[LANGUAGE / VIOLENCE]
Spoiler:
In the distance, a loud humming sounded through the air.
Fox Fieldgoal approached on his trademark motorcycle, riding up on a wealthy manor.
Hopping off just as the bike crashed into the courtyard's fountain, Fox flipped in midair and decapitated the guards in front of the mansion with his newly acquired Z-Saber. "Out of the way, fuckfaces!" he yelled, their heads hitting the ground and blood spewing all over the walls. The bodies fell limp to the concrete as Fox kicked the mansion's doors open, knocking over the statues lining the casing. Fox entered the rather elegant home, spying a spiral staircase heading up to the second floor and fancy maroon rugs lining the floors. As Fox entered, the second floor door above burst open, tons of faceless mooks emerging and jumping over the railing, down to Fox's level. Withdrawing their own Z-Sabers, they rushed him. However, he rolled out of the way and hopped up behind them, slicing all of their bodies right through the center. Their torsos slid off their bottoms and bounced on the ground, rattling to a stop as fluids gushed from their still-standing abdomens. Fox kicked them down, causing them to collapse in a pile.
"What a joke!" Fox exclaimed, chuckling to himself as he sheathed his Z-Saber. He began to run up the nearby stairs, circling around the room until he reached the second floor. More foes busted through the windows lining the walls, cornering Fox at the edge of the staircase and getting a few hits in. He was knocked back a bit, falling down on the stairs and bumping his head against the handrails. Fox retaliated with a swift kick, knocking the goons off their feet. Standing up, he deftly stabbed their bodies one by one, causing them to rupture in a ridiculously violent manner, so violent that it could not be explained on this site. Getting back on track, Fox ran forward through the doorway and reached a chapel area.
Portraits of a young British man and his subservient dames were hung all across the room. He had a stupidly smug look on his face, caressing the backs of his loyal girls.
"What a douchebag!" Fox laughed to himself. He tossed his Z-Saber into the center of one of them, breaking the glass and digging right into the boy's face. The paper ripped, causing his arrogant visage to turn into a pathetically dopey frown. The blade eventually dropped down the wall, ripping the painting right in half before hitting the picture frame and dropping to the ground with a clatter. Fox picked it up and continued through the room, finding its exit at the eastern edge. He walked through the door, the sun peering through the new room's sunroof and nearly blinding him.
Suddenly, Fox's phone started ringing frantically. He reached into his pocket and pulled it out, flipping it open and holding it up to his ear.
"Hello? Fox? It's me, Renae." a muffled voice arose from the speakers. "This is your first real assassination, is it not?"
"Yeah, why does it matter? You implying I suck, or something?"
"Enough of that. You aren't hot shit yet. Get it through your thick, hair-gel coated skull. You're number eleven, and you're here to take out Retro."
"Retro...? What a retarded name."
"Some of his opponents call him the Holy Sniper. He's had quite a life, as you can see... Living, sheltered from the world, in a luxurious mansion. He's only got it that good, though... because his mother was an ugly bitch! Show him what you're made of! Eye of the tiger! Show no mercy!"
"...Fox, not tiger."
"...Have you relieved yourself? Stepped your beach? Still have that crick in your neck? Head through the door, Fox. Head... for the garden of madness."
"Gotcha."
Fox closed the phone, pocketing it and running his fingers through his hair. He stepped forward, arriving in a circular area. On one side of the wall lied a door to a bathroom. The other side held the exit to Retro's domain.
Fox opted to take a shit.
After finishing his duties, Fox kicked open the bathroom door and calmly exited, picking the shattered wood up and leaning it against the adjacent wall. He exited the room out of the right door, and entered Retro's residence.
Outside laid a large cobblestone patio, bordering a crystal-clear pool. On the opposite end of the pool, the same young man from the portraits laid in a lounge chair, sipping wine.
"Hello. I assume you must be Fox Fieldgoal," a voice quipped as Fox closed the door behind him. "Here to take my spot as number ten?"
"Now, why would you say that?" Fox grinned, thrusting his hands in his pockets. He walked forward slowly, approaching Retro bit by bit.
"I've been here so long, Fox. I... never really got to experience a normal life. Having things handed to me left and right by servants. Every material item I ever wanted was always right at my fingertips. Is this... really what you would call paradise? A boring, monotonous slog?"
"Boring and monotonous to you, wealthy and perfect to me. Two sides of the same coin."
"True, true... Maybe you could show me what paradise really is?"
"Uh, I'm sorry, but I'm strai-- OH. Okay. Okay, sorry. I get you."
Retro stood up, revealing that a large sniper rifle had been attached to his back the entire time. He unsheathed it, pointing the barrel right at Fox's face.
Fox readied his Z-Saber, staring intently at Retro.
"Let's find that exit to paradise, bro."
Right as the battle began, Retro fired off a slew of bullets. Fox expertly dodged them, deflecting a few back with his saber. They clattered against the ground, rolling to the side. Retro whipped at Fox with his rifle, but Fox quickly bared against it with his blade, pushing it back and into Retro's face. He fell backwards into the pool from the impact. He surfaced, quickly shaking water out of his hair. With malice in his eyes, he pointed his sights at Fox's face, which wore a snarky grin.
He fired a bullet swiftly, prompting Fox to duck. The bullet hit the wall and ricocheted off it, hitting the ground just like the others.
"You're quite persistent," Retro sighed. He attempted to climb out of the pool, but was knocked back in by a slash from Fox's saber, which had the additional benefit of impaling his face. Retro let out a gasp of pain as blood gushed from his torn cheek, and in the heat of the moment, he managed to knock Fox over with the barrel of his rifle. Fox fell to the ground as Retro finally managed to escape the pool, clutching his injury. Fox, still stunned, laid on the ground for a moment, unable to move. Retro pointed the gun at Fox's head and pulled the trigger.
A click sounded.
"...Fuck! Out of ammo!" Retro blurted out. Fox quickly hopped back up to his feet and before he knew it, Retro had been decapitated swiftly by Fox's weapon. Liquids spewed from his neck and his head flew into the air, landing in the nearby pool. Its water turned a dingy red, soaked with the embarrassment of defeat.
"I thought you were a douche anyway!" Fox laughed. He kicked Retro's still-standing corpse in the balls, causing it to fall backwards into the pool as well.
Suddenly, the door at the back creaked open. Out walked a tall brunette and two men in bodysuits, holding vacuums.
"Commendable job, Fox! You're now ranked tenth in the United Administrators' Association!" Renae exclaimed. "How does it feel, to move up?"
"Uh, okay, I guess?" Fox replied, casually wiping Retro's blood from his blade. Renae began to make a speech about the importance of victory and the pride of being an assassin.
Fox didn't really listen, instead opting to check out Retro's rifle.
"Anyhow... Your next target is a man who goes by the name of Koro. We'll be waiting for your entry fee, Fox," Renae said, giving a coy wink. The suited men walked over to the pool, retrieving Retro's body and vacuuming it up before leaving the area with Renae.
"...Entry fee?!"
