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To aquire family pt. 3

"Tommy, this is the number one villain!" Wilbur raised his voice. He was clearly a bit paniced. But the blond couldn't have Wilbur question his decisions or raise his voice, so he willed everything to stop, and walked in front of the brunett, before the clock started ticking again.

"Are you questioning me, Wilbur?" He asked with a dangerous tone, tilting his head to the side.

"I'm worried! What if you get hurt?!" The older argued, stepping closer to Tommy, who's stare hardened and a pressure forced Wilbur to fall to the ground, desperately ghasping for air as his lungs contracted and his pulse quickened. The pressure let up, making him take in a ghasp if air.

"Don't underestimate me." The cold voice of Tommy rang trough the silent office. Wilbur looked up at the teen with terror, still panting heavily with tears in his eyes, a hand clutched to his chest.
"You should be a supporting big brother." Tommy said with a bit of scolding in his tone before he helped his assistant to sit in a chair.
"Now, do we have the meeting's time and place?"

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"Tommy, I genuienly think this is a bad idea." Wilbur says as they stand in front of the rundown apartmen building. They are in the lower districts, where the heroes aren't around that much, so it's a free ground for villains, and consequentually, vigilantes.

"I'm a teenager Wilby." Tommy says with a joking tone. "Besides, I do what's best for my company." He pushes the door open, and heads to the apartment they were given as meeting place. "And Schaltt's regime is not that." He adds, and Wilbur flinches back a bit.

"I can't talk you out of this, can I?" He asks with a defeated sigh.

"Nope." Tommy says with a cheerful tone, and knocks on the door.

There's shuffling in the small apartment, and a crash followed by sharp cursing. The two look at each other just in time for the door to open, and reveal a very dishelved looking pink haired man.

"Damn bich, you live like this?" Tommy blurted out, staring into the number one villain's mask. Wilbur looked at the teen with a dissaproving gaze and a hiss of the blond's name.

"Oh shut up." The voice of Pyroeis was laced with sleepiness. He looked dead on his feet.

"You arranged a meeting at your own place? That is not very professional." Wilbur blurted out, causing Tommy to chocke on a laugh.

"Oh shut up Siren, I didn't need your foolery right now." Pyroeis muttered, and Wilbur froze like deer in the headlights. It seemed like nobody gave a mind to the villain's addresing towards him, Tommy smoothly asking if they could arrange details.

"Sure, come in." Pyroeis stepped aside, and the two walked into the small apartmen that seemed to have three rooms at best. The living area and kitchen were in the same room, and there was a small bedroom behind a slightly open door. The other door led to the bathroom most likely. The place was furnished poorly, and there was not much personality to it. Pyroeis stood at the wall nervously as Tommy looked around, before gesturing to the small kitchen table with four chairs. The three took seat, and Wilbur pulled out his binder.

"So, I requested a meeting to place a hit on someone." The teen started, switching to his bussiness tone. The villain hummed, tapping at the desk three times, seemingly thinking.

"I must say I am not surprised." He said, and Wilbur glanced at him carefully.
"Capitalists are all corrupt." Pyroeis leaned back in his chair.
"Who is bothering you so much, mr. Innes?"

"It's Schlatt." Wilbur didn't write down anything this time, not wanting the information to ever get out of this room. The pinkett tilted his head, clearly interested.

"Oh, that is actually reasonable. Schlatt is a hound." The villain agreed, and upon Tommy's confused expression, Wilbur cut in.

"It means he is a piece of shit." The brunett said helpfully.

"Oh yeah, yeah he is." The teen quickly gathered himself from the innitial wave of confusion, and cleared his throat.
"What would be your starting price?" He asked the villain, who just shrugged.

"Well, I never really did something like this before, so I don't know how much I can ask for." He admitted. That explained the unprofessionalism, Tommy supposed. Was that anxiety in his voice? Was the number one villain anxious? Tommy found it intriguing. It reminded him of Wilbur a bit.

"How about a million and we can go from there." He suggested, and he watched with amusement as Pyroeis froze up in what he persumed was schock.

"I can draft up a conract." Wilbur said, pulling out a form from the binder.

"Hold up, hold up." The villain stood up quickly.
"What the fuck would I even do with a million?" He seemed a bit agitated, and Wilbur shot him a sympathetic glance, and Tommy frowned.

"You are right." Pyroeis let out a sigh of relief. "One million is not enough. Let's make it five for starters." The teen said and the villain pinched the bridge of his nose under the mask.

"No, mr. Innes." He shook his head, trying to explain that he most definietly could not ever spend that much money.

"Okay, you know your worth. Ten." At this point, Wilbur noticed, Tommy was agitating the villain for fun. It was a bit funny, seeing as the villain was a spluttering mess, agitated and clearly not knowing what to say.

"How about we start with five, and he gets five more when the job is done?" Wilbur suggested, and Tommy hummed.

"Yeah that'll work." The blond said, and stood up.
"I'll transfer the money to you tomorrow, I hope to see Schlatt dead by the end of the month." The teen walked to the door, Wilbur right by his side. The villain just blinked at them. When the door closed behind the pair, he waited for another couple of minutes before he collapsed back into the chair, and removed his mask. Blood red eyes closed from the frustration that coursed trough his veins, and a groan left his lips.

"What the fuck am I going to do?" He asked the empty apartment.

No answer came. Not that he expected one.

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