Six stepped into the room, the smell of smoke and whiskey hanging in the air, the faint hum of a jukebox playing in the background. Pacer, the King's second-in-command, shot him a glare as the door clicked shut behind him. The tension was thick, but Six wasn't here for pleasantries. He knew the deal.
"Yo."
Six greeted, his voice low and casual, trying to cut through the standoffish atmosphere.
Pacer didn't respond immediately, his eyes still narrowed at Six. But eventually, with a grunt, he stepped aside, gesturing for Six to follow him. The room they entered was dimly lit, the air thick with the scent of cheap cigars and sweat.
And there, lounging in a worn-out chair like he owned the place, was the King himself. His sunglasses hid most of his expression, but Six could tell the man had been thinking.
"Back already, huh?"
The King said, taking a lazy sip from his drink, not looking up immediately.
"That was quick. How'd the job go?"
Six pulled up a chair across from him, tapping the edge of the table to get the King's attention. He didn't like the way the King's eyes kept darting over to the side, distracted by some Elvis impersonator doing his thing on stage.
Six had seen dozens of these 'Kings' all over the Wasteland, and he couldn't understand the fascination. But he'd never ask the King about it; he had a feeling that would be a conversation better left untouched.
"Yeah, you've got a problem."
Six started, his voice low enough to ensure no one overheard.
"But it's not what you think. NCR didn't come here looking for a fight. They sent an ambassador, tried to make peace, but they almost got killed in return."
The King's eyes widened, the first real sign of surprise. If anyone had expected him to stay cool in the face of this, it would've been Six, but the news clearly hit hard.
The King's fingers twitched, and for a second, Six thought he might reach for his weapon. But instead, the King slowly leaned forward, clearly pissed off now.
"Say what?"
Whe King muttered, disbelief coloring his voice. He sat up straighter, and Six could tell the wheels were turning.
"You're telling me one of my guys attacked an NCR ambassador? Ain't no way."
"Not sure who did it."
Six replied, his gaze shifting around the room, ensuring no one was listening too closely.
"But this was no accident. Someone's pushing for a conflict, and I don't think it's coming from you. Whatever's going on, it's gonna get worse unless you figure out who's behind it."
The King scowled, looking frustrated as he took another sip of his drink, his fingers tapping on the table rhythmically. He was silent for a moment, then muttered.
"Shit, I didn't order this. None of my boys were supposed to do anything like that. This is… this is bigger than I thought."
Six nodded, his hand resting on his knee, waiting for the King to process the situation.
"You want peace? You need to get a handle on whoever's stirring the pot. I can run this message back to the NCR, let them know you're willing to talk, but you need to clean up your house first."
After a few moments of contemplation, the King rubbed his temples, frustration clear on his face.
"Alright. I'll handle this. Can't have my people messing everything up like this. I'll get back to the NCR and work this out, but damn it, I wish people would just follow orders."
Six stood up, the chair scraping against the floor as he reached for the door.
"I'll bring their reply back when you're ready. Keep an eye out for anyone trying to cause trouble in your ranks."
With that, he turned to leave, but not before he caught the King's final words.
"Better not be more of my boys causing shit."
The King muttered, more to himself than anyone else.
Six stepped out, the door closing softly behind him. As he made his way back through the Kings' headquarters, he couldn't shake the feeling that the situation was going to get even messier before it was over.
Returning back from cooling off, Six watched the King write the letter with deliberate care, knowing how much weight words could carry in these tense times. The King had a reputation, but now it seemed even his own people were testing his limits.
The fact that he was writing a letter, a clear sign of his desire to keep things clear and unambiguous, spoke volumes about the current situation.
As the King finished, he handed the letter over, his expression hardening.
"Take this to them. Let them know the Kings are still willing to work with the NCR, but there's gotta be some control over what happens in Freeside. My people are going rogue, and I can't let that shit slide. If we're gonna get peace, I need to know where my own men stand."
Six took the letter, sliding it into his jacket. He gave the King a firm nod.
"I'll make sure they get it. You handle your people. If someone's been stirring shit in your ranks, they'll have to answer for it soon enough."
The King leaned back in his chair, rubbing his forehead as if he had the weight of the world on him.
"I don't know who the hell thinks they can start a war with the NCR, but they're gonna find out they're messing with the wrong guy if they push this any further."
Six turned to leave but paused at the door.
"One last thing."
He said, his voice low.
"If you want this to work, you'll need to figure out who's pushing this agenda. The NCR's not going to sit back forever, and neither will I. People are getting caught in the middle of this mess, and I'm not going to watch more blood spill for nothing."
The King's eyes narrowed, a flash of understanding flickering across his face. He nodded once, sharply.
"I get it. Thanks for the heads-up, Six."
With that, Six stepped out of the room, the door closing softly behind him. He could feel the weight of the letter in his jacket pocket, a reminder that things were far from over.
If the Kings didn't get their act together, this could very easily spiral out of control—and Six wasn't sure how many more times he'd be able to walk that fine line between peace and all-out war.
Six slowed his pace, his Observation Haki kicking in. He didn't need to look back to know that someone was watching him. The feeling was too sharp, too deliberate. The whole situation with the Kings was becoming messier by the minute, and now, it seemed like someone—maybe even one of the impersonators—was trying to keep tabs on him.
He wasn't surprised; after all, everything about this situation was delicate, and people who stood to gain from the chaos were always lurking in the shadows.
He gripped the handle of his pistol for a moment, the cool metal offering a brief reassurance. But he didn't turn around. No, that was exactly what they'd want: for him to get distracted, to show a sign of weakness.
Six kept walking, his steps steady as he continued down the path leading back to the NCR base. His mind was already piecing together the likely suspects. There was no shortage of people who'd be interested in watching him, and considering his recent actions, it was easy to see why.
"Impersonators."
Six muttered under his breath. Whoever it was, they'd need to make their move soon, or risk becoming just another person in a long list of enemies. He had a job to finish. If someone wanted to play games, they'd have to catch up.
As he neared the NCR base, the feeling of being followed slowly dissipated, but he didn't let his guard down. These people—whether they were Kings, impersonators, or something else entirely—knew how to operate in the shadows. And Six wasn't about to give them the satisfaction of thinking he'd let them slip past unnoticed.
His mission wasn't over yet, and if things were about to blow up, he needed to be ready.