A Man’s World

Ray feels like she sometimes forgets a few crucial details about Nik due to his naturally cheery and slightly immature disposition. While she has killed her fair share, she cannot say she faced half the torturous things Nik seems to hide from her and the other half he is casual about. Facing primordials and surviving them, taking on Ozai, liberating lands, and bearing their distraught states long enough to resolve himself to help who he can by using his space instead of making it a personal paradise Ray strives for. Frankly, his words last night should have been a good reminder about how he seems to grasp certain things better than her. It should have reminded her Nik came from filth, born in such streets and molded by the corrupt forces of his world before escaping in his manner.

So, was it surprising when he remained ignorant of the droves of hardened Russians occupying the interior?—How he merely glanced at the lone blonde-haired woman in her burgundy suit sitting by the bar on her lonesome with Bao keeping his head low. The sound of his boots, the stench of their cigarettes and cigars, and his action of calmly donning an apron over his trusty hoody seem all too comforting in Ray's eyes as Nik pats Bao's shoulder before whispering something in his ear. An apology, Ray could hear it.

She would like to follow after him, but for once, Ray realizes she is out of her depths. Seeing characters on paper does not justify their presence, and just dealing with a few psychopaths hasn't tempered her enough to handle the shit she wanted to be a part of. It's true. She wanted to do something 'fun' since she has a partner. She wouldn't stir things up unless to complete her mission or maintain her safety had she been alone.

She takes a deep breath before turning around, only to watch a notification in the corner of her eyes.

[Nut-Cracking-Messiah: Stay. It's only intimidating if you let it get to you.]

He doesn't drones about how she is objectively stronger. He caught on quickly, huh—she strains a smile. But deep down, she also feels relieved at having such a partner. Despite his possible high rating, having such a partner isn't bad.

She turns around with a hearty smile and steps behind the counter to wear her apron under the gazes of a hardened man and a quiet woman who takes her time to size them up.

---

Her scars don't catch the youth's attention, neither does her military coat, so he is either inexperienced about war ranks or hard-headed. But that wouldn't be true. A reckless one wouldn't disregard her. They would feel insecure. They would brag and insult her show of force. No, he wouldn't wear an apron as if it's a regular day and whisper words of apology in their employer's ear. The other one, the girl, certainly looks out of her depths but follows along nicely. She's the one who's salting Revy's balls lately, and she can tell at a glance that Ray still has some 'recklessness' left to be polished away.

It doesn't matter to her anyway. And she isn't here to show these kids down for their words. That would be a show of her insecurities, which no longer exists. It's like the scars on her face, arm, neck, breasts, stomach, and legs—nothing falters her.

He glances over at her again, his gaze lingering on her empty glass before he walks from the bar to Boris, her 'Sergeant.'

"So? Big Guy," he smiles. "You aren't here to waste my time again, right? Are you going to order something?"

Bao squeaks at Nik's words as she looks at him for a moment before regarding the girl, Ray. She taps the rim of her glass with a smile while resting her unscarred cheek on her other hand with a cigar. "Whiskey," she demands calmly.

Once Nik serves others' orders, he returns to the bar with a curious expression. "I expected the 'Boss' to be a man taller than that guy over there." He points at Boris as she would introduce them. "His name is Boris, my right-hand man. He will be the one to make contacts in the future."

"Ah," he smiles pleasantly. "So you understand our terms and conditions."

And that's where the problem is. She realized early with how Boris described the man that there's no disrespect in his tone but indifference—and that's problematic. Almost the entire Roanapur doesn't respect her as a person. That's fine. As long as her branch produces the expected results, it doesn't matter if the city's filth calls her names or draws demeaning illustrations in the filthiest corner of the town.

Fry-Face, they call her. It's an adequate homage to her scars as any. It's not like war deserves honor, so why would scars of war require honorable titles?

"By terms and conditions, you're referring to those jokes?" She tilts her head, catching her cigar between her teeth after sipping her whiskey. "I have an opportunity for you. One that might find you escaping the High Table's target. You will find quickly in our line of work that the High Table cares more about results and a target's objective value."

"Does it involve killing?" Nik leans with interest, his subtle scent washing over her for a second. There's something in his gaze that she finds inherently repulsive. It seems to intensify when he talks about murder.

"It does."

"A bummer," he leans back. "Be sure to clear the streets once you finish your drinks. It's bad for business."

Even she can hear hands finding their guns behind her, so is it a wonder the girl looks tense? But Nik glances at her dismissively, not saying a word. It only hits her then that the youth is honestly waiting for her to finish her whiskey.

So, he doesn't get scared and doesn't take well to authority. And she can 'smell' the power around him. Isn't that just the worst combination?

"Bao," she looks to the silent owner. "Why did you hire them?"

Her question flounders the man as he stammers. Weird, did she frighten him so much? It's the first time she's seen the usual cooperative Bao fumble.

No matter.

"The Dundies," she ignores Bao before looking at the duo. "I trust my men with my life, so I believe Boris when he said it's the name based on an American sitcom. Who named it?"

"Ah," Nik smirks. "That's Ray. I still haven't got any time to binge TV Shows like her."

Ray sputters before tossing Nik an ugly glare as she observes the duo. "Walk me through this 'Non-Fatal' Assassination of yours." She attracts their attention. "You were correct yesterday in declining my invitation. We shouldn't waste each others' time. So, make the explanation good. If I feel like my time's wasted…" Her words linger as the sound of guns cocking echo in the pub.

"That's cool," Nik smiles. "So, you just show up and demand things. It'll take me some time to act appropriately. You seem to know everything about the city, but I don't even know your name." He leans forward again, not asking but demanding. "Correct that for me."

She sighs. Nik's a lost cause. Her men—

"Ugh!"

"Hrrgh!"

Pained grunts and yelps echo in the pub as her eyes widen before she glances at her men. All of them sport trembling knees as they shudder in a spot with pained expressions on their faces. They drop their guns one by one, including Boris. Sweat layers their faces as they grit their teeth to control their voice, but nothing seems to work as they look like stationary dolls.

"That is 'Non-Fatal' Assassination," she hears him speak from behind. "Right now, they feel their hearts trying to burst through their chests and their blood rebelling against their vessels. They won't die. But with enough time, the toughest will wish they did."

She turns to look at the youth. Did he poison them? It's possible. Ray poured her drinks while Nik took care of the rest. Only she seems unaffected.

"How long till the poison wears off?" She questions.

"What poison?"

She frowns, reaching for her gun, only to stop when she hears crashes behind her. She turns to look at her men as they collapse on the ground. But Nik's unmistakable presence momentarily intensifies behind her. She glances at him as he smiles, "Your name?"

"... Balalaika." She narrows her eyes as his smile widens.

"Balalaika, hmm. As I said, you seem to know everything about the city. So, I should add to your knowledge I have a distaste for guns and not for the reasons you might think."

She seems to realize something as she reaches for her waist only to find her holster bereft of her pistol.

"Next time, we should talk about your scars. I bet they have an intriguing story. Or you might just have the right job for us."

Balalaika smiles at Nik.

She knows it in her bones—she will put a bullet in his dome one of these days.

"And don't look at me like that. Reserve it until you tell me your real name." He smiles back. "I hope you will consider our pub for future meetings."

The woman doesn't answer but leaves her seat and walks to the exit, expecting her men to follow despite the pain—and they do. Some toss him nasty glares while Boris exits with a deep frown.

---

"H-Huaaaaaa!" Ray exhales, touching her chest and feeling her wildly beating heartbeat. "Did that happen?"

"See? When I started, I would have pissed myself," Nik smiles at Ray. "But you can endure things after a few experiences~!"

---

"He did what?" Dutch stares at the wall while speaking on the telephone. "And you want us to escort them? Well, that is part of our job, and they don't seem to have any transport."

The voice continues until Dutch inquires, "And the other guys? Everyone knows about Red Eye. It was a public spectacle."

"I see. I suppose Revy will lose her shit, but that comes with the job. I understand."

He hangs up as Revy looks up from her porno magazine, this time taking the couch for herself as she raises an eyebrow. "So? What's the job?"

"A 'Non-Fatal' Assassination."

Revy blanks out before scowling—"Fuck no!"

---

"Woah! It brings back memories~!" Ray smiles widely as the salted winds assail her senses, causing her to spread her hands open on the deck before adding mischievously, "Even if we were on the ship only a few days ago."

"So, the ship moves when you push it forward?" Meanwhile, Nik tries to learn the ways of ship steering by sitting beside Dutch with a glaring Revy in their presence.

"Among other things," Dutch hums. "Usually, we have our living cargo wait inside the engine room."

"That's boring," Nik rolls his eyes. "I want to learn about boats. That way, I can steer one myself."

"And die in a watery grave," Revy adds from the sidelines, constantly stamping her boots against a ledge.

"So, this is the first mission. I didn't expect you to pull a stunt like that on Hotel Moscow."

"Damn right. Anego will have his head one of these days," Revy sneers.

"I've only heard about the bosses of the city and how terrifying they are," Nik crosses his arms. "It's okay if they ARE terrifying. But why do they have to show off their cocks in front of me? Do they see me doing the same? I'm a Bar Waiter! So, I think it's hilarious retribution when they get a kick in their metaphorical nuts."

"You did that for humor?" Revy frowns before scowling. "Fuck. That's funny when you think about it."

"No, it's not." They hear Benny's voice from the communicator. "Anyway, Nik. What's your job? I still don't understand how an assassination can be non-fatal."

"Oh, we spent a lot of time thinking about it!" Ray climbs down into the control unit with a grin. "I wanted to start an Assassination business, while Nik wanted to kill only when he was comfortable about it. Or, as he says, pushed to extreme discomfort. So, he was the one who decided that as long as a person suddenly forgets their ambitions and goal, they are considered dead and have a new lease to pursue other things."

"A memory wipe," Dutch whistles. "You two can do that?"

They nod at once as Revy clicks her tongue, broaching the subject. "What do I have to do to get my cutlass back?"

"I haven't thought of it yet unless Ray has a few other people she wants to know about."

Ray crosses her arms before shaking her head in response. "Nope. Nobody comes to mind."

"Tch," Revy grits her teeth.

"So," Nik begins. "Any adventurous stories? You guys are pirates, right?"

"Every day is an adventure," Benny supplants.

"That's crap," Revy refutes. "I get bloody boring on days without a job."

"As Benny said," Dutch affirms. "Stay in Roanapur, and you'll have your share of adventures without needing to listen to others."

"Ah," Nik sighs. "Since you two seem to hold Balalaika in high esteem, I planned to trade her gun for a good story."

"So, did I ever tell you we fought off surviving Nazi Camp?" Revy parrots on with wide eyes as she explains every bit of her adventure, from diving into the water and robbing a watery grave to taking out hordes of men alongside Dutch.

And all Nik had to say was—"Does this Nazi guy have a surname?"

Ray, Revy, and Dutch stare at Nik for a long while.

"What?"

"How do you not know about the World War?" Benny questions.

"Ah, so this Nazi guy earned honor in some war?" Nik blinks.

"Ohhh," Ray teethers fearfully. "We'd get chased by the public so hard if they heard you say that!"

"Damn right," Dutch grunts.

Revy instead smiles. "Don't listen to them. Nazi Chaplin was a nice guy, albeit misunderstood. He tried to end all wars by promoting unity! In the end, the world's darkness was too overwhelming to bear, and he committed suicide."

"That's… sad," Nik sighs. Revy smirks triumphantly, only for Nik to continue. "That's so sad! To think you actually believe I won't smell the stench of shit you're trying to feed me!"

"Whatever!" Her smile recedes as she shows him the finger. "Choke on those guns!" She pulls another gun from her holster at a moment's thought only to find it snatched from her hands. This time, she focused on Nik and saw how quickly he moved. "Anything else?" He questions curiously.

It won't work. Revy snorts and walks out of the control unit. 'What's with that speed?'

---

The Dundies' Job was supposed to be an actual assassination instead of their made-up, non-fatal one. Hotel Moscow needs a man in a particular tourist ship gone at the dead of the night—a clean kill. He's a government official from some location Nik didn't care enough to remember and has honorable motives that don't sit with his dishonorable surroundings. Since it's a high-class traveling ship catering to the upper ranks of society, it's packed with security. In all honesty, Balalaika gave express permission to use 'any' means to ensure the official does the exact opposite of what he's set out to do.

"But Ray's my partner," Nik frowns. "What's it with you turning up instead of her?"

"Insurance, dumbass," Revy snorts. "Anego isn't so kind that she'll happily accept failure. For her, being an 'Escort' means returning with success. Of course, she won't kill us for your failure, but I'd rather avoid the hassle if your pussy methods don't work."

"I see," Nik hums. "But what would holding Ray as a hostage achieve? You know she's stronger than me, right?"

Revy smirks. "That bitch?" She taps her head while walking the dim corridors of the Ship. "It ain't all about power. It's in here. Anego thinks you're the real freak among the Dundies."

"That's unfortunate," Nik mutters as he stops in front of the door. "Stay out."

"Or what?"

"Or I'll assassinate you in a Non-Fatal manner. You'll forget your joy and your reasons for becoming the woman you are." Showing Revy a twisted smirk, Nik snickers. "A woman like you would hate it if you lost your hatred and self-loathing, no?"

Her pupils slightly shrink as she grabs his collar before growling at him. "One more word, and I'll shred your ass."

"Just keep out of my way," Nik smiles while shoving Revy away as he enters the room, using metalbending to unlock the door. He glances back to meet her glare before closing the door on her.

"So," Nik walks to the peacefully sleeping middle-aged man. "I'm sorry. But I also don't particularly regret my actions." He reaches out for the man as he feels something wrong. There's just something in the air that doesn't feel right.

---

"Dutch! Move the ship now!"

"Talk to me, Benny!" Dutch frowns as Ray hurries out to the deck, and her eyes widen in surprise. "It's a—"

"Missile!" Benny shouts at the top of his lungs as Dutch throttles forward instinctively and without hesitation.

[Smexy-succu-succu: Enter your personal space! There's a fucking missile gunning for your ship!]

*Pheeeeeeeeeeeeew*

Black Lagoon barely puts any distance before a tremendous shockwave rocks it whole as the giant travel ship explodes into smithereens!

***

Alternate Title: The Cheerful Waiter; Tempered Man; Folly and Guns; Wasted Time; A Job; A Glance into Non-Fatal Assassination; Bloodbending and Bonebending; A Torturous Affair; One Good Introduction; The Gun Snatcher At It Again; Clash of Hardheads; Not Bending Backward; Stuff of Craziness; The Dundies' First Mission; A Job Gone Wrong; Nik: So, Was Hitler Good? *Also Revy: Evil Grin*; Revy and Nik On Their Way To Cure Racism By Saying The Wildest Shit!; A Wrong Hostage; The Sudden Kaboom!

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Balalaika

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