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Dākuman

Dākuman


D-rank
Spoiler:

Mission time. If he was to make it out of this shit hole of a village, and put this place behind him, then he needed cash and weapons. To do that, he needed a hustle, something that would bring in plenty of cash. He could always go back to stealing from people and picking pockets for ryo, but that was what landed him in prison the last time. Not that he cared – the place wasn't bad. Three meals a day and cot to sleep on. But the lack of 'freedom' was irritating. No, he did not want to go back to that place.

He would have to do this the legit way – for now. No stealing and killing unless he was one hundred percent sure he could get away. But for now, he would have to put in some work – he still knew remembered some skills from his time in the Sunagakure no Sato Ninja Academy. Perhaps he could put them to use, and probably earn money that way? Given his status as a criminal, he was dishonorably discharged from the Village Shinobi Corps, but there nothing saying that he could not register as wandering ronin and make some money for himself. Besides, all of his records that contained his information under his family name – a name that died with his grand parents. His mother never married, and she'd never named him. Hell, for the first few years of his life, he thought his name was 'Boy'. It wasn't until those prisoners took to calling him Dākuman – Dark Man – because of his personality that he ever had a name of his own. He did not mind the name, and even stylized it into being Dākuman X, on account of not having a proper last name either. Something about being called Dark Man X seemed just right....

He would have to find something, anything to bring in some cash. This shit hole inn room in the slums of Sunagakure was just not cutting it. He wanted out of this place, out of this village and to leave the bad memories of it behind. But to do that, he needed cash, and so, it was off to the mission request board to register until a new name.

~An Hour Later~

It was easy enough to register under his 'new' name – the receptionist merely assumed that he was some strong headed kid looking to prove himself and be mysterious at the same time. Little did she know, but  Dakuman had zero time for this kind of shit – other kids his age might have been up for parading around like peacocks and trying to impress the kunoichi with their shit tier skills, but Dakuman had better things to do with his time. Impressing some random THOT was not on the list of shit he had to do on a daily basis. Some random THOT was not going to get him what he wanted right then – not unless he took up pimping. Being a pimp was something else he had no patience for – and the thought of being one was a bit sickening.

Armed with his new registration card and R.I.P, [Ronin Identification Passport], Dakuman made his way over to the mission postings and began to browse through them, contemplating on what to take. There were several missions that looked interesting, mainly to do with dealing with roaming gangs and bandits. He wanted to take them, but had no weapons in order to fight with. While he had no problem getting down and dirty with his hands, it was almost guaranteed suicide to run up into a bandit hideout without something sharp and pointy to stick into people.

Finally, he settled on something that seemed simple enough; being a bouncer for some kind of party that was happening later in the evening. The party was apparently happening in one of the more upscale districts of the village, a part that Dakuman knew very well. He'd been through that section many times, breaking into homes an businesses to find something to make a profit. Perhaps he would make more of a profit tonight beyond just what he would be paid for being a bouncer at the party? Time would tell. For the moment, he had to get ready for this party. While it did not start for several hours, it would be best to get over there and check out the situation before hand. There was really no use in going into this mission blind.

759 wc

Dākuman

Dākuman


D-rank
An hour in, and nothing was happening. It would seem that these rich snobs did not know how to throw a party – not that Dakuman knew himself. Thai light. Airy music was annoying him mostly – where the frick did they find this band? In the middle of the badlands? Dakuman himself preferred something with a bit of a 'heavier' feel – bass and drums, mostly.  But the people paying him obviously loved this shit, so he would keep quiet about it for now.

He had been instructed to remain out of sight along with the rest of the security personnel, but to keep an eye on everyone within the room, and to get rid of patrons that seemed like they would be problematic. Seemed simple enough, until he came to realize exactly how large this place was. It was large enough to fit seven of Dakuman's inn rooms in it, with plenty of room to spare. While the rest of the security personnel attempted to stand in the corners of the room, Dakuman took a slightly different approach; a nifty use of the Supernatural Walking Practice and a moment of time would have the male watching the party from the ceiling. It kept him out of the way, and out of sight, as per request. None of the party goers ever thought to look up, so he was in the perfect vantage point. Let the rest of the shit-tiers struggle, he'd get this done his own way.

Grey eyes scanned across dance floor as he watched the people mill about. They were not even dancing, just socializing; even at this distance, he could hear them warble and babble on about how so and so looked in the red dress, about how 'she should know better than to step out the house looking like that'. It was irritating, sitting here having to protect these people while they partied and blew more money that he'd ever seen in his life. If he'd been a different person, he would have locked the doors on this place and robbed everyone here blind without a second thought. But as it was, he was trying to do this legitimately, but fucking hell, the temptation was there.  The only real thing stopping him was that he had to report back to the mission station the next morning to pick up his pay to verify that he'd completed the mission. If he did not report back in, he would have a warrant out for him, along with quite possibly a bounty as well. At this point, he did not need to have anything like that following him around. Last thing he needed was some asshole looking to cash in on a price on his head.

For a moment, the male became lost in his thoughts, eyes glazing over. That is, until a woman's yelling broke through his daydream (evening dream? Night dream?) and brought him back to reality. Those gray eyes focused once more, catching sight of some chick yelling at some guy, telling him to get lost. Judging by the looks of the situation, the woman was obviously shit faced drunk, swaying in place as she stared at the man in front of her, screeching at him like a goddamn harpy. What she was screaming on this about Dakuman could not care less, but as it was she was disturbing the party.

Very well. It was time to get rid of her before she caused anymore of a disturbance. With a burst of speed and movement, Dakuman leapt from the ceiling to the floor, grabbing the woman before body flickering out of the party. He would come to a stop at the edge of the property by the main road, unceremoniously dropping her into the dirt. Almost immediately, the woman doubled over and vomited, with Dakuman turning and body flickering away in disgust.

“Learn how to act in public, bitch.”
 

To the party he would return, posting up on the ceiling once more, to down at the proceedings. It would seem that the party continued on as if nothing happened. Typical rich snobs.

It seems that if it was not happening to them, then they could not be bothered to care.

Such as the problem with people like this. They had so much that they either were blind to those who did not have, or actively looked down upon those who did not have. It was the kind of shit that pissed him off.

But it was cool. Every dog had his day, and theirs would come soon enough. For now, Daukuman continued to watch the party, keeping an eye out for any more potential problems. Time ticked by slowly, the hours crawling by like a slug dipped in molasses. Eventually, the party began to die down, and the party goers began to trickle out., heading home to their various palaces and such. There were a few pockets of people that seemed to hell bent on remaining behind to talk to each other. While it wasn't Dakuman's place to kick them out, he was really beginning to with they would just get the frick out. They did not have to go home, but they had to get the hell up out of here.

Soon enough, the last stragglers left as well, and Dakuman reported to the host that the guests were gone. The owner thanked him and handed Dakuman an envelop, saying that it was a tip for how quickly he handled the situation with the female earlier. Raising an eyebrow, Dakuman took it and thanked the host, letting him know that it was no problem.

When the male arrived home, he opened the package to find two grand in ryo.

Holy shit. The guy must have been hella impressed.

-Exit-

966 | 1725 Total WC

Mission WC required 600/1725 = 1125

750/1125 = 375
SPD E-0 to D-0

PER E0 to E-1 75/375 = 300

REA E0 to E-1 75/300 = 225

END E0 to E-1 75/225 = 150

STR E0 to E-1 75/150 = 75

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