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Quirky Row Chapter 58: Saint's Row
🕑 Added 2025-10-10 16:01:50 +0000 UTCChapter 58: Saint’s Row
(Monday, April 23rd, 2124)
“Since when could the Philips Building do that?”
Rafflesia’s question was a legitimate one. Sadly, Skunk did not have an answer, and he doubted anyone aside from Dane Vogel and the now dead Ultor board members did.
When Vogel had escaped to the Philips Building, he’d ordered a lockdown of the place, and armored shutters capable of taking multiple hits from a rocket launcher had slid into place over the windows and doors, sealing off the entire structure.
There were also defensive turrets that would open fire on anyone approaching, and not even the air was safe as one unfortunate news helicopter had found out when AA rockets had been launched from the roof and brought it crashing down into the waters nearby.
The Saints had gathered in front of the Ultor corporation’s headquarters around midnight, armed to the teeth and dressed for success, but even they lacked the firepower to tear through the defenses.
‘And that’s before we mention the legion of police and heroes guarding the premises,’ Skunk mused to himself as he stared at the misguided law officials.
The live-streamed executions of countless people and Silver Swan likely had something to do with it. It had been vigilantism at best, especially as Twenty-One and the rest of the techy Saints uploaded every scrap of evidence of wrongdoings to the internet. And these weren’t ‘forgot to tip one time and jaywalked last week’ sort of antics, these were ‘I’ve been cheating the IRS and murdering hookers for over three decades’ sort of crimes.
But the heroes and police, no matter how foolish it was to try and protect such people, would still try to do their job. Skunk could respect that dedication, but right now, it was a pain in his ass.
“Shame we don’t have anything that can take them all out,” Defender sighed, looking quite imposing in his brutal black knight armor.
“While we’re at it, let’s just ask for gold to rain from the skies,” Carlos – or rather, Tusk in his villain outfit – snorted, his boar mask shifting as he scratched his chin.
“It won’t be long before we have a way in,” Johnny reminded them. Nobody dared mention aloud that the Masako were working with them in case a hidden mic or Quirk-enhanced hearing picked it up, but they all knew what he was referring to.
“Actually, there is something I could try to clear out the pigs,” Skunk said slowly.
“You do?” Tusk asked, surprised and eager, but Johnny turned to look at his boss with a very rare look of fear.
“No… no! Skunk, you promised never to do that ever again! Not after the Rotten Meat incident!”
“Rotten Meat?” Rafflesia asked. “Wait, wasn’t that the event that ended Los Carnalos?”
“I remember something about that,” Mink hummed. “Something about a really bad smell…”
“Oh, yeah!” Defender nodded. “I remember that! City smelled worse than usual for like a week!”
“Yup,” Johnny said. “There are some things Skunk is never allowed to do again… and that’s one of them!”
“But it would clear them out,” Playa reminded him. “We won’t have to waste manpower breaking through or acting as a distraction. Plus, it will be non-lethal.”
“Yeah, but we won’t be able to do anything ourselves! The heroes will be incapacitated, but so will our own men!” Johnny reminded him.
“Good point, I don’t have nearly enough smell-blocking gasmasks for everyone. Maybe just for the Inner Circle, but that’d be it,” Skunk hummed.
“Smell-blocking…? Skunk, have you been experimenting on ways to negate the effect? Even after Julius and I banned you?” Johnny demanded incredulously.
“Uh… I plead the Fifth,” Skunk coughed awkwardly.
Johnny let out a groan. “No, boss! We’re not doing this!”
“Hey, boss?” Twenty-One called out. “The mayor is holding a press conference. Um, you might wanna hear it.”
She held up her phone and turned up the volume, allowing the group to hear what Mayor Monica Hughes was saying.
“…and that is why I am declaring the Third Street Saints as a terrorist organization!” she screamed, practically frothing at the mouth as she slammed a fist onto the podium. “I hearby authorize all law enforcement to use lethal force to take down these criminals and finally make Stilwater safe!”
“Can she do that?” Defender asked nervously as the lieutenant muted the phone.
“Declare us terrorists? No,” Twenty-One assured him. “As for telling the cops and heroes to take no prisoners? Also no. But right now, nobody is able to contradict or countermand her orders. It’d take the governor or somebody from higher up the food chain to shut it down. By then, it might be too late.”
“Well, looks like we don’t have a choice but to use my secret weapon,” Skunk said smugly. “Mink, I have some specially made gasmasks in the limo. Can you get them?”
“Yes!” she nodded, rushing off.
“Johnny, I want you to warn the Saints. Tell them to go to ground for a day or two. Only the Inner Circle will be going forward.”
“Is that wise?” Rafflesia asked while Johnny sent out a gang-wide alert.
“We don’t have a choice. This attack of mine can cause… collateral damage,” Skunk warned. “And like I said… I only have enough protection for a few people.”
“Here!” Mink said, dragging a duffle bag over. She unzipped it, revealing a dozen modified gasmasks. Johnny grabbed one and immediately put it, and after a moment so too did everyone else.
“So, how does these work?” Tusk wondered. “They look the same as the regular kind. What makes ‘em better?”
“Special numbing agent nasal spray will be shot into the mask to numb our noses and deaden our sense of smell,” Skunk replied. “Now, get ready. We’ve got company.”
Up ahead, a single hero stepped out from behind the barricades the cops had set up, staring down at the Saints.
“SKUNK!” Steel Sponge the Number 2 – now Number 1, with Silver Swan dead – called out through a megaphone, anger tinging his voice. “SURRENDER!”
“Fuck off!” Johnny retorted, flipping him off.
“Sorry, Sponge, but there’s no surrender!” Skunk shouted back. “Dane Vogel has to die! He’s the real terrorist, here!”
“Being a greedy businessman is not a crime!” Steel Sponge claimed, but everyone in the Saints just snorted.
“Technically, it is, depending on what rules he broke in order to pursue his greed,” Defender pointed out.
“Besides, that’s not what makes him a terrorist!” Skunk scoffed. “Still, if you won’t move, we’ll make our own way through you!”
“You’re outnumbered!” Steel Sponge called back. “Your own gang members are deserting you! And the mayor has authorized lethal force to be used!”
“Maybe, but those aren’t all that matter in a fight!” Skunk declared, before rolling up his left sleeve. A few moments later, beads of sweat appeared on his skin, chemically altered by his Quirk, and he flicked his wrist, sending droplets flying towards the barricade.
Immediately, the heroes and cops began to retch and scream. Vomit sprayed everywhere and tears poured from reddening eyes as a scent so horrid, so foul, seeped into the air causing mass chaos throughout the rows of law enforcement gathered to eliminate them.
“Thioacetone. One of the smelliest damn chemicals in existence,” Skunk explained, glad he’d activated his gasmasks and injected the deadening agent into his nostrils. Even then, the stench was potent that he could still smell – and taste – it, even with the former sense numbed.
“Oh, God!” Mink squealed.
“My nose! My tongue!” Tusk whimpered.
“Told ya,” Johnny grumbled.
“If it’s this bad even with our noses wrecked, how bad is it for them?” Rafflesia wondered with morbid curiosity as she watched the poor souls wail in despair.
“Come on, we won’t have a better chance,” Skunk said, urging his Inner Circle forward, and they began to walk over the collapsed bodies of the suffering heroes, wading through a sea of bile and other fluids.
Normally, the turrets should have started shooting, but something had disabled their targeting parameters, and it let the Saints walk towards the building without issue.
Upon reaching the doors that were sealed by blast shutters, they waited for a bit. A beep rang out a couple seconds later, and one hatch swung open, allowing them to enter. When all of them were inside, it sealed itself shut behind them.
“This place is pretty spooky in the dark,” Tusk muttered, looking around at the abandoned lobby. Somebody, possibly Vogel himself, had evacuated the building before he’d turned on the security system, leaving only eerie red emergency lights to light up the place.
“We won’t have to walk up a bunch of stairs, will we?” Rafflesia wondered. “Because exercise plus nasty smell equals unhappy girl.”
“The Masako should have kept the elevators running,” Defender said. “Or maybe they’ll turn them back on just for us.”
As he finished talking, there was a soft “Ding!” and an elevator opened up just for them.
“Somebody is watching and listening,” Twenty-One guessed as she looked around before eventually waving at a security camera.
“Come on, babe, let’s not keep the boss’s friends waiting,” Tusk urged, and she nodded.
The group of Saints then boarded the elevator and rode it up to the top of the building, stepping out into a place that was at first glance a plain waiting room. However, it was soon apparently that everything was made of high-quality materials.
Fine marble tiles for the floors, gold railings, and a considerable amount of fancy paintings and artworks as decorations. It was tastefully subdued, but still showed off Ultor’s wealth.
Standing at the end of the lobby was Kagami Masako, head of the titular PMC, and Sakura and Ryu were nearby as well. They were relaxed but still had their combat outfits on, ready if things took a bad turn.
“You’re here,” Kagami muttered. “Good.”
“As we agreed,” Skunk replied.
“Did you have to use that stink bomb?” Sakura asked with a gag, pinching her nose. “This place has its own air filtration system but I can still tell it’s clinging to you guys.”
“Sorry,” the villain snorted. “Now what?”
“Vogel’s back there, in his office,” Kagami replied, jerking a thumb over his shoulder. “Go ahead and deal with him as you see fit.”
“You sure you’re okay with this?” Skunk asked. “He is still the guy who hired you.”
“It’s the best option we have,” Kagami replied. “Breaking a contract is not something a merc can do easily, even if the client broke it first.”
He waved a hand. “That’s why we went along with your plan. There’s no shame in losing a client to you or the Saints, Skunk-San. We’ll pretend to fight, but we’ll let you win.”
“That was the plan,” Skunk agreed.
“Besides, this way it lets us operate without the Demon Lord knowing we know he’s still alive,” Sakura said, the fox-eared swordswoman grinning darkly.
“That too,” Kagami nodded. “If we broke the contract using the Demon Lord clause, word would eventually get around amongst the merc community. And since Dane Vogel wasn’t one of All for One’s servants during the Dark Age, people would ask questions about how he could have qualified for that sort of breakage of contract in the first place.”
“Thus alerting All for One or one of his other minions that you know, and need to be eliminated,” Skunk finished, figuring out the reasoning.
“The longer he’s in the dark, the better,” Ryu commented, and that was something the American supervillain could wholeheartedly support.
“We should still make some noise. Make it seem like were fighting,” Rafflesia suggested.
“Good idea. We don’t know if Vogel has any sort of alarms or backup plans if we go rogue on him,” Ryu agreed.
“I can get behind that,” Sakura commented before turning to Johnny with a sultry smile. “So, I saw you had a proper sword when I was evacuating the client. Wanna see who’s better?”
“Why not,” Johnny replied, raising his katana. “Might as well have some fun.”
The two of them began to clash, and the first few strikes revealed that the mercenary had a weapon capable of standing up to Johnny’s heavily modified sword. They began a deadly dance, not at all caring if a missed strike decapitated a statue or ruined a painting.
Sighing at his companion’s antics, Ryu flipped a switch on the side of his stylized dragon helmet and unleashed a burst of flames from it’s maw, which caused the other Saints to yelp and scatter.
Kagami snickered at his accountant’s annoyance before turning invisible, vanishing from sight. Tusk doubled over with grunt as his stomach was hit, and Kagami reappeared in front of him a second later, dodging a kick from Twenty-One who leapt to defend her boyfriend.
Ignoring the sparring session that had erupted behind him, Skunk kept on walking towards Vogel’s office. Rather than break the doors down he pushed them open and quietly closed them behind him when he was through.
“So. You’re here,” Dane Vogel muttered, staring at his computer, the light of the screen giving him a ghoulish appearance.
“Yup.”
“You got past the Masako.”
“They put up a fight, but Johnny and the others bought me time to get here,” Skunk replied. It was a lie, but Vogel probably already knew that. He was shrewd.
“Hm. I can smell it, you know? The oozing stench of whatever trick you pulled to take down the heroes,” he commented, still ignoring the supervillain.
“Yeah. Sorry, it’s gonna linger for a while,” Skunk said.
“You knew it was a trap the whole time, didn’t you?” Vogel inquired.
“Duh. Do you know how many people have tried to kill me, frame me, or humiliate me?” Skunk asked. “I’ve gotten very good at figuring out when somebody has it in for me. And obviously I planned ahead to counter your trap. Surprised you killed the Ultor board, though.”
“They were holding the company back,” Vogel replied. “I built Ultor into the behemoth it is today. Not them. They were content to wallow in mediocrity and then steal the credit.”
“Alright. That explains why you killed them. But why did you work with All for One? Why build his Nomu?” Skunk demanded.
At this, Vogel looked up. “Be careful when you say his name. He can hear you.”
That sent a shiver of fear through the villain, though he didn’t know why, and he forced it down before pointing his revolver at the executive. “I’m still waiting for an answer.”
“Half a billion dollars does not appear out of nowhere,” Vogel replied with a shrug. “I made a deal, and I paid for it by setting up the Pyramid for the sake of that madman’s ambitions. ‘Demon Lord.’ Ha! More like an edgy try-hard.”
“You made a deal with the devil,” Skunk hummed. “But it doesn’t seem like you regret it that much.”
“Why would I? He wanted results and invested heavily in Ultor. Over two-thirds of the products on the market bearing our logo are thanks to his generosity. Yes, I had to make some monsters and work with a crazy geneticist – thanks for killing him, by the way, I genuinely did not like that man – but sometimes that’s what happens,” Vogel replied.
“What are you doing now, then?” Skunk asked slowly.
“Oh, nothing much. Just activating the self-destruct sequence in the Pyramid and the Philips building and deleting all of the data in our servers across the world,” Vogel replied with a straight face. “Ultor is going to die today. And I might as well be the one to pull the trigger.”
“Shit!” Skunk exclaimed, shooting him in the face. Except the bullet never reached him. Instead it flipped around in the air and shot back at the villain who narrowly dodged his own shot.
“My Quick, Flip. It lets me physically flips things. That’s it,” Vogel drawled. “But, it’s good enough for keeping a single gangbanger from shooting me before my job is done.”
Concerned, Skunk rose back up and tested his claim, trying to shoot the businessman in the face, but it was once more reflected.
The villain tried once more, aiming at the computer, but it didn’t hit. And when he tried to shoot the power cable that was connecting the device to whatever power source was keeping it on, Vogel’s Quirk deflected the bullet back at the shooter.
‘Shit, this is bad!’ Skunk scowled. What could he do? He tried to fill the air with horrific stenches that would cause his opponent to lose control of his faculties, yet for some reason Vogel remained unaffected, even as he heard retching coming from behind the door.
“Sorry, but I took care of my sense of smell after coming here,” Vogel admitted, holding up an empty syringe. “Ever since you came back, I had the Pyramid working on building a counter to your Quirk. The method they came up with a chemical based sensory deadening agent. For the next twenty-four hours, my sense of smell is gone.”
Skunk growled, only for the anger to turn into panic as an alarm started to blare throughout the office.
“WARNING! WARNING! SELF-DESTRUCT SEQUENCE INITIATED! DO YOU WISH TO PROCEED?!” an AI screamed out through the speakers of the computer.
“Authorization sequence ‘Dane Vogel Always Wins,’” the executive uttered.
“COMMAND CONFIRMED! BEGINNING THE SELF-DESTRUCT PROCEDURES! HAVE A NICE DAY!” the AI replied.
“No… NO!” Skunk shouted, chucking whatever he could grab from the office… but it didn’t work. No matter how many fancy vases, elegant picture frames, and even a chair, but nothing worked. It all just came flying back at him.
“Just give up,” Vogel suggested, before fishing around in his desk. “Enjoy the little time you have left before it all goes up in smoke.”
He then held up a cigar. “Care for a smoke?”
“Why?” Skunk snarled. “Why blow it all up?!”
“Because if I can’t have it… no one can,” Vogel declared. “I made that vow when I was a child, trapped in the cesspit that was Saint’s Row. I clawed my way out, survived the cutthroat corporate lifestyle, and became the man I am today with my own efforts. And I will make sure I destroy everything I built with my own hands.”
“Scum,” Skunk spat out as Vogel lit up his cigar and puffed on it.
“Yes, I am. So what? You’re scum, I’m scum, the city is filled with scum. Let fire cleanse the island and make sure everything is given a blank slate.”
Skunk glared at him angrily, watching as smoke drifted into the sky. As he did, a wild idea came to mind.
“Your Quirk works on physical objects… but what about liquids?!” Skunk snarled, pointing his gauntlets at the businessman. Converting his sweat into hydrochloric acid, he winced as it burnt his skin, but the villain still managed to spray it out at Dane Vogel, who screamed in shock and then, finally, in pain as the acidic fluid melted his face.
He fell from his chair, writhing in agony as his skin blistered and dribbled away like molten wax. It wasn’t enough to outright kill him, but he stopped whatever he’d been doing, and gave Skunk a chance to stumble back to his feet and shoot the corporate madman in the head.
Unable to focus through the pain in order to use his Quirk, Dane Vogel finally died at the age of 33 due to a bullet putting him out of his misery.
Moments later, the other Saints and Masako burst into the office.
“Boss, what the hell is that smell?!” Defender asked. "Like burning flesh, but worse!"
“Forget that! What was that Self Destruct bullshit we heard?!” Sakura shouted.
“Vogel is a sore loser and he’s primed the Pyramid and this place to blow!” Skunk replied. “Twenty-One! Fix this!”
“Ryu, help her!” Kagami ordered. The two tech-minded people rushed to the desk and began to look over the computer, frantically typing away.
“Shit, it’s got a fingerprint lock and a retinal scan!” Ryu growled, thumping the desk angrily.
“Hang on, I have a solution!” Twenty-One called out before pulling out a switchblade. She then went to work sawing off a finger from Vogel’s hand and then picked up one of his eyes out of the puddle that was his head.
“Gross, but it works,” she replied, slapping them onto the scanner. After a tense moment there was a beep and the computer unlocked, revealing a countdown timer with less than a minute left.
“Shit, we don’t have much time!” Ryu gasped, before typing away. Twenty-One joined him, looking over his shoulder and pointing out things as they worked to undo what the Ultor exec had done.
Unfortunately, whoever had designed the self-destruct sequence had not wanted a way to turn it off after it was on.
“We have to get out of here!” Ryu shouted.
“How?!” Tusk shouted. “We’re at the top of the damn building and the shutters are blast proof!”
“Ten… nine… eight…”
“I survived one explosion, I’ll do it again!” Skunk declared. “Everyone, huddle up! Mink, grow as much fur as you can! Create a fuzzball around us! If we’re lucky it’ll muffle the impact!”
“On it!” she shouted, and pink fur erupted around her, enveloping everyone as they piled in close.
“Three… two… one… goodbye!”
Everyone flinched, waiting for the bombs to go off… and yet nothing happened. Well, not in the Philips building. There was a bomb followed by a shaking from off in the distance, and when nothing else happened, everyone looked around, confused.
“Shouldn’t we be dead?” Johnny asked, almost sounding disappointed.
“Maybe?” Skunk muttered. Mink retracted her fur when it was clear they were in the clear, and Rafflesia scratched her head.
“The hell happened, anyways?” she wondered.
“That explosion in the distance must have been the Pyramid… but why didn’t this place go up in smoke?” Kagami wondered.
“Because they never installed the bombs.”
Everyone spun around, weapons drawn, and the portly figure of Erik Gryphon quickly raised his hands.
“Whoa, whoa! Calm down!” he shouted.
“Who’s these dweeb?” Rafflesia asked.
“He’s head of Ultor’s R&D department, and the guy who ran the Pyramid,” Defender helpfully supplied.
“No shit?” the flower-themed villainess muttered, before shrugging. “Eh. Whatever. Should we kill him, get a full house?”
“I like that idea,” Johnny growled.
“Wait, wait!” Gryphon shouted. “Don’t kill me! I can help you!”
“Uh-huh. Sure,” Skunk drawled. “You helped Vogel and Ultor with the Pyramid. Do you also know about the guy who called himself a Demon Lord?”
“I-I only spoke with him remotely or met agents! Never saw the man in purpose!” Gryphon explained. “I just ran things for Vogel!”
“Then you have to die,” Skunk declared, and the Masako mercenaries all nodded in agreement.
“No, wait! If you kill me, you’ll lose everything!” Gryphon declared. “If you let me live, I can help you!”
“How so?” Skunk asked after a moment, gesturing for his companions to lower their weapons for now.
“A-as the last living member of Ultor’s Board of Executives, I am now in charge of… everything,” he revealed. “I am, essentially, Ultor.”
Gryphon got onto his knees in a show of submission. “Let me live, and I will name you all as replacement members for the board!”
“You what?” Johnny uttered incredulously. “You want to give us Ultor?”
“Everyone who could have said otherwise is dead because of Vogel,” Gryphon replied grimly.
“How did you even survive the assassination, anyways?” Mink demanded. “And what did you mean by the bombs weren’t installed?”
“I was working late! Do you have any idea how much paperwork there is running a clandestine research facility in the heart of Stilwater?” Gryphon asked rhetorically. “I only heard about what he did when the shutters sealed the building off. I accessed the internet and found that the news articles talking about what went down. Everyone was saying it was the Saints… but I know Vogel. And after the board humiliated him…”
“Alright, that explains why you didn’t attend the party. Now what about the self-destruct thingy?” Sakura demanded.
“We built the Philips building in five years! Do you have any idea how expensive that was? We never had the budget to finish installing the explosives!” Gryphon replied. “Sure, we installed the alert system along with the shutters and other safeguards, but the bombs were never a priority!”
“Probably because blowing up your own stuff was probably seen as a bad idea by the rest of the board. Assuming they knew about that plan in the first place,” Skunk muttered.
“You see?” Gryphon said, sweating nervously. “What do you say?”
“Killing him would be easier,” Kagami said. “And he worked for that man, after all.”
“I never wanted to work for the Demon Lord!” Gryphon protested. “He’s insane! But it was all Dane’s idea!”
“Alright, here’s what’s gonna happen,” Skunk said, stepping over to Gryphon and crouching down in front of him. “You’re gonna make us all big shot Ultor execs. You’ll also hand over everything you have that Vogel didn’t destroy that relates to all of Ultor’s dirty little secrets. Oh! And you have to stop doing fucking human experimentation! Do all that, and you keep your life and your cushy job, just as our new lapdog.”
“Yes! Anything!” he promised, relieved tears pouring down his face.
“What about the heroes?” Ryu asked. “They’re still outside.”
“And probably pissed at you for your trick,” Mink added, pinching her nose for emphasis.
“Don’t worry, we’ve got a plan,” Skunk assured them. “Johnny, you sent the text?”
“Before we went to the party. Our Ace in the Hole should be here soon to bail us out. Assuming Gryphon here gives us all the dirt we need,” Johnny replied.
“I-I can grab some physical files about the Nomus I have in my office?” Gryphon offered.
“Good. Let’s grab those then leave,” Skunk declared.
The group made their way out of Vogel’s office and went down a floor to Gryphon’s, where he grabbed a bunch of documents out of a secret safe, handing them to Skunk.
“Damn,” he whistled.
All the dirty intel on the Pyramid and the Nomus was here, as well as plenty of blackmail material on other board members. ‘Seems like Vogel wasn’t the only one to have contingency plans in case shit went down.’
The supervillain would still watch the last board member closely, but it seemed he’d been sufficiently cowed by the display of violence.
Next, the group rode the elevators down to the lobby, where they unlocked the shutdown protocols and raised the shutters. The stench still lingered, causing Gryphon and the Masako to gasp and choke, but the Saints ignored it and stepped out into the night air.
Heroes and police no longer writhed on the ground. Many were unconscious, but some were trying to stagger to their feet when they noticed the villains emerge. There were also media watching from a relatively stink-free distance.
“S-Saints!” somebody called out shakily. “Release your hostage and surrender!”
Skunk glanced at Gryphon who nervously looked back.
“Nah,” Skunk replied, flipping the hero off.
“I-in that case-!” the man started to speak, but was cut off by a loud voice.
“STAND DOWN!”
Everyone flinched as the voice rang out, before looking up at a shining figure that had flown in. There, hovering in the air between the heroes and villains was none other than Star and Stripe, the Number One heroine in the country.
The law enforcement suddenly looked excited and relieved, while the media began to film everything, even risking the stench to get better shots. Things improved when the flag themed heroine waved her hand, and the smell vanished, erased by her reality bending powers.
“Skunk,” she said, arms folded across her chest.
“Star,” the villain replied, before holding up the file in his hand. “For you.”
She floated over and grabbed the documents, causing Gryphon to flinch, and she began to flip through it, her expression growing darker with every sentence.
“I see,” Star muttered, before sighing. “Very well, then. It seems you have your deal.”
“Wonderful,” Skunk grinned beneath his mask. “Uh, would you please remove the kill orders the mayor slapped onto us, now?”
“Sure,” Star nodded, before floating towards the heroes and media who were staring at her in confusion.
“ATTENTION, STILWATER!” her voice boomed out over the city. “BY EXECUTIVE ORDER OF PRESIDENT HILTON, ALL MEMBERS OF THE THIRD STREET SAINTS ARE HEREBY PARDONED FOR ALL CRIMES THEY HAVE COMMITTED!”
An uproar erupted from the listeners, heroes and media alike screaming questions and denials.
“SILENCE!” Star roared, and silence fell when her Quirk imposed order onto the crowd. “FOR THEIR HELP IN UNCOVERING AND STOPPING ULTOR, WHO WERE WORKING WITH INTERNATIONAL CRIME SYNDICATES AND TERRORISTS, THE THIRD STREET SAINTS ARE PARDONED! THIS IS FINAL! FURTHER INFORMATION WILL BE GIVEN IN A LATER PRESS CONFERENCE! GOOD NIGHT!”
She then flew away in a burst of golden light, leaving everyone staring at where she’d just been.
“Holy shit, boss,” Rafflesia muttered. “That was one hell of an ace!”
“How did you even get that to happen?!” Tusk gasped.
“The U.S. government does not like the Demon Lord either,” Skunk replied calmly as he began to walk back to their vehicles. Somebody had put boots onto them to keep them in place, but the foxy katana wielding mercenary simply cut them off.
“Yeah, in exchange for bring them evidence of Ultor’s collusion with the guy, Star and the president agreed to give us all presidential pardons,” Johnny explained. “Oh, and we’re also now technically government contractors who will be tasked with hunting down the Three Musketeers rip off whenever he resurfaces.”
“Oh! So this was why you wanted to make us into a PMC!” Mink gasped in understanding.
“Yup. The pardon wiped our slate clear, and becoming a merc outfit will let us keep the guns and shit,” Skunk chuckled as they all piled into their vehicles. “Now, let’s get outta here. I want to sleep like the dead.”
He then shot Gryphon a look. “And I’ll be checking in on the progress of your promises later. Got it?”
“Yes!” Gryphon shouted nervously, and Skunk nodded before closing the door to the limo.
‘He probably hoped he wouldn’t have to go through with his promises. Likely because he thought we’d all get arrested,’ Skunk thought with a smirk as Mink drove them back to the Mission. ‘But joke is on him. We’re free men, now, and can legally own shit and be on corporate boards.’
Skunk leaned back before taking his mask off. ‘Things are looking up. But we can’t rest on our laurels just yet. All for One is still out there.’
No matter where he was hiding, the Saints would find him!
111 &&& 111
Author's Note: This is it! The Penultimate chapter. Just one more to go. An epilogue to finish things off. Hope you all enjoyed reading!
