17 Getting ready

The next day Dexter went on with his regular routine until the late afternoon. He had done his usual training with John and eaten a good meal before he was getting ready for his mission. When he finished getting all his gear ready, he took a look in the mirror.

He had a green chest rig on top of one of his red Hawaiian shirts with white flowers all over it. The chest rig looked somewhat awkward because he was only standing at 4ft 4,' but he had it set up, so it was snug enough not to be uncomfortable.

Below that, he decided to wear his khaki cargo shorts because of the heat; along with that, he was wearing his white sneakers that were rather dirty with white socks.

He was carrying his HK33 and had three extra thirty-round magazines inside his rig. He also had a holster carrying his ASP on his right hip. It would typically be heavy to carry all of this equipment for an eight-year-old as the HK33 by itself is around eight pounds, but it didn't pose much of a problem for him.

Dexter realized he looked like a mix of a child soldier and a kid who went on vacation and let out a genuine laugh. He had gotten John to cut his hair short so that It wouldn't get in the way during combat and was admiring his own face when John barged into the room.

"Hey, Dex, please don't tell me you jerk off to yourself as well. We're leaving in fifteen, so hurry your ass up." John joked while placing a straw hat on his head.

"There you go, your outfit is complete Dex, You look good, trust me." John continued. John was shocked when he didn't even remove the hat and walked past him and out of the room.

Dexter couldn't give enough fucks about what he looked like anymore. He already dressed like an old man who retired, so why would he give a shit about a hat that fits properly and isn't green. He wasn't sure if John had bought it to be even more racist, but he didn't really care what his motives were.

John followed behind him, and they arrived at the front of the compound. The two of them decided to take a 1976 Jeep CJ7 that was red in color without any doors. Hopping inside, Dexter saw that John had decided to take a PPSH-41 with a drum magazine; it was a decent choice for the situation at hand, from the fast firing rate to the 71 bullets.

Sitting in the middle of the Jeep was an RPD light machine gun, which worried Dexter a little. He was wondering If their only stop was going to be the Hazy Minx or not.

The two of them drove in silence through the eerily quiet streets until they pulled up down the road from the Hazy Minx. John was going to hop right out and get to work, but Dexter stopped him.

"Wait for ten minutes; let the cops head to other locations first so we can take our time. A lot of shit is going down tonight, so they should be getting swamped."

John just nodded his head and hopped back into the car, and after a minute, he pulled out a pack of cigs.

"Hey, Dex, I know you don't smoke, but you want one before we do this? It could be the last chance you have to try one anyway. You never know what's going to happen." John offered while holding one out in his direction.

Dexter usually wouldn't smoke, but he took it because of all the shit he was doing in his new life. He killed people all the same in his previous life, but they were in a terrorist organization, so he didn't overthink it. In his opinion, they deserved what had happened to them, and he didn't really consider them good human beings—considering what they had done.

Lighting up the smoke, he took a hit and coughed slightly. He thought about how he had the Devil watching him and was heavily encouraged to kill or fuck with people. Initially, he didn't think it would be that bad, but he changed his opinion after thinking more about how the Devil treated the last person he transmigrated.

He knew if he gave up on living like this and went and had a normal life, the Devil would get pissed off at him, and he didn't know what would happen. He also had no family in this world and was considering cutting Ratana out of his life. Dexter thought she was too good of a person to be close to somebody like him.

John could see that Dexter was deep in thought, so he didn't say anything and just enjoyed his smoke in peace. He gave Dexter five minutes before leaning over and putting a hand on his shoulder.

"Hey Dex, there's no need to overthink things; these guys are barely even human anyway, so what's the problem? If you placed them on a scale with a bunch of animals, they'd be barely above a dog." John consoled him while he made his hands flat with one just a little above the other.

"Anyways, what gun do you think I should use? The PPSH is fun to use, but I'm feeling something with a little more power." John asked while grabbing a gun in each hand and lifting them up in front of Dexter.

Dexter pointed at the PPSH, and John nodded his head before putting it down and taking the RPD. Dexter sighed internally and made sure all his gear was good to go.

They finished off their cigs and hopped out of the Jeep. Dexter had an apathetic face while John was grinning from ear to ear.

Dexter put his HK33 on semi-auto as he didn't want to kill innocent people by mistake, while John didn't even have that option. The two of them were walking towards the entrance, and Dexter was hoping that John wouldn't go full no Russian on the people inside.