Previously on With Great Power Quest: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=With%20Great%20Power%20Questand Rites of the Red Wizard Quest: https://archived.moe/qst/thread/5043544/#q5045606"You owe me," Grit said.It was past midnight and if it wasn't for that thumbnail of fire I kept pumping through me I'd be freezing my ass off. I don't think we were even in Chicago anymore. Isn't this Calumet? Shit if we kept going down a couple streets we'd be in Indiana. But Grit was right, I did owe him. First for getting his arm broken taking down Flesh-Smith, then backing me up against Wet-Work."Something to do with a meth lab, right?" I said."Cash," he said, "Holding it for the Triads. Got a line from a snitch. Old house down this way they use to stash the cash money before they can transfer it out. Not every cent of it, they probably got a dozen or more different places to hide it. Figured we can give 'em a headach by burning up some of their profits.""Junkies keep the cash economy going," I said.We were watching that house now, down the end of a short road with nothing but trees behind it. Quiet out tonight, at least here. Calumet was pretty far from our regular stomping grounds, probably why Grit wanted the back up.He was in his plate carrier, face hidden under the bandanna with the eyeholes cut out. Grit could control earth, it didn't make him bullet proof. So he needed the plate carrier, the shin guards. He was a strong guy though, one of the most jacked guys I'd ever met with biceps bigger than my thighs, and I'm no slouch on that department these days either. If you wanted to do what we did it helped to be fit.His attention was on that old house. No lights on didn't mean no one was there. If it was a cash storehouse of a Triad group, they'd have lookouts at least, and be ready to do whatever needed to protect their profits. But Calumet was a black city, not a lot of Asians down here. Odds were they'd paid some street gang to do it for them, one of the more reliable ones that could be trusted not to pull some bullshit. The Triads liked to work that way, with the locals. That's what Grit said. You never really saw the real Triads on the street. They kept to the backrooms of the gambling dens and massage parlors, sending out little hustlers to handle the street shit. All the money flowing back from their little enclaves to the mansion compounds of Hong Kong or Macao.Bigger in Canada than here, but truth is they were everywhere."Let's do this," Grit said, words turning to mist in the cold night air. The ground groaned and from between his feet the handle of his familiar stone hammer rose. He could swing it like it was a baseball bat, that thing.Those dark windows bothered me.Heard it off a snitch? A Triad cash house in Calumet? Something didn't sit right.>I'll go in first, scope it out>call it off, this smelled bad>fuck it, let's go>(write-in)
>>6472479Tell Grit it feels like a trap. Take a second to really focus our enhanced senses before entering. If we decide to continue consider making entry through an unexpected route like an upper window.
>>6472534+1>>6472479Thread 17>It was a struggle he lost.>He looked for Dusk, for Hotspur. For help.>Dusk fought a horde of flaming bio-ghouls like a wild cat.>Hotspur had his tongue in the Japanese tomboy's mouth.>"Fuck you dude," Grit spat, his shield a stone hammer again. No more fucking favors for Hotspur.This will always be incredibly funny for me to remember. Grit should suffer more.
>>6472479>>6472534+1, good plan.>>6472541The fact that he still did us another favor with Wet Work makes him a real bro. He deserves no suffering.
>>6472554>>6472541>>6472534locking that in
"A snitch was it?" I said, "You trust the snitch?""He's a snitch, course I don't trust him," Grit said, "But I done some homework and seen who pulls up at this location. It checked out.""Still could be a trap," I said, "Triads have a bounty on your head, don't they?""Could be," Grit said, "Part of why I wanted back up on it.""Lemme just try something first," I said, "Wait here."My ability to emhance my senses wasn't unlimited. I did need to get a little closer to the house. Grit slunk back into the shadows while I took the quiet path, up over rooftops keeping my weight light, moving from one to the other until I was a house down from the end of the street. There I closed my eyes, drew in a deep breath, and drew on my fire.The sounds around my roared into frequency. The distant flap of a bat's wings, the bounce of a car as it hit a pothole, the groan of a pipe as it brought up water. People walking a street over, talking, their voices audible but words indistinct. The slow grind of a van pulling up down the block. I focused it down to what I needed, the house Grit said was storing Triad cash.It was dark but it was past midnight. It took a second before I heard it. A chair pulling out from a table, downstairs. The clunk of a fridge door opening. Hiss of a soda bottle cap being opened."Fuck this," someone muttered. Poured out the fizz of the soda. Took a long drink. "No kinda fucking job." The voice sounded Black. He sighed. Hard the hum of a call going out. "I know its late," he said, the voice on the other end not quite clear. "Yeah, one more week than I swap out for Jaiden. Pays okay. I know. Yeah, I know. I'm bored. Motherfuckers don't even let me keep an xbox. This ain't bein' a gangster. This is some housesitter bullshit. I'm not whining. Okay. Okay. Fuck, okay! Yeah, got an AK for trouble and some bangers couple houses down will come running. I shouldn't even be callin' you, they're that strict. For real, for real. Yeah, Brody put it together. Maybe he can sit his ass on a midnight shift. Yeah. So, what you wearing?"The talk turned in that direction from there, a conversation involving his hand on his dick. I stopped listening.
I looked back to Grit hiding in the shadows at the far end of the street. A house with some strapped up thugs for security probably also meant surveillance. Nothing Grit wouldn't have had an idea about, he wasn't stupid. Intel was checking out. Still, my skin prickled with a bad feeling. Maybe it was being so far out from Chicago, got my nerves up. Maybe it was something else.I put my hearing out for those other houses, trying to scope out the bangers. Most the houses were empty, abandoned. Until I heard a sneeze."Like a cartoon mouse," someone said."Fuck you nigga," the sneezer replied, "Weather's turnin', catchin' a cold.""Woke me the fuck up is what you doin'. Anything going on?""Nah, nothin'. Go back to sleep.""Aight, wake me up for the shift change."There it was, two houses down. Could have been a white picket fence family home if it wasn't boarded up, the lawn more weeds than grass. Just like the other lots in this forgotten corner of Calumet City. Good a place as any for a stash house.I skirted the roofs back to Grit, dropped down beside him."One guy in the house," I said, "At least two in that one there, ready to pop off if they see any trouble."Grit nodded, gripping the handle of his hammer. "Aight," he said, "You cool?""If you're cool, I'm cool.""I'm cool," he said, "Let's do this.">we knew the lay out, no need to be subtle, just charge on in and make some chaos>better to be careful anyway, take out the security team first then hit the house>maybe we should back off, this bad feeling just won't go away
>>6472562>better to be careful anyway, take out the security team first then hit the house
>>6472562>we knew the lay out, no need to be subtle, just charge on in and make some chaosWhat could possibly go wrong?
>>6472623>>6472569locking that in
"We take out the watch house first," I said, "Then roll on to the stash house. Fast and quiet.""Fine by me," Grit said, "You on point for that."I nodded. I was faster than Grit. If we bungled this, someone was going to make a phone call and this street would be swarming with hired muscle. Had to be careful.A lot could go wrong.->roll 3 x 1d100+15 dc 60
Rolled 34 + 15 (1d100 + 15)>>6472761
Rolled 88 + 15 (1d100 + 15)>>6472761this nat 1 caused the bad feeling Hotspur had
I don't mind people throwing out another roll if it keeps things moving
Rolled 94 + 15 (1d100 + 15)>>6472797
nice. that's a pass
Go time.I left Grit behind, skirting up to the fence of the watch house. I killed the cold around me with a burning rush of fire, heart thumping. Adrenaline kept my concentration tight as I vaulted over the fence, landing on the dry weed covered lawn without even the crunch of a stalk of grass. Didn't matter how many times I did this, the adrenaline always spiked, mind for a second considering what could go wrong.Fire killed those dark thoughts, sharpened my mind. Everything outside the moment ceased to exist.Up against the side of the house, I felt along the boarded up window. A loose panel, fake for appearance but easy to remove for the gun fighters inside. A careful hand, fingers working their way underneath it, and I lifted it aside, setting it down.A living room sparse as a crack den, just a couch set up. Someone had left a 9 on the cushion.There was a light on in the kitchen. The crunch of someone eating. The guy on watch. I crossed the dark floor of the empty frunchroom, coming up to the open door to the kitchen. He stood over the sink, door of the fridge open, eating cinnamon toast crunch by the handful straight from the box before taking a swig from a pint of milk. Keeping his attention out the kitchen window looking across the dark street. Fuck knew how he was meant to see anything, but I didn't know their system.Fact was he didn't see me ghost up behind him in the light of the kitchen, crossing the cracked linoleum.Now here I was lucky for the BJJ classes I'd been taking with Ayesha. I'd learned a quick and easy choke hold. One arm across the neck, the other pinning it with a hand cupping the back of the head. From there it was just a gentle squeeze. was it that easy though? When I grabbed him he gave a shocked jerk, the box of cereal knocked to the ground. We stumbled back but I was too strong for him to shake off, and he couldn't get out more than a frightened wheeze before I was craddling him to the ground.Chokeholds were one of those things you had to be careful about. Be off by just half an nch and you went from knocking them out by cutting the blood flow to their brain, to straight up choking them to death, crushing their throat. I got it right the first time. He wouldn't be out long.I went and let Grit in through the back. He threw me a couple zip ties and I had the first banger tied up. Scotch tape had to do for a gag, a couple loops over his mouth but leaving his nostrils to breathe.Upstairs we found the second guy still in bed, a military style cot with surplus blankets. Grit woke him up with a hand over his mouth and the word 'boo!', then put him back to sleep with a hard headbutt. He zipped the guy up same as the one in the kitchen.
They'd had a couple shotguns and automatics, kind of firepower could hold off the police or any other strapped up crew looking for trouble, and little two way radios to call out to anyone waiting to charge in if things got really wild. Didn't do them any good tonight.We left the way we came, heading down for the stash house, ghosting across backyards. We got to the fence and I cupped my hands to boost Grit over. he grabbed the top of the fence and swung himself over. I leapt after, grabbed the edge of the fence and landed in a crouch next to him.That guy inside was still talking to his girl."Oh yeah, I like that," he said, hand stuffed down the front of his pants, seated in the couch facing the window. It was dark out enough he couldn't see shit through the glass. Kinda wish he could because I didn't appreciate the show.We moved to the back door. Grit on one side, me on the other. Grit raised his hammer, nodding to me. I nodded back.One swing took the door off its hinges and I dashed in."Oh shit!" the guy said, dropping his phone in one hand, dick in the other, scrambling for a gun he'd left in another room. Two steps closed the distance and I hit him hard in the gut, doubling him over with a wheeze. Then I took a leaf out of Grit's book, grabbed his head and drove my forehead hard into his, knocking him out cold. "Fuck!" I regretted it immediately as the pain flashed through to the back of my head. Coach always said head butts were both dirty and stupid, if you did them wrong you could just knock yourself out.But the thug dropped and I stayed standing, even if it was while rubbing my head. I stamped down on his phone, crushing it with a hard snap. Grit tied the thug up.Other than the throb in my forehead it had all gone smooth as could be hoped."So what now?" I asked."Now we torch the bitch," Grit said, fishing a lighter out of his pockets, one of those heavy old army lighters with the nickel casings."What?" I said. Arson hadn't been on my bingo card for the night."Every damn dollar hidden in this place is going up in flames," he said, "We do it quick, before an alert can go up.">No way man, I'm not cool with that>It's your show, Grit, do what you do>(write-in)
>>6472828>>(write-in)End the guys call and check his phone for pictures of where the money is stashed
>>6472833Eric stomped his phone
>>6472834Whose got the phone repair parapower
>>6472834Wait I've got it!>Check his pockets for a second phoneSometimes its the simple solutions you see
>>6472828>No way man, I'm not cool with thatAren't you from here? We're not doing a Chicago fire 2.0. Shit, some of my friends are firemen..The yard is overgrown and dry. It'll spread. We find the money fast and do a targeted burn. Make a burn enclosure with your powers. Smokey the bear approved.
>>6472828>No way man, I'm not cool with thatPossible spread is real bad. Use Space Prince vision.
>>6472844I'll support that. Its probably very dirty money. Blood money even. Should become very apparent where its hidden.
