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Quirky Row Chapter 40: New Year, Same Old Stuff
🕑 Added 2025-04-20 16:00:06 +0000 UTCChapter 40: New Year, Same Old Stuff
(Wednesday, January 5th, 2124)
“The Ronin,” Playa said, hands on his desk as he looked over his lieutenants. “The final obstacle before the Saints run the city. What do we know about them?”
“They are the largest and richest gang, and have ties to the Yakuza back in Japan,” Johnny said, speaking up from his spot on the couch in Playa’s office. As the lieutenant in charge of investigating the Ronin and their activities, it was his time to shine. “The Ronin primarily do white collar crime, but also run a lot of internet porn, extortion, smuggling, and selling protection to businesses within the northern half of Stilwater, which is considered by most to be ‘their territory.’ They’ve also begun to move into gun running and human trafficking to take over where the Brotherhood was left off.”
Johnny pointed to a map of Stilwater on the wall. “In terms of territory, the Ronin have about as much as we do, possibly more if we include the east that’s under control of Ultor as having ties to them.”
“How tight are they?” Playa asked. “Will Ultor step in to aid the Ronin if we attack?”
“Probably,” Johnny nodded. “If only because if the Ronin collapse a lot of Ultor’s shady deals might come to light.”
“How shady are we talkin’ here?” Shaundi asked.
“From what I’ve gathered, Ultor basically managed to pull off Alderman Hughes’ real estate development scheme entirely due to having the Ronin do their dirty work,” Johnny revealed, and everyone scowled at that.
Alderman Richard Hughes had had a plan to turn Saint’s Row and the rest of Stilwater into something that wasn’t a piece of shit. Playa and many others in the city had agreed, in principal, that that was a good thing, but the man had gone about it in a way that was as far from ‘good’ as possible.
Forcing people out of their homes and businesses by using the banks to foreclose on them, using the heroes as sanctioned wrecking balls to destroy parts of the city he wanted rebuild, and taking bribes from the construction companies to hand out the best deals and contracts.
Furthermore, the Alderman had been running for Mayor on a platform based around eliminating poverty. Again, not a terrible thing, but Hughes’ campaigns focused on incorporating hostile architecture into the restored sections of the city to drive out homeless people, reducing the number of people on food stamps and welfare by slashing the budget for them, and paying for his ‘vision of the future’ through increasing taxes. His plan would have resulted in Stilwater turning into an even worse hellhole for the regular people of the city who lived there.
Hearing that Ultor had picked up the pieces of that asshole’s dream and actually gone through with it boiled Playa’s blood, and he vowed to find a way to hurt the corporation once he’d finished with the Ronin.
‘Focus on the problem at hand for now,’ Playa told himself, taking a deep breath to calm down before looking back to Johnny. “What about their leaders?”
“Shogo Akuji, twenty-five, son of Kazuo Akuji, the head of the Akuji Yakuza Clan and leader of the Ronin,” Johnny said, showing everyone a picture of the villain. “Villain name is ‘Storm Dragon.’ Nobody really uses it unless they’re trying to be brown nosers. His Quirk is a minor one, creating small electrical discharges accompanied by the sound of thunder. Not very strong, mainly relies of his modified katana to channel his Quirk into something useful. And speaking of katanas…”
He pulled up a new picture, this time of a bald man a few years older than Shogo. “Jyunichi, no known last name. Villain name ‘Katana.’ He is Shogo’s loyal right-hand man, and the only person with a higher hero body count than you or me, boss. Assumed to be Quirkless, but his sword fighting skills are significant. He also had a special mono-blade katana forged by Artificer himself that can supposedly cut through anything. And yes, that includes Quirk reinforced things.”
“Damn, that will make things tricky,” Pierce muttered.
“Thankfully, most of the Ronin aren’t nearly as good at combat as they like to pretend. They swagger around, drive motorcycles, and fight with swords and sub-machineguns to look cool. Most are weaklings, the majority of their power centers around a group called the ‘Ninja.’ These are the elite forces of the Ronin as well as the top-ranked lieutenants, and prefer quiet assassination over street-brawl style confrontations.”
“So, the Ronin are likely to go after us directly, then? Murder us in our sleep and leave the Saints leaderless?” Carlos guessed.
“Most likely,” Johnny nodded. “We’ve taken steps to hide any information about our members’ public identities and locations, but everyone is getting emergency GPS units to use if you get attacked. They’ll send out your location to us, and the Saints will come rushing.”
“Smart,” Shaundi hummed. “So… what next? How do we deal with them?”
“We target their moneymakers,” Johnny declared. “To that end, our first target is here. A server farm at the Stilwater Science Center over in Humbolt Park. It’s where the gang mines crypto-currency and stores the data for the Ronin affiliated porn websites and some other sensitive data. We take it down, they lose a hefty chunk of their online money and businesses.”
“Hmm. Interesting,” Playa mused. “Good choice. How many guards?”
“It has a dozen Ronin standing guard around it at all times, and a single Ninja who oversees the whole thing,” Johnny revealed.
“Can we take control of their servers and steal their money that way?” Carlos asked. Everyone turned to Twenty-One, who nodded slowly.
“If I had a direct link to them, I could hack ‘em from here and take control of their network. So, yes, I could take their golden goose for ourselves.”
“Excellent idea, Carlos,” Playa praised, causing the young man to blush. “Twenty-One, make a plan to seize control of the Ronin’s digital finances. Copy all of their data, then destroy the Ronin’s servers.”
“I have a bomb that will do the trick nicely,” Johnny said.
“How are we going to sneak in?” Pierce asked, and Jean-Paul raised a hand.
“There’s a guy with a Quirk that could fit. He cannot be perceived by cameras, digital or otherwise,” the Saints’ trainer informed them.
“Oof, damn, that must suck,” Shaundi said, and everyone winced in sympathy. If he couldn’t have his picture taken, then he would have a terrible time getting any sort of official ID, like a driver’s license.
Still, his misery was the Saints’ victory. Jean-Paul vowed to have the man trained as an infiltrator and get him ready for his mission with Twenty-One and Johnny to steal the other gang’s server data and the sabotage it.
“So, what else can we do to put the hurt on the Ronin?” Mink inquired.
“They have an illegal casino,” Johnny suggested. “If we hit it, it would make a great distraction for the attack on the Ronin’s computer stuff.”
“Hmm, a casino? Yeah, that could work,” Playa mused. “Alright, I will lead the attack on it. All eyes will be on me, so you, Twenty-One, and the other guy can sneak in.”
Johnny flashed a thumbs up at his buddy, who nodded back. Everyone else agreed with that idea. Now, it was time to discuss the madness and evil that was working on the gang’s budget for the coming year.
(Saturday, January 8th, 2124)
“This is the place, huh?” Skunk asked as he adjusted his gasmask over his face.
Poseidon’s Palace was the name of the Ronin owned and operated casino in the Stilwater Boardwalk. It didn’t look all that impressive from the outside. It was big, he supposed, with plain white walls, but it looked more like a bingo parlor than a casino. The fanciest parts were the two marble columns out front. Oh, and the hotel high rise complex connected to it, but that didn’t count, in Skunk’s opinion.
“That’s the place,” Johnny confirmed. He’d decided to come with Playa since the mission to infiltrate the server farm was supposed to be a stealth run with the only destruction planned to happen afterwards. He wanted action, and what better way to start the new year than with busting in through the front door a casino guns blazing?
A handful of other elite Saints were joining them today, and when the signal was given they all poured out of the cars that were parked nearby.
“For the Saints’ y’all!” one of the men shouted, firing his handgun into the air, which naturally caused everyone within earshot to scream and take cover. The security guards out front immediately saw them coming after that, and to Skunk’s pleasant surprise, threw down their weapons and ran for it instead of trying to fight.
The interior was much more impressive, with a nice blue carpet and a water fountain right in the entrance. Poseidon’s Palace was two floors of slot machines, card tables, and, in the VIP rooms, more ‘exotic’ types of gambling.
“This is a robbery!” Skunk announced as he stormed into the building. To emphasize his point, Johnny fired an AK-47 into the air. People screamed some more and cowered behind their seats. “Nobody will get hurt so long as you follow everything we tell you to!”
“Imcoming!” one of the Saints called out in warning, and Skunk jumped to the side to avoid a fist that had been sent rocketing towards him. The person who did that was a Ronin with stretchy, rubber-like limbs, and he glared at the Saint.
A moment later, several men wearing gaudy yellow jackets appeared from other parts of the building, converging on the intruders. They had guns ready to fire, but weren’t prepared for the pepper bombs that exploded in their faces courtesy of Skunk. Not expecting that, they collapsed, crying in pain. Not even rubber guy was able to resist. Within minutes the fifteen Ronin guarding the place had been rounded up, divested of weapons, and had their hands and feet tied up.
“So, that’s where the money is, huh?” Skunk mused, walking over to the door that led to the room where the casino’s daily take was stored. Up to a month’s worth of cash could be stored within at a time before being taken away for laundering.
Since it was after the holidays, the casino had a lot more money tucked away than normal. All those people happily gambling away their Christmas gift money meant there was plenty of stuff to steal.
“Get the door open,” Skunk ordered.
“On it,” Johnny said, walking over to the door and fiddling with it. As he did that, the crunch of glass and plastic near the stairs alerted Skunk to the presence of a newcomer.
He was dressed in Ronin yellow, but had a pair of sharp triangular cool guy glasses that Skunk knew was only wore by the lieutenants of the Asian themed gang.
“Halt! I am one of Shogo’s Ninjas!” the man announced pompously, a katana in one hand, a submachinegun in the other. “My name is Kage, and I-!”
Skunk ignored him and tossed a flashbang into the air, looking away as it went off right in the showboating villain’s face.
Kage cried out in pain as he was blinded, then was silenced with a shot to the heart from Skunk’s revolver.
“Kage’s dead,” Skunk reported blandly. From the intel they’d gathered beforehand, he had been the Ninja assigned to guard the casino, and had had a really annoying Shadow Manipulation Quirk. In the dim, gloomy lighting of a casino, that sort of power would have been a problem. But with a flashbang to clear out the shadows and blind him, he was much less of a threat.
“Good, almost done… alright, back up!” Johnny shouted as he ran away from the door.
“I thought we has the password for the lock,” Skunk asked curiously as he ducked behind a card table with his crazy lieutenant.
“Yeah, but this is more fun,” Johnny grinned, pressing the detonator and blowing the door off its hinges.
“Fair enough,” Skunk shrugged, before waving the rest of the Saints forward. They entered the back room, and found it filled to the brim with bundles of dollar bills.
“Grab everything, boys!” Johnny ordered, and duffle bags, suitcases, and pockets were stuffed full of cold, hard cash.
It was all brought outside, where several vans as well as a Mule truck that the Saints had brought with them were waiting. Loading it up, Skunk and Johnny got into their car and prepared to drive off and lay low for a bit.
“That was a rush!” Johnny laughed. “That musta been a fourth of the Ronin’s total liquid assets, gone in a single heist!”
“Sure seemed like it,” Skunk said, laughing along with Johnny. His eyes then narrowed when red and blue lights began flashing down the road accompanied by the ear-piercing siren of police vehicles.
“Pigs have come out to play,” Johnny noted as he raised a shotgun, pumping it ominously.
“Flying pigs, too,” Skunk said when he spotted a hero amongst the cops that were coming towards them. That gaudy costume could belong to nobody else, but he didn’t recognize them, so they clearly weren’t all that important. He then called out to the other Saints, “Scatter! Don’t let them catch you!”
The Mule peeled away, escorted by a couple of Saints back to a warehouse to lay low, while the rest of the team broke apart and began to drive away in different directions to help break apart the police who were pursuing them.
“You drive, I’ll shoot,” Johnny urged, and Skunk nodded as he put pedal to the metal, shooting off with a screech of tires down the street.
“Pull over!” the hero shouted at them as he drove up beside the car, catching up on his heavily modified motorcycle, but Johnny just rolled the window down and shot him in the face with a beanbag round.
The hero toppled from his bike and went sprawling, crashing into a lamp post with a sickening crunch of metal and broken bones. Johnny just laughed, and began to fire paintball rounds at the cops, covering their windshields with sticky paint.
“Where should we go?” Skunk asked once the police were forced to eat his dust, unable to keep chasing.
“Let’s ditch the car and then book it to Eesh’s place. We can lie low there and plan on what to do with the money,” Johnny suggested.
“Think she’ll mind?” Skunk asked, and Johnny shrugged.
“She’ll be fine!”
The sun was setting by the time they managed to get rid of the car, find a new ride in one of Johnny’s many secretly owned garages, and head back to Johnny and Aisha’s love nest with Pierce in tow, who informed them that the rest of the cash had arrived safely.
And, as it turned out, Aisha was not alright with having several million dollars’ worth of stolen cash in her living room.
“Why is there a big pile of money on my coffee table?” Aisha demanded, giving her husband the stink eye.
“It’s a little complicated,” Pierce tried to say, only to be interrupted.
“We shot up a Ronin casino and stole it,” Johnny informed her.
“And you brought that here? And not, say, your Goddamn base?” Aisha uttered incredulously.
“It, uh, seemed like a good idea at the time?” Playa said weakly. She rolled her eyes, then got out her phone as a text notification went off.
“It’s Maya,” Aisha informed them. “She’s pissed, and wants you goons to check out Channel Six.”
Curious, Johnny turned on the TV, revealing the popular newswoman on the scene outside of Poseidon’s Palace.
“…the daring casino heist has left the police baffled. While it is known that the Saints attacked the casino in broad daylight, Stilwater Law Enforcement does not know why this happened, as the Third Street Saints have never attacked non-gang related businesses. However, Poseidon’s Palace, located just off the Marina, was not affiliated with any known gangs,” the reporter said, before walking over to a man who Playa recognized.
“Standing with me is Chief of Police Bradshaw. Sir, can you tell us anything about the investigations?”
“Damn, he got old,” Playa muttered, looking at his former companion with a knot of anger in his gut. “Bastard looks like he’s aged twenty years! Look at all that grey hair!”
“Yeah, being snitch and promoted to chief of the pigs didn’t do him any favors in that regard,” Johnny scoffed.
“As you said, this is an investigation, Miss Valderamma, so I can’t go into details,” Troy Bradshaw, traitor of the Saints, replied.
“Can you say anything about the Third Street Saint’s involvement?”
“I cannot confirm or deny anything other than the fact that Johnny Gat and Skunk, two men who are to be considered armed and dangerous, were involved,” Bradshaw retorted. “The security cameras were disabled shortly after the Saints attacked the building.”
“There are reports that Ultor is pressing the police department to, and I quote, ‘Get better results if they don’t want to find themselves buried under a mountain of litigation,’ end quote,” Valderamma stated.
“One of Ultor’s investments was robbed. Of course they want their money back,” Bradshaw replied, causing a stir amongst the Saints who were watching.
“Hang on, that place wasn’t run by the Ronin?!” Pierce exclaimed, and Playa’s eyes narrowed.
“Johnny, did you know that Ultor was involved in the casino?” he demanded, and the gunslinger shook his head.
“It was a Ronin front! Whole operation belonged to them!” Johnny protested.
“So this is how the Ronin are gonna fight back, huh? Use Hughes’ methods against us,” Playa growled as he realized what was going on. “They’re gonna try and defame us in the media, make us look like the villains!”
“We are villains,” Pierce reminded him.
“You know what I mean!” Playa griped. “Call Twenty-One! Find out if she’s finished stealing all of the Ronin’s data! I want every scrap of information on their business dealings with Ultor! And tell her to hold off on blowing the place up. I want eyes on the Ronin’s operations, and doing it from inside their own network will be a better use of resources than bombing them.”
He then glanced back at the pile of cash. “Oh, and have the money laundered, too.”
“On it, boss!” Piece and Johnny said in unison, and Playa nodded, pleased.
111 &&&&& 111
Walking into his boss’s chambers, Jyunichi wondered what Shogo’s response would be to this latest attack? The Saints had decided to start off big, and gone straight for the Ronin’s throat by targeting the casino. It was a disaster, and not just because Kage was dead, but due to the fact the top enforcer for the gang couldn’t help but feel there was something else behind the attack.
So far nothing else had happened, but the sense of waiting for the other shoe to drop did not suit him, so when Jyunichi stepped inside the lavishly appointed penthouse suite, he frowned slightly as he saw Shogo relaxing, getting a massage from an admittedly beautiful woman.
“[Shogo-Sama, the Saints have struck Poseidon’s Palace and made off with all of the money,]” Jyunichi informed him, only feeling a slight amount of guilt at breaking the bad news to him.
“Ugh, Jyunichi, really? Now?” Shogo groaned, looking up from the massage table.
“[If your father finds out about this incident, he may decide that it is time for him to take over,]” Jyunichi warned.
“My father won’t find out about the casino,” Shogo retorted.
“[But, if he does, I believe it would be best to retaliate now, to show that you have things under control,]” Jyunichi suggested.
“Do not talk back to me, Jyun!” Shogo spat. “And we’re in America, not Japan! Speak English!”
“Forgive me, Shogo,” Jyunichi said, deciding it was best to no longer play around. Shogo nodded, pleased.
A noise outside the door caused Jyunichi to tense and draw a sword, only for Shogo to scoff.
“Jumpy today, aren’t we?” Shogo mocked, before opening the sliding door to reveal a man wheeling in a cart with a bottle of chilled wine.
Once it was delivered, Shogo fished out a cigarette as he got up from the massage table. He then walked over to the wine, and took it. Then, he turned to Jyunichi. “Sword.”
The bald man handed it over, and Shogo preceded to use it as a bottle opener. Champagne suds sprayed everywhere, especially the scantily clad masseuse, who shrieked and giggled as the foam hit her.
“Listen, Jyunichi, I get it, okay? You’re having a hard time adjusting. Sure, it’s been five years, but America is a different beast compared to Japan. More opportunities, for one. Less restrictions and rules, as well. And there’s the fact you want to impress dear old dad as much as I do. But let me give you some advice. Pops is an old relic of the past. He can’t get with the times, and hasn’t realized that the future of crime is Quirk-based. We have to play the game of heroes and villains because, right now, that is what society demands of us. We can’t act like it’s still the old days. And by playing by these new rules, I’ve raised the Clan to heights it never would have achieved under my father.”
Shogo drank from the bottle directly, before shaking his head and sitting down in a chair next to the massage table. “So, why don’t you let me deal with our father, and you continue to do whatever the fuck I tell you to do. It’s worked out so far, hasn’t it?”
He then gestured for the woman to join him on his lap, and she tittered before obeying.
Jyunichi sighed, but nodded before leaving the room. He heard a feminine gasp, followed a giggle, and he picked up the pace, not wanting to be around while his younger brother slept with another call girl.
‘Akuji-Sama will not be pleased to hear about this latest setback,’ Jyunichi mused to himself as he got into the elevator, descending to his own room in the apartment complex.
Shogo was not just Jyunichi’s boss, but also his younger brother. Jyunichi was an illegitimate child, though, meaning he would never be able to ascend any higher than his current position.
More than any of that, though, Jyunichi was also Shogo’s minder. He reported everything that happened to the head of the Akuji Clan, their father, who was content to just let Shogo, the legitimate son and heir, do as he pleased.
The Ronin had initially been just a pet project of the rebellious Yakuza child, who chafed under the strictness of Japanese society. Even with the advent of Quirks, the culture was restrictive, especially for someone like Shogo, who preferred to live by his own rules. Thus, Akuji-Sama had allowed this to happen.
To everyone’s surprise, including Jyunichi’s, his little brother had turned out to have quite a talent for crime, or at least the violent and barbaric type favored in the west. In five years Shogo had turned the Ronin into a force that was far more prosperous and powerful than anything the Akuji Clan had ever known, even in the Yakuza’s heyday.
Backroom deals with Ultor and street violence to build his villainous reputation had led to rapid growth, and cleverly cornering the market for soft crime, like fraud, pornography, and the like, resulted in the Ronin being the most powerful of the Big Three, as well as obscenely wealthy.
‘Unfortunately, the success seems to have gone to his head,’ Jyunichi mused.
Shogo and the Ronin had gone unchallenged for half a decade, and even during the early years of the infamous Stilwater Olympics, as the massive city-wide gang war to establish dominance had been known, he had never struggled against truly equal opponents. As such, he dismissed the Saints as a sideshow, people who would fall in line and be content with what they’d carved out for themselves.
Jyunichi, though, saw the Saints for what they were. They were not a tiger or dragon, like his brother like to think himself. The Saints weren’t animals at all that could be pacified or bribed with treats. They were cleansing fire, and they would only stop fighting when the sins of the city were consumed and burnt away, or they themselves were all dead. There was no other option.
And so, once he was in the security of his own apartment, the right-hand man of Shogo fished a satellite phone out of his closet and quietly sent a coded message to Akuji-Sama, informing him of the recent heist and failure of the Ronin.
