Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was weird, confusing, not waking up in his own bedroom, yet the interior of this apartment is so familiar. A prank would be a far-fetched explanation. His friends would not go that far. Every bit of him did not want to acknowledge what was once fiction came to reality.

Breath in. Breath out. Breath in. Breath out. He calmed himself when panic struck him.

He had rummaged throughout the house, finding personal documents and other stuff that could identify himself, and telling him who he was now. Weirdly enough, he was now Yuno Sykk, having the same background as his Yuno – dropped out from college, an amount of trust fund already in his bank account (at least he did not have to be worried about cash for a bit), closet half-filled with casual clothes, a phone with no contacts at all...

Could this dream be over?

He wanted Bimbus. He missed his family. He missed his streaming setup. Valkyrae, Corpse, Toast, Leslie, Lily, Scarra, Michael, Ludwig, Buddha, Ray C, Anthony... many more.

Thomas... no, Sykku... Yuno, Yuno paced around for quite a while to digest what had happened to him.

Perhaps as long as he lives on life within Los Santos, we would magically return back to living as a streamer for fun. Maybe. Having some wishful thoughts made him feel a lot better.

He simply had to survive first.

He threw on a plain dark t-shirt and jeans, wore a pair of dark sneakers scattered at the corner of the bedroom, the only pair of shoes he got. Reminding himself to purchase a bit more apparels after he finds a job in Los Santos. A financial source was essential after all.

Sitting at the edge of the bed was a black helmet with a well-polished visor. He wondered whether or not he should wear it, but resisted after second thoughts.

He was Yuno, but not Yuno at the same time. What reason was there for him to wear it? It must be hard to breath and look through it. Plus, while his identity now was Yuno, his appearance was as of his streamer self. It was by far the only source of comfort. He had no reason to hide it, either.

He ventured out towards the front of the apartments. There were a few faces, familiar yet unfamiliar at the same time. He recognized some Rooster’s Rest employees, regular customers of Burger Shot, some racers... He shook his head, interrupting himself from recognizing the citizens. What was he even doing? He was not in the right mind nor state to meet anyone at all. In fact, it was a worse decision to get attached to them; who said he would not get back home anyway.

Taking a deep breath, he figured he would just walk around and ask where he could get employed, preferably far away from where it will bring back too many memories.

He spotted a figure just around the corner clad in denim with his arms and head exposed, lock-picking a motorcycle, a man lying down beside him. Yuno’s eye lingered on the man for a few more seconds, turned around and strode towards the opposite direction.

It was not worth it.

Chapter Text

Avoid at all cost. Avoid at all cost. Avoid at all cost... 

Avoid as much as possible. 

Digital Den was the perfect option for Yuno to work. Comparing to places like food places and twenty-four-seven stores, he had to deal with far less people, and the chances of encountering different severity of crimes were minimal. Chores were simply arranging, restocking, some easy paperwork. He got to slack off most of the time watching MitchTV, a huge plus on his list. While he did not know any Mitchers, their contents were equally as entertaining. 

He kept small talks to his colleagues and customers short yet pleasant. People thought he was a quiet and conservative person, so they often not engage conversations with him unless they needed to. He liked it though. He got to keep to himself. 

The store door opened. Yuno tore his attention away from his phone. The customers gave no attention to him as they browsed around the store. 

“I tell you, that the gallery legit will be hosting fighting matches. I wonder when will the first event happen.” 

Yuno’s ears perked up. 

“And I tell you, that was just a ploy to earn black money.” The bald man shushed his friend before he could even reply. “Think about it. Vulture’s owner is Ramee, member of Chang Gang. Gang affiliation aside, isn’t it weird that there will be a fighting ring directly inside the gallery? There will be a lot of people during the events, wouldn’t that be a risk for security? Now back to Chang Gang, clean money will not be enough, they need dirty money for more money, so why wouldn’t they have underground, illegal side bets that’s might or not might directly involve money for their own gain? It all makes sense!” 

The blonde friend crossed his arms, eyebrows furrowed in irritation. “You don’t make sense.” 

“C’mon!” He flared his arms towards the air. 

Yuno hummed in curiosity. Perhaps he should pay the Vulture a visit for the first fight night? He could earn a few more if he bet on the right person… 

He halted his train of thoughts. No. He told himself to keep interactions as less as possible. Small social circle. Small social circle. Small social circle. He reminded himself. Three times the charm. 

“You don’t even know if he’s part of the gang or not.” 

“He is! It’s public knowledge! How stupid can you be?” 

“What the fuck did you just said?” 

“I said, you are, fucking stupid. You’re just some small brain that doesn’t have smarts to think of the big picture!” 

“And the Illuminati exists. Right.” 

“They do!” 

“Uh…. Sir?” 

The smooth voice gained the duo’s attention, their heads turned towards the only employee in the store. His body slightly scrunched, left hand fiddling his phone, right hand rubbing his neck. “Is there anything I could help?” 

“Oh. Uh.” The blonde was a bit embarrassed. They were speaking quite loudly. “Have any idea where the USB and hard drives are?” 

“They’re all at the corner. Take - take your time.” His last sentence was spoke rather timidly. Despite working for almost a month, he was still not used to helping customers. With a nod, the blonde went to said area. His friend saw the annoyance visible on his face from the previous conversation, so he decided to leave him be, knowing from experience it would be best to leave him alone. Still in a chatty mood, and that Yuno was the only available target, he walked towards to counter and his side leaned on it. He eyed the name tag on his shirt. 

“So, Yuno, speaking of USB,” he whispered. “Have you ever heard of something called a dongle?” 

“… Eh?” Oh Jesus. That was one of the things he wanted to avoid.  

“Know nothing huh. Look,” he glanced towards his friend, still picking a usb stick. “Usb were a thing back in the days. Twatter, yellow pages, they’re selling everywhere. Some dumbasses were stupid enough to call them dongles in public. Who calls them dongles unless they’re something special? And, criminals were robbing banks, day and night. Robbing banks were the thing. Until these days, not one dongle ad are on the pages, and bank robberies don’t really happen anymore. So what does that mean? How criminals rob banks are different now. Hard enough to stop them. Now only the top ones can rob them.” 

Yuno was spacing out. He knew about it… in a sense, it just happened that some things were the same, even in different places. 

“Then there’s the vault right? There were attempts on hitting the vault. 

“But no one, not even Chang Gang, have successfully hit it after the dongles are gone.” 

Yuno widen his eyes a bit. Not even them? Not even him? 

“Who knows. They’re words on the streets. Imagine being the first ones to crack it. The satisfaction! But! But,” he leaned away from the counter, hand stretched outwards on his side, “I don’t preach doing crimes. Knowing is better than not knowing, eh? Unlike my friend over there. He doesn’t want to listen to anything I said!” 

The rant on his friend left unheard with Yuno in his own thoughts. He wondered what the hacking system was. Was it a reputation-based system just like what he had known? Or was there someone took over the bank scene and control who could only get the hacking devices? 

Poop, I’m doing it again.  He decided to listen to the customer’s on-going monologue. He had to stop thinking about it. 

He was just your average citizen. Nothing more, nothing less. 

Chapter Text

Yuno almost had a heart attack when he saw boxes and boxes of electronics piled up inside the storage room. He looked at his colleague who would be finishing his shift in a few minutes. Weren’t they had to be dealt with during his shift? The colleague simple shrugged, “they came in late.” 

Liar. 

Oh Jesus. 

The recycling service was new in Digital Den. As the name suggested, people got to give the store unused electronic items they do not want to use, whether it was broken or not, and they could receive some amount of cash accordingly. The down side was the increase of workload with the lack of staff and the lack of room storage inside the store, though it could be a great task to let time flow. 

Yuno silently went to work while the co-worker left the store. He started with the boxes of phone. Trying to turn them on, restoring them back to factory setting, filling in the form of the item’s details; charging those that did not turn on, repeat the previous steps, filling another form on the ones that did not work. 

Half of his shift went by. Three quarters of recycled items had been dealt with. He proceeded to work on the box of laptops. Yuno grunted when he lifted the box, not surprisingly a bit heavier than the boxes of phones. He placed it on the work desk and tore the tape-sealed box with a razor. Opening the box, numbers of rectangle electronics stacked neatly on top of each other. 

Though there was something that caught his attention near the bottom of the box. Through the little gaps, he saw a glimpse of yellow. He squinted his eyes and looked closer, then turned back his attention to the first laptop of the pile. Some owner must be obsessed with the color yellow, obsessed enough to color it as a whole. 

One by one he worked on the computers, more forms to be filled. He finally reached to the last one, the yellow one. 

Except that there was something familiar with it that it screamed turn me on.

He inspected it, not finding the on and off button on the sides. It must be on the keyboard panel then. He flipped it open- 

ESTABLISHING CONNECTION  

… Wait.  What?  

DOING SOME HACKERMANS STUFF...  

Slam!  

Who? Who would be careless enough to put a practice laptop for recycle? That person must be really insane, he should have dump it somewhere isolated or something! 

He really should fill it as a damaged product. He should. It would be trouble for someone who should not have it got his hands on it.

He flipped the pile of form towards the 'damaged' section. He grabbed the ball pen with his left hand and started to fill in the form. 

Fleeca. Paleto. Vault.  

Device model? Company slash factory? There was no way he could identify that. Perhaps writing down ‘unknown’ would be enough. If anyone asked, supposed he could just say someone made their own laptop or something. 

Number, number, number, number, maybe one or two more. Shapes. Texts. Backgrounds. Colors. Time bar. Choke or clutch.  

Other notes? He would say the device was unable to turn on, the screen was damaged; there were multiple scratch on the surface; a little dent on the cover of the motherboard. Judging by these facts, people will believe it was highly possible that it was beyond reparable, even for the tech-oblivious. Yes, yes, it was good enough to convince them, despite being functional.

Thermite. Thermite.  

A black USB.  

Yuno completed his work before the end of his shift. He figured his co-worker will be late for the next shift. She always did. He glanced at the pile of electronics, neatly organized. At least she would not have to worry about them when the delivery come to collect them. 

The yellow laptop stayed on top of the pile, contrasting the other dull metallic colors. 

He stared, head whirling with thoughts, opinions debating. 

“Three, two, four, one... Shape,” the timer ticked. “Background color.” 

Read, memorize, find the answer, repeat. 

Yuno sat on his bed, legs crossed, the yellow laptop on this lap. Eyes glues to the screen, fingers danced with grace on the keyboard. 

LEVEL FLEECA COMPLETED  

…  Oh?  

PREPARING LEVEL PALETO  

He placed his pointed finger on his lower lip, clicking his tongue a few times.  

ESTABLISHING CONNECTION  

...

DOING SOME HACKERMANS STUFF...  

The form for the damaged products was scrunched into a ball, thrown inside the bin in his apartment. 

Chapter Text

Lang Buddha loved his family (or what he called femly ), no doubt. Yes, even if they acted with the influence stupidity... 

For example, someone whose name was Tony Corleone, decided that it would be an incredible idea to inhale cocaine whilst managing the warehouse. Perhaps it was partially his own fault, insisting Tony for the job after knowing he got into a heated street race; race got snitched, all inceptors joining in and pitting targeted racers identified by their cars, him being one of them, and costing the race. His mood was sour. 

Some furniture were damaged, a few bullet holes on the wall and ceiling, a vintage arcade machine damaged for whatever reason, the list went on. They could be all be dealt with, it was fine. However, the first and foremost, that made Lang irritated, was he sent the fresh hacking practice laptop for recycle. 

Not dumping it. Not destroying it. He recycled it. A rather new one. 

He should have called Nino instead. Or he could have asked the nerds for the task. 

“Twenty-five fucking thousand, price increases starting from next week. I don’t want to buy another one if we can still retrieve it.” 

“I’m sorry Buddha, okay? I’ll pay it next time.”  

Lang felt like his veins were popping from stress.  “ I’m not giving you meth or cocaine anymore.” 

“... Fair.”  

“ It’s not I’m mad with losing it you madah fucker.” He groaned, rubbing his free hand on his temple. “Imagine someone hands it to the cops. It might have our fingerprints. We’ll be fucked.” 

“Right. Shit.”  A curse was heard through the phone speaker. “So uh... you want me to get it back?”  

“ Don’t you have a race later?” 

“... Yap.”  

Lang sighed. “I’ll do it myself. My schedule’s free. Good luck on your race. Love you, you fucking duck.” 

“Love you too daddy.”  

Tony hung up before Lang did, perhaps out of guiltiness. Then again, Lang was always the source of trouble when preparing for any heist, him very often being the reason of a delayed heist. At the end of the day, they all supported each other, and that was an enough reason to forgive each other. 

He locked his warehouse and hopped into his polished black Bently, full throttle towards the Digital Den. Cops be damned. He needed to find the damn laptop. He prayed to his ancestors he could finish it in one run, hopefully. 

The Digital Den was right down the corner. He drifted his car towards the parking lot, smooth enough that if anyone close to him were on scene, they would tease his driving skills of being ‘surprisingly great’. He saw that no one was around other than an employee in the store. Perfect. He locked his car and strode his way towards it, posture reeked of confidence and cockiness. 

One hand arranging his fringe that covered his entire forehead, while the other hand holding his phone, thumb scrolling through the screen; the young man paid no attention to someone walking in. Lang scoffed. Great customer service. He would have been fired if he works at Roosters, or even not consider hiring him. The millionaire coughed to gain his attention. The employee jumped at the unexpected sound, head whipping towards the source. Eyes widen, seemingly not knowing what to do. Lang rose his eyebrow. No shot the kid was a longtime employee here. 

“H… H, hi. How may I help you?” He stuttered. He definitely was new here, Lang thought. 

“Well,” he crossed his arms, looking right into his orbs, a mixture of brown and forest green. “Some friend of mine gave out something accidently and he need it back. Who was in charge of it.” 

“Gave it to... us?” He furrowed his brows. The bearded man sighed in desperation. “The recycling shit.” 

“Oh! Right, right. That would be me...” His eyes drifted downwards, pace of blinking increased. 

“Perfect. Do you recall any laptops that are yellow? There’re some important documents we can’t afford to lose.” 

“Oh, uh... I’m afraid that it was," eye shifted to his left, then right back to Lang’s, immediately looked down on the cashier desk, his speech trailing. “Very, damaged.” 

Lang chewed the inside of his mouth. “So it’s gone?” 

“... Yah.” Still not making eye contact. The young man took a deep breath through his nose and exhaled. From nerves? Or from lying? The tanned man decided to press. 

“Will it be... against your employee’s rules to tell me how you guys deal with the computers and shit?” 

“No! No, not at all. Well, um,” his gestures got a little animated whilst explaining the procedure. “We get it, we check it if it works or not, fill forms, arrange them for the delivery to get it... that’s about it.” 

“I see.” Lang hummed. Now that he was not thinking about the laptop for a brief moment, changing the topic back to the laptop will catch him off guard. If he panicked, this person was someone he was looking for. “How broken was the laptop anyway?” 

“I think um... it’s-” 

“You think?” Lang rose his eyebrow. The other man jolted with the sudden interruption. “Can I see the form? You won’t be in trouble if I just have a look, would you?” 

He stayed silent, not giving any reply. Hook, line, and sinker. It was an answer – it was highly possible it was not broken at all, and he dealt with the laptop against work protocol. These were just speculations, but Lang could not think of any other reason why he acted this way. While very much so wanted to finish this little investigation, anything related to criminal activities was not appropriate to be spoken of in a working environment. 

“When’s your shift end?” 

“...In an hour or so.” Voice meek, continued to not making any eye contact. 

Lang eyed the nametag on his shirt. “... See you later, Yuno.” 

He turned around and left the store without second glance. He marched towards his Bently and climbed in, sat inside and watched the kid through the windows. He had better not neglect to his soft demand. He knew where the laptop was, his gut said so. Whether he kept it, or he gave it to someone, he will get it back. 

Assuming he did keep it, what was his motive? Did he know anything about the laptops and the hacks? Never the less, he will figure it out. 

Chapter Text

The drive towards the apartment was tense. Neither were speaking, even Lang was struggling to start up a conversation to fathom the stranger beside him. Yuno’s posture was scrunched, not wanting to be part of it in any form. Another red light, another wait. Los Santos’ traffic system was famous for its infuriation. Lang fought the urge to step on the pedal. His goal now was to make the poor soul comfortable enough to speak. Information was key.

“So,” Lang looked at Yuno from the corner of his eyes. “Haven’t seen you before. Moved here not long ago?”

Yuno gave a small nod, still staring at the view. “Nearly two months.”

The millionaire hummed. “What about like this – you talk about yourself, and I'll talk about myself. I don’t wanna, you know, make things awkward between us. I know that our first impressions aren’t that great, but it is what it is.”

Not receiving an answer, Lang huffed. He mentally reminded himself to be patient, to not blowup from frustration. He must not mention anything about the practice laptop yet. As soon as he felt like Lang was a trustworthy person, the moment he asked about it, he will answer it honestly.

Now why has not the traffic light turn green yet?

“I um...” he started to talk with his smooth buttery voice. Good, Lang thought, he was willing to participate in the conversation, a good start. “Dropped out of college not too long ago. It wasn’t... really my thing, you know. I didn’t tell my parents though. I don’t think they know yet?”

“Rebellious. Couldn’t imagine.”

“W-What? Rebel – That, that, uh hum,” Yuno’s outburst surprised Lang. “Was a strategic choice. Strategic.”

Lang laughed a hearty laugh, amused with his choice of vocabulary. When was dropping out of college considered as a strategy? Most would say it was their choice, or it was not their thing, or even doing it in spite of their parents. As much as he hated to admit, this Yuno had started to grew a sort of an intrigue.

“So, I’m Lang Buddha, unless you don’t know.” The light turned green. Finally! “Multi-millionaire. Owner of Rooster’s Rest, co-owners with other businesses. Have a few penthouses. Very rich.”

Now what would catch the kid off guard...

“And I got a big dick.”

Yuno was flabbergasted, “w-w-w-what! Why? Why!” Lang smirked, constraining himself from teasing the poor guy further.

“As much as I want to know more about you, business is business,” a little white lie, he just wanted to know what ties he had with the laptop, nothing more. “What did you think about the laptop.”

He clicked his tongue, finding the right word to answer. “… Interesting.”

“Do you even know what it’s use for?”

“… Kinda? I mean,” he trailed. “Some customer mentioned something about banks and hacking and stuff. I think I figured it out?”

Lang hummed. Words in Los Santos did spread around fast. “You interested in doing crime?”

“No.”

That was a quick reply. His impression of him went from a shitty employee to an innocent person. Innocent might be a bit stretched though, since he did take the laptop. If that was all simply an act, hats off to him.

They did not strike another conversation after the mention of someone’s manhood and a short business talk, but the atmosphere was not suffocating anymore. Lang’s face masked with seriousness once they reached the apartment parking lot. Weirdly there were no more red lights after the little chat.

Yuno hopped out of the car first, Lang following after he locked his car. The apartments were unusually quiet. Was there a special event around the time? There should be, or else it will be crowded with people of different backgrounds, even with people constantly greeting him.

Both of them waited for the elevator. Lang once again studied Yuno. His right thumb tuck in his jean pocket, left hand arranging his bangs. Left-handed? If the left-handed were as intelligence as were told, he wondered if behind the meek appearance was a genius.

The elevator dinged, the duo went in, and the younger one pressed the floor buttons. Lang kept in mind where he lives, just in case he had to find him, he could recall of his address.

The elevator door opened, Yuno stepped out first, Lang followed. They walked towards the end of the corridor, footsteps muffled by the cheap stained carpet.

Yuno zipped his duffle bag all the way to the end, fumbling to search for his house key. The other man glanced inside the bag. No traces of guns, or any form of weapons. A man such as him could never be too careful when two strangers were together, especially when it relates to any criminal activities, major or minor. Yuno found his keys, pulled it out and insert it to the key hole, twisting the lock accompanying with a click.

The apartment was simple, nothing too crazy, just the basic furniture. He watched as Yuno hurried to his bedroom, sound of items shuffling was heard. Not a moment later, he came out, a practice laptop in perfect condition held in his hand. He held it out towards the multi-business owner, who was frowning with questions in his head, some of which was already there the moment they met.

Why had he lied? What was his reasoning?

“You know,” Lang eyed Yuno one last time, receiving the laptop back. “A little bit of advice, telling the truth from the start is best for you.”

Imagine if the one he was facing was not Lang, but someone else deranged. With how he responded him back in Digital Den, he would have been killed. The streets of Los Santos were much harsher than it seemed like.

He closed his apartment door, the least of gratitude he could provide given he got the laptop back to the hands of its owner. He clutched it close, hurried downstairs and quickly retreated back to his personal vehicle. He flipped it open, much relieved when it was still working. Although the new screen interface had him frozen.

[START]

[LEADERBOARD]

“What the fuck?” He directed his mouse cursor towards the second option and clicked on it. His brows rosed the second he saw the content.

1. Cheat Code – Level Lower Vault (66.6%)

2. N/A

3. N/A

4. N/A

5. N/A

⋮

Lang rubbed his face in frustration. He could not take a break, couldn’t he? As much as he loved the city, the stress could be unbearable at times.

The bank hacks were different... became difficult should be the right phrasing. Though he could not blame that they changed security measures. Every bank being robbed every single day was a huge resource drain to the police department. The counter measure was reasonable, though a huge disadvantage to the crime’s side.

The hacking fundamentals were there, it was just that the time got faster. He was practicing more to hopefully one shot a Fleeca in a few weeks or so. Except that he might have gotten a hint from Ramee the Paleto bank was slightly different... not going to lie, he was worried.

And then there was this new leaderboard stuff on the practice laptop.

… Surely it was too much of a coincidence to be possible. Just pure coincidence.

Was it?

The moment his apartment door was closed with a click, Yuno started to back up towards the sofa, knees buckling. The landed on the soft leather with a small thud the moment his legs touched it. He lent out a shaky breath, clearly overwhelmed from the past hours.

“He is Lang Buddha, not Mr. Lang. He is Lang Buddha, not Mr. Lang. He is Lang Buddha,” Yuno chocked. “Not Mr. Lang.”

That was what he wanted to avoid at all cost – the people he met, the bonds he made, the memories they made. The people here in Los Santos, while similar in every single way he remembered... their faces (real and virtual), their voices, their personality... they were not the ones he grew fond of. He knew it sounded stupid, but if he were to interact with them the way he began in the other Los Santos, or even just speak with them for a split second, he felt like he was cheating in every way, even cheating with the friendships with Whippy, Lysium, Buddha, the list went on.

If his list of ‘people he should not interact with’ were ascendingly ranked with ‘he could’, ‘guess so’, ‘probably not’ and ‘must not’, Lang Buddha was at the top of the list, and he just had to meet him in the worst possible way.

They even had a short pleasant conversation.

He pretended as if he was very new to the city, which he technically was, the moment he realized what was happening. He shall know no one, know nothing, a new leaf in the city. He avoided what he knew, focused on the unknown. It was all fine until...

He tussled with his hair in frustration. One moment he was happily falling asleep after hours of variety streaming and watching his friends streaming, the other moment he woke up in the apartment in the supposedly fictional city.

What could he do other than keeping the impossible truth to himself?

The light that had lit up a spark of passion and joy from the hack last night dulled down after today’s event.

Chapter Text

Lang was parked on the rooftop in the red garage. Always a great place for the citizens to steal a car, so often empty. He tried to ring Ramee to ask if he knew, or even found out the little changes the practice laptop had. Unable to call, he tried the Chang Gang leader himself.

It connected in the first ring.

“What’s up Buddha?”

“How’s it going K. Busy?”

“No. Why?”

“You got a practice laptop right now?” They knew each other for years. There was no reason to play rig around the roses. “Ya. Ramee’s using it. He’s malding so hard right now.”

A comedic scream was heard through the phone speakers. Must be Ramee. He could image the colorful curses that came out of his mouth. If he was so frustrated, he imagined he did not go far on the hack progress. “You saw the leaderboard shit?”

“Ya. He saw that and ‘s been like this for an hour. I’m just glad Randy ain’t bull headed enough to use it like a psycho.”Lang turned on the laptop for the second time of the day, curiously selected the leaderboard. It updated. On the second of the board was by the name of Vulture, who completed a quarter percent of the upper vault. Surely that was Ramee. Who would nickname himself or herself that other than the gallery owner? Currently there were only two on the board. He wondered how Randy would do in the rankings. He wondered how far he could go with the hacking. He should test it out later.

“You know who that Cheat Code is?”

Already fishing for information. Classic Kebun, always skeptical. “If I do, I won’t call you.”

“True.” The background became a lot noisier, consisted of more shouting. More and more different voice added to the mixture. He thought that he heard a certain Mickey screamed in a high pitched tone, in contrast to his velvety rich bass. Kebun gave out a loud sigh. “Good day Buddha.”

“Good day.” The gang leader immediately hung up. Lang could sympathize with his frustration, given that he had a huge family tree.

He slipped the laptop into the glove box. He stretch, popping a few joints and groaned. How long since he had a day off? He probably should get one. One day free of headaches was good for his mentality.

His mind drifted back to the bank progress. Ever since the day they system changed, only a handful of criminals were able to rob Fleecas and Paleto, not a single vault yet. There was only one known Paleto since. The Chang Gang was the first. Though from the tone of the conversation with them after the event, he had not heard an ounce of excitement. Whether Ramee or Randy hacked it, it did not matter; the fact was neither top hackers could breeze through the hacks anymore… yet. With the mysterious Cheat Code in the scene, he was sure the criminal circle will stir up a storm.

The other major change was the accessibility of the laptops and their system.

All in the name of the self proclaimed Game Masters.

Who were they? None had a clue. They dressed and posed themselves as artificial intelligence, but it did not matter. They were the providers of the laptops, and monitors of the hacking scene. They proposed the new reputation based system. The better you hack, the more access you got. All were reset, even Double R had to abide by their rules. Every single experienced hacker had to start from the very beginning.

As for the leaderboard, was the practice coding waiting for someone to reach the last phrase of the bank hack to show, even if they have not completely cracked it? It should be, or else why would it show how far they went?

That did not matter. The banks were free for all. Only the determined criminals can reach the vault. Lang and his crew were itching to reach for the price awaiting in the big bank.

A heist meeting was long due.

“What if it’s the kid.” Nino dragged his joint, commenting after Lang told how his day went. “The timing was impeccable.”

“Maybe. Maybe not.” He grabbed a can of beer from his fridge. Beers were not his first choice of drinks, but it would do to sooth his mood. He was too lazy to open a bottle of red wine. “If it’s really him, then we can only see his name from our laptop. Chang Gang can see the ranking, so it can be anyone.”

Sizzles could be heard from the kitchen. The nice aroma of spice and top graded steak floated towards the living room. Tony offered to cook. It had been a long time since he make dinner for his founded family, focusing in the driving scene. “I think Ray can do the vault hack soon.”

He flipped the meat to the plate as soon as it was medium rare. Nino dropped his finished joint in the ash tray, then walked towards the kitchen bar, utensils placed neatly on the table bar. Lang followed suit. The Italian offered the plate to Lang first, then turned around to cook another. “He did his first Paleto hack today, got it the second try. He’s like, two weeks into the hacking game? Mother fucker’s grinding this shit. His dark circle worse last saw him few hours ago.”

“Where’s Ray now?” Nino watched the fire dancing on the stove.

“Grinding. Spending time with his wives. What else.”

“Fair enough.”

“Fuck. I’m old.” Lang stuffed a piece of premium beef into his mouth, beer left forgotten in the meantime. He let out a sound of satisfaction once its flavor spread through this tongue. He chewed. The steak juice added another layer of tastiness. Corleone’s cooking skill never disappointed him. Good food was definitely the ultimate healing potion. “My hacking game can’t keep up with the youngsters anymore. Even Ray got to buy a red laptop. Did he buy the laptop?”

Tony transferred the seasoned raw steak from the metal plate to the iron cast with tongs. “Yap.”

“You're not old.” The Costa Rican reassured him. “You just have other priorities than just hacking. I can’t even hack like the old days too.”

Lang hummed, mouth full of food. Raymond Romanov was relatively new to his social circle. The Russian, while could be overthinking and frustrating to deal with at time, he was loyal and dedicated. New to the crime side, yet already making a name to himself. He had wanted to get Harry as part of his main heist crew, yet he was one of the backbones of his weed business, already having so much to do. His nerds too, already helping him with different industries within the criminal world. To conclude, Ray was the best choice of addition to the crew, despite being a fresh criminal. Plus, he was starting to spend more time with the family.

Though, he should not make the decision by himself. The crew was a family, not a gang. The others should chip in their opinions before hammering down the nail.

“Tony?” Said person had already finished preparing another serving for two when he was in his mind. “You think Ray can join a few heist with us?”

“Oh, absolutely.” He flung his fork like a wand while voicing his own opinion. “He’s cracked at shooting, driving a bike and plane, getting better at cars too.”

“And also a potential stable hacker.” Nino added, finally having a taste of the steak. “Mh mh mh. Also, Lang, you’re gonna find the Cheat Code or something? I mean, I know that it’s a bad idea to take some stranger with us, but imagine he’d be able to crack the vault for us in a snap. We’d just have to take care of the planning and getaway.”

“If we can. Depends.” Nino nodded in agreement. If Chang Gang did not even have an idea, the probability of the person being new to the scene was larger than being a crime veteran.

However, as much as experience and brains were important in different aspects of life, a person’s sixth sense was too. For this reason, this kid who took the laptop churned something within the three’s stomachs, especially Lang.

“Why don’t just ask the kid.” Tony grabbed Lang’s empty plate.

“He’ll be too scared to even speak.” He chugged down the remains of the can of beer. He remembered how Yuno took a while to confess him having the laptop. “He’ll just shut down if we ask him. We can spend some time to make him feel comfortable, but it’s a fucking waste of time. We should just focus on our hacking.”

The other two stayed silent, a non-verbal agreement to what Lang had said. Nino finished his meal, Tony as well. The street racer gathered the used cookery, plates and utensils to the sink. He popped them inside the dish washer, one which was rarely used. Tony turned around to the others.

“Poker?”

A great after meal activity to finish off the day. They all needed it.

Chapter Text

Sirens blazed through the highway. Four sleek tops chasing a black truck, the driving screaming send it on the top of his lungs. It was nearly a daily occurrence for the citizens of Los Santos to witness the same person getting chased by the cops. Who other than the crazed Aussie would get himself in this situation? 

If you were to listen closely, you would have heard a voice that was neither of his close associates. 

“You’re crazy! You’re crazy!” 

Laughter boasted from the car. A hard turn to the left, the shriek of tires rang through the city, a marvelous wild drift was performed, not losing too much of his speed. The perusing authorities were not skilled enough to perform such maneuver, slightly releasing the gas pedal and breaking to turn to avoid spin outs. The distance was widened in that instant. 

Now what had happened again? 

Yuno drove the truck like the well-behaved citizen he was. A list of electronics was to be delivered between the alley of Merlanoma Street and Bay City Avenue, Vespucci. He knew well whom that turf belongs to, supposedly. He did not know what were those items were, but signing out early from work was much desirable to be denied. 

His employer handed him an old wrinkled hand-written receipt and a little note underneath it. Yuno looked at him with a questioning look.  

“Drive the truck outside to this address,” he gestured to a piece of note. “Then you can end your day.”  

That was unusual. When did Digital Den ever offer delivery services? Was it new? Seemingly knowing what he was thinking, the gruff man shoved the papers in his hand.  

“Don’t ask. Just fucking do it. I’ll take over the shift.” He waved his hand to shoo him away.  

“Also the truck was stolen. Deal with it whatever you want.”  

“Eh?”  

Drive, give, sign, papers, dip. Easy job. 

Plus, less shift hours. He needed it after days and days of overtime… not blaming it on a certain not punctual co-worker. 

He had not drove for a long while, and the mysterious contents on the truck gave him a tad more anxiety than usual. Drive on the right lane, mind the road, do not go on red, look at the viewing mirror before switching lanes. Yuno itched to finish the job and catch a taxi to his apartment and chill with some Mitch broadcasts. 

He wondered what food he should order for tonight. 

Complying all traffic laws, he finally arrived to his destination. He stopped by the gate, honked his horn to announce his arrival. He identified a few figures at the dead end of the alleyway, them covering a graffiti of some club sprayed on the wall. One was starting to walk towards him. He opened a gap of the gate and approached by the driver seat, placing his arm on the hood. 

He wore a cap, denim vest with batches sewn on, dark jeans and a pair of Timberland boots. He eyed the driver through his sunglasses, the corner of his mouth turned down. His Australian accent heavy with a deep baritone voice. “Business?” 

Yuno reassured himself everything will be fine. He held out the papers his employer gave him. “From Mr. Denton.” 

He snatched the paper and gave it a quick scan. He gave a little huff through his nose. “Come in kid. No funny business.” 

“Uh… okay?” His reply went unheard since the other had already began to open the gate for him to drive inside. He fought the urge to step hard on the pedal to quickly go to the end of the alley, hopefully to finish the exchange as soon as possible. Though it might piss them off, so he did not. 

Some were chatting among themselves, then turned into some argument. The remaining were grabbing the packages from the trunk. He did not seem to mind what and why exactly they were doing, he just wanted to leave and go home. 

Then, the passenger door opened. He looked to his right and one of theirs hopped in and closed the door. The person was none other than the figure he saw lock picking as motor cycle when he first came to Los Santos. 

“Hey champion.” He fastened his seatbelt. His voice churned something deep inside his stomach. “My name’s Uncle Dundee. What’s yours?” 

Another person in the ‘must not meet’ list. 

“Yuno.” Short and brief answers. Do not let them ask more questions, not like what had happened between him and Lang Buddha. He swore that there will be no repeat of scenario. At least within his power. 

“Good to meet ‘cha mate.” The Aussie wheeled down the window, stuck his head outside and yelled to the others. “Are you all fucking done?” 

“Yes boss!” 

“Perfect! Mum!” He gestured to the only female in the group. “Help me take care of them.” 

She simply waved her hand in affirmation. Satisfied with it, his entire body was back in the truck. He told the younger to drive away from the alley, and to head towards Harmony. 

Yuno complied. Without any GPS to guide him, too lazy to take out his phone to set a point, he tried to recollect what was the quickest way to get to Harmony. 

Dundee took in how silent the kid was. He was not fond of too much quietness. He figured he could start a chatter. He trailed, “so...” 

No response. He supposed that kid was too focused on driving. Too safe for his own taste. His whole being hated how the vehicle was not speedy enough and swerve enough. 

“Do you know what’s in the boxes?” 

“No.” 

Poor kid. Oblivious to what activity he was committing. He was the fall guy of the whole transition. “Do you know who the BBMC are?” 

“... No.” 

Dundee huffed in dissatisfaction. His club needed more work to make a name in the city. Chang Gang, Vagos, and whatever Lang Buddha and his friends called themselves. If not everyone heard their name, then they were not in their best in the criminal world yet. Key word, yet. His club will be the best in the near future. He was sure of it. 

“Then-” 

Sirens. 

Unfazed, Dundee looked at the rear mirror. He squinted his eyes to see who was pulling them over. A ranger. He reached for his rear side to make sure he had his pistol on. They were near the northern side of Los Santos; it was not that surprising to see rangers around. The moment he could see a brown full beard, he immediately knew it was Conan Clarkson. 

He glanced at the driver. His grip on the steering wheel was tight, brows furrowed and a few beads of sweat dripping down the side of his face. As much of a hardened criminal Dundee was, he was a big softy at heart. He did not know what his character was, and he should not judge a person based on their very first impression, but Dundee was certain Yuno was a kind kid, maybe a bit too timid given from their interaction. Something told him so. 

“Champion.” He spoke softly. Yuno turned his head, eye filled with worry. “It’ll be alright. You did nothin’ wrong. Turn off the engine, roll down your window. Relax.” 

The younger listened, yet still tensed. He did not feel any reassurance at all. The older man could see his thumb fumbling more of the steering wheel the moment the ranger was at the side of the truck, a pad in his hand. 

Why did he felt like he was missing something? 

He was not in a shoot out today. He was not in a car chase either. Well he did bickered with with a cadet this morning in Burger Shot. The arguing got rather heated and he punched the cadet in the temple and he stumbled over, not getting back up the moment his head collided to the floor. The fast food restaurant went to panic mode and there were phone calls… 

Oh. 

“Sup. Conan Clarkson of the Park Rangers here.” The ranger took a quick look at the driver and the passenger. He turned to the pad and started to type. “Do you have any idea why you’re getting pulled over?” 

He thumbed the wheel more. Both the criminal and ranger took notice of that. While Dundee immediately knew that this action of his rose suspicion to the ranger, Conan’s thought process did confirm his thought. Yuno gave the ranger an unsure answer, “...no?” 

“Mh hm.” Conan half-heartedly nodded. “Does this truck belong to you?” 

“No.” 

He frowned. So far the one worded replies was getting on his nerves. He preferred to process more talkative people. “Is it your friend’s?” 

“... Something like that.” 

Conan groaned. He would not be getting much from him, would he? Never mind the vehicle, he had one reason enough to call for a ten-seventy-seven after all, regarding a certain person in the vehicle. “Driver’s license?” 

Yuno held out his identification car to the ranger. Los Santos was relatively a weird city, where IDs could be considered as driving licenses. Conan checked his record. Clean. Not even a single point. He was impressed considering he had been in the city for some time now. He handed back the card to the owner. “Give me a sec.” 

Dundee waited for a few moments for the ranger to be far enough from earshot. He unfastened his seatbelt, reached to Yuno’s and unbuckled it too. He grabbed his arms and switched their seats, not accounting the questionable and confuse on his face, “I’m takin’ over.” 

“W-w-w-w-wha? Dundee?” 

Well that was the most reaction he got from for the meantime. He ignored the distance cries of shouting coming from the far back. His seatbelt was on, he did not care whether his companion had his on, and pedaled to the metal. “I think I have a warrant on me. Hang on tight champion! Send it!” 

“What! Why! How! Dundee!”  

His maniac laugh echoed through the truck. “No worries champion. Uncle Dundee’s best at drivin’. Not even the copps dogs catch me for the past days! Hang on tight!” 

Dundee took a u-turn to head towards the city. Chances were backup will arrive more sooner than going to Paleto, but he was more confident in losing the cops in the city. He also had a kid to impress, what other than losing a number of cops in a crowded city be best for his plan? “Oh? This truck is fucking fast.” 

Yuno struggled with the seatbelt, his other hand holding the handle implemented on the car ceiling for his dear life. He questioned his life choices. Why did he even agreed to do the delivery. That was a bad idea. A really bad idea. His heart skipped when he saw more cop cars sped on the opposite side of the highway. They turned around and started to peruse them, with the ranger sleek top hot on their tail. “They’re three more!” 

Dundee hummed. A few turns and tricks will break their ankles. Never mind the person in the passenger seat squirming in occasion, he focused on the road and started to plan his escape route, and to fuel more rage to the police department that they could not catch him for days. 

“The furthest one spun out!” 

Dundee’s ears perked up from Yuno’s call. He could do comms? That was out of the blue. “Can you keep an eye for me champion?” 

“I just wanna leave man! I don’t wanna go to jail for my job!” The Aussie chuckled. His club got the packages. He got into a cop chase. He met an interesting person. Escaping the coppa dogs will be the cherry on top. “You’re with the best get away driving in the fucking city mate! We’re gonna get outta here.” 

Another sleek top joined. Dundee drifted to the right, miraculously avoiding hitting a few vehicles peacefully driving across the cross way. “You’re crazy! You’re crazy!” 

Adrenaline pumped through Dundee’s veins. His foot never once stepped on the break. With a few comms from Yuno, the distance between the truck and four cop cars grew larger. He was about to go straight through the tunnels of a parking garage until the younger halted his decision. His voice was still filled with fear. “Two went to the right, they might be doing a parallel or something!” 

“All righty mate.” A u-turn to the left, he knocked down the barricade that blocked the broken concrete of the highway. The cops were not prepared for the trick and was too late to turn. With the opportunity, Dundee decided to head towards the ship docks on the south side of Los Santos. They will be safe there, and he could call for pickup from his club mates. 

He glanced at Yuno, already deflating like a balloon, his body slouched. “You all right?” 

Yuno looked at him, exhausted from the chase. He rubbed his face vigorously, his words muffled. “Please, take me to the apartments.” 

Dundee patted his shoulder as a thank you for his quick wit, a smile on his face. He had a feeling that they would get along together. As for Yuno? 

He just missed his comfy bed. 

Dundee quick dialed his husband, requesting for a pickup. He could not wait to tell the club of his mini adventure. 

Chapter Text

Nino Chavez was a man of many things. A business man. A shit talker. A reporter. A criminal network dealer. Many more. People who briefly interacted with him would view him as an intelligent individual. People who have seen him in the court would know him for winning basically all of his cases. Cop and criminals who knew him well would compare him to a snake.

And as of his close friends, he was the ‘cum stacker’. Well, his closest friend group were a bunch of cum stackers.

When Lang had said searching for the Cheat Code was not a necessity, he did not agree to a certain degree. Hackers were already rare, but a hacker that was consistent was more than rare. He tried the practice laptop himself, and he concluded that for someone who was able to reach to almost the end of the sequences, he will be the most valuable asset in the bank busting market.

No fails were allowed for the practice. One mistake and you will have to start over again. It required skills, focus, and talent all together. How well he could deal with the pressure was another story. It could be trained from experience.

Well, yes, Lang and Ray could grind for the hacks, but how long would it take? Weeks? Months? There was no direct answer. It was too time consuming to say the least. If it were in the past, Nino would have agreed with Lang, yet with how the hacking game changed, he was sure that hiring a hacker was the most ideal choice. Maybe it was time to change their mindset of sticking with the crew and close friends a little bit depending on the situation. And now was the perfect time to change. Or at least, when it revolved around the hacking part, until Lang and Ray could do it without a breaking a sweat.

He started form what he knew.

Ramee and Randy were out of the question. Who other than them in the Chang Gang were reliable hackers? There might be some potential hackers among their associates, but he doubted that they would do heists considering their gang’s heavy mentality. The Vagos too. Close allies they were, but he did not think that they were interested in joining any bank heists, expect when Speedy was involved – always ended with a chaotic and ridiculous chase.

Maybe the Angles? They were in a good relationship, and they sometimes did jobs together with a mixture of crew members. He heard that they did a few bank jobs before the hacking changed, but the successful rate was not that high, it was too unstable.

So he spent days around the city seeking information. It was proven to be an almost impossible task. The system change caused a shortage of hackers.

He did find a few that had hacked banks form the previous systems. They had given up, ventured to earn by different means. Even some minor casual crews decided that banks were not worth the effort anymore.

And for the two that were burring their nose deep in the hacking game, he found something through them, regrettably nothing was related to the person he was finding.

First was La Flare Davis.

“I think I know someone that might be able to hack the vault.” Nino’s ears perked up from La Flare’s words, but turned to disappointment the moment he added, “but he’s been out of the city for some while now. So, I don’t think it’s him.”

He might not be in the city right now, but if that person were to come back in the near future, he would have an extra name to contact. “Who’s he?”

“X. Jean Paul. He inspired me, you know?” He could hear fondness coming through the motorcycle helmet. “I miss him.”

Nino hummed in agreement. As much of a rascal and goblin he was, the craziness in him did brought a layer of color to the city.

Then there was Carmella Corset.

Carmella laughed at the thought of being the best hacker in the city. Sure, she was green, blue and thermite certified, but she believed Olivia Harvey was better than her.

“She did a vault before?”

“I mean, yah, kinda.” She placed her pointed finger on her chin, reminiscing her past vault heist with the silver-haired friend. “But we didn’t complete it. It’s so sad.”

Nino sighed in yet another disappointment.

He took the last resort. He had to find this Yuno kid. Combining both his line of logic and the gut feeling when he had dinner with Lang and Buddha, it might as well be that kid who almost completed all sequences.

Why was he acting all nervous when it was clearly his first meeting with Lang? Why did he hide the fact that he took the laptop for personal use? There was no reason for him to lie if he was not toying with the laptop in any way, but he did. Why did he even take it in the first place? And most of all, why did the leaderboard appear just after their laptop was in his hands? Yes, they could argue that anyone other than him could reach the lower vault practice hack and triggered the leaderboard, and it was caused by a poor timing. However, was that not also a great excuse to get heat off from him if he was the Cheat Code? So far, the argument for him being the hacker was more favorable than him not being it.

If it was indeed not him, the search will be more problematic. He had no lead anymore.

He called Jacob Harth, owner of the store. He had not been in touch with him for a while.

“Nino.”

“Yo Jacob! Long time no see. How ya been doing?”

“Business?”

Nino suppressed the urge to chuckle. He was still the old Jacob he knew, too serious for his own good and was married to his businesses. “Do you have someone called Yuno working in your Digital Den.”

“… Ah, right. He is. Why.”

“Is he uh… working right now.”

“He should be. He was in the nine to six shift. You need him?”

“Yeah. I need to talk with him about something for a little bit.”

“Okay.” The business owner hung up the phone after he just finished talking. His bluntness was expected, in contrast of his chatty nature.

There was plenty of time. Half an hour to go until six. Being the thinker he was, he thought of how he will approach the person.

In all honesty, he got impatient from the search. He spent almost all his spare time to search for the hacker only to be driven to a dead end. He was willing to get really aggressive when confronting him on the situation. Of course, he would still let his guard down first. The method was common, classy, but effective in most cases.

Assuming he had knowledge on the crime scene of Los Santos, which he would know to a certain degree since the encounter with Lang, and that he instisted of acquiring back the laptop was too suspicious, leading to him able to conclude the usage of the laptop, or that he already figured if he did use it (and he still believed he did so). Starting from casual talk of crimes. He will then focus on the banking robbing and hacking aspect. Depending on how he reacted, it did not matter if he was verbal or not, actions would tell. A perfect play for an impatient man. Worse case, he would just ocean dump him.

He got a gun strapped on him, a precaution unless things go south.

Yap. Yap. Yap. Yap. Nino kept on chattering. He left no space for any sort of interruption. The observatory was a good place for a heart-to-heart talk with somebody, except it was not a heart-to-heart.

“The oxy scene is fucked. Many runners are not really aware of the cops, the spots get exposed, we have to find new spots, and the cycle continues. I mean, it is not that bad, but if you consider that it’s a nearly daily occurrence, then it’s a real fucking headache. Soon there won’t be a lot of spots to do it anymore. Then it’ll be a fucking long time ‘till we get to do oxy again.

“You’d think a house robbery is a great job, but it has the most inconsistent pay out. Even those fuckers in Vinewood wised up and rarely keep the good stuff inside their house anymore. You can still scam people. You can still commit other sorts of thievery. These are just petty crime. So, what’s left? Very risky, and very illegal jobs. Unregistered weed business, weapon trafficking, meth cooking… banks heist.”

He paused. He glanced at the young man and wondered whether he got any reaction. Though he seemed to dozed a little less with the mention of banks. “Ya know, I was quite the hacker back in the day. The hacks back then ‘s very, very different. Imagine like a rhythm game, right? You just have to hit the right key the moment the word reaches the line, you know what I mean? Then there’s another one that’s basically finding the right combination in a bunch of letters. You just have to have a good eye and reflection, and that’s about it. But now, you have to get, like, excellent processing to even do the hack himself. Oh, and being a quick typer too. I’m pretty sure you have a few looks at the hack itself, like, a bunch of numbers, remembering those numbers, shapes, colors, words, all that shit. I don’t have that much of a brain power to do all that shit in a short amount of time. You know what I mean?”

He threw the bud of finished cigarette on the ground, feet squashing it flat. “There is a little problem with many of the big crews here in Los Santos. Hiring man power ain’t a problem – you can’t do it, you find someone to do it. But now that they are holding a lot of power in the city, they think that, you know, need to make a statement that they can do all the things. They have the illusion that they can do something even when they can’t. Yeah, they can grind the skill, but for how long? Is it efficient? No. Why just not use the good old way of hiring someone with similar interest. It can be awkward, it can pose a risk for exposing your crime empire, it is less fun without having all of your boys in the same crew, I'll admit that. But there are times where bringing in people is the best choice.”

The kid was feeling more unease. Good. “Sorry for ranting. I need it get it out from my chest somehow.”

“Huh?” His eye widened from the little apology, the rays from the setting sun added a hint of honey and emerald hue to his eyes. “It’s... okay, anything that I can help.”

Both of them cringe at the reply. Well, social skills were not his best suit. And spending too much time in retail did not help much either. Nino decided to just jump into business to save his embarrassment. “Anyway, what I want to ask is, you want to be our hacker? We can discuss the payout.”

“... Um.” Nino grinned like a Cheshire cat. The single syllable he just uttered did not consist of a questionable tone. He did not deny the fact that he called him a hacker. It must be him all along. It must be.

He watched as Yuno looked around other than him, finding an answer. He did not need him to accept the offer at first. He did not expect that. What he needed was to plant a seed into him and make him slowly gravitate towards them. “You have something to lose? I can understand that. I can’t really force you to do something if you don’t want to.”

“It’s... uh, not-”

“Then what are you afraid of, really? If you’re determined in not doing any crime, or even have any interest you wouldn’t have touched the laptop at all, would you?”

Yuno gave out an exhausted sigh. He tussled with his hair with frustration. Nino thinned his lip, waiting. His mind racing with the possible answers he might give and thinking about how he would reply accordingly.

“It’s not… it’s not only the… illegal things. I’ve never done them,” a little car chase with an Aussie flashed in his mind. “Allegedly. And, um… it’s also…”

Nino gestured him to finish his sentence.

“The people.”

Nino tilted his head, brows frowning. That was not what he pictured at all. “Can you elaborate?”

“Well… I…” Breath in. Breath out. Breath in. Breath out. Yuno took a while to gain enough courage to mention of his problem he had since his arrival to the city. He was still hesitated to openly speak about the topic, but it was eating his mind. He knew it was not healthy to bottle up and should find someone to discuss about it. His anxiety took a toll and he stayed quiet the entire time. If Nino was the same as the other Nino he knew, he was the best person to touch the subject.

If not now, then when? He decided to take a leap.

And how can he word it so he would not seem to live with hallucinations; a crazy person?

“Do you… believe in… having a copy of yourself in this universe?”

The Costa Rican blinked. “Huh… What the fuck?”

“Oh Jesus! I mean uh… uh… let’s say, sometimes city life is so similar, that if you’re used to the city life, then even if you move to another city, you’ll still be accustomed to it, right? And,” Yuno coughed, taking a little pause to organize what he would be saying. “There are people you meet along the way. Los Santos is very similar to the previous city I live in. And the people, they really remind me of my friends a lot. I don’t know if I can meet them anymore, but I – I…”

Sadness. Grief. Helplessness. That was what Nino could see. A broken… no, lost young man. His memories were stuck in the past. He did not want to necessarily know what had happened, unless he opened up, but chances were less. If that was stopping him from being happy, chasing dreams, living life, then he was positive that he could at least get him out of his shell.

“You know, you’re actually a hypocrite.”

“W… what?”

Sometimes, a harsh reality check was what we needed.

“So what if they’re similar in every way? They’re different individuals. If you miss them so much, then why not just travel back? I don’t know why you came here, I won’t ask that. If you’re continuing to stay in this city, then fucking realize Los Santos is Los Santos, not any other city. The people here too. They’re themselves, not them.”

He chewed his lip, eyes casted downwards. Nino did not say more, other then offering his phone number as a parting gift.

Maybe, just maybe, but wishfully, his actions and words were enough for his family heist crew to gain an ally. It would help them to stress less on their hopes on hitting the big vault. And truth to be told, as much as he would love to participate in any bank heist with Lang and Tony, he did not believe he was suit to participate when it comes to the vault. It was not his priority anymore.

Yuno lay on his bed, phone in hand, thumb hovering on a contact he got from his first car chase. The driver had forced him to have it as a meeting gift of sorts.

He wondered, and wondered, and wondered…

Chapter Text

“This is a bad idea. This is a bad idea.” 

“... Uno. Mate.” Dundee deadpanned. “You called me.” 

“I know.” Yuno rubbed his face. “I shouldn’t have called you.” 

“Then why did you fucking call me then?” The Aussie lockpicked the Bison. He got inside and started to hotwire the local car, not before unlocking the passenger door for Yuno to hop in. 

“I should’ve stick to my regular day job.” 

“Uh huh.” He disbelieved him. He learned it from experience. Once you started to do crimes, the lifestyle would never go away. You could try, but it would take a lot of will power to change it. The young man’s first accidental illegal delivery run and the car chase with him was the trigger to start committing to the crime life. “Lies.” 

“... Maybe?” 

“And there you go. Now you’re being a little honest to yourself.” Dundee hunched down to hotwire the vehicle. He cursed when he felt a little sting on his fingertips. He had hotwired who knows how much cars and motors for a lifetime. With how technology had advanced tremendously in the past years, so does the difficulty of stealing newer vehicles. Sports cars were worse. They needed additional devices for the hotwiring process, and they were charged for quite an amount. “So, welcome to Dundee’s crime course, one-oh-one. You’re signed up to my group?” 

Yuno took out his phone and checked the job center. “Yup.” 

“Perfect. First lesson of the day, stealing a car. Sounds simple, but it’s hard.” 

He held out his lockpick. “Lockpicks. They’re the most important item in your daily Los Santos crime life. How do you use it? You just learn it. I am not your fucking tutorial guide. You have one?” 

Yuno shook his head. The older tossed his lockpick to him. He got an extra in his back pocket. “Keep it. I have a spare. Anyway, after you lockpick the door, the next thing you should do is to try rev the engine with your lockpick. Maybe it works, maybe not. If you can't lockpick it, hotwire it.” 

Dundee gestured Yuno to look at his handy work. “You see how all the wires are grouped even before I fiddled with it? Just remember these bunch of wires on this side is the first group, the other two on the other side are the second group.” 

“... What does those wires-” 

“It doesn’t matter,” Dundee cut him off. “They’re for the battery, ignition system, motor, yah da yah da yah da it doesn’t mean a fucking thing. Basically, many car wirings are similar unless you get unlucky. Now, yoink the wires from the first group, tie them together. Then yoink the other two, also tie them together, and then, tie up the two groups. Easy. You understand?” 

“Uh... huh, I think.” He hesitated. He should be good. He did not want to ask Dundee to repeat again. Plus, he could ask when he did forget it. “My memory is as small as a shriveled shrimp.” 

“Hm... right. So, two things might happen. Either the car will turn on automatically when you step on the pedal,” Dundee stepped on the gas a few times. Nothing happened. “Only fucking old models will work. Or you rev the engine with the lockpick. If it doesn’t work, find another car.” 

Dundee shoved the lockpicks into the ignition, effortlessly twisting, clutching and shifting. He then turned to look at Yuno, a smug grin plastered on his face. Yuno was the opposite. He stared at the bundle of wires. Face twisted in an uncomfortable manner. “It looks... unsafe?” 

“Unsafe? Ha!” He drove the car away from the parking lot. “You’ll need scissors, tapes, gloves, all that shit. And we don’t have that time and space to get those stuff. What’s the word? Hm... Efficiency! Yep. Efficiency.” 

“Uh huh.” Yuno doubted, but he did not question more. “So we’re going to rob a house now?” 

“Not yet. Now, it’s time for you to do a trial. We need a backup car, just in case we get into a chase, our car gets fucked, coppa dogs ruin it. See that Comet there?” He gestured to a black sport car on the side of the road. “These sport cars are quite easy to get. Try lockpicking it.” 

“Okay.” Yuno hopped off the car once the Australian pulled over behind the Comet. He smashed the window and unlocked the car. He was not going to use it on the door - it would be embarrassing to break the tool on a door despite being a newbie. Also, why not not use the lockpick when you could open it without any tools? He held out the lockpicking set, a bunch of weirdly shaped tools and a thin L-shaped tool attached with a rather long cord. He supposed that the latter was to apply pressure to the lock, but paired with which shaped tool though? Straight or wiggly? 

He let sixth sense took over him. He selected a rather straight one and inserted it with the other tool in one go. He slowly rotated them, and with an excessive amount of luck, he heard a little click. Rotated more, another click, the display on the dash board lit up. He rotated it further, and the engine roared to life. 

Yuno rolled down the window the moment Dundee rolled up. “Got it?” 

“Yup.” 

“Good. Now follow me.” 

Yuno anxiously tailed the Bison. He could not help but notice how actually good Dundee was at driving. Not the follow the road rules kind of driving, but how he was able to attack corners without breaking a sweat and the racing lines he took. Sitting in the passenger seat a few days ago was a surge of adrenaline pumped through his veins, but witnessing by following him was the realization. He had a few hard times of keeping up, but Dundee slowed down for a couple of times for him to catch up. 

Finally arrived outside the house they were told to rob by the client, they exited their cars. Dundee gestured to the house with his thumb, a two-story house with two expensive looking vehicles parked outside. “Vinewood houses are one if not the best houses to rob. The chances of finding good items are higher than the far south and far north. Come ‘ere.” 

Dundee strode towards the house as if he was the owner of it, the younger man behind. He watched as he effortlessly broke in with his spare lockpick. The blonde turned around and placed his pointer finger on his lips. Then they both went in and closed the door. 

Yuno gave away a little  eep  when the Aussie took out his gun and shot at the little machine on the wall, sparks of electricity emitted from the damage. “Disable these little fuckers then we’re all good. Now that the coppa dogs won’t show up right now, we can take our time take whatever the fuck we want. But not too much. Our trunk don’t have too much space.” 

He left Yuno alone after he finished his sentence. Seeing that Dundee was covering the ground floor, he took the stairs and went up. 

“This is really a bad idea.” Yuno whispered, while turning the door knob of the door furthest away from the stairs. He supposed it might be the masters’ bedroom. He sighed. “I’m too far deep now.” 

The room screamed expensive. Too expensive for his own taste. All he saw was velvet fabrics over velvet fabrics, premium wood furniture over premium wood furniture. How much did the owner earn? What did he do for his career? Curiosity took him over and he started to eye the picture frame on the bedside table. 

A family of five, two middle aged men and three beautiful sons and daughter. A little love note was placed beside. Someone named Daniel S. confessing his love to Mack E.. It was sweet. Yuno gave out a sweet smile. The clattering from downstairs wiped his expression away. It reminded him that he got a job to do. 

He crawled down and peeped underneath the bed, and accidentally inhaled bits of dust, the only items hidden. He gave out a few coughs to get out the dust off from his system. He then walked around the room and opened every drawer he was able to open. Pieces of jewelry, cologne, that was what all he would only take, and he took only the rather not really nice-looking ones. Taking all of the precious items would be horrendous. Who knew what those items meant for them? Wedding anniversaries, a gift from a good friend, or even a deceased one. He hoped that they would not be too disheartened by the robbery. 

He took an expensive handbag from the daughter’s room too. It was placed at the top corner of the shelf, covered in layers of dust. He supposed it was the least from the handbag collection she cared about. 

Yuno rushed out the house and towards the Bison, eager to finish the job as soon as possible. Dundee had loaded the stuff he snatched, now sitting comfortably inside the vehicle, radio blasting with some old school rock. The items ranged from cleaning supplies to phones, PSP… a microwave? He was not questioning it. Nope. Not at all. He dumped in his stolen goods and immediately went to hop in the car. 

“You got anything good?” Dundee stepped on the gas. 

“I think so.” He buckled his seatbelt. His heart was still beating fast from the crime he just committed. “I… hope they wouldn’t be too upset about it.” 

Dundee scoffed. “I bet my ass it won’t even affect their lives a bit. They’re fucking rich bastards. Being broke is still a long way to even with the goods that we got.” 

“Uh huh… hope so.” 

“Mate, c’mon!” The Aussie rose his voice after he heard Yuno sulking. “We have our own bills to pay, and we just happened to be more tight with our budget. Those rich mother fuckers have too much that they can’t spend all. Why the fuck not let the precious dollarie-doos be in our hands? We need food. We need clothes. We need to pay for shitty apartments, warehouses, cars, gun! And most importantly, we need more fund to do more crime shit. This is fucking Los Santos.” 

“… It still feels wrong.” Yuno glanced outside the window, Vinewood houses after Vinewood houses they passed. How many houses have been robbed in the past? How did people like Dundee feel comfortable enough to do all those stuffs? Dundee’s words might be true. Some people did own more than enough money to fend for their own. And many were in urgent in needing a large sum of money.  

However, still, him committing crimes? 

What would his parents think about it? 

“Mate.” Dundee was soft-spoken for a bit. “If you want to back out, this is your last chance.” 

Yuno turned and looked at his criminal partner. Had Dundee always looked like that? Forehead with a few wrinkles, dark blonde hair dirty and greasy, probably have not washed it for a few days. Bondi blue eyes hardened, maybe with what he had gone through in his lifetime. What he experienced in the past actually? He dared not to ask. Irwin Dundee was a criminal, the leader of the club, a cop killer… not that he should knew all about it. 

Why had he even thought of finding him to do a house robbery anyway? 

“… I’m all right.” Yuno made himself comfortable in his seat, sliding down as if he was sitting on his comfy chair, watching his friends streaming while eating lunch, occasionally joining in Discord calls to troll his friend. He gave out a bitter smile with the thoughts of that. 

How much he had missed his friends so much. 

“You know, Uno?” He attempted to lightened up the atmosphere. “I don’t really know you. Having a car chase with the fucking ranger wasn’t really a right time to know about each other.” 

It reminded of him when he was in Lang Buddha’s Bentley. Was this a thing in Los Santos? Knowing each other in a car ride? He huffed with a tired grin. “Not really.” 

“Fantastic.” Dundee was back to his casual gleeful mode. “We can start from the ba-“ 

Sirens. 

“Fuckin – mate! Every fucking time!” He growled, while pulling over. Another speeding ticket. As much as he would want to drive of the Dundee-style, he also wanted to impress the new criminal, to show him that Irwin Dundee was someone with brains, not what his street reputation shaped him to be. 

“Turn off the engine and roll down the windows please! You dirty, dirty criminals!” 

“Garry!” Dundee rubbed his face. “Why was he not in the middle of the fucking city!” 

“… Garry, who?” Yuno prayed.  Please be another Garry. Please be another Garry. Plea-  

“Fucking Garry Berry.” 

Poop.  

“I really should get over with it.” He groaned. Had not Nino drilled the message last night? He was really pathetic, huh? Even Nino saw through him. 

“Huh?” 

“Nothing! Nothing. Really.” Yuno rubbed his gloved palms on his jeans. He bought it just before meeting up with Dundee. He could not afford to leave his finger print marks in the scene of the crime. He glanced at the hands that were gripping the steering wheel; coarse hands, slightly tanned with the amount to sun exposure. His stomach twisted with unease. 

Surely he did not left finger prints, right? The cops should not have identified who the finger prints belong in less than an hour, right? He was just over thinking. Yes, overthinking. It was just a stop for speeding. 

“Hello, hello, hello! Dundee! I heard about you. Still running away from us?” His voice boomed with confidence. “What’s all that stuff, hm?” 

A sweat dripped down Yuno’s temple. He knew.  

He regretted. He regretted. He regretted. He regretted. He regretted. He regretted. He- 

The love note lay resting on the bedside table, hand-written cursive were filled with love, each stroke taken care of with care.  

He thought he might have the right story to tell. 

“None of your business.” Dundee held up his chin. 

“It’s our business when it is suspicious.” The officer retorted back. 

“... Uh... sir?” He gained the attention of the two. Garry angled himself to get a better view of the passenger. He rose his brows, wondering how did the nice-looking kid end up traveling with the infamous Irwin Dundee. Surely he was not a recruit of the BBMC. That would be ridiculous. “Yes?” 

“What’re we pulled over for, actually? We’re kinda in a hurry.” 

“A hurry for what?” He gestured the stolen goods. “Smuggling those for a seller? Hm?” 

“No! No, no, no, officer. It’s a huge misunderstanding. A huge misunderstanding! You see,” Yuno plastered a flamboyant smile on his face, not that he realized it himself. They did not notice the trembling hands that ware out of their sights. “Our friends were robbed, so they called us to move their other valuables just in case there is another robbery.” 

Garry clicked his tongue. This was bad. The moment he got the radio call was the moment he spotted the suspected vehicle. As much as his story sounded... illogical to a certain extent, it might as well be the truth. A testimony was still a testimony after all, false or not, until proven false. 

He might be able to force them to confess they committed a crime, but that was what the only play he got. He had not had any time to inspect the house. He got no idea nor evidence to prove they were the culprit of the robbery. 

He needed good bluffs. 

“Who are they?” 

“Dan and Mack.” 

Quick to answer, no hesitation, very likely to be true. He hummed as if he spotted him telling a lie. “You sure?” 

“Uh huh.” That smile. Curse that beautiful smile of his, one that could even make the curliest of people go soft on him. Garry Berry would get those criminal scumbags no matter the price! 

“Why the microwave?” 

“W-Why would you say that?” That certainly took a weird turn. From asking verifying the owners of the house to questioning the choice of items loaded in the truck. “Microwaves are essentials. I mean, it heats up your leftovers, store microwave food, even coffee. Even coffee I tell ya. I need my cup of warm coffee whenever it gets cold.” 

“And pizzas.” Dundee felt eager to join the ridiculous prompt.  

“... Mug cakes.” Garry rubbed his chin, a drop of suspicious liquid forming in the corner of his mouth. 

“Mug cakes?” The Australian questioned. 

“You know, you make these cupcakes by adding ingredients to microwavable cups and microwave it – mug cakes.” 

“Oh.” His eyes sparkled. Maybe he could make a few for his husband. He would appreciate it. 

The officer waved his hand, wondering why was he participated in in this conversation. “Anyway, give me a moment. If I find out that you are lying-” 

Irwin Dundee was delighted. He was impressed with how Yuno delt with the officer. The expression plastered on Garry Berry’s face was something he would cherish. It was a shame that he was not able to take out his phone and capture the moment. 

He asked. It was revealed that he found out the names of the owner from a little appreciation card they left in plain sight. It made him thought of the alternative approaches to deal with petty crimes and the bastard coppa dogs. Well, he would not, but his club mates might love this little input. 

The lesson continued. He taught him who to sell the stolen items from, and little tips of being a great getaway driver. Yet some thoughts were still lingering in his mind, even after he dropped off Yuno at the apartments, him waving goodbye with a shy and uncomfortable smile. He still was not used to the crime life, he suspected. It was normal, so he did not blame him. 

An observant kid he was. He had a silver tongue, and a killer smile. Was he aware of it? He was not sure. All he knew that if he continued to develop his criminal skills, he would become a top criminal in no time. 

He hesitated to adopt him to his club or not. His nature, as far as he knew, did not suit the club. Even if he did not, he believed he still would be counted as the mentor of a famous criminal. He decided that was not a bad idea at all. 

Chapter Text

Benji Ramos was hesitant to agree to go with Dundee and the mysterious person to go hunting. It did not sound right, at least, to him, it sounded like a trap. He believed Dundee was not the person to do setups as such. Yet he went along, since they were old friends, one of the few first members of the BBMC. If it were not for how they viewed leadership differently, they would have still been in the same criminal organization.

His first impression on Yuno Sykk was not how he quite expected.

He thought he might meet a person as frantic as Dundee was. Crazy, borderline psychopathic, insane in every way. He would have not grown fond of, or interested, to a new kid if they were not similar in some ways. That was how Dundee was.

Soft spoken. Awkward. Not speaking a lot. First impression wise, he was basically the opposite of Dundee. He politely greeted the kid after he jumped in the backseat of the van. Then he listened. He watched.

There was no question that Yuno had not ever held a gun before (unless you count his experience in the other city where he went to a shooting range and decided it was not his thing at all; he hated how loud it was). Dundee had invited them to have a little hunting trip, to bond, he said. When he showed him the hunting rifle in the van – stolen, probably – and encouraged him to hold on to it, he refused.

“I don’t know how to shoot.” He said, uncomfortably eying the rifle in the Australian’s hands, shifting in his seat.

“Never hold a gun before?”

“... Nope.”

Dundee hummed in understanding. It would be a bad idea to force him to keep the gun. He deduced he was the kind of person to have to convince him to even own a gun, let alone shooting. Well, at least he could learn how to skin the animals.

“Have you thought of having one?”

“... No, not really?”

“Why?”

“... I think,” Yuno placed his gloved finger on his chin. He had made a habit of wearing leather gloves lately. He started to grew fond of this particular fashion choice. “It’s the best way to avoid being charged a lot. You’ll get into trouble having an illegal gun either way if you don’t have a license. If you don’t have one, they can’t press you any charge that involves guns. Less questions, less fines and jail times.”

“Hm, true.” Dundee nodded in approval. “But what if you’re in a shoot-out?”

“Depends, but,” he eyed the dash board. “That just means you can’t give them any reasons that you might even think of being involved in a shoot-out! Even if you’re charged the same as your friends, at least you’re being viewed as a victim! They won’t antagonize you maybe for a while. I think you can choose to go to trial if you want to too.”

“What if you need to shoot?”

“Hm...” That just hit the nail on the head. But how to define the need to shoot? And when or why there is a reason to shoot? For dire situations, like when anyone’s life was endangered, then it was the most reasonable reason to shoot someone. However, were not potential shoot-outs possible to prevent from the very beginning? Yes, it required a lot of insight and observation to be able to predict one, but to stray someone from even thinking about shooting was another issue.

He should be able to do that, no? Allegedly. He was very well aware he could get what he wanted by just speaking to someone.

“Then just don’t give them a reason to.”

“... Huh?” Dundee squeaked. “That’s impossible. If they want to shoot, they will shoot. The only counter is to shoot them!”

“But surely there’s a reason for them to want to in the beginning.”

Dundee opened his mouth then closed it for a few times. He was unable to find anything to rebuttal. Was Yuno in the right? He was starting to second guess himself.

Dundee and Yuno heard a snort behind them. The Vagos was trying to hold his laughter. "I think I know why you want to take him under your wing now.”

“Benji!” He hushed. I don’t want him to know that, he nearly blurted out.

The Filipino turned to the secret hacker. He eyed him from head to toe, then looked right into his eyes through the sunglasses. “Uno, right? Let’s play a little game call ‘what would you do’.”

“... Uh...”

“You got no gun, no weapons, no phones, no cops, no friends.” Benji paused, noting that Yuno tilted his head a bit to hear him a bit better. “There are three people kidnapping you. They throw you inside the trunk. Your hands zip tied. They drive to the mountains, take you out and point their guns at you. They threaten to shoot, asking for information of one of your closest friends. What would you do.”

“... I have no friends.”

“You-” Benji inhaled, exhaled. “Well, not your friends, but one of your colleagues. He did some nasty shit, and they’re mad at them. Will you give them the information?”

Yuno furrowed his brows. “There are... too many options.”

“Fair enough.” Benji leaned back, completely sunken into the cheap leather. Truth to be told, his descriptions were vague, so he tried to think in more detailed. “Where do you work?”

“Digital Den.”

“Oh? Oh, ho ho ho ho.” He smirked. His was not wearing his usual yellow bandana to hide the bottom half of his face. “Let’s say... imagine, imagine, that Digital Den is not your ordinary electronic shop, but involved in something... underground. That colleague that the kidnappers ask you is related to that shit. He knows he’s being watch, so he told you to do the job he’s supposed to do and peace out. You’re the fall guy. The kidnappers leak something that you link the two and two together. Now what?”

Dundee snorted. The first bit had him remembered their first adventure. “You have no idea what happed to me and Uno when we first met.”

“Huh?”

“What the fuck are you saying?”

“Later, B.” He half chuckled. “Don’t mind me champion, continue the game, I’m curious.”

“O-okay.” He smacked his lips, took his sweet time to think of an answer. “I’ll probably be honest with him.”

“Oh?”

“But!” Dundee was about to chime in to comment on being disloyal, something he disliked, before Yuno beat it to him. “I will only speak something that don’t directly incriminate me, or even my colleague.

“I don’t want to lose my job. My colleague doesn’t want to lose his job. And our owner will absolutely doesn’t want to lose his business. Technically what we do is very very legal, since I didn’t know the actual legality – is it legality – yup, legality of the job in the beginning. I am in the impression it’s absolutely legal. I might piece it together, but it’s just a hunch, so I technically still don’t know anything. I will be perfectly fine being honest with my kidnappers. The interaction between me and my colleague are very legal and we’re just being good workers. Does it make sense?”

“What if they are being irrational and threaten to shoot you?”

“I reason with them.” He said as if it was a matter of fact. “I’ll tell them I’m really honest with them, and I don’t even know what crime stuff they’re doing. I’ll tell them if they shoot me, the cops will try and link them to shooting me in one way or another. Having heat is a bad thing for crimes... most of the time, I think.”

Dundee mouthed most of the time, and nodded in agreement. Sometimes, the adrenaline of added difficulty to evade the coppa dogs were his thing. He thrived for it. Benji though, thought otherwise. What was considered most of the time?

“Then I’ll try and make an agreement with them. I’ll ensure that I will not say anything about it, and in turn, I’ll try and do anything they requested as a leverage.” He then quickly added, “something that’s not illegal, of course.”

“Brains over brawn. Okay. Okay.” He took his chance to jab at his old friend. “Something Dundee lacks.”

“Hey!”

“And, um, you said something about having heat.” Benji took off his hat. “When’s having heat is great for criminals.”

“Um... having to make a statement or something,” the two older did not noticed Yuno eyed the Australian for a brief moment. Dressed as a famous British criminal, clad in blue, walking up to a black car with four persons dressed as someone he dubbed as the greatest criminal in his generation. That was before they shot a renowned officer for giving the nines and high win rate in the court. He lied that the vehicle was white to the other officers while being questioned. “I think.”

“What you think about Uno?”

Benji was behind the wheels towards the Barrio. Now that the person of the topic was dropped off, they were able to talk freely about him. “Smarter than you.”

“Fuck you.”

“That’s the truth Dundee.” He tapped his temple and gave a cheeky grin to his friend. “Tell me something you planned that’s genius.”

“... My BBMC.” He pouted.

“Except that. There’s none. See?” He chuckled as Dundee punched his shoulder. He barely flinched. “But really, I get why do want to take him.”

“Not take him take him, to be honest.” He rubbed his knee. He ran a lot on the hills. “I don’t think he fits my club.”

“... Dundee.”

“What.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“What the fuck, B?”

“You-” Benji sighed. He felt the urge to head-butt Dundee and send him to the hospital. “The kid’s not him.”

“I know.”

“He can’t replace him.”

“I know.” He gritted his teeth.

“You should know better than this Dundee.”

“I fucking know!” He roared. He huffed and rubbed his eyes. He was not on the verge of crying. Nope. Not at all. “He’s special... They’re special. No one’s replacing anyone.”

“... If you say so.” The light turned green, he slightly stepped on the gas. He wanted more time to talk with Dundee. “Don’t fucking ruin it like you always do.”

“I don’t do that.”

“You do.”

“Fuck you.”

“Fuck you too.”

“... He’ll be back.”

“When. For how long.”

“Don’t matter. He’ll be back soon.”

“Maybe.”

“I think he and Uno would love to hang out.”

Benji scoffed in disbelieve. “You bet?”

“A warehouse.”

“... Fuck, fine. Guns. Deal?”

“Deal.”

Benji parked the van in the Barrio. He loved it when it was dawn or dusk, when the sky was clear and the setting sun granted the earth a mixture of yellow, orange and gold. It was a match for the East Side Vagos, their Barrio. It made him felt fabulous every time, and such was the time. He hopped off and walked towards his gang members huddled in a circle, not before turning back in time when Dundee was shifting towards the driver seat.

“You know, having a smart kid like him will lengthen your life span.”

“Hey!”

Bullying him was too entertaining. “I might spend more time with him and teach him a little bit about the streets just because I still want seeing you around.”

Dundee looked like as if was seething with anger, yet his eyes were in the shade of the calm ocean. “Fuck you.”

“You like fucking me too much. Where’s Barry when you need him?”

A middle finger was what he received

Chapter Text

There were a few scenarios where the owner of the business would personally come down to the store and do the chores himself when there are a number of employees under him. The owner might be a great boss and believed in sinking his hands in the boring procedures without complaint, but his certainly did not show any sort of enthusiasm, even just a little short speech to raise the morals of his workers; someone screwed up badly and he had to scold the person to make a statement in front of the others, but his had not rose his voice, nor even mentioned anything about doing the right thing.

Apparently, he came down just to find him and appointed him a rather rare task.

Jacob Harth. Yuno did not even know he was his boss until this day. He did not seem to care much about it as long as he was being paid the right amount.

A Burrito van was parked outside the store. Another delivery? He hoped not.

The stoic man handed him a clipboard with a few pieces of paper clipped onto it, with a black pen attached with a chain made from rubber band. He schemed it, flipping the pages rather quickly. “Location. Receiver. Box number. Signature... Oh Jesus.”

He shuddered at the memory of his first delivery that ended in a car chase. Had he not wished for it to be the last?

“Work of the day – simply delivery. Abandon the van after you finish. Sent a text to me. Then you’re free to go.” Jacob scrolled his phone and local shared his number to him. “Gave you my number.”

He slipped his phone out, added his employer as Jacob Owner, being the fourth contact in his phone. The others were Dundee, Nino and Benji.

He turned back to the delivery list and studied it in detail. He once again questioned the other nature of Digital Den. The names that he had to give the goods to included some… questionable individuals around the city. Ramee el-Rahman, Barry Benson, Benji Ramos, Otto-tune Tyrone...

What on earth were in the storage?

“I’ve got a promotion for you.”

Yuno turned his head, eyebrows lifted up as high as possible. “A promotion?”

“You won’t be working in store anymore, but rather directly working under me.” Jacob crossed his arms. The unnerving look he gave Yuno sent shiver down his spine. “Less working hours. More payouts. But you might risk getting caught by authorities.”

Was that a demand? He asked no question. He just simply stated his offer. What was his employer thinking, forcing him to participate in questionable activities for the company. However, first and foremost, why him?

He dared not to deny. He muttered a yes, and received a nod.

“Don’t ask what they are. You got a package as well as a gift for your promotion.” Yuno flipped to the last page of the list, and looked at the bottom of the list. Yuno Sykk. Company uniform. He did not order extra uniform, did he? Surely it was a mistake. He looked up and wanted to ask, but he was long gone.

Perhaps there was no mistake, but what was in there?

“Hey kid!”

Yuno relaxed his shoulder once he heard a familiar voice called him near the Billabong. He was glad he went there first among other locations. He was being hyper nervous the entire drive. When was he not? He looked around in hopes to find the familiar Australian around, pouted when the search was unsuccessful. When every he was around, dopamine was ensured, and he needed it. “Where’s Dundee?”

“Oh. He’s uh, having some business meeting somewhere.” BBMC’s road captain shrugged. “He said he have a genius business idea.”

“Huh. ‘M kay.” He puffed his cheeks. He wondered what type of scamming schemes the crazed Australian thought of. Well, he was not that familiar with the guy, there was no reason for him to dig his nose into his business.

He felt the van rocked back and forth due to the change of weight, with the members of the motor club unloading their packages. He hopped out of the van and grabbed his delivery list, double checking to make sure they got their own, and not mistakenly claiming those that were not theirs, theirs. Precautions had to be made. He would hate to get fired and get into trouble from this stable job.

He witnessed the member with a wolf mask cut open the box, revealing a stack of familiar laptops inside. Barry Benson rose his brows behind the yellow tinted sunglasses. The way he reacted towards the laptops as if he was familiar with it, he concluded. It was hard to imagine someone new, such as Yuno, to the underground business not feeling at least an inch of curiosity to anything inside the boxes, or at least he did not seemed to be so. Then he should have a fair amount of information on these laptops.

So he tested he theory, nudging the younger with his shoulder and gained his attention. “The hacking game’s… pretty tough right now, huh.”

The kind spirited young man shrugged. What was he supposed to say? I might have nearly finished the entire sequence of the hacks. That would meant many more would seek him purely for the hacking. Arguments, competitions, conflicts, fightings, and maybe violence. He would not like that at all. What hacking? That would be a blatant lie. He was not a great liar per se, and who knew what the man would react to him lying? There was no point to doing so when he was the most knowledgeable on the hack itself… There was a fine line between being aware of things and acting like you knew everything. “It’s… using a lot of brain power.”

“Oh.” Barry was taken aback, despite the outcome was of his prediction. Still, it was hard to imagine someone like Yuno Sykk transporting, and having hands-on experience on handling illegal items. “How it went?”

“I didn’t complete it.” A little white lie, or half truths. It was impossible to finish it at all. Only a maniac would still have the energy to memorize a twelve number digits and type it out within seconds. He remembered himself short-circuited the moment the digits flashed in front of him. It was too much.

He watched as the masked member flipped the laptop open, the device stably placed on the make-shift table. He walked over and peered over his shoulder. The familiar set of words appeared on the screen.

Tick. Tick. Tick. Click clack. Click clack. Click clack. Wolfe’s breathes got even more shallow as he finally reached to the second level. How many times have he failed the red practice? Fingers could not even count the number. His gloved hand trembling. He wanted to vomit so badly.

“It’s okay.”

Wolfe turned whipped his head around. When did he stood behind him? The moment he wanted to ask, the delivery man beat him for a mere second.

“Take your time. Make sure it’s right.” Forest green eyes were glued to the monitor of the hacking device, not even making any eye contact as he was giving advices. His voice was so soft, so soothing. Had his voice always been so comforting? Both of them did not interact enough to know each other well. Wolfe briefly learned what he sounded like through his and Dundee’s conversation, but the talks were too far away and muffled by the vehicle’s windows.

“It’s just a practice. It’s alright. Having the right answer saves you more time than being fast. You’ll get faster eventually.”

“O… Kay?” Wolfe focused back on the laptop. He took a deep breath. It helped decrease his heartbeat for a while. For some reason, this Yuno guy had made him calm down quite a lot. What ever he did to him, he was glad.

“Take my time.” The BBMC member reminded himself. “Getting it right is the most important. Get. It. Right.”

Tick. Tick. Tick. Click clack. Click clack. Click clack. Wolfe and Malakai were the only hackers in the motor club, and he dared say that he was a tad bit better than Malakai. If he was not in the top of game, then who would guide the BBMC into the bank? No one.

Yuno tried so hard to suppress a smile as Wolfe reached the forth sequence of the hack. He was not shaking anymore. He barely stayed within the time limit for the first and second time, but there was improvement on the third and forth. Progress was progress. It was great, no matter how small it was. Fifth, sixth, the time remaining extended. How many did you have to do for a Paleto again? He forgot, it did not really matter anyway. He lose count on the time Wolfe hacked, but him not making any mistake made his chest warm for some reason.

Then there was it.

The screen display on completing one level of hacking.

“… I did it?” Wolfe whispered in disbelief. The laptop was urging him to prepare for the vault level, but he did not care. “I did a Paleto?”

“You did!” Yuno’s eye lit up in joy. “You did a Paleto!”

“I did a Paleto!” Wolfe widen his eyes in equal excitement, or even more. He threw his hands up and rose his voice, just enough for anyone in the Billabong to hear him. “I did a fucking Paleto!”

As much as Barry wanted to join the celebration, he could not help but think.

The road caption was an idiot, just like his husband, but he was not stupid, also just like his husband. He saw the entire interaction between Wolfe and Yuno. Their member was fairly new to the club and being a pain in the butt-hole to the society, so he would understand if he did not recognize how Yuno talked to him as if a criminal veteran was talking to a newcomer.

Who was Yuno?

The only explanation was either Yuno was too smart for his own good, or he was a retired hacker before he came to Los Santos… or he was one, and still one, except opting to stay hidden.

He inclined to believe it was the former. Everything would be much simpler. Yet the fact that how simple Yuno had guided Wolfe with just a few sentences and Wolfe, for the first time in all of the tries, completed the Paleto hack without any problem at all. For once, he did not panic, did not shake like he would fall-over any moment, did not mumble to himself of him having to be a better hacker. Wolfe looked like… a different person, after Yuno spoke to him. He looked like a reliable hacker, much more than he already was. The entire club could just trust him to do the hack, and everything would not go wrong.

Everything was not simple. Yuno, was not a simple person. He was not what he seemed to be. It must be.

He remembered how Dundee talked about how Yuno had impressed him more than he expected. He even told him of training him to reach to the top of the criminal world. Both of them would be spending more time with each other in the future.

He needed to talk to Dundee about what happened today. He deserved to know it.

There was one rule Lang Buddha followed when it involved illegal trading. If he was the customer, he preferred in completely isolated areas, namely the ship docks and open areas in the north side of Los Santos, such as mountain tops and abandoned buildings.

He bought Tony with him this time. Nino was busy. Raymond was busy. The nerds were doing their own thing. He could not contact Harry, probably still asleep. Having a driver beside him was a huge comfort. If things went south, he fully trusted him to be able to drive them away.

To be seeing Yuno driving the van was quite a surprise to him. He could see that he was still avoiding him as much as possible. Not making direct eye contact. Simple nodded to the both of them as a greeting. At least we was not shaking as he anticipated. Was he growing a spine. He did not care. He just wanted his tools and equipments. And most importantly, the laptops.

“He’s the fucking Cheat Code, Lang.” Nino dragged his cigarette. “He might not admit it, but he didn’t deny it. He has to be.”

“So?”

“That kid’s our best chance to hit the vault.”

“What about me and Ray?”

“How long will it take you two to prepare?”

Lang pulled out his box of cigarettes from his back pocket, no longer uttering another word.

Tony hated the silence. He eyed his long-time friend before scooting over to the Digital Den employee. “What’s your name kid?”

“… Yuno.” He handed the signature slip to the Italian. His name was also in the delivery list as the alternative receiver, so his signature would equally work with Lang Buddha’s. The racer hummed. So this was why Lang was not his usual cheery self. The very-much-probably-was-absolutely-was Cheat Code was in front of them. This was an… interesting circumstance. He held out his hand while the other took the slip. “Tony Corleone. Nice to meet you kid.”

“You too.” He took his hand with a faint smile on his face. Not of friendliness, but of politeness, Tony noted. The smile did not reach his eyes at all. He was avoiding as much eye contact as possible, and his body was leaning a tad bit the opposite of where he was standing. He was scared, but for what? “Can we have a bit of product testing before we sign it?”

“Uh… sure? Sure.” Yuno backed away, giving them space. Tony mused, believing he was smart enough to let the customer handle the goods themselves, while being close enough to do anything just in case they were to sabotage the goods and blackmail the providers for any reasons.

In reality, Yuno was not planning on getting involved in anything another than finishing his job and get back to his apartment.

Lang, well, he was still in his own head that which involved a certain person.

The not-so-secret-hacker watched as Tony slipped his pocket knife out from his boot and flicked the blade out. He glided the blade across the tape seal, and opened the box. He took out something that was shaped like a tube, coated in black paint. His heart skipped a bit when he saw a laptop was amongst the items. He suppressed the urge to groan out loud. The laptops are haunting me so bad.

He did not notice the millionaire flickered his eyes towards him.

Seeing now how the once laptop thief was involved with Jacob Harth, he doubt that he could escape the business by his own will. Jacob was a ruthless underground criminal. Information was everything. Networking was everything. Communication was everything. Manipulating, blackmailing, deceiving, that was his life. Everything was for his own personal gain. If he saw something special within Yuno Sykk and decided to indirectly take him as his lackey, it was either he stay, or die. It was to noted that to gain any sort of approval from the man, it required said person to have high intellectual and worth. How smart was Yuno Sykk? What could he offer to any criminal in the city? If he really was the Cheat Code as Nino insisted, there must be something more than just hacking he had. What was it that Jacob knew that Lang did not.

All that aside, was Nino in the right, that his crew really needed Yuno with the heavy assumption of him being the Cheat Code?

“Look, Lang, banks are fun, I admit it, but it… this, isn’t my focus anymore. I can do businesses, legal or not, car boosting, marijuana planting, all that shit, but not banks anymore. It’s now the riskiest job and I intend to stay out of trouble to keep the family running. You know what I mean?”

He was right, but he would not said it out loud. He could convince himself that the nerds were the spine of the family, but having one more person to not constantly running away from cops was more beneficial. And with banks being more dangerous, he could not blame Nino for bailing out and insisting to hire a hacker and do the vault as soon as possible before the security company decided to up their game.

However, now was the wrong time to ask the kid about it. He still needed to speak with Raymond. The family heist crew needed an all pass before planning on offering Yuno Sykk to be their hacker.

“Buddha.” A hand waved in front of him. The dark skinned man swatted Tony’s hand with a scowl on his face. “What?”

“You alright?”

“I..” Lang sighed, squinted his eyes and furrowed his brows. He could feel a headache was about to form. “What you think about the kid.”

Tony clicked his tongue a few times, loading the ordered goods in the stolen van. The delivery man was long gone, Lang just noticed. How long was he zoning out? “He seems like a good kid. Too kind for doing this job.”

“Can you fucking believe Nino is so sure that he’s the fucking Cheat Code.”

“Maybe. Who knows?” Tony shrugged. “Los Santos’ full of surprises.”

“True. True.” He nodded, arms folded in front of his chest. “… Is Nino right? Me and Ray are just wasting our time?”

“Maybe.” Tony said again. There was too many unknown variables. The Costa Rican was the most logical among them, so they could not blame Nino for putting doubt on how Lang and Raymond might be wasting their time practicing the hack. Heists were jobs, were businesses, keeping close with your family or not. Sometimes only relying to those strictly within the circle might hurt the long run. “We can try. That Yuno kid… he won’t fuck with us, I think. I think I’m sure? He’s too nice to even curse.”

Lang snored. He remembered the car ride to Yuno’s apartment the first day they met. It was true that he was socially awkward, but his response was so comedic when he joked about his massive manhood. Easily flustered. Perhaps the only person in Los Santos who would not even curse. Even if he approached him regarding the hacking, worse case was just a decline, and nothing more.

For once in a long time, maybe it was time to gain more new members aside from the trigger-happy Russian.

Yuno rubbed his face in exhaustion. The box that was specifically for him was a laptop inside. Another laptop. He eyed the green and black themed laptop with a mixture of emotions. His life in the city if it was not about a laptop, it would be another laptop. And that, was not just a simple laptop.

That was not just it. It was what was inside it had his brain went haywire.

A little sticky note was attached on the screen. User name: admin_two. Password: CheatC0de.

His boss knew. His breath hitched. Though, what was the memo for? He searched for the answer after he turned on the computer. He would be lying to himself if he said he was not impressed by the interface of the laptop. It was themed with black background, with characters displayed in green color. He did not have to login. Perhaps that was for any sort of software? Website? He found a software icon that should not, generally, theoretically, exist in any new laptop. There was a browser software and a transparent rubbish bin icon. Then there was the other icon with a purple background and a little bowl hat logo in the middle. There was no any name under the icon either. He double clicked it, and the contents that popped out gave him goosebumps.

A lot of illegal good that were available for purchase was in front of him. Guns, bullets, silencers, thermites, high-functioning trackers, laptops. He hummed, “so that’s where they buy them here huh.”

How convenient. “What’s this little tab slouching in the corner… oh, so here’s where I type in the stuff… Oh.”

Oh indeed.

There were some addition information in every single corner of the website – who was the provider of the product, the highest bidder of said product. No just any nickname and username the the user chose to, but the legal name of the user. He could see several familiar names including Irwin Dundee and Lang Buddha. There were also their phone numbers, state ID, affiliation (if there was any)…

What did that meant? There must be reasons why he was given access to the dark web as an admin. Who was Jacob Harth?

… Of course. His reasoning might be a stretch, but it was believable in every way. He was the latest recruit in the company, so why chose him to be the delivery guy? He had to have done something, a criteria that he met to fit the role, and that it had to be connected to Digital Den to a certain extend. He could not think of anything other than him keeping the practice laptop for himself and not snitching to the police department afterwards. He should had unknowingly helped gate keep the existence of the device within the criminal circle. Digital Den was not without surveillance cameras, so he should have known through watching him. That said, he was considered as a possible candidate.

His boss. A criminal. A hacker. A creep?

Yet, how did he connected his alias that he inputted after he was nearly finished with the lower vault hack? He shook his head, refraining from thinking further. It did not really matter. It was certain that he could not back out from the dark web business; not directly, but still, involved. What choice he had? He had none.

He turned off the laptop, feeling a severe headache forming. What luck he had? Was it faith? He tried to avoid all those things from the very beginning, yet they all somehow managed to find him in every way. Maybe Nino was right, he had to deal with reality... he was absolutely right. It was time to change his mindset.

Easier said than done, but for once in a long time, the slightest ember were there, his eye glowing in the most beautiful shade of green with a hint of honey. And for the briefest moment, the memory of him being a streamer was thrown into the depths of his mind.

Chapter Text

Irwin Dundee’s eyes sparkled in interest after his husband informed him of the little scenario between Yuno and Wolfe. He knew that Yuno was smart, but not that smart. He could barely even finish seven times in a row, and that was just once! He called it a victory, but not enough to hack the bank.

“Imagine him being the BBMC clutch hacker.”

“Dee.” Barry narrowed his eyes, “being a hacker isn’t enough, and you don’t even know if he’s hacked the bank before.”

“I know husband,” Dundee whined in his usual fashion. He knew that Yuno did not fit into his club in a lot of ways, and that inviting him to even be a hang around of the BBMC solely for being a (possible) hacker would meant disrespecting Wolfe and Malakai, their only hackers in the club. It did not hurt to just imagine, did it? “Just saying.”

“Alright. Alright,” he chucked, eyeing his partner with fondness. “Oxy later?”

“Yup yup.” Dundee popped his lips. He turned around, seeing his hackers on the other side of the road, having a conversation which he was curious of what it was about. “We got more customers than usual today, so we need one more group to distribute it.”

“We take the east side?”

“And they take the west. It’s closer to the Billabong, they’ll be much safer.”

Barry nudged his shoulder. “Softy.”

He received a playful glare from the rough Aussie. “You’re not?”

“I’m a badass mother fucker.”

“And a softy.”

“Shut up.”

“Likewise.” Dundee gifted him a quick peck on the cheek. A light dust of pink spread over the both of their faces, fully aware of their public display of affection and how their heart fluttered with the smallest interaction between them. They were not newly wed, but still madly in love with each other as if it was in their honeymoon phrase, and the feeling still have not, nor will it ever, go away.

“They’ll be fine.” Barry rubbed his cheek. “They’ve done it for a while.”

“I know. It’s just…” Dundee sighed. He started to head towards his other club members, with Barry following his lead. “It’s hard not to worry.”

The closer they get nearer to the both, the clearer their conversation got. Their tone was cheery, upbeat. Wolfe’s excitement seemed to have not dulled down yet, Barry noted.

“… slowing down really helped me there.”

“Huh.” Malakai’s arms were crossed in front of his chest. “Yuno really gave you great advice.”

“Ya. I mean, logically, you should slow down, but the problem is we always forget the simplest thing under a lot of pressure. So,” the animal-masked member shrugged.

“… You think he knows how to hack?”

“Dunno. But I assume he is since he seem like familiar with the system?”

“True.”

“But it still makes you wonder if he’s experienced with the actual hacking.”

“If he is, he should have a name for himself in the streets by now.”

“True.” Wolfe toned the single syllabus curved like cursive.

Yuno Sykk remained one of the main topic of Bondi Boys Motor Club. Now that made him thought of something…

“Dee.”

The Prime Minister had a feral grin on his face. If there were not a pair of sunglasses covering his eyes, he would have seen the glint whenever he thought of something that was equally genius and stupid. “Yes?”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No! Dee, no.”

“Yes. B, yes.”

“Dee!”

Irwin Dundee was… special, to say the least. That was what potential BBMC members were to be expected if they were to devote their lives to the club. That said, tolerating his questionable – sometimes logical and thoughtful, at times, if he decided to actually use his brain and or ask for advice – decisions.

Malakai’s decision to stick with the club in the first place was due to Riley. She took care of him when he was new to the city. He stayed with her, wanting to return the favor. The bonds he made with the other members were a surprising, yet pleasant bonus.

Wolfe on the other hand, started with helping them doing oxy-runs and cleaning dirty money in the beginning. It turned to being involved in more dirty work, meaning, disposing unconscious bodies, or corpse, the unfortunate souls that crossed the club members in the wrong way and they had to deal with them. For some reason he started to hack banks for the them. One thing lead to anther, now a patched member of the club. He was proud to call himself the main hacker of the club.

Both of them bonded over their overlapped role in the club. They would often discuss the security changes of the banks. What was the best strategy to approach the hack. What might they expect of the new security update from the previous changes. They were the experts in the club. The others do not have to announce it.

Then, there was the day when Wolfe finally completed the Paleto practice hack.

It was not their first time seeing the Digital Den employee. They met him when he first delivered their orders, unknowingly, to them in the Billabong. There were not much to say about him. The interactions were not enough to make any solid first impressions.

Now that they were ordered to bring Yuno to the run, Malakai’s official first impression of Yuno was… who the fuck was he?

Where was the Yuno Sykk that Wolfe described him as a calm and level-headed person? Where was the Yuno Sykk that Dundee described as an impressive person and a crime prodigy? He did not look like one.

Their Prime Minister told them to pick up the guy before starting their oxy run. What was the reason? He did not bothered to question, and Wolfe was too excited to even ask. Yuno was waiting in front of the apartments, dressed with a questionable sense of fashion. Glowing shoes? A white collared shirt under a zipped up hoodie with a cheap fabric? And a nasty old cap on his head. What was this weird sense of fashion choice?

“At least the cops won’t figure out it’s me with how different I look.”

True, but still…

He found it hard to chime in to the chatter between his fellow club member and the stranger. It seemed that their conversation was not finished the other day. It was still banks, hacking, laptops. It was not that he was not interested in the topic per say, he was not able to match the energy both of them were emitting. It was until Yuno asked on how oxy running typically works, he was able to jump into it.

It was then he started to understand why Dundee held some sort of fascination towards him, and that his impression of him turned from being a weirdo to an intellectual person.

He was quick witted that Malakai had to spend a few moments to comprehend his smart comments. He was humorous in his own way, or perhaps his charisma itself had already swarmed into whomever he interacted with, meaning him too. He wondered how he was raised that shaped him as such.

“You wanna come and hack a Fleeca tomorrow?”

“Huh?”

“Huh?”

Yuno was startled, and Malakai was beyond panicking. Was Wolfe not aware of how rare Dundee took outsiders for any sort of jobs these days. Yes, it was a new kid that Dundee have obviously started to favor, but that did not meant any member other than the prime minister have the authority to invite them; especially when it involves huge jobs.

He pulled Wolfe to the side with a hard tug in the middle of their oxy run. He whispered harshly into his ear with gritted teeth, “what are you doing?”

“You heard it!” He too lower his voice. The college dropout watched afar with confusion shown in his eyes.

“You could at least ask for Dundee’s permission.”

“He would allow it either way!” He gestured to said person. “It’s him!”

“That’s against the new protocol.”

“When’s Dundee never breaking the rule even if he’s the one who came up with them?”

Malakai opened his mouth, and closed it back, unable to find any form of answer. Dundee did let his members bend the rules as long as it was not harming the club in any way. He sighed, and tugged his club member towards the van with poor Yuno being left alone for a moment.

“Sorry Yuno.” He combed his hair with his right hand. “You ran into any problems?”

“Nor really, but…” He eyed the trunk of the van with an indescribable expression. He swiftly paid attention to the direction he was looking, fearing for the worse, yet what he saw had his heart skipped a beat not from horror, fight, not any of those emotions.

Their oxy goods were all gone, replaced was a few stacks of hard cash. That was more than the amount they were selling.

“How did you get those?” There was no way Yuno made this much during their little conversation.

“I…” Yuno fumbled with the hem of his shirt. “Sold it?”

“Double the amount of what we can sell?”

“… They said it’s a tip.” Yuno said as if customers giving tips to oxy sellers were as normal as it could be.

“… A tip.”

“Uh huh.”

“Did they asked for any information on us?” Malakai rushed his words.

“No.”

“Offer them something?”

Yuno scrunched his brows. “Why would I?”

“Then,” Malakai straightened his back, reminding himself to not panic and stay clam. “What happened… what you and the customers exchanged, actually.”

He hummed, bulging his cheeks. “We just… talked, they kinda said I look like a nice guy or something like that and just gave me the tips? Not much happened really.”

“They just… gave you, extra cash.”

“Uh huh.”

“Without anything in exchange.”

“Uh huh.”

Malakai doubted it. Yet with how sincere Yuno was, it was hard to not believe it. However, it was extra cash, he could not complain. He supposed he could let it slide, unless something would happen in the near future that would be tied to this oxy run.

“So, uh… about the bank-“ 

“- we can’t really ensure if you can come with us if you want to.”

“It’s okay. I understand.”

“You do?”

“Uh huh.”

“Can you… really hack?”

“I… I’m not sure. I haven’t hacked a bank before.”

“Wait? What! Really? Then how did you-“

“It’s just common sense. I mean, it’s like using a typewriter. You can’t mess up or you’ll risk using a new piece of paper and type it all over again. It’s just similar to the hacking… I think. It seems like it.”

He held the small bottle of oxy in his hand, the other dialing a phone number. An ear piece was connected with his left ear. A soft laugh left his mouth on hearing the statement of never hacked a bank before and comparing the hacking game with using a typewriter.

“You hear that?”

“Loud and clear.”

“Bet he choke or nah?”

“… He might, but I’m willing to bet he’ll crack it.”

“Oh?” His toothy grin revealed two gold front teeth. “That’s a pretty high praise from you, GM.”

He heard a huff through his earpiece, along with a sharp static followed the speech from the person on the other side of the phone. “I can smell an intelligent being as same as us from a mile away. It was a shame that we have not heard of him until he decided to give our mini game a go.”

“It is.” He gave attention to the earpiece for the briefest moment, already moving from the topic of bank heist to a Irwin Dundee. “The plan, sir?”

“… We wait. It was too early.” A click of a lighter. A huff, and a puff. “Bank hacking is just the beginning. We need hackers from this city that’s more than just a bank hacker.”

“Sir,” he turned off his earpiece, their conversation were no longer relevant to what he wanted to hear. “Do we still have time for it.”

The chuckle sent a shiver down his spine. The Game Master never did such thing, as much as he could recall. “Time, you say…

“We have plenty of it to wait for the birth of a real hacker in Los Santos.”

Chapter Text

Sam Baas was having the hardest time of his life. The Chief of Police was a daunting job; managing the entire department, keeping them in check, dealing with multiple difficult cases.

Having signs of someone attempting to break into their computer system was highly alarming. It was a relief the person was not able to gather any highly sensitive information, but all that meant that the entire Police Department had to improve their security system.

His office was abruptly slammed open. He did not have to look up to know who it was.

“Pred.” He groaned.

“Sup Baas!” Ever the energetic one, perhaps too energetic. “Soze just told me about all the hacking shit.”

At least he was not the only high command that was involved with it. “Did he say something more?”

“Uh… no?” He shrugged, sitting on the couch and made himself comfortable. “With the looks of it we’re fucking doing the shit by ourselves.”

“When’re we not dealing all the shit?”

“True.” Kyle Pred cracked his neck. “Anyways, I think we should prioritise telling the others in the next PD meeting so they’ll be aware of the internet security, all that shit.”

“I… don’t think it would be the first priority.” He rolled his chair towards the stack of files behind him, a shelve full of dozens and dozens of files. He slipped out a thin one, with details regarding the current discussing issue. “The war on narcotics are doing extremely well, number of recruits are rising, more chase success. Our morals’ never this good for a while.”

“But that doesn’t fucking mean we can’t tell them to stay alert on this matter.”

“… Not yet.”

“Then when.” He pressed.

“After we find someone to upgrade our security.” He scanned the leaflets that were attached inside the file. Top technology companies and top coders. A few of them responsible for changing the bank system. Funding was the hugest issue. “It will cause less panic among the ranks. And we aren’t cyber professionals. Can’t do anything at all.”

Pred huffed. He and Baas were not in the best of terms, nor were in the worse. There were things the sheriff let it slide, and this time, he was willing to do so just because he was not sure of how to approach it. Still, if it were him, he would push it as hard as possible. It was not a joking matter after all. Time would tell their next action.The cyber attack was the first one he encountered since his career of being an officer. He had a feeling something huge would happen in the near future regarding this incident.

“Fine.” He kicked his feet on the couch, receiving a glare from the equally high ranking officer. A change of topic was needed. “Are you aware of the thing called a practice laptop among the criminals?”

“Yes.” The bald man dropped the documents he was holding. “What about it.”

“Have you ever seen what was inside it?”

“No. Why?”

The sheriff pulled out his phone and turned on his notepad. He read the contents on a specific section in the illegal item. It was not a secret of how it worked since someone snitched on what was needed for breaking into the bank. A cadet from the BCSO found the laptop from an arrested criminal, and that the update as told by his colleagues intrigued him.

Mini game:

1. Cheat Code – Level Lower Vault (66.6%)

2. Vulture – Level Upper Vault (80%)

3. Goblin – Level Upper Vault (40%)

4. Shankz – Level Upper Vault (40%)

5. RayCer – Level Paleto (100%)

“The Vulture has to be Ramee.”

“I mean, who else calls himself the fucking Vulture other than him.” Pred shrugged. “And I’d imagine Randy’s among the names. They aren’t really secretive when they’re fucking robbing backs.”

“He’s RayCer? He’s a good driver.”

“Maybe.” Pred held his chin with his pointed finger and thumb. “Some other possible names I can think of based on the records and reputations are Jean Paul, Lang Buddha, Nino Chavez, Benji Ramos… what’s the punk’s name again? Body? Bodhi Mack?”

“Who?”

“Some new Vagos little shit.”

“Huh.” Baas pulled out the MDW profile application on his computer. The individual was not tagged as a Vagos member despite countless reports than indicated they were indeed related. He quickly updated his profile. “Any more names?”

“Hm.” Pred frowned. “Not that I can think of.”

“And did you just say upper and lower vault? And who’s the first in the list again?”

“You know the laser room at the bottom of the vault? That should be the lower vault. I still don’t fucking understand why we have to figure every single fucking thing when it’s something they should tell us.” He ranted. “And ya, the guy called himself Cheat Code.”

“Someone who managed to get to that level. Hm,” the bald man made a mental note to prioritize the person on this list. Imagine finding him and drilling him to give more accurate information on the matter. “That’s alarming. Now that the Paleto was broken in for a few times, it’s just a matter of time before the vault gets hit.”

“Make it at least a week. Those fuckers love to focus on one thing at a time. Talk about pop culture, when bank’s the trend, expect more banks.”

“That’s a good start, at least.” Baas leaned on his chair. His spine was turning sore from maintaining a straight sitting posture. “All we had to do is to link these names together… with evidence.”

“A pain in the ass.”

“Yet satisfying after the work’s done.”

“True.”

“… The banks’ been pretty quiet lately.”

“Uh huh.”

“Even Chang Gang, Lang and his friends, the Vagos, X and his random crews… they haven’t been doing all that stuff after the change. As much as it sounds wrong, I kinda miss a little, just a little bit of the bank chases.”

“Same.”

“But now that the banks’ not hot anymore, the hacking shit came up.” He glanced at Pred, seemingly zoning out. “One thing out, another thing in.”

“Obviously.”

“… You know, we should probably call the bank hacking to bank cracking and hacking… just hacking. I don’t want to mess up these two completely different things.”

Pred looked at the ceiling and thought for a moment. “Fair enough.”

They both did not utter another word, deep in thoughts within their own mind. While they did not admit it, they were simply using this opportunity to have a moment of peace. A huge work load was expected when they accepted the title, but that did not meant their job was not hideous and overwhelming at times.

They just crossed their fingers that the cyber attack was just a one-time event.

[Special Access Only] Bank break ins’:

1. Vulture – Upper Vault (40%)

2. Shankz – Upper Vault (40%)

3. RayCer – Paleto (100%)

4. Downbad – Fleeca (100%)

5. Flare_UP – Fleeca (90%)

Nothing ever went unnoticed through their eyes. The Game Master and his subordinates, and Los Santos’ dark web owner. They had an infiltration to plan, one that would shake the entire city like non have done before, they believed. Not in par to the level of Chang Gang huge shootouts, terrorist attracts all around the city randomly, nor serial killers on the loose. It would be far beyond.

Jacob Harth was one of the GM’s main supplier and sponsor. What he wanted, he would provide it, reasons were not necessary in this context. Income was income. That was the most important.

The project he proposed to him before the bank hacking change was too intriguing enough to not get himself not involve.

All they needed was the top five bank hackers for their little plan. An infiltration of sorts, all about stealth and bring terror. After the officials would realize what had happened, they would be long gone.

All they wanted was information.

Information was key. He knew it. The GM knew its value. They both knew it.

It was a shame he and the GM were not close enough to not know his identity.

And he was getting impatient of waiting the Cheat Code to start doing his first bank heist. Should he be glad the first group he bumped into was the BBMC? He should, as Dundee had a reputation of bringing in someone new to the scene. Jean Paul was a great example.

If Jean Paul was here, he would be one of the few best candidate for their plan.

They supposed it could not be helped.

Ramee el-Rahman, Randy Bullet. Double R. The infamous duo from Chang Gang. A jack of all trades, and surprisingly a master to all… comparing to the rest of the city. He would bet that they did not even knew what hacking was really about. That was besides the point though. They all shown talents in the hacking arts.

Yuno Sykk was simply the prodigy.

Jacob monitored Yuno’s traces in the dark web - accepting purchase orders and what parts in the web he had discovered. He spent the most time on digital gadgets, following weaponry and drugs. Though his activity strictly stuck on his job as an admin of the dark web in disguised as a electronic store employee.

All was running smooth, he did not have to worry about anything other than spectating the potential hackers and deciding whether they were ready for the job or not. Yuno could handle the business on his own.

Chapter Text

Everything will be alright. Dundee reassured him. Barry triple checked their escape plan. Wolfe would try the first few hacks until he felt like failing the rest of the attempts, so he supposed he could be the emotional support to ensure he would not be the one who hacks the bank. He did not feel like nailing the hack for some reason. A few other BBMC members were on standby. He did breathing exercises when he was waiting for them to finish setting up their plan.

“Your role today is to watch.” Dundee leaned on the docks of Dean’s World, waiting for the other two finish buying a few joints. “It’s your first time, we don’t expect you to anything, everything, flawlessly. We expect you to make mistakes, and we’re here to pick them up and correct you. It’s a… lesson, on bank robbing.”

“… Uh huh.”

“… This will be your last chance to backdown,” he scooted over a little toward Yuno, his tone softer. “You’ll get deeper, deeper and deeper, to the point it’s impossible to turn back… even more worse than a house robbery and oxy run. Are you sure you want to do it, champion?”

He was not the first person who told him nor it was the first time he had the conversation with.

Benji pulled him aside after he learned that he was going to have his first bank heist with the BBMC. He just had a quick meeting at the Billabong about gun trading with the president of the club and overheard the topic, in which Yuno, Wolfe and Malakai just returned from their oxy run.

“Kid.” He whispered, arms crossed and leaning against the staircase of the apartment building. “Are you really sure you want to get involve of this shit.”

“… Uh-“

“What about like this, what have you done ever since you come into this city.”

“Uh,” the Vago did not necessarily have to know of his involvement with the dark web. “Smuggling? I guess, usually. I did a house robbery with Dundee and I just tried an oxy run. Why?”

Benji breathed in a shaky breath. That was something be was hoping to not be. His experience was very much not enough to get involved in any high tier crimes. While smuggling was a high tier crime depending of what goods he was transporting, the nature of it and robbing banks were different. The latter one was more intense; more likely to get into conflicts with cops, higher difficulty of escaping chases, and the authorities’ attitude were harsher when dealing with bank robbers, believe it or not. That was just how the city functioned.

And the last thing he wanted was to see a kind kid like himself being in a possible shootout and not being able to defend himself, given the nature of Irwin Dundee. At least, not yet.

“I… I don’t think you’re ready to do it, to be honest.” He noticed Yuno twitched his finger. He was hoping he could convince him to stay out from it, but he was an adult, the final call was on him. “Not in the moment. There’s more into bank jobs than you imagine. Well, ya, the BBMC have been to bank jobs before, you’ll get know how to do the job, but they can’t protect you the entire time when shit happens. You know what I mean?”

His eyed downwards. “Uh huh.”

Benji gave out a rather loud sigh. It seemed like his mind was made. “Why did you want to do this shit exactly.”

He huffed with a side grin, an expression he never seen before, forest green darker. It was not something he expected to ever plaster on his face. “You won’t understand…

“Not even for someone like you and Dundee.”

“… Yes.”

For his own sanity’s sake, starting going to bank jobs would be the best option for him.

Easier said than done.

Everything was a blur. The next thing he knew, he was already in the bank, looking over Wolfe’s shoulder, watching him completing the hack.

He choked.

Yuno patted his back. Wolfe needed the comfort. “It’s okay. You got more tries-”

“Does it have… limit tries, or something?”

His question earned a snicker from Wolfe. “Tries? You think this’ a video game or something? Nah, we usually get to try as much as we can until the cops get impatient.”

“… Okay.”

“-we get some time until we figure it out.”

“… Yeah.” The wolf-masked man took a deep breath. “It’ll be alright. We got this.”

He continued.

He failed twice. Thrice… More. Choking.

Choking hard.

“I-I-I-I-I can’t. I can’t do this. I can’t. I can’t.” He stood up, almost knocking Yuno down. “Yuno, can you take over? Fuck!”

He chewed his lips and gulped. It was bad. Everything had gone bad. He faintly heard the increasing sound of sirens and the shouting from Dundee and Barry. Where was Wolfe? He did not know. All he could reminisce was that he was the only one left to hack.

Focus, Yuno, focus.

You’re the key.

He tried to shake off the insecurities and worries that could cause him the hack.

You have to succeed. The money they put into it, don’t waste it. Ace the hack.

The trust and expectations they put onto you, don’t fail them.

Numbers, numbers, shapes, shapes, letters, colors… rectangle!

Who’s the voice outside the bank… he sounds familiar, the one who chased him and Dundee the first day they met… Ah, Conan. Another familiar voice…

Blood rushing towards his brain. Pupils dilating.

Clutch it clutch it clutch it-

ACCESS DENIED.

Deep breaths. Deep breaths. One more time. One more time. He will get it.

Just like in his past life.

THE SYSTEM HAS BEEN BYPASSED.

“Y!” He felt Wolfe embraced him with a tight hug. He vigorously shook him back and forth. “You did it Y! You did it!”

He felt joy. Immense joy. It had been long since he felt such way during his days here in Los Santos. Maybe he should have done it from the beginning.

Yet there was something missing.

What was it?

What was it?

Was it the people? No, it should not be. Yes, he was still… yearning, to build close relationships to not just the group he was hanging around with frequently for the mean time. All BBMC members were fun to spend time with, and he looked forward to do more stuff with them more. He wanted to meet and get to know the others in Los Santos. That was his new goal, and that was not the thing he felt like he was missing.

What was it?

What was it!

“We gotta go.” Barry patted his shoulder and whispered, a stuffed duffle bag swung around his shoulder. “The fucking cops’ starting to fume.”

He followed his lead and hopped inside the four-door, with Dundee in the driving seat and Barry acting as the navigator. A Fleeca was considerably the lowest paying bank, anything more than a four-man-group was not advisable. And standbys were just standbys. That was not important to him. At least, not for the now. Dundee has proven he was one of the best escape drivers around.

His brain was occupied with the awful feeling of nothing figuring out the question.

Not the people. Not the plan. Not the pressure. Not the cops.

It must be something that he was doing…

He leaned towards the right as Dundee drifted on a tight corner and gave out a little yelp. He experienced his driving skills firsthand for a few times, yet he was still not used to his rather violent driving style, bumpy and all. A look at the rear mirror, he spotted at least six CVPIs and an interceptor.

Was that a sleek-top joining the chase just around the corner?

There was another interceptor approaching in front of them!

“How on earth are there so many cops chasing us!”

“That,” Wolfe trailed. “Might be because of our tendency of shooting cops?”

Yuno eyed what were the other three were wearing. They were in their club jackets, and the two higher ranked members covering their lower face with a bandana, which barely conceal their identity given a signature mullet topped with a beanie plus the road captain’s cap and sunglasses.

Oh Jesus.

His oversized suit made him an odd ball among the others.

“It’ll be fine.” Dundee did a maneuver in attempt to juke the closest cop car. It crashed into the pavement of the intersection. “I had more coppa dogs chasing me before and I rarely get caught by them.”

“Meaning unless we fucked up, flipped the car, and get on a marathon competition.”

“Husband!”

“What! That’s true!”

“The thing about Dundee, right?” Wolfe made a poor attempt of keeping his coming comments out of earshot. The Aussie’s ears perked up in curiosity. “Whether or not we’re able to get out of it depends on his mood. And he’s in a good mood plus had an argument with the cops… he’ll probably ram them out of spite-“

“Hey!”

“-or now that he heard what I said, he’ll just drive away.”

“Wolfie!” Dundee whinnied.

“I vouch he tells the truth!” His husband added fuel to the fire.

“Pfft!” His shoulders were no longer tense, eyes crinkled under the motorcycle helmet. I was moments like this he would cherish, the comedic-like relief during a tense situation. It reminded him of the light banters between his friends from… outside the city.

Sirens continued blazing. It was hard to keep track on whether some officers were out of the chase or did some joined in. Although it seemed like they were slowly gaining advantage as an interceptor collided with an irresponsible driver. He could imagine the curses the officer cast upon that driver. Two CVPIs was forced to stop pursuit as they too crashed into them.

“Three are out!” Wolfe and Yuno synced. They eyed each other and gave out a slight laughter. They were at ease, knowing well with how things were going, Irwin Dundee was going to send them home.

Speaking of which. “How’s our profit?”

“We got around, uh… I think around two hundred total.”

“… In thousands?”

“Yup.” Barry replied. He turned around, facing the younger two as much as possible. “And guess what, we got a dongie.”

“What!” Dundee wailed, nearly loud enough to shatter eardrums in a contained area. “I thought they’re long gone!”

“Apparently they’re back.”

Wolfe’s attention was split between the chase and the reappearance of dongles. “Then why can we hack the bank without the dongles.”

“Hm. Never mind that first,” the road captain hummed, focusing back on the chase as he sensed the increasing stress of his husband. “We can talk about it after we get out of here.

Question for the BBMC plus newbie criminal – what was the dongle for? Personal question for Yuno Sykk – what was this weird sense of void that something was missing?

“It doesn’t even makes sense.” Dundee held the dongle in his hand, examining it. For a Fleeca, it should have been a blue dongle that they get after robbing it, yet the dongle they had was white in color. Was it an opportunity for a new heist? For how long Dundee and Barry have been in the city for a long time, it should be, as it was usually how the city works. “What’s the white color for…”

He transferred the dongle to Barry who gave a few looks, then to Wolfe, then to Yuno. Unlike the other members, he flicked the cover out, squinted his eyes and tried to catch whether there were any markings on item. It might be a clue.

Keyword, tried.

He did saw a few serial letters and numbers on the insides, but it was too small for him to read. Weirdly enough, there were no signs of which brand the storage stick was, which it usually have if it were a store bought one, so the dongle was a hundred percent illegal. He was not involved in the criminal circle long enough to know if the other colored dongles was also not branded in any form.

An idea formed in his minded, eyeing the prime minister with hesitation. “Is it okay if I… test it?”

“Sure” He shrugged. “Might as well use it if we don’t fucking know what it does.”

“You got a laptop you won’t use?”

Wolfe smacked his lips for a few times. He reached out for his duffle and slid out one. “I think I have another one in my apartments.”

“Are you sure?” He did not want a usable laptop got to possible waste just for his experiment. The older man shook his head insisted him to take it. He plugged in the storage stick once the electric device was turned on.

Nothing happened.

Yuno smacked his lips with furrowed brows and started to fumble with the portable computer. He noticed the Wi-Fi icon became one that resembled an incognito. Web browser? It should not have been to obvious, right?

If life was an anime, he would have sweat dropped. Sometimes things were to simple to figure it out considering what he doing was very much illegal.

Do you accept cookies or not?

Yuno pondered. Normally he should allow it to be stored in the computer since it improves browsing experience, but first, he was not actually casually surfing the web, and secondly, how should he know if it was a trick or not?

How could he get access to the source code again? It should give him answers. He right clicked the mouse pad and nothing popped up. Weird. He tried again by using all shortcut keys as much as he remembered since the one that should open what he needed did not worked either. He was certain the dongle was in the doing. Now he dared not to choose either unless he had a new and disposable laptop. He was not sure what Wolfe used the laptop for, but being the owner of it, there would be traces that could track him down, and it was not something he wanted at all.

His role of being a dark web admin increased his paranoia of being watched.

“What’s that?”

Yuno yelped and turned his head, almost head butting Dundee and possibly kissing his cheek. When did he snuck up on him! “D-d-d-d-d Dundee!”

The Aussie’s laughter echoed throughout the Billabong, following with his club members. His cheeks reddened with embarrassment, not expecting to went off guard. “I’m just… hoping to find out the source code of the website to see if it’s possible for any sort of command that’ll send the contents of our location and traces of activities that’s been done on this laptop. But I don’t think I can do it now. For some reason I can’t see any codes at all. I mean, if there’s a risk of linking anything to our thingy we’re doing, it’ll be bad bad bad.”

“So,” Wolfe cranked his hips, shifting his weight towards his right leg, eyeing the screen with curiosity. “We can’t do anything right now?”

“Uh huh.” He unplugged the dongle and handed the two devices to him. “Not for now. Normally, I should be able to find the contents, but maybe it’s the dongle that’s stopping me from doing it.”

“The code thing you just said,” Wolfe slipped the items into his bag. “Theoretically, it’s the thing that makes everything we use on our phones, computers, works, right?”

“Yep yep.”

“Is it easy to find the codes on the browser?”

“It should be.” The prime minister and the road captain were agape. They could grasp that Yuno could not do anything about the dongle just yet since it’s dangerous, but that was just it. “Just right click on the page then you’ll see ‘view source’ or something.”

“That’s all?

“Yep, but understanding the codes are a different thing.”

“You know how to read them?”

“Uh,” he played with the finger tips of his leather gloves, his cheek once again rosy. “Kind…ah?”

Wolfe whistled in admiration, raising his eyebrow. “How you learn that?”

“Google?” He said as if it was the most obvious answer, with Wolfe being completely taken back. “That easy?”

A two-note high pitched whistled gained their attention. They whipped their heads towards the direction, and it was the leader. “Boys, hate to interrupt your lovemaking session, but time is ticking! We gotta lay low before we do our next big thing, the fucking dongle can wait. Dip dip dip! Also, get a room!”

They both yelled after his name while he dragged his husband towards their home, just right inside their territory. He would be lying to himself if he was not finding every opportunity to fluster the both of them in the near future. He would be receiving questioning looks if the both target knew his intention. And first and foremost, his plan on corrupting Yuno Sykk.

Chapter Text

Chang Gang were… Chang Gang. Ruthless. Merciless. The harden gangbangers. The top criminal organization in Los Santos, according to words on street and papers from the PD.

To them, Yuno was simply the driver that delivered them the goods.

Just a no one.

That extended to how they treated him. They usually treated those with high street value respect if it was too returned to them. Their interaction were kept to the least. Professional. Supply, then dip.

Unless they were high on drugs and went full small brain syndrome.

He was hoping he could leave the area as soon as possible.

“Aye yo sup boy Yuni. Yun? Uno? Fuck it whatever.” The Arabic speaker swung his arms around his neck, causing him to flinch with the sudden contact. He caught on the white powder near his nostrils and wide blown pupils. His weight was pressed on him and he felt like stumbling with the gangster’s unstableness. He was so cracked out he could not even register the name tag on his uniform. He winced in pain with the pinch of his cheek. “Doing your daily delivery again?”

“Uh huh.” His voice came out as high pitched under the stress. What have he done to deserve such treatment? He would very much love to shake off the person.

In the distance, he observed his yet another stolen van which the others were unloading the goods from. Their order was massive this time. Having plans perhaps? He registered the few individuals – Randy, Vinny, Uchiha…

And one very harsh-looking Kebun strolling towards his way. He was fortunate his glare was directed to the man behind him.

“Leave the poor boy alone Ramos.” His accent was a mixture of an Asian country and your typical gangster linguistic utterance. “Go help the boys.”

He felt a sense of relief the moment the weight left it. His legs were already wiggling. “Yes K.”

Ramee stumbled towards his fellow members, where they playfully punched him and earning a raged yell. It seemed to be a daily occurrence since they laughed at his display.

“I’m sorry for how he acted.” Kebun looked sincere, yet a part of him told him that that was simply a diplomatic strategy to keep their supplier to not blacklist them. “He’s on his dose of SBS again.”

“… It’s alright.” He mused. There was not something he could really do. He was a pacifist, and the fact that he was surrounded by the top criminals meant conflicts were not advisable, not that he seek it though on purpose. They were the last thing he ever wanted. Silence filled them, as they watched the others to continue fooling around while doing business.

The Chang Gang leader observed the kid, leaning on the abandoned wear-house’s wall. It was not the first time he saw him, given the fact he was the one who delivered them every run. He noted of how their interactions were glued to just being a business and client relationship.

That was a no in his book. There should be some kind of familiarity if they were to become regular customers.

Plus, he was intrigued of what other illegal activities he participated, if there were any more. He also knew Jacob as he was the first few customers he had in his early years in the city. If the dark web owner had not disposed of him yet, it was either he had not done anything wrong yet, or he saw some worth inside him.

If he was just as same as the previous delivery boys, he would have been dead by now.

He wondered…

“Is business striving?”

Yuno tiled his head. “I suppose so. You’ve ordered a lot more this time-“

Kebun squinted his eyes. That would be implying that he was one of the people that managed the goods, and not just being a delivery boy.

“-there’s a lot more boxes than usual.”

He hummed. Maybe not, then.

“How’s Jacob?”

“… Who?”

“You know,” he jerked his head towards the van. “The owner of all this shit.”

All he received was a frown and thinned lips, seemingly thinking hard for his reply. Lying was the last thing he would want to do. He remembered what Lang told him before he left with the practice laptop, advising him to tell the truth unless he wanted trouble to find him.

“I... don’t know, honestly.” He tilted his head a bit, doing against the advice. “I just simply took the job. Money doesn’t make by itself.”

A little white lie and a truth. He was not sure if the both even knew each other, nor if him admitting knowing Jacob would cost his role.

Kebun hummed again, still eying him and trying to figure him out. Was he caught on giving a semi-false statement? Or was he hoping to dig more information from him? He swallowed his saliva, fully knowing the older man was aware of his nervousness. The gangster’s demeanor frightened him despite rarely interacted him for a few times.

“I know that I can be scary. I am a gang leader, a hardcore gangbanger, that I can shoot people as I wish.” He flinched from the statement. What we he going at? “But you can relax, alright kid? I’m not unreasonable, you know.”

Relax he said. Yuno fiddled with his gloved fingers. He did not know whether to believe him or not. He was, after all, a very wanted criminal.

“Uh huh.”

There was nothing he could do other than complying.

“You see my boys right there?” He gestured towards the other four. “They’re hard-working, never bullshitting, get the job done without any fucking nonsense. But, they are also a fun bunch to hang out with, so you don’t have to be scared around us.”

Fuck with us, you’re dead. You scratch my back, I scratch yours. That was the correct interpretation.

It was not an empty promise.

Never once in his life he felt this kind of subtle fear – something that was not quite there yet, but a seed was planted inside deep in his mind, yelling at him to be more aware around the man; to put up shields around himself and shelter himself away from the possible dangers. He tried to pull up a stoic face, yet was not able to keep a steady eye contact, nor was able stop his fingers from twitching. For Kebun, though, his intention was perfectly executed.

Yuno wondered how long the gang had been into the city. How much crime they had done, and how many crimes they committed. How much power were they holding within the city?

What could they not do?

It was unfortunate for Kebun that this little information seeking session was halted short as the other members of Chang Gang were calling their leader of their finished job in the distance.

Yuno gladly use this opportunity to leave as soon as possible. He pushed himself off the wall the and briefly nodded his head towards Kebun. “I’ll be going now.”

Without glancing back, he hopped into the van and drove away without a second word. If he were to have a choice, he would loved to not bump to them ever again, but duty calls, business was business, he was one of the reasons he was able to solidify his income.

Afar, Kebun watched as the van was being drove away into the dust, lips pursed and eyes sharp.

If personality types can be categorized, then so does the type of criminals.

The adrenaline junkies. The workers. The street smarts. The rats. The talkers. The brains. These were just the rough classification.

It was not that there was one that was more superiors than the others, but rather there was one certain that was quite rare among the others – the brainier the person was, the more likely the person would be in the top of the criminal world. He himself, his boys, Lang Buddha, Speedy, to name but a few. He would proudly claim that his gang was filled with all sorts of criminals, yet leaning towards the brains at the same time. That was what kept his gang being the top dog in the city.

Being a gang leader for most of his life taught him how to identify people, even if he was interacting with said person for a short amount of time. This Yuno Sykk, however, he could not really put a finger onto him. He was not talkative at all, too reserved for his own taste. It could be due to his avoidance when the topic was nothing other than business, but that was not the point.

Was he a potential ally or foe, or just some nobody? Considering his ties with Jacob, which he might have lied of their connections right into his face, but was doing the right thing regardless; he might just be in neutral terms with them. A talk with his members, especially Ramee, on how to approach Yuno was much needed.

Everyone loved heart-stoppers. If you despised it, then you have a huge – huge – problem.

The Jetty was one of the few places Irwin Dundee adored the most, aside from his Billabong. It had a great view of the ocean on the west side (but Vespucci’s was still the best, in his opinion), especially during sunset. He bit a huge chunk of his burger while leaning on the metal framed glass barrier. Yuno sipped his cup of soda in small sips, cheeks slightly sunken inward, making his feature more refined than it already was.

It caught him off guard that Yuno requested to have a talk with him. It was not long that they have met, but it was out of his character to find someone to talk to from what he gathered. He was honored to be the person he seek when there were more who were more qualified to ask for any sort of guidance.

What surprised him more was him him bringing the topic of Chang Gang.

“You should be fucking glad you’re not dead,” his words slightly muffled by the food inside his mouth, burger in hand already three quarters finished. He was tired of eating the same sandwiched for a few days straight. “You better watch your tongue and action if you don’t want to die.”

“… I know, Dundee.” He threw his head backwards, back leaning against the ledge. “I can’t really cut ties with them ‘cause of my… job.”

“You don’t have to if you’re not doing anything wrong, or even if they’re doing you wrong.” He crumbled the wrapping paper and threw it out the balcony, and would have been receiving a disapproving look from Barry if he was here. “Just don’t get real personal with them. The more you get attached to people, the harder it is to pull back. And when shit happens, everything blows up in a big bang. You get hurt, they get hurt… mostly you.”

Yuno shifted his body slightly towards the older man, and caught on a somber look, lips turned down, wrinkles seeming deepened from the topic. It made him wondered what had he gone through that shaped this man. He could guess his nature based on his leadership and… a hunch, deep inside from his memories. No doubt he was a complicated creature, a mixture of a shallow beach wave and a raging tsunami threatening to destroy everything. Nevertheless, he was thinking of why’s and how’s, a habit he was starting to develop.

He took a leap of faith and asked the forbidden.

“You’ve been there before?”

Dundee sneered, the memories of his first members of the Bondi Boys and Baes came rushing into his mind. They were the first who showed him an example of ‘Bondi until I don’t give a fuck’. It was all a shit show, a show that he planned not to be re-acted in anyway possible. Leaving the club, fine, he could tolerate that, least they could accept was a few bullets being impaled from him, but to go as far to having a gun fight with him, which was an incredibly stupid idea, was a massive middle finger to what he have done to them. “Trust me. Even to your closest friends, you still have to keep your distance to stop yourself from hurting too much.”

“… Even your club?”

He eye sided the hacker, whose eyes were bright and shinning, in contrast of his hazy ones. Too young, too pure. What was even his answer on willing to even get involved with guys like him from the beginning despite multiple warnings. A smart one he was, and plans he did made for his scheme to create one of the best criminals in Los Santos. A diamond in the rough. As much as a part of him was reluctant to corrupt him, which was already too late for that thought, when Irwin Dundee had his mind set on something, it was hard to persuade him to stray away from that. “Even my club.” He continued to observe Yuno’s body language.

“And Barry?”

Dundee huffed. He was starting to get in tune of where the conversation was going. “Everyone’s inclined to have their own secrets.”

“Especially me.”

“… Yes.” He twiddled his fingers.

“Then why’re you telling this all to me?” Yuno slurped the last drop of soda. “If you define deep talks as getting close to anyone, then why are you being… honest?”

“… Oh. Hah!” He gave out a strained short laugh, removed his beanie and tussled with his mullet. “You’re that type of guy huh? Fucking little shit.”

“Huh?”

“Don’t try to play fucking dumb, Uno, champion.” He grinned on one side, not coated with a drop of amusement. “You’re that type who pokes the bear when they know that they shouldn’t, but, still knowing what the fuck they’re doing.”

“Mh hm. I have been told sometimes.” The strangers in social media did loved to analyze his personality.

“Mate, you can’t do this to anyone. You’ll get fucking clapped some days.”

“You’re my friend, aren’t you?” A mentor, a reminder of his past, and a pillar to cling on his sanity. “You won’t hurt me unless there’s a reason to.”

“I am not as good as you imagine.”

“Not to me.”

For a long time, he had not felt this expose to this state of vulnerability. “Don’t fucking expose me man.” He rubbed his face. “I hate feeling this way.”

Yuno simply stared at him.

A moment later, when he felt there was not any more to speak, he offered the kid a ride back to his apartments. They said nothing during the ride, beside the little farewells just when Yuno left his Tulip back to his comfy home, but it was pleasant. He then drove in his usual wild drifting manner towards his turf, not the Billabong, but towards the edge of the beach that be could still get a glimpse of his area he called home. Confirming there was no one around, he leaned on the steering wheel, head resting on his arms.

He sobbed.

He hated weakness. He hated being read like a book. He hated how Yuno figured what he was just by spending time with him.

However, the other part of him was glad he was the one who confronted him among the others.

Maybe he was just a fucking clown he wanted to believe he was not.

Chapter Text

Sometimes Wolfe wondered what sort of role he played in the BBMC.

He was an untitled patched member, just like Channing ‘Chain’ Turner; the second and the third. Collin was promoted to the enforcer not a while ago. Envious, yes, he was, but he could not deny he did an incredible job in keeping the club in check when it was needed. His past private investigator experience did helped him out of being a fitting addition to the club. Sharpe eyed, practical, observant. The promotion he got was well earned.

Wolfe did aided to push oxies and meth whenever he was available or ordered to, but was it not also anyone in the club, jacketed or not, something that could handle too? What was his goal other than doing the usual chores, being in patched meetings and giving opinions when necessary, and being the hacker in bank heists? Should he not done more to provide the club? In all earnestly, he was lost. He believed Chain too, was. That was besides the point though.

It was worse when the bank heists throughout the city came into a rather hard halt. He was more confused than ever.

“– So apparently, meth demands has risen in these couple of days, but so are the distributors.” Pezz was holding his trustworthy clipboard, as usual. “It’s either we push harder, or we focus on other types of narcotics. Except that we don’t really have any other sources that we can get ay supplies, as much as I know.”

“What about weed?” Dundee chimed in.

“Still stable. Although we have to be on higher alert during the harvests or runs. I heard that there’s a weed war, shootout or whatever happened a few days ago, don’t know who they are, who’s involved. Then there’s rumors of the cops able to find more weed farms than the past few months. Someone got the fucking nines just because of that. Not surprising, but really alarming.”

Collin clicked his tongue in his usual manner, a perk he had when he was deep in thought. “But that doesn’t really affect us, no? As long as we’re careful. We don’t have any high income source.”

“Not really.”

“Then we continue to push our shit.” Dundee shifted his weight from his poor leg to his stronger one. “The bar isn’t finish yet. We can’t afford to lose more money.”

“Agreed.”

Wolfe peered his head over the younger’s shoulder, too eager to listen to the ex-programmer’s introduction to the basics of coding. It reminded him of puzzles, of mathematics. Once you knew the fundamentals, adding more brain power and creativity, you could particularly do anything with the knowledge.

It rose his competitiveness within him, being the oldest one in the room. Even if he was not able to surpass him, being an equal was enough.

What was more, what was his use if he was not consistent in his hacking? What was the point of being the hacker in his club if he could not provide them the key to open the doors of opportunity?

Cracking what the white dongle was for was important. As time consuming it was to learn coding from scratch, having someone with the right knowledge to figure it out was a mutual deal they agreed upon. A huge part of him was relieved that Dundee allowed Yuno to take in charge of it. He secretly asked if he could learn coding from him through text after (finally) acquiring his phone number, wanting to keep it from anyone besides the both of them for no apparent reason, just simply a want. Call it a hackers men thing if you may. It might be of use to Wolfe too. Who knew what surprises Los Santos would provide them and what skills was needed to face them.

Chain took the slightest pause to pitch in. “What about cocaine? I think that the market’s still there, but there aren’t many sellers, so it can be another way to push our drugs.”

“But where can we get them, if we can?” The neck goldfish tattooed rebounded, with the braided black haired woman nodded in agreement.

“There’s someone selling in the street. In bricks.”

“Fishy.”

Yuno briefly warned him what being a hacker meant. Sometimes you would find things that were not meant to be found, intentional or not. The deepest, darkest secrets of humanity would be displayed in front of you, with a few commands from the tip of your fingers. It was that easy. It was reality all over, just in a virtual form.

He did not mind a bit, not when he already knew a lot of things people saw was simply the tip of an iceberg. Acting… evil, going against his morals, was a different story.

There was something that was alluring him, calling him to seek more into this spiraling world of this digital world. No, not influenced by Yuno. Not at all.

What was this sense of hunger of wanting to learn a tool to control everything he wanted to?

Why did it felt so foreign to him?

Riley gave a few thoughts on the current situation, had not been wanting to say anything unless she was certain of the entire picture of the club’s drug business. Even as being the Vice President, Dundee often let her lead the meetings until he saw fit to step into it as the highest command. Trustworthy she was aside, sometimes she was the best person to lead the meetings. “I think we can consider looking into cocaine. Realistically, having one more substance to add into our list is something we can think about. More goods, more variety, possible more customer. We also have some more great newer members, having more people to push more, so I don’t think it won’t be too much of an issue to up our runnings. The only thing that’s stopping us is simply the lack of information we have on it. Me and Malakai can find out more about it after this meeting. Until then, we just continue to do what we do, warn the others to keep on a higher alert, no pressure.”

“Then we’ll leave it to you then.” The Prime Minister referred to the information seeking, which he was earned with a nod of affirmation.

Time flew by as they constantly changed their positions on the no-so-comfy mattress in Yuno’s apartment, their own laptops not leaving their hands. Wolfe had never seen him this chatty from the few times they spent time together, a childlike smile displayed on his face. His cheeks must have been hurting from remaining that facial expression for a long time, yet was too excited to even feel the tire. He learnt that his mannerism was of similar to those light-hearted anime protagonists – a little fidgety mixed with some awkwardness even when he was in his most comfortable manner. He felt a sense to brotherhood towards him, albeit not knowing each other for long.

JavaScript and Python were manageable in his book, much to his delight. He had thought learning to code was much more of a hassle and headache.

“You’re… actually good at it.” Yuno commented, “like very good.”

He gladly took the compliment. It would still take him months to even read more advanced coding, Yuno told him, or even write his own ones depending of what he was creating, but a good start was a good start.

Which now came back to the topic of a certain dongle.

“I heard the bank went well. Did I hear wrong?”

His ears perked up from the mention of bank, finally not half hearing the meeting conversation.

Dundee’s eyes crinkled along with his smile. “It went real fucking good, if you don’t count the fucking coppa dogs demanding us to leave the fucking bank after they came.” Typical cadets, he would add if he had known this little information. “Got two-hundred in total, a hundred-seventy for us and the rest for our backup hacker.”

“You didn’t tell me.” Pezz flipped his papers to a certain page.

“I forgot alright!”

The red hair huffed, already used to his leader’s tendency of getting off track of some minor, yet still important details. He grumbled as he took out his pen that was attached to his clipboard with a piece of string and wrote down on his accounting slip. “What else.”

“Hm… nothing.”

Wolfe looked at his road captain, in hopes for him to bring up the topic of the white dongle. Unfortunately, his goldfish brain decided to act out this day, thus said nothing. He sighed in expiration, thinking he might be the only person who cared about it among the three, even if the item could meant something valuable for the club. “We found a white dongle.” It earned several questioning looks and two whose faces screamed ‘oh right we totally forgot about that’. Collin, Chain and Pezz were not really experts in the bank scene so they did not commented on anything.

“I thought there’s only green, blue and red.” Reilly held her chin with her fingers. “Can I have a look?”

“It’s at Yuno’s.”

“… I don’t know.”

He grumbled. Of all the names, it had to be one that was an effective pun. “He’s the one delivering us our market orders.”

“Oh.” Her face lit up in realization. It clicked to Dundee that he had not told her who Yuno really was despite bringing him up for a few times. “I didn’t know that’s him. But why is he keeping the dongle.”

“He came with us on the Fleeca. He’s more experienced with the computer stuff so it’s better for him to figure things out for us, and I’m… supervising him. I think.”

“What’s stopping him from keeping what he can find to himself? He can just lie about it.” The PI within Collin came out, starting to bombard with questions. “We don’t know jack shit about anything, and he knows, he can take advantage of that. What if when you’re not watching him? He can do that out of our eye shots. What’s stopping him from doing anything.”

“We have a deal.” Wolfe reassured the oldest. “Dundee’s an alibi.”

He looked towards Dundee, and said nothing more when he got the answer he wanted. As long as it was beneficial towards the club and he was not taking the opportunity for personal gain, it was a fine to him.

This time, Yuno made sure the laptop was new (and cheap) and ready to be disposed of, without any connection to anyone.

Dongle in hand, he lifted it up right beside his face. “Ready?” Forest green sparkled, looking right into dark chocolate. With a nod of the other’s head, he plugged it straight right in, accepted the cookie, and what appeared on the screen had the two’s mind whirling as fast as a running sports car engine.

More codes, more codes, and more codes.

Huh.

It was not a one night thing then.

Wolfe decided, that he will be a hacker – a legit hacker, not just a bank hacker. He was not abandoning this new goal of his anytime soon. The urge of spending more time in front of a screen and making magic with his fingers was so raw.

SELECT YOUR CHARACTER

[PLAYER ONE]

A green field in the center of the red bloodied mountains of bodies, not stained with even a drip of crimson.

PLAYER TWO

A wolf among his pack stood out with a demeanor of a sheep, its instincts only to be awaken from a new prey the others were not interest in.

PLAYER THREE

???

PLAYER FOUR

???

PLAYER FIVE

???

PLAYER SIX

???

Chapter Text

How long had it been? Days? Weeks? A month or two maximum. His bond with the Bondi Boys Motor Club had gotten stronger than ever, more than he anticipated. It was more towards Irwin Dundee and Wolfe McCreedy, but the others, too, he grew close with them.

Riely Carter was the logic behind the club. It was not a myth that members in the club did possessed irrational tendencies more than usual. If there were conflicts and issues that were avoidable, you could trust her to de escalate and provide the most beneficial solution. Malakai, he observed, was close to her all the time. He wondered what sort of relationship they shared, but that was not his business.

Pez Speedwagon was the thirst most affectionate towards him, often asking him how his day was going and insisting on providing help whenever he needed to. He had not seen him in his jacket whenever they met, perhaps a gig of his? He never cared to ask, in fear of barging into his privacy regarding the club. Well, spending time with them, he could consider himself as a close associate, though he was certain they were not close enough that he knew bits and pieces of it, nor that he should.

His interaction with both Barry Benson and Colin McKinly was strictly stringed with his time spending with Dundee and Wolfe. He felt they had a sort of resentment towards him. Protective he presumed, and he understood. Having an outsider interacting with the club often could raise questions, mostly on whether he was using them as a stepping stone or some sort. The teasings and jokes did got bolder as time went by, a sign of them starting to trust him more, a good thing… if only they could limit their dick jokes to the minimum. Dundee’s occasionally added fuel to the fire with calling him and Wolfe being “hacker couple”, and often left the both of them burning with embarrassment and left the group the moment it was mentioned. Torturous.

He could not comment much more about the others. Time with them was pleasant, and that what was important. Having a sense of security, some criminal group amongst the insanity of what was called Los Santos was more than what he could ask for.

It was a shame they halted their progress towards the Paleto. Club business came first, unfortunately. He strayed away from the club whenever he sensed a club business was about to happen – hang-arounds issues, having rivalries with other gangs, someone trespassing their Billabong with the intent of doing illegal activities… He would have to wait for a while for an adventurous shenanigan.

The white dongle was taking him and Wolfe forever to solve. They suspected their discovery was just the surface. There was no way that it only gave away a few IP address that directed them to the police department. How on earth did an item from a bank robbery pointed directly towards it? It did not make any sense. Hijacking their data base and snatch copies of the files? It could be, but what files were they finding? They could attempt to do so after building a solid security measure on their hacking computer, and it was true that taking risks was better than doing nothing. The underlying problem was they did not have a goal at all. Wolfe being busy for the next couple of weeks did not help either.

He munched on his heart-stopper, soda in hand, sitting on the bench near Burger Shot. A break was well deserved after all the brain power and delivery chores he mushed out. When was the last time he took a break?

During his daydream, he did not see a rented four-door speeding in front of him and drifted towards the fast food restaurant parking lot, nor the chaos following the arrival of the driver and passenger of said vehicle. Threats of suing the restaurant and shooting were exchanged with the calls of nine-one-one from customers, all that for a quote on quote, extremely slow and rude customer service. The rivalry between it and Roster’s Rest was not a secret, so that should be expected.

Tony Corleone flipped his middle finger to the employees behind Lang Buddha, who was striding toward the side door, his posture ever so straight like an emperor. His quota on terrorizing the fast food place was met, so he refrained himself from making another lewd comment regarding. Creating rivalries would boost attention and sales, no? Dean Watson was non judgmental on his terrorization, thus meaning approval.

“Let’s fucking go, Tony.” He pushed the glassed door. A snicker was heard behind him, “you better have a fucking good lawyer. Hope mommy and daddy won’t cry for you losing the job.”

He could be a fucking kid when he chose to be.

And he should have told Tony to park on the opposite side of the road, not in the parking space. Damn it. There went his epic exit. It was too late to go to the front door now.

He instinctively looked at the bench, searching for a familiar mop of red head. Instead, took place was a neatly, carefully styled fluff of raven, with highlights of dark chocolate brown under the sun light. It was a shame the Bench Guy was not around. He was a delight to start an interesting conversation with. The person had just finished his burger and scrunched up the wrapping paper into a small ball with his gloved hands. He winced, imagining the hassle to rid of the grease on the leather. That was partially why he refrained from wearing them, unless duty calls.

He turned around, his destination to Tony’s car, until his close companion for years halted him with a barely whispered hey. A frown was returned to him, then morphed to a relaxed state when me mouthed the name of the person. What were the odds?

The two criminals approached the side of the bench, stood, watching him slurping the rest of his drink. Small sips he took, making as little noise as possible, even when the liquid reached to the end of the paper cup. Too well mannered for a lone guy eating unhealthy food. Or that it was a habit of his. With a glance on the floor, he traced out two additional shadows within his sight, and twisted his head. Only to yelped and nearly dropped the trash on the floor. “M-m-m-m-Mr. Lang? Tony?”

Lang clicked his tongue. Mr. Lang? That was new. He only once referred to him as Mr. Buddha, he recalled briefly. What changed? His cheeks were flushed in an instant and pitch chirpier than his smooth one. Startled, he was. Tony gave out his signature laugh, no doubt already planning more ridiculous joke baits to fish out the same reaction whenever he sees him. “Waiting for someone, kid?”

“N-no. No one. Just me. Yup.” He sat up straighter, hands hovering above his lap. “Just me.”

Lang hummed. That could meant he has little to no friends, or just that they were busy at the moment. Being alone in the city was extremely dangerous, and considering he has no gun on him with the lack of bag and weapon-shaped outline from his trousers, a perfect target to be a victim of crime.

“Wanna come ride with us?” Tony chirped in, seemingly in sync with Lang’s mind.

“Uh…” Yuno plundered for a bit, and faltered when he saw the welcoming reeking out from the Italian’s eyes. “Sure?”

He dashed to the back ally of Burger Shot, dumped his rubbish inside the large bin, and back to the older men. They took in his outfit – a simple white button up with sleeves folded over his elbows, semi-fitting dark washed jeans and white sneakers with a bright green glow. It was far different from his usual employee outfit and the casual outfit first time Lang drove him back to the apartments for the practice laptop; the impression of a broke dropout, or someone who was tight with his fundings.

“Got an upgrade huh?”

Yuno gave a confused glance, only to came to realization when he saw him eyeing him from head to toe. He gave out a breathy laugh, and rubbed his neck, a little smile forming. “My clothes were tearing, so…” He instinctively tugged on the straps of his leather glove. “And I think my friends…outside of the city…will bully me into wearing like this.”

Lang’s curiosity spiked. “What’re they like?”

It was then a genuine smile rose. His eye wrinkled, and a smile that showed his neatly grew teeth. “They’re great. Very supportive, friendly, funny, big trolls. It’s hard not to like them. You guys would’ve like some of them. It’s never boring whenever you hang out with them. They uh… well…” It slowly morphed into somber, yet the smile was still there. “I…”

Touchy subject then.

“Good to know. Good to know.” They ignored the jeers given by the restaurant employees, slipping into the rental. Yuno watched with wide eyes and flinched at the colorful curses, wondering how often they were being victimized that they learned to said such things. It did not matter after all, as Tony revved the engine and took of with speed, leaving a trail of tyre marks and smokes behind. He took notice of his driving and instinctively compared his driving with Dundee, albeit in different conditions and clearly with the difference of driving under separate situations.

If Dundee was a raging tsunami, given his club named after a renowned beach in Australia, then Tony’s was a calculated machine, as if driving in a Grand Prix. Maybe it was him being too used to the Aussie’s driving, he felt a sense of unease on this vehicle. Not swerving enough on the tight corners, the lack of yelling send it on the bumps… He was too spoiled with Dundee’s driving, that was it. It should take no time for him to adjust to Tony’s driving.

“Not used to speeding?” Tony’s question drew his attention out from his mind, jumping a bit. He sheepishly fiddled with his glove. “I don’t really speed… you know, might get pulled over.”

He hummed, “true, true.” Imagine the hassle he have to go through with a van full of questionable items marked by the cops. It was a huge no-no. Too much question would raise a possibly cause a domino effect between the suppliers and customers. Jacob, he knew, would have to go through a lot again to secure his business chain. “You have to try riding on my R8. It’s a fucking beast and I’m sure you’ll have a great fucking time.”

Ah, the R8, and an innuendo, thankfully not applying to him. He let out a breathily chuckle sensing the excitement that was delivered with the words. “Maybe.”

“You have a car? Any preferences?” Tony was eager, a smirk creeping on his stubble surrounded lips, eyeing the younger through the rear mirror. “Sultan, Comet, Bison, Corquette, Ferrari, Benz…”

“I don’t have one. I just get it, whenever,” if he were to see the set of downturned eyes observing him he would have adverted his gaze to the zooming view. “You can’t really risk using your own car doing stuff. You know.”

“Yap. Yap.”

“And what car I like, hm,” he trailed, unsure. “I think I’ll choose any Japanese car.”

“Oh?” His ears perked up. “There aren’t any Japanese car lovers in this city.”

“Huh.” That was shocking. Should he be shocked though? He did not know a lot of people in the city, after all. “I just think they’re better. I don’t really know why. And rear wheel drives, but don’t ask me why. I’m not really an expert on these stuff.”

“Nissan? Toyota? Honda?” He continued to bombard with a list of car brands, too willing to get to know another person with a unique taste of vehicle.

“Lexus, maybe. An LFA if I really have to choose.”

“Oh? I don’t think I’ve ever heard of someone throwing Lexus’ name around. You might be the only one who have eyes on it. And an LFA? I heard of it before, but I don’t really know what it looks like. Is it a sports car?”

“Uh huh. Some people don’t like it ‘cause of how the end looks like a block. I just really like how the engine sounds. It’s a V10, very cool.”

Tony whistled, and mentally snickered at Yuno’s claim of not understanding cars. He would have said the engine sounds like an expensive sports car or it sounds like a formula-one race car or something among the lines if he was indeed not familiar with them. Being able to name the engine was already betraying that he had certain knowledge on the topic. “Mine’s got one too. You gotta have to try it out sometime.”

“Uh… sure?”

“Oh, and if you really want to get it, try go to the Tuner Shop, find Eddie. He usually does requests on importing cars that aren’t around the city. Buddha’s gonna have his DeLorean soon and my – ahem – antique R8 soon.”

Chitter, chatter. Chitter, chatter. The conversation continued on the estimated budget on purchasing the vehicle, what GNE was and how to obtain it, to a general introduction to street racing. Lang filtered them out, only noting how Yuno reacted during the entire time. Every single flinch, how his tone went up and down, how willingly he was chatting with Tony, and what triggered them. They barely interacted aside from getting the goods, so he took his chances on evaluating him in a more personal degree. He fitted in well, as far as he could tell. The uncertainty he had when he first saw him was gone, but still the shyness remained. He wondered what changed. Was it just him getting used to this city life? Or that he met people that boosted his self-esteem? It did not matter, as something told him that this was the perfect opportunity to decide whether or not his family was hammering on recruiting him as a possible bank hacker. Now that Tony was able to give his take, what was left was Raymond.

Well, there was a seat left on the back, was not it?

He swiftly texted the Russian on his availability. Please, please, please, for the love of fucking God, for once in a while, do not fucking ghost him. He sighed in relief when he got an immediate reply, and asked him to meet at the court house without further information.

“Hey, Tony.” He interrupted the both, “go to the court house for a moment.”

“Okay,” he streeted the wheel for a u-turn. “Why.”

“Pick someone up.”

A chill went down Yuno’s spine. That was a major bad sign. He was not liking the idea of meeting some stranger again. He doubted it was Nino, his guts told him. It must be someone close to both Lang Buddha and Tony Corleone. Was it the nerds? Was it Dean or Leslie? Wait, he should not have known all of these, not when - Oh Jesus. Oh God. Oh whoever. He should have gone over his existential crisis already after the talk with Nino and spending time with the BBMC. Why was it creeping up onto him all of a sudden? Get over it Yuno Sykk - Sykkuno, Thomas –

Argh!

Nothing did miracle to soothe him from his train of thoughts. He spotted a figure waiting near the court house, wearing a bright pink jacket with a white undershirt. His hair was neatly styled, obviously dyed in white in contrast with his black eyebrows and his age by estimation from his young-looking face (not that there were no cases of young people having sliver white hair by genetics). He stood with confidence, head held high, eyes like hawk scanning his surroundings, a habit he grew from his career. His expression eased when he saw the car driving near him and recognized the driver and the passenger next him.

The second Raymond Romanov slid in the backseat, Yuno wondered if bailing was a choice. He could not think of any reason to leave the car, given that he said that he was not waiting for someone during the Burger Shot fiasco. He was not ready for every single second counting from now. Not at all.

The pink clad suit man eyed him from head to toe, eye lightning up when he recognized the stranger that Lang and Nino had described briefly some time ago, a new comer in Los Santos that might have the knack to break in any bank security if he wanted to. “You’re Yuno?” His Russian accent struck a nerve, and he sucked in a huge breath, not wanting to know how did he knew of him. The most reasonable explanation was that Lang and Nino spoke of him, and maybe Tony too. He was feeling jittery again, just like when he first met Lang Buddha, and a nod was given to him, not wanting to open his mouth. The white haired man grinned and offered an opening palm. “Good to finally meet you. I’m Ray Romanov. Call me Ray.”

Gloved hand meet gloved hand. The Russian took not of the leather and giggled. “We can be gloved brothers.”

Too friendly. Too friendly. Bail bail bail bail bail-

“I heard you’re good at hacking my friend.”

Nope nope nope nope nope nope nope-

He was not ready.

He was not ready.

“Um… not really. I…”

“You know,” Lang eyed Yuno one last time, receiving the laptop back. “A little bit of advice, telling the truth from the start is best for you.”

Deep breaths. Deep breaths. Get over it. Everything will be fine. Nino drilled a lesson that implemented into his brain, and everything with the BBMC went well. Do not stress. Everything. Will. Be. Fine.

“I… did a Fleeca successfully for the first time.”

“You hacked it? In your first try?”

“Well… I’m the backup hacker. I did it in my second try, but it’s my first bank, so…”

Raymond whooped in excitement, patting the shoulder of the same-aged with quite a strength, which he winced with the surprising gesture. “Good shit! My man! Climbing up the ladder like a champ!”

“Uh huh!” His pitch went high, and rubbed his sore area with a grimace. The topic was not dropped as the other man set up a chain of questions regarding the heist. “How did the heist went? Are the cops aggressive?” Of course, the input of how the cops reacted to the heist was important as well.

“Our… driver,” he refused to reveal the members on the heist – not advisable. It seemed Raymond understood the importance of anonymity as he did not asked whose name were involved, even if he was curious of it. “Just drove us out in a four door. There’s a lot of cops, the chase was long, but we eventually got out.”

“That’s it?”

“Uh huh.” That gained an approving nod. “Look’s like you got a really great driver.”

“Ya.” Yuno smiled, remembering the adrenaline rush being in the backseat of Dundee’s driving. It was hard not to compliment his skills behind the wheel. “You can really trust him to get us out from a tense situation.” His mind briefly wandered off to the times Dundee drove him away from the cops… well, that was just two times, but it was already impressive enough for him to deserve a high reputation. At least, in his books. While Raymond took note of the driver being a male. Not that the information was enough for him to figure out who the driver was, but as for reference to the possibility of contacting a driver if he were to make his own heist crew whenever his trustworthy people were not around. He continued to press on, “how’s the main hacker?”

“He’s… alright. It’s just the nerves that got him. I mean, I’m also nervous when I’m the one hacking the bank. It’s really easy to mess it up.”

“True. True.” He cupped his chin with his thumb and index finger, “mental state is really important when doing jobs. So, having backups is a must since there are many uncertainty. How’s the payout then? It’s been a while since I did a Fleeca.”

“It’s around, uh, two hundred or something in profit… Is it a good payout?”

“Is it good? It’s great! The last time I remember we only got ninety in profit, though I think it’s because there’re less people hitting it so there’s more. Now imagine what a Paleto have now!” His eyes shone, already planning the list of escape plans he could thought of, with backups upon backups upon backups. “Have you tried the Paleto hack in the practice laptop? Are you good at it? I can hack a Paleto, and I did one before, but I can’t do the upper vault. It’s really, really hard with the extra number.”

So many questions. Yuno felt like he was in a job interview. He opened his mouth for a bit, and glanced at Lang. His gaze was on the rear view mirror, clearly watching him. He bit his inner cheek, knowing full well that he had to expose his experience with the practice laptop, and he might have to expose his nickname if they asked him. Well, he admitted he went for a bank heist already, also they knew of his involvement with the practice laptop and the illegal deliveries, plus drilling himself with not running away from his issue; there was no turning back. Telling the truth was the only way. He took a deep breath. A decision was made. “I completed it.”

As long as they did not ask him of the nickname, he would not tell a single soul.

“Oh.” There was another layer of impressiveness in the Russian’s eye. “Are you on the leaderboard?”

“A… leaderboard?”

“Ya, the leaderboard. The one where it shows who completed the practice hacks the most? It even shows how much you completed it. There’s one guy who called himself, or herself, the Cheat Code, and stays on the top forever. That person’s the only one who reached the lower vault hack.”

There went that.

“I… am on it.”

“Oh! What’s the name? Mine’s RayCer.”

Yuno snorted. Of course, it had to be RayCer with a capital c in it… not that he knew why. “I’m…”

“… Yes?”

Heat rose up towards his face, cheeks reddening, and both hands covering his face. Committing to admit the truth was one thing, to actually telling the truth was another thing. It was so embarrassing, he had the urge to storm back to his apartment and burry himself into his pillow and shield himself from the outside world. Feeling proud of his skills was never his forte. “I’m the Cheat Code.”

That rang the bell.

The aroma of disbelief filled the car. Even for the two older, especially Lang, who was the most suspicious of his role being the Cheat Code due to the influence of Nino’s logic, widen their eyes at the confession. It was all true then. The coincidence, the weird job given by Jacob, the timing, everything made sense.

There was one question that could further confirm if it was true.

“What’s the last hack like?”

Yuno placed his hands on his lap, sight not meeting any of them. “It’s a memorizing game – you have around three or four seconds to memorize, I think twelve numbers or something,” he would not have enough time to learn how many exact numbers there were anyway. “Then you have to type them out in about… I don’t know, in a short amount of time, a few seconds.”

No hesitation. Straight answer. He was telling the truth.

He, indeed, had done the hacks. The most interesting part, at least to him, was he said that the hack was a game. A fucking game.

That was confidence underneath his meek persona. He could not name any person who would call it a game at all. “Was that even possible!” Raymond exclaimed, in disbelief of what was the last step of the the hack, then smacked his forehead. “It’s a lower vault. Of course, it won’t be easy.”

“You think you can get it next time?” Another million… no, billion dollar question. If his confidence did not waver, then it would solidify his status as the best bank hacker in the city, ignoring the fact that almost no one knew of such. He heard a little hum, and waited.

“I mean… I’m not sure. Then again, you have to complete all the bank hacks from the beginning. There’s no rest for the brain the get prepared, or that you can choose what bank level you do… I think.”

Not sure, he said, Lang scoffed inwardly. Too humble. Too humble for his own good. It was both an excuse and logic to explain why he was stuck on the last hack. If there was anyone who could get that far, currently, then it was only Yuno Sykk. He must be. Nino was right all along. If he and his boys had their prize on the lower vault loot, this man was their only key.

“Tony? Ray?”

Both of them turned their attention to the multi-business owner. “Think we need a backup hacker?”

The Italian replied without hesitation, “why fucking not.” He was not a stranger to criminal heists. Something he learned from all of those years - taking a risk was sometimes the best option. To bring in someone new to create more opportunities for himself? For his family? Then do it. Besides, he trusted his own judgement. That kid would not lie, and would not, for any reason, purposely sabotage the job. The Russian though, it took a while for him to give his input. He was not a trusting person per se, despite his tendency to act friendly towards anyone unless given him a reason to. He believed on benefits and logic… and his trusty guns, but that was another story. As long as the option had no obvious disadvantage, then it was his choice. He said with absolution, “yes.”

“So… Yuno.” He turned to his side in order to have to better view of the Cheat Code. He needed to see his face for the ultimate answer, now that Tony and Raymond were interested in bringing Yuno in for their bank heist crew… or perhaps, a potential permanent member, if his ability was proven real with their own eyes. “Are you in for a Paleto bank?”

Sensing a slight hesitation, he carefully worded his proposal, “no worries. As I just said, you’ll be the backup hacker. Ray hacked a Paleto before, and I have more than enough practice. If both of us failed the hack, then you’ll take over. No pressure. You’re just an… insurance.”

“… Sure?”

Oh poop nuggets.

He was not sure if he was ready for a big adventure.

Lang smirked. “Great doing business with you. Plus,” he leaned back, making himself comfortable on the passenger seat, as if he was relaxing in a spa treatment. “If we fail the bank, we can just blame it on you.”