The fact that two assassins were killed had lifted everyone’s moods. Honestly, how many more assassins could there be? They would be dealt with as swiftly as the other two, in any case. After all, they have been astoundingly accurate in assessing the murders.
In any case, none were too keen on dying themselves, so they decided to stay up late and not become too inebriated. That plan fell through. Soon Nas and Waly were hanging off each other, slurring lyrics into a karaoke microphone. Food and drink were not the only things responsible for the lift in mood. Kazuki had brought out weed and had passed it out. Chikai was a lightweight: one puff and she was sailing in the clouds. And she wasn’t the only one. Hayame had been laid upon the bar, laughing whenever she laughed, and she was giggling at everything. CM ended up having a staring contest with a poster tacked on the wall, while Whatasnipe and Ghost were formulating plans for a Utopia that functioned without any form of money.
Soon everyone was passing out from either alcohol, weed and/or food comas, And either fell asleep where they found themselves or drunkenly stumbled back to any tent with a bed.
Later that night,
Sanji (a shinobi) woke up with a crazy craving for something deep fried. It didn’t matter if it were tempura or tonkatsu, it just needed to be breaded, crispy and oily.
As he stumbled out of his tent, rubbing his eyes, he wondered out to the food section of the festival grounds, hoping to find a stall still open at this late hour. If anything, he could just fry something up himself.
That ended up being the case, as all the owners had night parties they had to go to, leaving Sanji no other way to satisfy his craving. He broke into the kitchen of a Agemono stand, and proceeded to dump about five gallons of cooking oil into the deep fryer. As the unit was heating up, he tore through the ingredients, looking for batter or things to drop in. He found slices of raw pork and liquid batter, and proceeded to make himself tonkatsu.
He didn't hear a person approach. After all, he was too blitzed to realize the pork slices he grabbed were actually raw calamari, or that he was supposed to wait until the oil was completely heated before throwing the food in.
Once it sizzled and popped upon contact with flesh was when the assassin struck.
Sanji felt himself pushed towards the vat, but he threw his hands out to either side of the fryer. That only resulted in his hands burning, and as he jerked them back, the assassin shoved his face below the surface. Hot oil sizzled down his throat and down into his lungs as he tried to scream. His eyes popped in their sockets. His legs and arms kicked wildly, but the assassin calmly kept his head under the oil. When the kicking devolved to simple twitches and shudders of the dying, they stepped back.
The body slid from the fryer and landed with a heavy thud. Flesh still sizzled, filling the food court with the smell of cooked meat. The man twitched somehow still able to draw rattling breaths even with his mouth and throat blistered with third degree burns.
With a turn of a cloak the assassin walked off, satisfied with the agony he caused. When morning came and this body was discovered, there will be no more festivities trying to ignore the threat. The employer wanted everyone in a constant state of fear. It was much more satisfying that way.
This story was again written by
@SpeakingRain, give her some love (and +rep)!
It is now the day phase. Sanji was a shinobi. Vote on who you wish to kill.
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