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Drip Work

Once upon a millennium ago, there was a Gunsmith from Hell, and he made hellish guns with abilities that were beyond human: Hellfire Arms. Of course, using these guns required a certain price: the human soul But a "mishap" in Hell has caused many of the Arms to drop in the east coast city of Morissey, where not everyone is exactly a saint In this fantastical representation of 1940's America, private investigator Chance Gordon works with the city's finest in order to get the Hellfire Arms back where they belong before the human race is slaughtered by Hellfire. Bullets will be exchanged, and bodies will hit the floor.

TaintedMetal · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
164 Chs

Passing Through in the Bay, I

Valefar sat on top of the rooftop of Carlyle Tower, the large tall round building served as his chair whilst viewing the city. He had all the time in the world for the moment, no asshole to pick on. 

Wonder if Drip Work Inc's gone for good, he thought about the organization. Whether Bright had them hidden good or not, there wasn't any clear indication that the organization was done for. 

Maybe I'll run into them at Oyster Bay, he thought. Perhaps they ran over there before Bright unleashed the crimson city, his powers all together. 

He snapped his fingers and the Hellfire telephone emerged in a puff of smoke. He punched in the number to the Gunsmith's chambers. 

"Hey Gunsmith, it's Valefar, I'm just about to head to Oyster Bay….why? To check on the Hellfire Arms Freddie recovered."

The Representative sighed. "Bright ambushed me with his crimson at the time, but I had the Hellfire shadows go to the OBPD before it all happened."