K-Ton felt the effects of neon kicking in as Dante began giving his speech. It felt good. As the others hyped themselves around him, some also popped neon, some checked weapons. K-Ton half paid attention to the small murmurs happening around him, half paid attention to the glock 18 he cradled in his hands. It looked almost identical to the glock 17 that Dante and several others carried in their hands, and was for all intents and purposes very much similar. It shot the same 9mm cartridge, it operated almost the same, hell it even fit the same magazines. The main difference between the two was that with a flip of a switch, K-Ton could empty his extended 33 round magazine in a little less than 2 seconds. The '18 was his father's preferred weapon from his time in the Triads, and even though his dad was out of the game, he still kept his hands on a small arsenal in the apartment, just in case some grudge holding Triads decided to pay him a courtesy call. The old man had offered him a second one to pair up with the first- which as awesome as that would be, K-Ton needed his free hand to either control the monster recoil on this weapon, or to manipulate his powers. Instead, he opted for grabbing a couple 33 round extended magazines for the glock, loaded up with some hollowpoints to add injury to injury. 

To be honest, the hollowpoints were as practical as they were deadly- they couldn't penetrate through targets so he didn't have to worry about making sure there were any H10 crew behind his targets, as was likely in the hectic close quarters they'd get into once they got into the AutoMatch, hollowpoints also expanded, or 'mushroomed' within the target's body causing far more damage to the baddie and putting them on the ground a lot faster. Sure, it wouldn't go through a vest as easily, but the chances of gangers having vests were low, and he had other methods of dealing with armor.

"-apeshit-"

Was all K-Ton heard, as almost instantly, the interior of the van-turned-gang transport. Dante was rousing the boys as he always did, and K-Ton was only happy to oblige. While he didn't scream and whoop like the others did, he offered the interior of the van a smart smirk as he began slamming his fist against the side of the van, the neon in his veins causing the sound to echo throughout the streets of the slums like it was some ghettofied war-drum. War was coming, and he was going to make sure everyone fucking knew about it. With his other hand, he grabbed at a ghetto blaster under his seat, a shitty, banged up boombox with fresh batteries. Sitting on top of the boombox was a half empty box of earplugs that K-Ton had handed out to everyone prior to leaving. They wouldn't need them for long, but Dante said the whole name of the game was shock and awe, so the two of them had cooked up something just for that.

"Show these assholes some apeshit motherfuckers, boys!!" bellowed their de-facto leader as the doors slammed open and people poured out of the van. 

Following the others K-Ton casually stepped out of the van, boombox in one hand, glock in the other. Casually walking out a few steps and dropping the jambox on the ground, finding himself a cone of space in front of him relatively empty of H10 Crew, cracked his knuckles and switched the box on with a foot. Immediately, some loud, trashy, bassy, hip-hop began spewing out of the box's round speakers. The music began picking up in speed and volume until the mix hit its first bass drop, at which K-Ton slammed his foot on the ground. Instantly, soundwaves rippled across the lot- windows shattered, and the ground felt slight tremors, and the few individuals unfortunate enough not to protect their ears in time found their eardrums rattled in similar manner to the windows in the warehouse. 

The high was fucking great. K-Ton had never used his powers like that before and it felt fucking amazing. Pulling his second pill out of his pocket, he quickly popped it before he came down the high of his first. Switching his glock to fully automatic and pulling its slide back, he rolled his shoulder as the second hit began kicking in. He kicked aside the burned out speaker-box and began his the charge of his own, following the others through the whole in the wall, he found himself in the chaos of a gang shootout. H10 and Beaters formed two rough 'lines' of battle, as the H10 Crew took what cover they could shooting or using their powers against a defensive line of Beaters who did the same. 

K-Ton threw himself into cover against a large crate next to where Ramsey- one of their drivers was taking cover. He shot the driver nothing more than a breathless nod, neither of them had the convenience of making small talk at the moment. Despite the chaos of the gunfight, K-ton could hear the sound of someone sprinting nearby, likely trying to flank him and Ramsey's position. K-Ton swung his pistol around as the guy rounded the corner, only managing to dive out of the way as K-Ton sent a burst of bullets at him. Rounding the corner himself, K-Ton rapidly scanned for the guy, only to sense a wave of heat and dive out of the way as a fireball flew at where he once stood- singing the sleeve of his jacket. Rapidly pulling off his jacket with one hand, he poked his head out of his cover, finding himself facing down a Beater armed with both a pistol and a fireball. K-Ton ducked as the pistol flashed towards him. 

"Get out here you fucking chink!" growled the Beater, as another fireball exploded at K-Ton's feet, sending sparks and embers flying at his legs. 

"Yeah fucking right," K-Ton growled to himself, as if anyone would exit their cover simply because someone trying to kill them asked. Instead, K-Ton raised his free hand and felt the general direction of the Beater. He snapped his fingers, and while few heard it over the sound of gunfire, the Beater in question felt as though a flashbang had just went off inside his ear and collapsed to the ground in pain, clutching at his ears as they bled.

K-Ton stepped out of his cover, slowly approaching his now disabled opponent, scanning the area around him to ensure that their location was relatively out of the line of fire from other Beaters. The problem with making a flanking maneuver, is if you failed you were generally cut off without support from your allies. Kicking aside the Beater's pistol with a casual kick, K-Ton stepped down on the ganger's hand preventing him from throwing fireballs. He didn't bother saying anything to the Beater- the guy wouldn't be able to hear K-Ton anyway. Instead, he offered the Beater an evil grin before, he stuck his pistol in the Beater's leg and shot out his knee-cap, eliciting a wail of pain. Never breaking eye contact with the beater, K-Ton stuck his pistol into the other leg and blew out that knee-cap, causing the beater to scream a second time. This time, before the ganger could stop screaming, K-Ton slipped the barrel of his pistol into the open gap of the gangster's mouth. 

The beater looked at K-Ton with what he could only imagine was a pleading look. K-Ton offered him a lazy shrug and grin before he blew the ganger's face off. Wiping the barrel of his pistol off against the corpse, K-Ton returned to where Ramsay and his crate was, watching the flank for a moment while he recollected his bearings.