BCTheEntity — Roleplayer Guild

The Red Claw

Criminals come in many forms in a city as grimy as Ankora. Low-level thugs are often beaten down by the police and vigilantes before they can become a threat, and even the self-styled mob bosses are frequently just making themselves more of a target, a higher-profile reward for whichever government agent is sent to bring them in. But the truly invisible criminals, the ones who standard vigilantes rarely learn of and who the police can't or won't touch with a ten foot pole, are the ones at the top, the CEOs and their cronies, and occasionally those as far down as middle management. Rarely are their crimes so base as murder, rape, or petty theft; more often, they deal in millions both legitimate and laundered, embezzling funds for their already-excessive lifestyles whilst the world beneath them goes to rot, or if they must perform these lesser crimes, they do so on a greater, more excessive scale.

It is rare that the fat cats are ever put to trial in any area of the world. In Ankora, however, there are those rare few with a mind to off them, and so to receive twofold benefit - to end their crimes, and remove from the competition a rival in the field of business.

The Red Claw has gathered evidence against one Jonathan Cape, CEO of the Blendlite Corporation's local branch. Disgustingly rich, disgustingly lacking in morals, and generally disgusting to look at, John has left a trail of breadcrumbs indicating that he has stolen from his company over five million dollars in the last year alone, and has likely taken far more than that over time. Somewhat less important is that the company he keeps for his direct inferiors and successors are incompetent yes men who, other than those schemes Jonathan himself has headed, have in total lost Blendlite Corporation twenty seven point nine million dollars. Without Jonathan to cull their activities, they will surely drive their branch into the ground and themselves out of a job, leaving Ankora free of their presence. The Red Claw frees the world from the influence of a corrupt man; meanwhile, Alexis Righte acquires more business. The world keeps on spinning.

Jonathan Cape lives in a mansion in one of Ankora's richer districts, colloquially called "White Avenue" both for its low diversity of skin tone and its relative lack of blue-collar crime. This purity is, of course a facade; the rich commit crimes of a different scope to the poor, but they are crimes nonetheless. And besides, there's always some people from the Blocks who get it in their heads that, for example, one of those rich ladies in the district of rich people is probably very tight. Or that a CEO will be forced to pay excessive amounts of child support if he gets his rapist pregnant. White Avenue of course has its alleyways, the same as any other street - less messy avenues than their low-class cousins, but alleys nonetheless, which the Red Claw uses to remain fairly hidden on his path through to Jonathan's mansion.

Sound emanates from one of them, something akin to a violent struggle mixed with various movements of cloth on cloth and rather unseemly slapping sounds. The Red Claw, passing by, is drawn to this ruckus, and comes across a scene that most in the area would turn and run from: a white-skinned, dark-haired man in a blue suit, a couple of long holes leaking red through it, with his lower body exposed and mounted by a black woman with long curly hair, dressed in clothing which may or may not be high-quality even as far as middle-class clothing goes, but which remains extraordinarily tacky in a district of this sort, armed with a cruel grin and crueler blade. Blood drips from its edge, and it currently presses hard against his throat, cutting into his neck even as it limits the strength of his breaths, preventing him from doing much other than attempting to buck her off. An obviously counter-productive strategy.

Rape of an innocent. Assault and battery with a sharp weapon. Likely intentional attempts to game the legal system. Guilty as charged.

With no fanfare, the Red Claw brings his right arm up, aims at the woman's head, and lowers a finger momentarily. Two bullets are fired, and she dies in a shower of blood, brain, and bone fragments, slumping off the man's body even as he is finally freed to scream in terror and shock. Beyond replacing his lost clothing, he seems incapable of deciding what to do, whether or not he should stare at the still-warm corpse or his terrifying savior. He is shaking violently, and though unlikely to bleed out, could probably still do with the medical attention.

"You ought to call an ambulance for yourself."

The modulator in the Red Claw's helmet masks his voice, making it sound harsh and metallic, and giving it a lot of presence in a street otherwise free of noise beyond slowly-diminishing yells. His job in this regard done, the Red Claw turns and leaves the rich man to whatever fate befits him. A more important task remains to be completed.

Time passes. The Red Claw reaches the estate of Jonathan Cape. It is fenced off, the fence made of steel and topped with razor wire. No matter. A hand twitches, three blades emerge from the front of one gauntlet. Five seconds later, there is a hole in the fence, and the Red Claw is on the estate, marching toward the seemingly-silent house. Two minutes after that, he has reached the front door. It is torn down, and the mansion invaded.

Not long after that, the first guards arrive, aiming their weapons toward the Red Claw - FN P90s, firing high velocity FN 5.7×28mm rounds, which are highly effective against human flesh and most forms of personal armour, but woefully useless against tank-grade titanium plates. Even so, and as a matter of practice, the Red Claw observes where they are aimed, and moves out of their firing paths just as projectiles begin to fly, at the same moment raising his arms and lowering a finger on both hands. He has already spotted the weak point at each guard's neck, and in just under ten seconds, the hallway is clear of living beings. The Red Claw has already moved on.

The pattern repeats a few times. Guards show up with ineffective weapons, the Red Claw kills them with his claws and his bullets, the Red Claw continues to search. At some point, he stops outside a front-facing window, and looks down at the front drive. He has performed jobs such as this a few times before, but every time, the target has a mind to escape, yet not enough of a mind to escape through a path other than the front door. "He wouldn't even consider going back the way he came," they must think, "not when it'd be silly to do so!"

The fat executive called Jonathan Cape is spied running- lumbering, rather- toward his car, surrounded by a unit of several guards. With no guards presently in sight in the corridor the Red Claw in is, he aims out at the group, then begins spraying the area down with projectiles. Cape falls almost immediately; several guards also perish in the ensuing firefight, and the intended escape vehicle, a large SUV of some sort, has three of its tires popped and the metal frame of its body shredded. At some point, the Red Claw stops firing, vaults out of the completely shattered window, then lingers on the frame for a moment before dropping a story to the ground, minimising impact force to his body with a roll, though the armour plating and strength enhancing undersuit certainly helps mitigate any potential harm.

The Red Claw charges over to the escape group. His ammunition is somewhat low for the time of night by now, and so he reserves it; instead, the three remaining guards are subjected to the sight of him releasing all four blades on both arms as he approaches, shrugging off their small arms fire seemingly effortlessly. He moves into melee range, and subjects them to rather gruesome deaths; with all said and done, one has been decapitated, another has had his head and shoulder sliced into strips, and the last has been bisected at the waist, then impaled through the heart and lungs.

Aiding a known criminal. Assaulting a vigilante with a just cause. Guilty as charged.

Finally, the only sounds left are the Red Claw's own breaths through the modulator, and those of one other person. Jonathan Cape himself, a severely overweight bald man dressed in a blood-soaked white suit and a dark shirt and tie, sweating from his exertions and pale with fear. He is still alive, if only just, and currently attempting to crawl away from his doom. The Red Claw strides over to his form, grabs him by the neck, and raises him over his head.

"Guuh... puh-please! Don't do this! I-I can give you anything! F-f-ff-fame, wealth, power-"

"Embezzling of company funds, five million dollars plus. Sending armed guards to prevent the course of justice. Assaulting a vigilante with a just cause."

"What?! Embezzli- UUUGH... I-I don't- where's the p-p-proof of th-that?"

"One does not need to show a dog its own leavings. Guilty as charged."

Three blades impale the fat man's gut, and are dragged upward through his body, disemboweling him to the lungs. His body is discarded as its last breaths are emitted, and the Red Claw retracts his weapons and walks away from the scene, happy with the knowledge that justice has been done. Jonathan Cape shall embezzle no more.

Dirk Messir

Apparently, walking on to a ship and pulling its captain aboard was all that was needed to be welcomed aboard. Dirk wondered if this would turn out to be a good idea at the end of the day... looking at the other ships in port, it seemed like the one he stood upon was somewhat damaged by comparison. Was there a better word for that? He wasn't sure; he ought to look that up at some point. He of course knew he had a very valuable method of fixing that state of affairs... but how willing was he to show off his Devil Fruit? For the time being, he figured he should probably wait to gauge his new allies' attitude towards them, or at least until they were out at sea and nobody else was in sight. They might decide to steal and eat it themselves, after all. Or sell it and keep the money to themselves. And that wouldn't do.

It stood to reason, however, that for right now, this boat was his only choice. Even if any other pirate crews were around, they probably wouldn't let a random person aboard for no reason (frankly, he wasn't certain why he'd been allowed into this crew). And evidently, he had to stay away from the World Government and the Marines for the time being. The very last thing he wanted was to get himself captured all over again, and word of his actions prior to his escape surely wouldn't stay under wraps for long. So, this crew it was, complete with red-hooded captain. He wondered if they had a fancy name to go by.

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