricky who sighed, taking a sip of the wine and slumping further into his chair.
"What's his deal, anyway? I mean, the guy is just erect for my soul." Ricky glanced at Asterion, who was grinning from ear to ear as they drove through New York, before shaking his head.
"Ah, I apologize, Mephisto is obsessed with souls because his dimension isn't classified as a hell dimension but he merely displays it as one." Asterion clarified, knowing that Ricky wouldn't know such an obvious thing since he hasn't trekked into that world as of yet.
"What does that even mean?" Ricky, following Asterion's assumption, asked for clarification.
"It means that, unlike other underworlds which receive a constant influx of souls, Mephisto has to constantly outsource from the human world to collect them." Asterion explained, looking at the speedometer to maintain the speed limit.
"He does this because underworlds grow stronger with every death, meaning he can never stay in one place and must constantly find ways to rival their power." Asterion sighed, acknowledging the effort but clearly bitter about the methods Mephisto used.
"Wait so, he's not the devil? Then why is it such a big deal that he acts as one or even portrays himself as that?" Ricky raised an eyebrow, asking his questions only for Asterion to shake his head.
"He is technically a devil, but at the same time, he is not." Asterion explained, stopping to register his words as you could see from his clear hesitance that it was a peculiar subject.
"Mephisto was born from the death of Demogorge, the dark energy that resulted from his demise had given birth to three demons, including Mephisto." Asterion continued, knowing the story that Mephisto had told Daedlus.
"I do not know if this is the real story since Mephisto has changed it many times, but the one he told Daedlus goes as follows 'I sprouted from the wilting of Demogorge, the blood seeping into the ground and blossoming three bulbs, however two of the bulbs were weeds and corrupted the innocent flower before it could properly bloom, leaving the bulb forced to show it's petals to the world, all by itself' and this story has changed but what has always remained a constant was that Mephisto is not privy to the authority of death." Asterion explained, almost losing Ricky in the process since it was a lot to digest and even when he was confused, the minotaur didn't stop his words.
"Authorities are typically granted to gods or earned through various means." Asterion began, speaking to Ricky with a calm, methodical tone.
"But to put it simply, these authorities channel direct power into a specific trait or ability. It's like a focused force, something attuned to strength, wisdom, or even something more abstract, like luck or death. Gods, or those who gain authority, tap into this concentrated power, making them more dominant in that particular area. It's not about control over everything; it's about amplifying one key aspect of their being." Asterion knew all too well of these traits, since he was in possession of one himself.
"Even though I was born with a trait of strength, Mephisto was not given a single one." Asterion actually pitied the demon for a second before regaining himself.
"Mephisto has his own dimension that was given to him by birth, but none of the authority that should've gone with it and thus, needs to proactively gain souls in order to maintain and strengthen his dimension, and power." Asteiron concluded, slightly turning onto the highway but his speed was that of an old lady.
"In my opinion it is a point of pride to him since although he is not a death god, he has been mistaken as satan and thus must have convinced himself, along with everything else, that he is one." Asterion gave his thoughts, thinking that the identity attached to him has already forced that path for Mephisto.
"But as I stated prior, not many know his origins since he always tells a different story, but one thing's for sure: he's someone who cannot be trusted," Asterion warned, waving his finger and prompting Ricky to nod, yawning as he leaned his seat back.
"Deal me in." Ricky said, almost upside down, holding out his hand and Chester promptly placed the cards into his grip.
"Do you have any eights?" Ricky asked, taking a swig of his wine. Alexander's face went ashen.
"Ha!" Ricky laughed, feeling like he was taking candy from a baby, as he settled more comfortably into his seat.
3 hours later,
"Finally~" Ricky let out a relieved sigh, placing down a pair as Alexander fell to his gerbil knee's, Chester nodded, and Garfield rolled his eyes.
"Exactly my words, this boring game has taken enough of my time." Garfield threw the cards into the pile as any poor loser would.
Honestly, for the past three hours, Chester had been wiping the floor with them until Ricky finally won a round for himself, remembering first hand how good Chestser was at this game.
Ricky wondered what the outcome might be if Asterion and Chester ever squared off.
However, that showdown would have to wait, as the Minotaur seemed too captivated by the scenery of the State and the forest but the passing sign didn't read that they were leaving New York but instead the opposite, showing that they were driving upstate for some reason.
But the Minotaur was uncaring in this fact, having never driven cross-country at such a thrilling pace, Asterion was genuinely reveling in the journey as the wonders of the open road had ensnared yet another soul.
"Why are they pulling over?" Asterion asked, glancing at Ricky, who stretched his arms before answering.
"Because we gotta refuel. We're low on gas," Ricky replied, tapping the fuel gauge for emphasis and Asterion leaned over, noting how low it was, and gave a nod of understanding.
"We're being followed," Chester suddenly announced as Ricky, though surprised, stayed calm and checked the rearview mirrors.
"Where?" Asterion asked, abandoning any notion of subtlety as he turned to spot three cars trailing in the distance.
SIGH
"How long?" Ricky asked, unaware they were being followed, mostly because he had been too focused on beating Chester.
"The last hour. They've been keeping a distance so that they are just barely within view of us." Chester revealed, watching as Asterion pulled into the gas station alongside Jake and Marshall.
"Ha!" Jake laughed at Marshall in a mocking tone, but the lawyer wagged a finger in response.
"White boys are nice with the bat, but you've never seen a cat play the game." Marshall said with a chuckle, leaving Jake to roll his eyes.
"There is only one right way to play the game and no one plays to better than Babe-"
"That's 'cause Babe never played with anyone other than the untalented folks," Marshall said, leaning against the car with a laugh as he glanced off to the side, leaving Jake momentarily speechless.
"Slick, jake over there says that the only way to play the game of baseball is the fundamental way, the white way-"
"That's not what I said. All I meant is, if they want to play in the same league, they should play the game right," Jake clarified, his tone carrying an unintentional hint of racism he didn't even realize but Marshall, however, actually laughed at this.
"There's no right way to play the game; there's only winning," Ricky said with a yawn as he headed toward the gas station to pay for their fuel.
"See!" Marshall pointed at Jake, who simply shook his head.
"That ain't proving anything. Slick's known for riling people up and only taking sides when it's convenient for him." Jake revealed, and Ricky laughed, casting a side-eye at Jake whose smile slowly faded.
Jake instinctively glanced in his rearview mirror, spotting the three cars driving down the road before steering into the gas station.
"Marshall, get in the car," Jake said seriously, but Marshall, still chuckling, waved him off, thinking they were still just messing around.
"Oh come on Jakey, don't tell me you've-"
"Marshall," Jake said, his eyes hard and serious. Marshall flinched, glancing to the side before quickly getting into the car as Jake reached for the gun tucked behind his back.
Ricky slapped three dollars on the counter, paying for the gas and a bottle of water, then walked out to see men stepping out of the cars.
"Sorry, boys, but first come, first serve, I'm afraid!" Ricky yelled over to the men stepping out, and the leader of the group smirked in response.
He wore a dark, tailored suit, the fabric sturdy yet refined, with a crisp white shirt beneath, buttoned up to the neck.
A narrow black tie was knotted precisely at the collar, adding a touch of formality to his ensemble.
The guy's jacket was double-breasted, the lapels broad and peaked, giving him an air of authority.
The coat, charcoal gray in color, was made of a thick wool blend, perfect for the long hours he spent on the job, often outdoors or in unheated buildings.
The trousers matched, tailored to a straight leg that sat comfortably over polished black leather boots, sturdy yet elegant, built for both walking and running when the situation demanded.
On his head, he wore a bowler hat, its rounded crown and narrow brim lending a subtle nod to the era's style.
The hat sat low, casting a slight shadow over his eyes, which were sharp and ever-watchful.
But the thing that really caught their eyes was a single silver badge pinned to the lapel of his jacket, gleaming subtly in the light, signifying his authority and spelling out one name 'Pinkerton'.
"Is that so? Such a shame, right boys?" The man said, sitting on the hood of his car, adjusting his cowboy hat and twirling the toothpick between his lips.
The boys behind him merely raised their gazes but unlike their supposed ringleader, none of them wore smiles.
"F*ck~" Jake let out a small breath, recognizing exactly who these men were, and Ricky frowned, but was simply annoyed at their presence.
"So, what are Pinkertons doing in the middle of bumf*ck nowhere?" Jake asked, his tone sharp.
Ricky walked over to the truck where Marshall was currently in and stood by the trunk, keeping a close watch on the situation.
"Sightseeing?" the ringleader asked casually, his posse behind him laughing at his words.
"Cut the sh*t." Ricky shot back, crossing his arms after knowing that these guys never went anywhere unless they were hired since Lucky had crossed paths with Pinkertons before.
Lucky's involvement with the labor union wasn't anything new since he was one of the founders of the Teamsters.
However, the corporation couldn't directly oppose him, so instead, they hired Pinkertons to handle the problem from the shadows.
The Pinkertons were often hired by corporations to monitor and suppress union activities, continuing their controversial role as strikebreakers, a practice they had been involved in since the late 19th century.
Even now, Lucky was trying to mend a relationship that had soured over the years as the stressful times, combined with his recent branch openings, had led to a rise in bank robberies due to the economic downturn.
Pinkerton agents were often employed by banks and insurance companies to investigate thefts and protect assets, making their presence all the more significant.
'Lucky's gonna kill me for beating these guys to a bloody pulp.' Ricky lightly dropped his head with a small sigh, knowing how badly Lucky was working to get back on their good side.
"So you're Lucky's boy, Ricky, right? Or is it Slick?" The man grinned wider, but Ricky just scoffed, a smile tugging at his lips.
"Well, since I know your name, it's only fair you know mine. Name's Robert Pinkerton II, but you can call me Rob." Rob tipped his hat, and Ricky slicked his hair back with an exaggerated sigh.
"Alright, you've got a minute to explain why you're here before I kick your ass." Ricky rolled up his sleeves, ready to personally beat the crap out of him.
"Well, we'll be out of your hair if you hand over that feller in the car," Rob said, pointing at Marshall, who flinched, even through the reflection in the rearview mirror.
"My leading council-"
"He's got some unpaid parking tickets, and the city wants him back," Rob said with a grin, and his boys behind him laughed, slowly drawing their pistols.
"Slick, you can't kill them-" Jake suddenly popped up from the side, only to be pushed away by Ricky.
"I know, Lucky already told me." Ricky waved him off while walking over to Rob who stood up, thinking he was all talk.
"Listen Ricky is it-" Rob drew an arrogant smile, puffing out his chest to Ricky only for his chin to suddenly turn to the side.
"BAM
Ricky's fist slammed into Rob's jaw, catching him off guard as his eyes widened in shock, unable to see it coming.
Ricky's knuckles cracked through Rob's jaw, the sound of splintering bone echoing as Rob's nerve endings screamed in agony.
BANG
One of the Pinkertons, nervous and shaking as he held his pistol at Ricky, accidentally fired. Ricky laughed maniacally as the bullet collided with his forcefield, bouncing off and clattering to the ground.
Crack
"You did not just pull that trigger." Ricky laughed, cracking his knuckles as the dozen Pinkertons suddenly charged at him.
"Clench your teeth boys, this is gonna hurt a bit." Ricky's grin widened, raising his eyes to all of them with an arrogant smirk which infuriated them to their core.
The first Pinkerton lunged, but Ricky sidestepped with ease, his fist connecting with the man's jaw in a sickening crunch as the agent crumpled to the ground, out cold before he even hit the dirt.
None of these ordinary hired guns, with no discernible traits beyond the weapons they wielded and the bullets they fired, stood out in any way.
For someone who had faced Dracula and far stronger minions, these guys were exactly like the pink balloon he'd swiped from a kid just a few days ago.
Laughable and easy.
Without missing a beat, Ricky spun on his heel, catching another agent by the wrist mid-punch.
"AHHHHHHH!" The man let out a sharp, piercing screech, his voice thick with pain as he watched the scene unfold before his eyes.
Ricky twisted the man's wrist sharply, the bone snapping like a twig under his grip, forcing another agonized howl from the Pinkerton's lips.
Ricky shoved him aside, his foot lashing out to meet the chest of another attacker, sending him sprawling backward into two of his comrades.
With an estimated strength of 53, placing him in the lower realm of superhuman abilities, he had long surpassed the natural human limit.
At this moment, he possessed the power to exert a force capable of lifting up to 1.6 tons.
Although this was comparatively weak in the supernatural world, and outright feeble when considered on its own, to the regular humans around him, the dread began to seep into their eyes as they gazed at Ricky.
"Come on, let me see that Pinkerton force!" Ricky taunted, his voice dripping with mockery as the Pinkertons grunts looked at one another.
"AHHHHHHHH!" They all roared out battle cries, rushing fiercely at Ricky with the first one to make it to him holding a baton, swinging across his body only for Ricky to dodge beneath the motion.
Ricky came up fast, driving his elbow into the gut of the nearest man, who doubled over with a gasp only to have his face grabbed and pulled back down.
Ricky followed up with a knee to the face, feeling the satisfying crunch of cartilage of this grunts nose under the force of the blow.
The remaining Pinkertons hesitated, but their fear only fueled Ricky's adrenaline, his eyes glimmering black as he darted forward, grabbing one by the collar and slamming his head against a nearby wall, leaving a smear of blood in his wake.
Another agent rushed in, but Ricky was faster, grabbing his arm and flipping him over with brutal efficiency as the man's back hit the ground with a thud, the wind knocked from his lungs.
Two Pinkertons came at him from either side, trying to overwhelm him with numbers.
Ricky ducked under their wild swings, slamming his fists into their kidneys, causing them to drop to their knees in agony as he pivoted, catching one by the neck and choking him out in seconds, his strength undeniable.
The last few agents exchanged worried glances, but Ricky was already on them.
He threw a devastating punch that landed square on a jaw, sending the man spinning to the ground.
The final two tried to flee, but Ricky was too lost in the moment to let them escape his grasp as he grabbed the closest one by the back of his coat, yanking him down and slamming a fist into his temple.
The last Pinkerton managed to finally clear a distance, but Ricky grabbed a discarded baton and hurled it with precision, striking the man in the back of the head and dropping him instantly.
Ricky stood amidst the carnage, his knuckles bloody but his smile unscathed as he looked down at the dozen Pinkertons now lying broken and defeated around him, their uniforms smeared with dirt and blood.
"Oh, whoops." Ricky leaned down, wiping his bloodied hands on the closets passed out guy that so happened to be Rob.
Grabbing Rob, he dragged him aside before hurling him against the side of the gas station, while the attendant cowered behind the counter.
"Ugh~" Rob grunted, his voice slurred as he winced in pain, reaching up to realign his jaw with a sharp crack.
"URGH!" Rob couldn't move another inch as Ricky stomped on his shoulder, pinning him firmly against the wall.
"Why couldn't we have just talked this out, instead of me kicking your ass and putting you in this pitiful state where you're now my bitch, huh, Rob?" Ricky asked sincerely, pressing his foot deeper into Rob's shoulder and twisting it side to side, intensifying the pain.
Sigh
"But you're useful to my pops and to our future business so I'm gonna cut you some slack and I already know what you're going to say, but you're welcome." Ricky raised out his hand, stopping the nonexistent appreciation that would never come out of Rob's mouth.
"So, listen, Rob, just tell me who hired you, really hired you, and I'll let you go," Ricky said, grabbing one of Rob's fingers as the Pinkerton gritted his teeth, struggling to hold back a pained response.
"I can't f*cking do that-
CRACK
"ARRRRRGH!" Rob gritted his teeth, his eyes bulging as Ricky bent his pointer finger to the right with a sharp, cracking sound.
"Tell me Robby boy, before I make your limbs into puzzle pieces before having you assembled in a barrel then thrown at the bottom of the sea." Ricky warned, shaking his perfectly intact finger side to side.
In all honesty, Ricky could have easily mind-controlled them with a spell, but it was inevitable that they would cross paths in the corporate world.
At this point, the two were so deeply intertwined within it that Ricky believed it would be more effective for Rob Pinkerton, one of the company's heirs, to know that he could be dismantled at any moment.
But besides, things like mind-control were last resorts and Ricky wouldn't use it unless Rob was stubborn to the very end.
Huff
"Let me ask you a question-"
CRACK
"AH!" Rob tried to ask a question, only for his ring finger to be bent sharply.
"Better do it fast-"
"Why is a guy like you driving in the wrong direction?" Rob asked, noticing it was odd that Ricky wasn't heading directly toward Texas, but instead toward the rural farmlands of New York.
"Good question."
CRACK
"It's too bad I'm the one asking the questions and demanding answers, but ten points for effort," Ricky laughed, then swiftly breaking Rob's thumb to his horror.
HUFF
HUFF
HUFF
"Rob, I'm not f*cking with you. I'm really going to break every one of your fingers. I mean, look at me, I'm Ricky Luciano, not some random criminal or low-paid worker you boys round up for pennies." Ricky laughed out, turning the man's head to the side to reveal the wreckage of his men.
"And if you don't tell me soon, I'm going to have to go after your boys over there and make you watch as I rip them apart." Ricky whispered to Rob. Rob's eyes narrowed, his teeth gritted. He was a bastard, but he actually gave a damn about his men.
"One of Dewey's boys," Rob confessed, and Ricky laughed before stepping off of him.
"That's hilarious." Ricky muttered, walking back to the car as he pondered what to do with them.
"Slick, if you kill them-"
"Kill them?" Ricky raised an eyebrow, pulling out a wad of money and tossing it at Rob.
"I'm not gonna kill them. I'm gonna hire them," Ricky revealed, as Rob clutched his injured hand in disgust.
"And what makes you think I'll work for some freak?" Rob snarled as Ricky leaned back against the car.
"Because, Rob, it's good to make connections but most of all, friends. Don't you want to be my friend?" Ricky said, reaching out, deciding to give these men a chance. The Pinkertons were valuable, after all.
They were essentially legal hitmen, and Ricky would soon need this force before he could properly build one of his own to take down his competitors and all the civilians who stood against him.
"What about my boys, huh? What about them!" Rob pointed, wincing at the sudden movement, his voice full of hate as he looked at the men who, he feared, might never be able to hold their kids again.
"How am I supposed to-" Rob started to finish, but Ricky interrupted, yanking one of the guys up and channeling his psychic power into him.
The man's black eye, concussion, and busted lip slowly began to heal before Ricky dropped him back to the ground as the guy groaned out softly before his eyes flickered open.
"You see, Rob, the cool thing about freaks is that we can do so many freakish things," Ricky revealed, watching as Rob slowly closed his mouth.
As Ricky walked toward him, Rob averted his gaze, feeling a green aura slowly seep from Ricky.
His eyes were deadly, seemingly piercing into Rob in the most threatening way, yet his words were completely contradictory.
"So, how about it, want to be my friend?" Ricky laughed at his own cheesy words, leaving Rob in a bind and slowly, Rob looked up.
"A-A-Alright, but heal my boys."
10 minutes later,
"Phew~" Ricky wiped the sweat from his forehead, healing everyone, including Rob as it had been harder than actually beating them up.
Then he slung his arm around Rob, leading him over to the side as his men stood awkwardly and powerless to the side.
"So, what do you need from us?" Rob asked, staring at his perfectly healed hand before looking up at Ricky, still clearly uncomfortable with his own words.
"I want you to go around and trouble the families' businesses back in New York," Ricky said with a smile, giving Rob a pat on the chest as he watched as Rob slowly formed an ugly frown.
"We are detective-"
"Cut the sh*t, you're a legal thug, so don't try to say otherwise," Ricky pointed at Rob, who avoided his gaze, looking to the side.
"Even if we wanted to, Pinkertons wouldn't be able to go after their illegal operations-"
"Then don't, but they're legit businesses, and Rob, make them hurt," Ricky said, patting Rob's shoulder before getting into the car.
"Wait, it's not that simple-"
"You know, that seems like one of your problems." Ricky laughed, looking at the distressed Rob before he pulled out a wad of money and a list, then shoved it towards him through the car window.
"Oh and by the way, if I find out you're not being very friendly with your hired task-"
"I know, broken fingers and skulls at the bottom of the sea." Rob interrupted him, holding his forehead and holding out his healed hand with the now wad of money.
"Good man." Ricky cackled out, tapping the top of the car while signaling Asterion to continue the drive.
Ricky and his gang drove off, leaving Rob sitting there in silence for a long time, staring at their departure.
"Boss, you sure that was a good idea since I mean, the guy's a f*cking monster?" One of his guys asked from the side, rubbing the back of his neck and wondering out loud with many nodding along.
"Boys, did any of you see a single drop of sweat on that guy?" Rob genuinely asked, turning to any of them as they all looked to the side.
"I'm not going to stand here and say that I'm all that comfortable with the perimeters of this new job, but let me ask all of you this." Rob flicked his cigarette to the side, his stomach too queasy to smoke as he spread out his arms.
"Any of you, any of you at all, been beaten to a pulp by a guy who can't even be shot?" Rob asked around, looking at each one of them until they all looked away at his gaze.
"Cause I haven't and on top of that fcking sht sandwich, we're all just above the cut mercenaries." Rob laughed out, holding his forehead while almost ridiculing his past self for his stupidity.
"How were we ever supposed to scare that-hell, how the hell were we going to beat that, THAT!" Rob looked to be on the verge of a panic attack, taking a second to regain himself as the clear angst in his voice spoke more volumes than the words he uttered.
Gazing down at the list filled with names of businesses, Rob squeezed it tightly before unraveling it to read it clearly
"So change of plans boys, we got a new job against actual opponents."
2 hours later,
"Is this the place?" Ricky asked, glancing at Chester, who nodded while surveying the dilapidated farm.
"I've always suggested that Rockefeller meet me at the house first, then come down here on the thirtieth to check on the farm before I replant the suggestion." Chester informed him, relieved that he no longer had to use the genjutsu on Rockefeller anymore.
Instead of heading straight to Texas, Ricky first needed to reap the gains from the investment that had originally kept Chester behind.
This reward was three years in the making, but now that Ricky's plans were set in motion, he was finally ready to claim everything that was supposed to be his.
"And Rockefe-"
"I've shattered his mind; he's barely cognizant at this point. As I said three years ago, the genjutsu has slowly turned him into a hollow shell," Chester revealed. Ricky leaned back, showing no hint of guilt whatsoever.
It was a cutthroat world, and if anyone understood this, it was Rockefeller since after all, the man had made his wealth off the suffering of the common folk.
'If anything, you could call me a good guy.' Ricky mused to himself as he got out of the car as he held up his hand, signaling for Jake to stay out of sight so Marshall couldn't see him before Ricky then walked toward the farm, just as a car pulled up.
"What are you doing here?" Gruff words sounded not from Rockefeller, but his personal guard who had the stature of a Rhino.
Ricky glanced to the side and saw Rockefeller's hollow eyes, slightly drooling at the mouth as one of the attendants had to dab at the corners of his lips, trying to keep him presentable.
It was ironic that Rockefeller had been allowed to reach this state by his peers and his family, surrounded by those who had once supported him.
But the cruel reality was that everyone was simply waiting for the old man to finally pass on.
To his family, his loved ones, he was merely denying the inevitability of their inheritance.
Though this man had sacrificed so much for them, they had ultimately discarded him, letting him rot away on the sidelines.
'Geez, Chester really did a number on him.' Ricky thought, watching as Rhino suddenly wedged himself into his line of sight, blocking his view of Rockefeller.
As mentioned before, Chester had to fracture Rockefeller's mind just to control him with his suggestions, and to maintain that control, he had to break it entirely.
It was a grueling process, and over the course of these three years, it had left Rockefeller essentially running on Chester's suggestions, just waiting for death to claim him but even through all of that, Rhino and his guards still had a duty.
"Can't a guy pay his respects to such a prestigious man?" Ricky asked with a pretentious smile, spreading his arms wide and Rhino side-eyed the farm, then squinted, surveying the area with caution.
Rhino gestured to the side, signaling armed men who emerged from the other trailing cars. Ricky tilted his head, but he wasn't in the mood to deal with cannon fodder.
A green gleam flashed in Ricky's eyes, and then his sovereign aura exploded outward, pressing down on the minds of the men, overwhelming them with an oppressive force.
The will of a sovereign pressed down on these mere soldiers, a crushing force from Ricky's sheer presence overwhelming them.
Ricky had already unleashed his power earlier and was now simply bored with the whole situation as he decided it was time to wrap up this entire debacle and move on.
One by one, they collapsed to the ground, foaming at the mouth as their minds were completely shattered.
Huff
huff
Huff
Rhino fell to one knee, barely holding himself up with his hand as he felt the tsunami of green energy constantly flooding into him, the source of it all standing before him with a sleazy smile.
Gazing behind him, he saw that everyone was completely incapacitated as his eyes suddenly burst wide, and with a surge of determination, he pushed himself to his feet.
"AHHHHHHHHH!" Rhino roared, charging fiercely at Ricky with the intention to kill the man who threatened his employer.
Holding out his hand, Ricky created a psychic barrier, and as Rhino slammed his horn into it, instead of relenting, Ricky pushed back.
The barrier held firm, repelling the force with an unsettling ease while Ricky looked at Rhino struggling to even push it forward.
'This is nothing compared to Dracula,' Ricky thought, his smile widening to its extreme as he closed his hand.
A square barrier wrapped around Rhino, leaving him completely immobile and incarcerated.
However, Ricky didn't approach Rhino and instead, he walked directly past him, his focus now on the ground as he began inscribing runes with precise motions, all while casually grabbing a nearby gun.
"W-What are you doing-"
BANG
Ricky shot one of the hired guns with executioner precision, the bullet piercing his unconscious head and killing him instantly.
This man likely had a family, a past, a history that tied him to the world beneath his feet, but to Ricky, none of that mattered.
He was indifferent to the life he'd just taken, that rotten feeling in his stomach never even making an appearance and Ricky didn't linger on it.
Despite Ricky's occasional good deeds, his actions leading to significant changes, and the way some saw him in a favorable light, he wasn't the hero they imagined.
This man's death wasn't about justice or fate, it was a stepping stone for Ricky, a sacrifice made so he could gain something and for that single reason, this man's life had been ruthlessly snuffed out.
Without saying a word, Ricky dragged the body and tossed it into the circle, the lifeless form falling with a dull thud as the runes on the ground pulsed in response.
"Get up." Ricky's voice was cold and commanding, the words cutting through the air. A lime green light burst from his hand, wrapping around the man.
His body convulsed violently as the mana swirled and twisted, seeping into his very being.
The energy morphed him, changing his form into a grotesque, hideous state, the fabric of his being now contorted into something unrecognizable, a mere shell of what he once was.
Ding
(Uncommon Servant) Wight: A zombie with a faint glimmer of intelligence, capable of wielding weapons. Wights are stronger than regular zombies and have a chilling aura that saps the strength of those nearby.
Rhino's eyes widened in horror, his body trembling uncontrollably as he watched his former comrade, Tom, rise from the dead.
The grotesque figure stood, weapons still clutched in its hands, but its movements were stiff and unnatural.
"Check around the farm, killing all the workers on sight," Ricky commanded coldly, his voice unwavering as he turned to face the farm.
The Wight, its movements jerky and unnatural, obeyed immediately, shuffling off in search of its victims.
"So this is a modern farm, breathtaking~" Asterion chimed, his voice carefree and filled with amusement.
He stood to the side, completely unfazed by the chaos unfolding around him as his arms were spread wide as he took in the view, as though he were admiring an art piece rather than the grim scene at hand.
Sigh
"Is he always like this?" Garfield asked, his tail swaying irritably in the air, clearly annoyed by Asterion's boundless excitement.
"I know it's hard to believe, Garfield, but some people actually like to find joy in life instead of being such a cynic." Chester snapped back, causing Garfield to flinch, while Alexander boisterously laughed.
"Yes, my furry friend, there's nothing wrong with seeking excitement instead of focusing on the worst," Alexander proclaimed, popping his head out of Ricky's shirt pocket and striking a mighty pose before looking towards the mutant struggling to the side.
Sigh
"Such a mighty foe he is, such a shame," Alexander sighed, thinking Ricky was going to kill Rhino and giving his condolences.
Ricky formed a mental slide, raising the men before driving mental spikes through them, funneling their essence into his circle.
Ding
(Uncommon Servant) 11 x Wight: A zombie with a faint glimmer of intelligence, capable of wielding weapons. Wights are stronger than regular zombies and have a chilling aura that saps the strength of those nearby.
The amount of mana it took to turn them into undead servants wasn't nearly as much as it took for Chuck or Boney, but it was still more than what was required for the skeletons.
"Go check the perimeter, kill anyone on sight, then return here for further orders," Ricky waved his hand, sending his new undead minions off as he then turned back to Rhino, who was desperately trying to break free from his confines.
Walking closer, a dark presence emerged from the shadow as Shadow Broker loomed behind Ricky, his form barely visible in the dim light as Ricky bent down, his posture relaxed yet calculating.
"Hey, Rhino, let's talk shop," Ricky said with a smile, his voice smooth but laced with a dangerous edge.
Rhino's breath shook as he looked up at the boy who had become something far more formidable than he could have ever imagined.
The memory of the young man from three years ago lingered in his mind, when his employer, Rockefeller, had first started to change, and now, Ricky was a force to be reckoned with, the power in his presence undeniable.
Suddenly, Shadow Broker opened his briefcase with a smooth motion, and from it, the shadows swirled and congealed, forming a sleek black table.
Shadow Broker carefully placed a set of papers, shimmering with a distinct energy, on top of it.
The blankness of the pages only added to the ominous air, as if whatever was written within them held a weight far beyond their empty appearance.
"W-What do you want?" Rhino stammered, his voice wavering under Ricky's intense gaze. Ricky's smile only widened as he leaned forward, his tone cool and confident.
"For you to come and work for me." Ricky stated, propping his first deal with a calm authority.
Without missing a beat, Shadow Broker ripped one of the sheets of paper in half and as he did, the air around them thickened, swirling with a radiant energy that coiled around the two of them, forming a visible barrier.
The energy crackled with potential, an unseen force locking them into the moment as the tension was palpable, and it was clear that this wasn't just a business propositio, this was a forced turning point.
"What? I would-......" Rhino began to argue, his voice trailing off as an unexpected thought suddenly pierced his mind as the intrusion was sharp, alien, like a foreign whisper against the walls of his consciousness.
'Would it be such a bad idea to work for Ricky Luciano, the mutant advocate?' A suspicion, buried deep beneath his subconscious and hidden under layers of professionalism, began to sprout.
Ricky Luciano was slowly becoming a well-known figure in the mutant community, as more and more people had no choice but to acknowledge him.
His face was becoming synonymous with the term 'mutant' and whether they liked it or not, the world was beginning to take notice.
"Would you at least hear me out?" Ricky asked, his tone smooth but unwavering and behind him, Shadow Broker ripped another piece of paper, the sound of it filling the tense silence.
'It wouldn't hurt to hear him out,' Rhino had another thought manifest, his mind weighing the possibility as he looked down for a moment, then nodded slowly.
"I know you have an extensive fee for working with Rockefeller, but you and I both know he's all but dead inside." Ricky said in a knowing tone, tilting his head as he observed Rhino.
Rhino's gaze shifted to the side, his mind caught in a web of conflicting thoughts as he couldn't deny it.
Rockefeller, once a powerful and sharp businessman, had slowly become a decrepit zombie, his mind deteriorating with each passing day.
What was worse was that Rhino knew how these visits to his family home were clearly taking a toll, mental decay that Ricky could see as easily as Rhino himself.
Yet, whenever anyone tried to intervene, he was met with orders to stand down and as a soldier, he did as he was told and followed.
"I've been looking for people like me, like us, and I want you to get on board early so you can have first access to the future I'm going to build and I want you to be a part of a foundation I'm going to form." Ricky said in a confident tone, Rhino remaining silent as Shadow Broker ripped another stack of his paper.
'What kind of future is he going to build?'
"You know it too, how they treat us, mock us, and I'm going to change all of it." Ricky raised his eyes, watching Rhino saddened eyes convulse downwards.
"I'm going to make it so that no kid has to suffer just because they were born with an extra gene." Ricky revealed as his eyes formed into crescent moons, pressing into Rhino's deepest insecurities and taking advantage of them, forcing him into silence for a long time after that.
"I know Rockefeller paid you 2 mil a year, but I won't pay that much. However, you'll gain not only wealth but notoriety, instead of being tucked away in a dark corner like they probably do," Ricky said, reading him like a book as Rhino wasn't even allowed in their residence, treated like a dirty mutant in their eyes.
Until given his orders for dismissal from his post, the bodyguard stood in the weathering cold, rain, and against the hateful looks that always stormed around him.
"This is my card. Give it to anyone in the Luciano territory, and they'll make sure you get taken to me," Ricky said, slipping the card into Rhino's shirt pocket as the man stared at him for a long moment, weighing his options.
"I thought you would settle for getting the government off your back. Will you really fight for us?" Rhino asked genuinely, his voice heavy with the weight of his own struggles, knowing all too well how hard it was to grow up with two horns protruding from his face.
How he was the butt of every joke, the target of every hateful look, and the freak who always stood out in a crowd.
"I'm going to try, and that's more than others can even say. I'm going to put myself out there, and if I fail, at least I can die knowing I didn't run away when I had every opportunity to give our community a fighting chance." Ricky revealed but Rhino didn't have to know that he didn't really care, Shadow Broker ripping another piece of paper as he stood up.
"Think about it. The Rockefellers only treat you like a thing, but I'd treat you like a man." Ricky adjusted his attire, walking toward the farm, leaving Rhino with a lot to reel from.
Shadow Broker ripped one more piece of paper before closing his briefcase, hovering back to Ricky's side.
"It's in the barn, the goods," Rhino suddenly called out, standing up but not facing Ricky as he walked back to the car.
Ricky smiled, turning towards the farm as he walked into the barn to see three dead farmers with bullet holes in their bodies.
"Come on Garfield, let's explore!" Asterion grabbed Garfield and started running around the farm with glee, the cat hissing in protest, but the Minotaur didn't care about the incessant scratching.
"There's got to be some sort of secret latch, right?" Ricky muttered to himself, scanning the barn. It appeared like a regular storage space, nothing out of the ordinary; just hay, tools, and crates.
"Let's spread out," Ricky said, his voice low but commanding as Chester and Alexander nodded, moving to search the barn.
Chester began checking the loose planks and beams, his hands working quickly to pry them open, while Alexander sighed, clearly losing patience.
The gerbil leaned his paw against one of the support beams, his eyes lazily scanning the surroundings.
Click
The entire barn suddenly shifted, the wooden floorboards creaking as if they were alive. Ricky's head whipped around, his gaze locking onto Alexander, who had scurried back, clearly confused by the movement.
"Alexander, you're a genius!" Ricky exclaimed, his voice full of excitement and without missing a beat, he sprang into action, his hands expertly manipulating the support beams, testing them one by one.
With each adjustment, a faint clicking sound echoed through the barn, the beams slowly locking into place.
Click
With a final, satisfying click, the last support beam locked into place, and the barn's floor began to creak open, revealing a hidden staircase beneath.
The wooden planks slowly shifted away, exposing the dimly lit steps leading down into the unknown.
Ricky couldn't help but smile, his eyes glinting with excitement as he reached down and scooped up Alexander, who had been rubbing his nose in pride.
"Yes, praise me!" Alexander declared arrogantly, leaning down from Ricky's shoulders with a smug grin.
His posture was exaggerated, as though he were a king demanding his due recognition and Chester rolled his eyes from behind, shaking his head in disbelief.
"Mother Mary's nipples!" Ricky exclaimed, his eyes wide with astonishment as they reached a clearing, revealing an underground storage room stacked high with wealth.
"Rockefeller was only able to move 40 million out of 53 million, but it should be enough," Chester revealed, as Ricky walked forward, taking in the sight around him.
The warehouse was filled with riches, from silver and gold to carefully wrapped art pieces, and mountains of cash stacked high.
Ricky spent nearly twenty minutes surveying the area, his eyes scanning the wealth in front of him before finally sitting down in front of it all again.
In total, these were the contents of Rockefeller's warehouse:
Cash Reserves - $10 Million
U.S. Dollars: Bundles of high-denomination bills neatly stacked in crates. The notes are new, crisp, and well-preserved, amounting to $6 million.
Foreign Currencies: Another $4 million converted into British Pounds, French Francs, and Swiss Francs, offering stability and international flexibility.
Gold - $10 Million
Gold Bars: Approximately 12.5 kg each, the gold bars are stamped with the weight, purity (99.9% fine gold), and a serial number. These bars, worth $10 million, are stored in secure, lead-lined crates to avoid detection by metal detectors.
Silver Reserves - $7 Million
Silver Bars: Large, 1000 oz. silver bars, each stamped with purity and weight, totaling $5 million. These are kept in heavy-duty, reinforced wooden crates.
Silver Coins: Pre-1930 U.S. silver dollars, along with international coins like the Mexican Peso and the Spanish Peseta, valued at $2 million. They are stored in sacks, ready for easy transport or trade.
Bonds and Securities - $4 Million
Government Bonds: U.S. Treasury Bonds and a few British War Bonds totaling $2.5 million. These are kept in a locked, fireproof filing cabinet.
Corporate Bonds: High-grade bonds from established companies like General Electric and Standard Oil, worth $1.5 million. These are stored alongside the government bonds.
Jewelry and Precious Gems - $3 Million
Diamonds and Other Gems: Loose diamonds, sapphires, emeralds, and rubies, individually appraised and stored in small velvet pouches. These gems are worth $2 million and are kept in a concealed safe within the warehouse.
High-Value Jewelry: Vintage jewelry pieces, including gold necklaces, rings, and bracelets adorned with precious stones, valued at $1 million.
Art and Antiques - $8 Million
Paintings and Sculptures: A collection of valuable art pieces from well-known artists, carefully wrapped and stored in custom-made crates. These items represent about $500,000 of the total.
Antique Furniture and Rare Books: Select pieces of European antique furniture and rare first editions of classic books, worth another $500,000.
Sniff
"I-It's just so beautiful," Ricky murmured, his voice thick with emotion as he gazed at the amassed wealth as a proud smile spread across his face, as if on the verge of tears but Chester, however, rolled his eyes, unimpressed by the display.
"Come on Alexander, let's give him a moment."
2 hours later,
It took Ricky longer than expected to fill up his storage room with the haul, as he couldn't help but relish in the fruits of his labor, savoring the sight of 40 million in wealth.
During this time, he mentally commanded his newly raised wights to gather up the workers they had killed and transport their bodies to the center for conversion into undead.
What he didn't expect, however, was that Rhino was still waiting outside as the heavy footsteps approached, and Rhino finally walked up to Ricky.
"If I end up working for you, what will I be; just a tool or a guard?" Rhino's voice dripped with venom as he demanded an answer and Ricky, unfazed, shrugged casually.
"A comrade, someone I can trust with my back." Ricky replied, meeting Rhino's gaze with unwavering confidence.
Rhino was far too powerful to be reduced to a mere tool, and Ricky knew that with certainty.
The weight of the decision seemed to settle in Rhino's chest as he stood there, silent for a moment, lost in thought.
Finally, he turned away, his footsteps heavy as he made his way back to the car and moments later, the car roared to life and drove off, leaving Ricky alone with his plans.
If Rockefeller's body were to disappear, it would create a significant problem and while Ricky toyed with the idea of turning the hateful old man into an undead servant, he quickly dismissed it as he didn't want to deal with the potential complications.
It would be far simpler to eliminate any annoying disturbances entirely, clearing the path for his own ambitions without the burden of dealing with the old man's persistent presence.
"Is that really a good idea?" Chester asked, flying up to perch on Ricky's shoulder. Ricky shrugged, his gaze lingering on the bodies stacked before him.
"We'll see. But sometimes, you need to gamble to make it big," he replied, his voice calm yet tinged with the thrill of the unknown.
His attention shifted back to the fourteen lifeless farmers, their bodies lying like discarded pawns in the game Ricky was playing.
"Get up."
Ding
(Common Undead Servant) 14 x Shambler: Slow-moving, mindless zombies. They attack in hordes and rely on sheer numbers to overwhelm their victims. Easily defeated individually, but dangerous in large groups.
"Now, all of you, get into the storage space and don't touch my stuff." Ricky commanded, his tone firm as he opened the storage space.
The wights and shamblers shuffled forward, their eyes glazed and unseeing, as they entered the space.
Ricky watched them for a moment, ensuring they weren't touching any of his stuff, before closing the portal behind them.
"Alright, now who's ready for Texas?"
Author's Note: What are we thinking about the first introduction of the stands power, I've never written something like this before and I wanted to know if it flowed right? Also, I haven't really replied to commetns but I have seen them since I've been studying like f*cking crazy so I'll get to them this weekend. I have put a auxilary chap with his kids, played marvel rivals which is crazy fun, and why is everyone calling me Greg? Leave your thoughts.
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