It was one of those dreary days that seem like it came from some old cop movies. Almost as if the weather itself knew that it so that some horrible weather would fit the events of the day. The complete lack of tree cover on the island always seemed to make any form of bad weather far more potent than it actually was. The wind and rain could blast right through the island with nothing to stop it but the buildings. No real cover unless you retreated into your home and decided to wait out the storm. On more than one occasion since arriving here Vincent had experienced, situations where the wind was so strong that the rain may as well have been moving sideways. It was easily among the most irritating of things to experience. You really couldn't escape when that happened, you either got peppered with rain drops in your face. Having to squint your eyes and hoping that the occasional droplet of water that may as well have been a dagger didn't stab you in the eyes with every step. Or cover your face and have absolutely no idea where in the hell you were going. Now that he waited to receive his job from Mr. Monroe he couldn't help but dread eventually having to head out there on his own. Hoping to everything he could just get away with walking with an umbrella this time, thinking about how far he would have to go and what exactly the job entailed. Finally after some rather heavyset man in a suit out of a cop show from the 1950's came and sat down at the desk in front of him. The sound of his loud exhale as he dragged the heavy chair across the floor. All of this managed to drag Vincent from whatever daydreaming world he existed in and into the dusty office he sat. At this moment Mr. Monroe realizing that he once again had the attention of his "employee" so too speak leaned in rather uncomfortably close. He smelled of someone who just got done exercising and still had yet to take a shower that week. His heavy breathing ground on the young mans nerves since he could feel every breathe against his cheek and his breathe wreaked of garlic. If it wasn't for the fact he needed the job he would have popped him in the mouth and left.

"Alright listen all I need you to do is get his permission, convince him to sell or something along those lines. Break a leg or two, burn it I don't really know just come back with good news."

Vincent wasn't going to respond because he didn't want to give this guy a reason to maintain this awkward closeness. Hell he didn't even know why he was here, apparently i was to ensure that he fully understood the job, but at this point did it really matter? He was going to go about things the same way regardless. To make matters worse when he left it turned out to be one of those windy storms that just blow everything right into your face. By the time he got to the dojo chances were he was just going to be in a bad mood already. Hopefully this old man wasn't too stubborn and a few minutes of light conversation will be enough to convince him. Sadly if that was he case then he probably wouldn't have even been hired for this.

By the time he arrived at the dojo he was dripping wet, somewhere along the lines the rain had picked up. It wasn't some full blown cyclone, but it was without a doubt enough rain that you shouldn't just walk around in it without some form of covering. It looked like a rather basic place as if it didn't even want to be discovered by potential students. Vincent couldn't help but imagine that the person running it was just some stubborn old man. Spouting some crap about how this was all he had left of his past and the place had been in his family for generations. Why some people chose sentimentality over the clear benefit of money always seemed to confuse, Vincent. When he pushed the door open and was greeted with the warm and dry air it seemed to only annoy him so much more. You could really only describe it as envy. The thought that while he was walking through this storm, ill prepared, whoever was sitting in there was sitting comfortably. Practicing whatever techniques they were learning and probably having a good time. If anything it was a petty line of thinking that had no reason to exist. With a long hard sigh, he pushed open the second door from the lobby and entered the dojo. A hardwood floor with punching bags strewn about the room. A few of the students were practicing on each other. You couldn't really call it sparring since they were moving so slowly. It seemed if anything that they were working on their form, things such as working on how to stand when throwing a punch and how to properly put the force behind your kicks. Vincent just stared at them for a moment, before he was eventually noticed by a young man. If there was a ring leader here he was probably it. He seemed too be helping out the people who were having the most trouble, going from pair to pair and handing out directions. After fixing the stance of one of his fellow students he began to walk over to the newcomer with a smile on his face. Upon reaching a point where they could see each other he looked at him and smiled awkwardly.

"Hi here, sorry but we aren't taking visitors at the moment, could you come back at a later date?"

If you aren't allowing people to just walk in then wouldn't it make more sense to just lock the damn door?

The thought flashed through Vincent's mind momentarily, but attempting to keep the atmosphere as friendly as possible he kept the thought to himself. His patience was already short though, and his boredom was starting to get the better of him. Maybe he should just try to force the old man to show up as fast as possible.

"That's fine hey I'm just gonna wait here for you teacher and then head on my way"

Vincent stated, speaking loud enough so that anyone in the back office would without a doubt be able to hear him. Maybe the young man knew Vincent was supposed to arrive today, and the whole thing about new students was just lie to get him to leave. It's possible that the young man was trying to protect everyone here from the danger that had just walked through the door. Whatever the reason this intruder refusing to leave led to him being popping a fuse. Reaching out he roughly grabbed Vincent's chest and began to push him towards the door, stating that he had to leave and that was the end of it. Wet, cold, a little hungry and already out of patience, the young pirate reacted quickly with a large smile on his face. Leaning back slightly to drag the young man along with him, he would smash the irritated karate students elbow inwards. Grabbing it in the same motion he would spin the arm behind his attackers back and slam him to the ground face first. The young student hit the ground with a gun wrenching thud that drew the attention of everyone.

"Still waiting for that old man to show himself...."

With a long sigh, Vincent bent his hostages arm back until a satisfying snap followed by a horrible scream went all throughout the dojo. He raised his free arm before anyone could move and sent out his orders.

"Apparently teachers not here, so while we wait we're going to hold a little tournament. Don't worry just stay in the pairs you're in now and one at a time we're going to see who's the best person here huh."

To be honest they all seemed younger than the person who had just been subdued, and based on the fact that that everyone else seem to be in some form of distress he hoped nobody would try to be the hero of the day. Beating them should be easy, but wouldn't it be so much more enjoyable to make them take each other out?

In all honesty, this was not nearly as interesting as he expected this to be. At some point during the whole ordeal, Vincent had to punch the guy under him to get him to stop moaning. To be fair he was placing a large portion of his body weight on a snapped arm. You couldn't really blame a guy for letting it be known he was in a ridiculous amount of pain. The other students did give in and begin to fight each other. It took a few displays of power over his hostage to show that he was in control. Their heart wasn't really in it, it didn't seem like they were trying to show how much better they were over each other. After a while watching them became pretty tedious, but the old man had really not yet come out of that back office. What the hell was he doing back there? If he was waiting for Vincent to eventually turn his place of business into a murder scene, a little bit more waiting and it would become something similar to that. A couple of lazy punches, someone falling on purpose and going to ground, and now this young man had lost his patience. Using his victim as support Vincent let himself up, taking absolutely zero care for the injuries the man currently possessed. As he stood up a few of the students not currently fighting looked in his direction and began to motion themselves towards their fallen comrade. At first he really gave the illusion that he was going to allow something like this to happen. Then just as they began to get past him, Vincent let out a roundhouse kick that collided with the temple of one of the students. Sending the exhausted person to the ground face first. At the very least the second student seemed to be be slightly more alert. In that instant he turned to face Vincent and even managed to throw a punch. However everyone here was tired, he had been watching them for quite some time and it was only as he got bored of them did he decided to make his move. Catching the arm, Vincent would jab one finger into the chest of his new opponent. He had spent some time practicing "shigan" and without any form of protection his finger cut through like a hot knife through butter. Clearly the attack had not been fatal, but it had been enough for this one to decide that maybe it was in his best interest to bow out. Really taking apart the rest of the students had been rather rudimentary. None of them had any kind of serious flare to them, or posed an extreme challenge. A few punches here or a couple of attacks there and in the end all of them managed to hit the ground. Before Vincent had even known it there were six people on the floor around him with various injuries. Some like the first student who had attempted to push him out, probably couldn't move even if they wanted too. Others were quite obviously faking being knocked out, hoping that he would just end up taking what he wanted and leave. That in and of itself as really amusing to watch, maybe he should just walk over to them and let them know he was still awake? Continuing forward he reached the backroom which would have worked as some kind of an office. Throughout all of this despite the noise, this old man had yet too show himself, was he just too scared to come out? Kicking open the door in dramatic fashion Vincent was actually surprised to find that the person from earlier had been telling the truth. He really wasn't here, well this was quite awkward actually. It was also rather convenient, if Vincent got his hands on the documents then it would be hard for the guy to prove that it was done unfairly...possibly. So that is exactly what Vincent did, he tore apart the place until he found a folder with the documents he was looking for and began to walk out. However upon beginning his exit he ran into the person he was actually looking for the entire time. Tending to some of his students on the ground, however when the time came the two of them locked eyes. Really Vincent at this point was just trying to exit as stealthily as possible, which really came out to not being possible considering the wave of destruction he had. No words had to be exchanged between the two men, nothing but a look. Immediately the old man charged for Vincent, and something he found out immediately is that he was alot faster than he appeared. He thought he might be able to reach the door before him. Instead Vincent had to turn and drop the folder as a vicious right hook came aimed at his face. The attack hit, but it lacked power and even the follow up knee to the gut didn't do anything but wind Vincent. However just for dramatic effect he did go sprawling across the floor. As he stood up the old man was already launching himself at him with a follow up strike. If one good thing had come of this the old man was angry and with that was not thinking. When he threw all of his weight into the next trike, Vincent flipped him over his shoulder putting as much of his strength into it as he could. Pinning him below his knee he began to unload a barrage of punches on the mans face, not stopping until he felt something below him break: possibly a jaw and his opponent stop moving. Not intending to wait for the others to regain their nerve he picked up the documents and hurried back to Monroe.