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The Hero's Villain: My Friend and I

"Every fairy tale needs a good old fashioned villain" - Jim Moriarty I was the son of a CEO and COO of a consulting company. My whole life, despite never being present for most of it, I'd been trying to get them to notice me. But no matter what I did, they wouldn't do anything. Playing instruments, getting into the 99.9th percentile, or theft, none of it really got their attention. What happens when you die? Some people think you go to heaven or hell while others think you get reincarnated. But me? I never gave much thought to the idea. That was until a truck rammed into me. People are inherently evil and selfish. So, given the option, most people would choose paradise. However, I reject paradise. God gave me a choice: to either help my friend become a strong and worthy hero as a villain in a new and unknown world, or to pass on to heaven. But make no mistake. I'm not a good person. I'll do whatever I have to in order to survive or achieve my goals. I will walk on the thin line between hero and villain, sometimes tripping into one side or the other. Some may hate me, and some may root for me. To me, it doesn't matter. As long as I get what I want. Then he gave me another choice, infinite magic or knowledge. And I choose ... My first time writing, so if it's bad you know why. (Cross-posting on RR soon)

Zarc · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
45 Chs

Operation Lupin II

"Before I say what I need to, I must humbly apologize for the manner I've gotten your attention and for any anxiety that I've caused, but rest assured that no one got harmed," My voice carried a regretful undertone. I had to play the PR game not just good, but great. I had to minimize the number of things that could be used against me.

"I'll try not to take up too much of your time," I said respectfully. "Like many of you, I'm sure that we're tired of the government. The taxes, communism, unjust laws, and a plethora of other things have been imposed against us without representation."

"But you only know half of the story," I said as several documents began to appear on the screen. It was all transaction statements directly from the government.

"Your money is funding parties for the elite," I said as documents showing that the king had spent $20 million collected from tax had been spent on a luxury mansion, speakers, and entertainment. Pictures of the ghettos in the cities were also displayed with people dumpster diving.

"Used to oppress your own people," Military documents for drone strikes in cities and villages were displayed on the screen.

"And simply given to the rich in order to keep the people poor," Transactions directly from the government to private bank accounts were displayed. The total amount was in the hundreds of millions.

Everyone on the streets gasped as they saw all the documents. Some cried due to their money being used in such a manner and others were outraged by the absurdity of some of the uses. Even the people who supported communism were upset. The payments to the rich directly contradicted the goal of it. In just a minute, we went from deplorable international terrorists to justified revolutionists.

"I'm here to say that enough is enough," I strongly declared. "The government doesn't support us but only the powerful."

"I'm here to take a stand against the powerful, the ones who don't face consequences. And that's where I need your help."

"I'm not asking for all of you to take a stand with me. I understand that there are those with kids who need them, those who can't take the risk. But for those who can, those who have enough, hear this plea."

"I need you to riot, to practice civil disobedience," I said. "I need all of us to hit them so fast and so hard that they can't handle all of us. For we either win together, or we'll lose together!"

My voice was loud and assertive. I said that last part as if it were a war cry to let the idea sink in further. All throughout the nation, people began to cheer. Chaos flooded the street as people began to yell and band together.

"Thank you for listening," I said as a smile could be made out in the darkness. "Let's take our country back!"

I walked up to the camera and closed it. The broadcast ended as the streets began to fill with rebellion.

-----

"And for the second step," I said as I leaned closer to them.

"It's a cry for help," I didn't say anything after that. They let the idea sink in. 

Calling upon the people would make them feel empowered and part of something greater. The feeling of grandeur. The feeling will allow people to do more drastic behavior that they normally wouldn't do. In this instance, rioting.

"And now for what this actually is," I moved to the left of the whiteboard to show a photograph of a museum and crown.

"You're going to steal one of the most valuable things to a nation."

-----

Hanson, Andres, Leo, and the shopkeeper were standing in a museum. Wearing their backpacks, they looked like tourists who had just gone to the museum after a hike.

It was densely populated that day. Several tour groups were wandering around and taking pictures. Most of their eyes were drawn to one thing, in particular, the crown. 

The very symbol of monarchy was on display for the world to see. It held a more symbolic meaning, however. The crown from Spain was in Versailles, France. It was a symbol of their dominance over the nation. The true rulers.

"Gentlemen, are you there?" My voice came over their walkie-talkies. Hanson quickly pulled out the walkie-talkie from a hidden compartment in the backpack.

"Yes, we are," All four of them responded.

"It's time to begin Operation Lupin," I declared.

They all looked at each other anxiously before speaking. "Copy that."

Hanson quickly put the walkie-talkie back into the backpack and the four of them made their way to the bathroom. It looked odd that the four of them were going in together, but it didn't really matter.

When they entered, Hanson opened the compartment once again and pulled out a small box. He opened it and inside was a red button. With a deep inhale, he nervously pressed it.

In just a second, booms were heard in the distance as screams began to flood the museum. Alarms blared as instructions were being yelled out in a language that the four couldn't understand.

"Three minutes," The shopkeeper said as he looked at his watch. "We start in three minutes."

—--

"A crown?" Hanson asked.

I nodded. "What makes a person the king? Only a single object. Taking it takes away his power."

From under the table, I used both hands to carry a heavy backpack onto the table. When it made contact, a heavy thud was heard throughout the room. Everyone raised an eyebrow at the contents.

"I told you before that these backpacks will have everything you need," I began as I turned it around to reveal a small, hidden compartment. The zipper blended in with the back and unless you knew it was there, it was hard to see.

The compartment was lined with barium sulfate so as to not be caught on X-rays. "Walkie-talkie goes in here as well as the detonator,"

I rotated the backpack once again so that the bottle holders could be seen. "You'll have two bottles, one with chemicals and one with an extremely cold liquid."

"When Operation Lupin starts, the museum will be evacuated. You're going to need to hide out in the bathroom to avoid being seen, but before you do, place these bottles around the museum."

"I'm assuming there's something special with the contents," Hanson surmised.

"Yes," I said. "It contains something called halothane. When you breathe it in, you get knocked out in seconds."

"Speed is key here. When everyone gets evacuated, only armed guards will remain. The bottles will slowly put their contents in the air and knock them out."

"Won't we breathe it in too?" Hanson asked.

I took out a face mask and put it on to demonstrate. "Simple, yet effective."

I slowly took it off and threw it towards Michael. He immediately moved back in disgust before standing up to let it fall and kicking it away.

"Now for the big problem; breaking the glass," I put a photograph of the crown up in it's enclosure, surrounded by a thick piece of glass.

"This glass is one of the hardest ones in the world," I said. "Virtually indestructible from just hitting it."

"And we have to break it," The shopkeeper said with a sigh.

"Not through force," I began. "But through science. Or more specifically, heat."

All of them tilted their heads. Michael had a small smile on his face, already knowing what was coming next.