"Am I late?"
Ryuk's voice resounded as he appeared on top of the skyscraper where MadWhite sat down on his reclining chair, dressed in a gentlemanly white suit.
His normally flowing white hair was well-gelled and arranged properly—like a gentleman.
And truly, right now, he looked just like a gentleman.
MadWhite slowly turned to Ryuk, a smile appearing at the side of his lips as he shook his head.
"You're just in time..."
"You're dressed pretty well. That's rare..." Ryuk commented, looking at MadWhite, who was even donning an expensive-looking watch along with his shiny boots.
MadWhite rose to his feet, grinning wildly.
"It's an important meeting, after all. Here..."
A nylon pack appeared before Ryuk, and he caught it, the nylon disappearing with a little release of energy, revealing a dark suit and trousers.
It was an official suit, just like MadWhite's, except instead of white, it was dark—a colour that Ryuk didn't particularly find fancy.
"Why dark?!"
"Because you're in the secondary role..." MadWhite said, a few more objects appearing in the air.
Ryuk grabbed them all.
Some were white finger rings, except much larger, like five rings bound together. There was also an equally dark hat and a pair of glasses that were just as dark.
"The secondary role?" Ryuk asked as MadWhite cajoled him into a dressing space, locking the door before reclining onto it.
"Yes, Ryuk. You're in the secondary role..." MadWhite replied again as Ryuk slowly took off his shirt while rolling his eyes.
"Stop fucking with me, MadWhite. What's the secondary role?"
"Let's just say we're both going on a heist. I am the gentlemanly thief with the briefcase, and you are the gun."
"So... you're the grab and I'm the smash?!" Ryuk asked, and MadWhite chuckled.
"Seems like your upstairs is pretty good. And while 'grab and smash' seems like a pretty brutish way to put it, I won't say it's far from the truth."
"In short, I will do the talking, the convincing, and all of that headache. I know those old bastards very well, so I can best play their game."
"But as you can guess, simply talking to them won't do, so I need a person that can stand behind me and add a little bit of an exclamation mark to every one of my words."
"So you need a person to place the bullet in their heads while you try to convince them, and I'm supposed to be that guy. You know the hat is a round hat, right? It won't do a very good job of covering my face if I'm close by," Ryuk said as he wore the hat on his head.
But it didn't do much in covering his face unless he lowered it.
"Oh, fuck the hat. We're not hiding, Ryuk. It's just to add a little bit of menace to that girly face of yours."
"Do I not look menacing enough with my face alone?" Ryuk asked as MadWhite scoffed.
"You're anything but menacing. One look into your eyes, and one can tell you're still a naive little kid."
"If anything, I'd say you look more like a playboy instead—the kind that makes the old ladies wonder if they earn enough pension to get their hands on a new toy. Hehehe."
MadWhite teased as Ryuk's eyebrows twitched in the mirror before him.
A bit of gel on his hair, and he got himself quite the look.
A bit of messing around with his Nanobots, and Ryuk watched as his body shifted from the lean, muscular type to a much larger frame.
His dark suit only further accentuated those hard, muscular features.
Not too bulky, but anything but thin either.
He looked at himself in the mirror one more time, eyeing his face, which seemed to have gotten even more handsome—even to him.
After a bit of winking his eyes at the mirror, he eventually lowered his hat over his head before exiting the door.
"How do I look?" Ryuk asked, looking at MadWhite, who stared at him for a while before grinning.
"What's with the bulking body?" he asked.
"Well, do you prefer the 'girly' one?" Ryuk replied as MadWhite shrugged.
"No. This is perfect. Just don't exhaust all of your strength trying to keep that form up..." MadWhite said as Ryuk shrugged his shoulders.
He wasn't exhausting any strength—just a little bit of Nanobot shifting.
"Here..."
MadWhite moved to the sofa, and Ryuk finally saw the pitch-dark bag that MadWhite slowly unzipped.
VROOOOOOM
Immediately, as the bag opened up, deep waves of crimson-dark energy emanated from the opened zip and slowly rose as Ryuk looked at the object peeking out of the bag.
It was twin pistols, crafted from an obsidian-like metal, with veins of pulsating crimson energy running through their sleek frames.
The barrels were adorned with intricate carvings of howling spirits, releasing the illusion of deep, guttural whispers.
And in Ryuk's eyes, he seemed to see dead spirits stretching their hideous red hands covered in blood towards him, causing him to unconsciously back off two steps.
MadWhite's hand slowly stretched forth as he picked up the pistols, spinning them in his hands for a while before settling.
Silently, he dipped them into his gun coat, which was once again covered up by the suit.
But then, it didn't seem like he was done.
Ryuk watched as he dipped his hand into his pockets and brought out gloves, which he wore on his hands.
Then, he slowly dipped his hands into the bag and brought them out, turning to Ryuk with an utmost serious expression on his face.
"Behold... The Abyssal Howlers!" MadWhite declared as Ryuk stretched out his hands, fingers hesitating for a moment before finally grasping the twin pistols.
The moment he touched them, a chill surged up his arms, like ice-cold tendrils curling around his bones.
A deep, guttural hum rumbled through the weapons—so faint it was almost a whisper, yet heavy enough to settle deep in his chest.
The Abyssal Howlers.
Sleek yet jagged, their barrels appeared as if chiselled from blackened obsidian, fused with pulsing veins of shadowy energy that slithered across the surface like living veins of molten blood.
The steel was unnaturally cold—not just the absence of warmth, but a chilling presence, as if the weapons had been carved from the void itself.
The runes engraved along their frames shimmered with an eerie, silver glow, reacting to his touch.
Faint, distorted whispers slithered through his ears, barely distinguishable—fragments of voices, twisted and broken, pleading, laughing, screaming.
The muzzles bore fang-like protrusions, their edges serrated like the jaws of a beast forever frozen mid-snarl.
The grips were wrapped in abyssal leather, shifting slightly under his fingers, as though the weapons were adjusting—molding themselves to his grasp.
A pulse ran through them, syncing with his heartbeat, and for a brief moment, Ryuk wasn't sure whether he was holding the guns or if they were holding him.
"These... These are mine?"