Chapter Text
Blue eyes reflected in the mirror, taking in the rest of my body, the only familiar feature between what I went to sleep with and how I woke up. The rest of my face was… leaner and definitely more square. Hair was rusty, darker shade of red instead of black, and straight instead of inclining towards curling. I swiped a calloused hand over my jaw, feeling the stubble growing. Alright, so that feeling was familiar too, admittedly. In my previous life, I had to start shaving fairly early. Granted, I actually preferred a bit of facial hair over the clean shave my new set of memories indicated has been almost religiously cultivated, but… eh. We will see how red looks on the face compared to black.
The skin, however, was too tan, the arms too muscular, the frame too broad. This was the body of a guy who worked out. Healthy and strong guy, one who could make a living as a professional athlete, even. Completely unlike my old one. Hopefully, the pure habit ingrained into the body alongside the feeling of the vitality brimming within the frame would rub off on my admittedly lazier mind.
It was also the body of a petty, racist cunt.
Seriously, Cardin Winchester? I thought to myself rebelliously as I stepped back from the mirror to get a better look at the body I woke up in. It could’ve been worse, I supposed, while going through the morning exercise on an auto pilot. True, I was signed up for a career of monster hunting, with the school year for a prestigious Huntsman Academy beginning in barely two weeks, too soon to claim a change of mind and look somewhere else. But at least I had a stable financial situation. Better than stable. Winchesters weren’t, like, rich rich, comfortably on the better end of middle-class, and thus, Cardin could afford to gear himself up. As long as I didn’t decide to start buying high quality Dust by the bagfuls, I could supply myself on my allowance alone. Also, I already had my Aura unlocked for quite some time, enough to get a decent grip on its functions, so there was that. No Semblance just yet, though. Not the worst thing in the world, to be honest. I wasn’t even sure if I would’ve inherited Cardin’s original Semblance if the guy had unlocked his, so honestly, no preconceptions was a good thing.
The question of what I’d do with all that training, I carefully filed in the darker recesses of my mind. Cardin Winchester was insignificant in the grand scheme of things. And besides, I needed to see how much things changed between what was shown on screen and how the real life was before making any plans to change things. And that’s assuming I was in the canon timeline. I wrote a bit in my previous life, I knew how this shit worked.
Stretches done, I moved to grab Executioner from where the mace was resting. The bitch was heavy, I found out, grunting in surprise. Credit where credit was due, Cardin had done his homework regarding blunt weapons. More than that - he purposely commissioned that monster of a mace to be as heavy as possible. Not unreasonably, no. A normal, unaugmented athlete or a soldier could possibly use it with both hands. But that was it. Both hands. And I would be restricted to very simple, conservative moves with it. Not flailing it single-handedly like Cardin would repeatedly demonstrate predilection for. Titanium flanges didn’t come cheap either.
So why did I not use my Aura? Simple. Ever since Cardin got Executioner, he used the mace in lieu of dumbbells, incorporating lifting his weapon into his training regimen. The temptation to cheat was oh so sweet as my muscles slowly protested the exertion and sweet glistened on my skin.
I have barely stopped myself. Not just because I knew that I need every ounce of strength for what was coming within a year, but also because I knew myself. Once I’ve slipped, I would not be able to resist the temptation again and again.
No, in this one, I would trust Cardin.
Half an hour later, I stood under the shower, letting the hot water relax my muscles as I went through the motions to get ready for the rest of the day. Honestly, I needed to get better than what Cardin was capable of in canon, but… well, Cardin’s family wasn't exactly connected to the professional Huntsmen like Ruby and Yang to guide their developments, couldn’t drop a small fortune on private tutors that would ensure a level of skill and proficiency like Weiss. Vale didn’t have the tradition of gladiatorial combat like Mistral to have someone sport the seeds of talent and offer a chance and professional guidance like I was certain Pyrrha had to have.
No, just how the old, now practically disbanded, Valish military trained its recruits, plus a run-of-the-mill combat school which would drill the basics in. Serviceable beginner’s training, admittedly, but I knew where that path led, even if I remained more motivated than Cardin has been. Mediocrity at best.
Mediocre didn’t help survive catastrophes.
Still, my new body was trained in a specific way, for a specific style of fighting, same with the Aura focus. To get close and personal and start swinging. I was woefully lacking in ranged options, which could technically be alleviated by a partner but the thought of being helpless on my own galled. Getting Executioner remade into a mechashift weapon was out of the question. Mechashiftt weapons tended to be prohibitively expensive (how Nora afforded hers, I would never know) and required long, complex maintenance to ensure they remained in top shape.
I snorted, expelling some of the water from my nose as I shut the shower and stepped out to dry myself. Not mechashift, then. Which meant either buy and learn a second, separate weapon, or learn Dust Casting. The latter was more expensive, true, but I already had something of a basis. The Executioner already had a slot for a dust crystal in its head, at the base of flanges, currently occupied by a medium sized, average quality crystal of Fire Dust. I could, in theory, use my weapon like a staff to help with elemental sorcery. Just needed to find a teacher, which was probably best left for Beacon. Either Goodwich or, if I was lucky, Weiss could be a tutor.
I supposed I could wait a little longer before finding a solution for that problem. My timetable wasn’t that tight.
Which left one last problem with Cardin’s training. His, mine, situational awareness in the heat of things was pants. In any situation that was more crowded than one on one, he had predilection towards tunnel vision. Often to the detriment of his allies, I knew, but it was also an absurd weakness to have when a lot of your job description involved fighting Grimm.
Y’know. An endless swarm of hate monsters that always outnumbered you.
So, I needed to find a group of people willing to gang up on me and fight me without just going to groups of faunus and slinging slurs until they decided to teach me a lesson. Fortunately, I knew of just the kind that might agree - as long as money was involved. Just needed to find and persuade them.
I left the house after a quick breakfast, throwing a loud ‘going out’ for the sake of Cardin’s family. I preferred not to think too hard on the fact that overnight, Winchesters lost a son and brother. They were, all things considered, a normal family. Just… y’know. Not exactly fans of faunus (...faunuses? Blast, it will keep me wondering ). At least Winchesters the seniors. Cardin’s younger brother was on the quiet side, according to my memories, at least around the previous occupant of my body.
As it turned out, Junior’s club was a legitimate business, one I could find just by using my scroll’s CCTV search. It was at the edge of the industrial district, close to both the central Vale and harbor district, which made sense given his other businesses. Looking it up, it was a decently popular place, profitable enough to be plausible cover for his funds and manpower.
So, Executioner hooked to the harness on my back to provide a little bit of additional exercise, I caught a bus going from Winchesters’ place in Western Vale going to the centre of the city state. Technically, Cardin had a driving license and a pretty comfortable nest saved up - memories indicated he was undecided between splurging on a car of his own or just throwing a big celebratory party for getting accepted into Beacon. Poor bastard had no idea initiation was a thing. On the other hand, even he and his team managed to pass it, so what did I really know?
Still, the creatively named ‘ Junior’s ’ wouldn’t be open until late afternoon at best. I left the house for a simple reason. I had no idea how to interact with Cardin’s… my now, I guess, family. I had all of Cardin’s memories so technically I could play the role without outing myself as some extremely late changeling. On the other hand, I was still me. I might have had all the memories and the skills but I thought differently. Felt differently. Nerves could only explain so much. So, it was better if I minimised contact with the Winchesters. In two weeks, I would be in a boarding school anyway.
In the meantime, I simply immersed myself in the city. Retreaded the paths familiar to Cardin and then simply wandered around in the unfamiliar ones. Got a taste for local cuisine. And then, once the sun started dipping below the horizon, I made my way towards the industrial district.
The aptly named ‘Junior’s ’ was a relatively short and stocky building made of black painted bricks with arched, stained windows which reduced the light show from the dance floor to the moving play of colourful circles on them. The white sliding entrance door was flanked by a pair of henchmen in Xiong family’s customary black suits, red ties and sunglasses and black bowler hats. The two gave the incoming club-goers quick glance overs to appraise them but didn’t seem to actively stop anyone. They also had axes openly hanging from their belts, a detail that no one commented on or paid much attention to.
Considering Junior wasn’t above lending his men out and they kept to the dress code then, that pretty much confirmed that the usual clientele was at least aware that it wasn’t just a normal club.
Climbing the stairs, I noticed the entrance was also basked in a soft, red glow of the neon sign above the doors which held the club’s name. Black, red and white. I wondered for a moment if picking the colours of the Grimm had any significance or if it was just (unlucky?) coincidence. The two henchmen acting as bouncers gave me a look, lingering on the Executioner, but didnt stop me from going in.
Wonder if it was ‘he is just one guy’ thing or a general Remnant thing.
Thankfully, the inside of the club, dark and epilepsy inducing as it was, wasn’t particularly crowded just yet. Oh, the dance floor was already busy, the music was blaring and more henchmen mulled about, doubling as the club staff. I made my way to the bar by going by the walls to avoid just muscling my way through the crowd (and possibly risking getting pickpocketed) before sitting down at the bar.
“Aren’t you a little young to drink?” Hei ‘Junior’ Xiong asked me, grey eyes taking me in. The man played the part of bartender quite well, the whole black-red-white ensemble suited him well, especially since instead of a tux, he had a sleeveless jacket which let him show off his muscular arms by just rolling the sleeves of his shirt. His tone was more conversational than accusing, and while he didn’t smile, he wasn’t frowning either.
“Probably.” I agreed cheerfully, giving the mob boss a small, thin smile in place of a full grin. Honestly, even leaning on Cardin’s arrogance was barely enough to let me play my confidence up. “So it’s a good thing I’m not here to get drunk.”
“Not much of a dancer either, from the looks of it.” Junior snorted. Throughout the short exchange, he didn’t stop polishing the mug in his hands. “So, kid, if you are not here to drink, which I wouldn’t sell you anyway,” I’d like to think we shared a moment of camaraderie at the shared acknowledgement that anyone who wanted to get drunk wouldn't be able to get alcohol from somewhere , “nor to dance, I am at a loss as to why you’d visit this place.”
I had no head for double speak and subterfuge, so I just laid my cards straight. “A little bit of digging in the right places told me I could hire a group of people for tasks of unusual variety here.” I doubted Junior would believe me if I told him just where I knew he had something of a rent-a-thug service from.
The mobster gave a low, long hum as he leaned back and affixed me with a look again. He put the glass down and folded his arms across his chest. “Depends on the job. I don’t lend my men just to anybody.”
I kept smiling as I gave him a shrug. “I’m gonna get into Beacon this year.” I informed him, earning myself a quirk of an eyebrow. “But I could use more training anyway to fudge things up. So, I thought to myself, ‘Cardin, why not pay someone to fight you on a regular?’.” I explained.
“Pfffft! Hahaha!” I waited patiently while Junior got his amusement under control and leaned forward on the bar. “So, let me get this straight, you want to pay me to get the stuffing beaten out of you?” I would take the sparkling of his eyes as a sign he was at the very least actually considering the idea.
“I would like to think I am not bad enough that it would be that one sided.” I replied with a wink. “But yeah, I am not looking to hire that many people to be my sparring partners, but I also don’t have any inns with any of the active Huntsmen so I had to get a bit creative for an extra edge.”
“ Mmmmmm… Gotta say, kid, pretty gutsy of you.” Junior admitted as he straightened up behind a bar. Good lord, but the man was actually taller than me. Almost seven feet. What was missus Xiong feeding her boy? A flash of color in the corner of my vision caught my attention, but before I could turn my head even slightly to get a better view, the crime boss grunted and gave me a mild glare, demanding my attention. “Two weeks with my people for someone of your income bracket… Aight, here’s how it goes, kid. You have two payment options. One, you pay half the price I name now and the rest in monthly instalments once you’re in Beacon.” My head spun a bit at the sum he gave me. I would be able to afford the upfront payment, sure, but the remainder… yeah, I would need to take on part-time jobs to pay those monthlies off. Or successfully complete a couple of missions at Beacon, but that was, if I remember correctly, not an option until the end side of the first year. I was sure Junior was quite aware of that fact and was perfectly willing to offer me opportunities to pay it off by alternative means which would only entangle me with his organisation tighter.
Classic entrapment by debt. Never let it be said Junior wasn’t a successful crime lord for no reason. Even if there was a chance I could pay it all off on my own.
“And the other option?” I asked, already suspecting a similar trick.
“Since you will, technically speaking,” the man began with an amused huff, “be paying my folks to get better fighters, I wouldn’t mind offering you a… discount of sorts.” He actually had the temerity to pause here. Seeing my dry look, he twisted his mouth into a half grin as he continued. “You pay only the upfront portion, slightly less even.” I raised an eyebrow. The sum was still prohibitively high, but it was juuust noticeably lower as to be tempting. “Then, at some point in the future, I might call in a favour owed. You agree to do as I ask, I consider us even.”
I considered the offer. The favour would obviously be called in for illegal shit. He would still entrapping me, but this time, as an accomplice instead of debtor. It was more dangerous too, because he could just sit on that favour while I became better and better Huntsman and my value, and thus the value of the favour, rose. Sure it had the risk of a fully fledged Huntsman deciding to free themselves of the debt by just… using their hard earned monster slaying skills to dismantle Junior’s operation but…
The type of a person who cut deals in favours with criminals for a little bit extra power wasn’t the type of person to pull a fast one on their erstwhile partners and turn them in. That kind of person was practically already a potential recruit.
I turned both offers in my head, not daring to check who flanked me. This was an evaluation. Just the fact I actually noticed them would have to suffice. Besides, I had a decent guess as to who it was.
Drumming my fingers against the counter, I nodded my head after a while. “Cold, hard cash it is.” I informed him. Junior actually gave me a respectful nod as he passed over the account info. One transaction later, I had a pair of slender arms wrap themselves around my neck from behind, the hands encased in clawed gauntlets. I activated my Aura but otherwise, sat completely still, letting the blades press against my chest.
“Boss, you found us a toy?” A sultry, amused voice drawled into my ear as Miltiades ‘Miltia’ Malachite slid her weapon across my torso. “ You shouldn’t have .” The girl purred. At the same time, her twin hopped onto the counter right next to me. Meeting my gaze with a bored look of her own, she slowly crossed her bare legs, her skirt rising with the motion enough to bare her thigh. I didn’t need to pretend to swallow at the sight, even as, with titanic effort, I flickered my gaze to her feet, to look at her bladed boots. She remained silent and raised an eyebrow, but otherwise merely flipped her hair in a display of nonchalance.
“ After your shift.” Hei Xiong grumbled dryly as he retreated to another section of the counter, abandoning me to the mercies of bored crime princesses.
I didn’t need to twist around to tell that Miltia’s grin was just as sharp and predatory as her sister’s.
This was going to be a long two weeks.