Danganronpa Shipping Novels & Stories

"So, this is your aim all along." "What else? You think I'd go to your scam of a company for a facial?" "Scam company?" "You just called Seamar City a dump. We're even now." Drake rubbed his temples. "I must be out of my mind to be arguing with you." "I know where their next shipment is going. Interested in working with me?" "How?" "I've arranged for a shipment. They're delivering it to the East Dock in three days. You can just swoop in and catch them red-handed."

“Here’s the deal. You have twenty hours to get me my shipment, once I get that, I’ll release Marco.” “Fine,” I said, the word tasting like ash on my tongue. “Twenty hours. I’ll get your damned shipment.” “Good choice,” Dante said, approval in his voice. “I knew you’d see reason.” The line went dead. I could work with that. Calling Dunn, who picked on the first ring, I told him, “Get the shipment moving. Now.” He nodded, “I’ll call the warehouse, but… are you sure about this, sir? That's a lot of losses on our side”

The doors suddenly opened. Dante entered late. Dark coat damp from rain, curls slightly disheveled, irritation already written across his face. “Apologies,” he muttered. “The port authority in Milan apparently discovered paperwork this week.” A few irritated looks met him immediately. Dante ignored them and tossed several folders onto the table. “The delayed shipments are still being held.” Roberto flipped through the documents quickly. “Reason?” “Officially?” Dante scoffed. “Inspection procedures.” “And unofficially?” Dante’s expression darkened.

The shipment was scheduled to clear customs at seven. Jovan shifted beside me. I'd told him to stay home, to let me handle this, but he'd insisted on coming. Said he had a right to see his brother's operation burn. I couldn't argue with that. "Container 4782-B," Dante said from the front seat, binoculars trained on the port. "Pacific Lines. That's one of Jovani's shell companies." "One of Elena's shell companies," I corrected. "Jovani's just the name on the paperwork."

Daniel looked extremely stressed. Exactly like Dante mentioned, all of Daniel's shipments were stopped and the buyers are upset about the delay. The incoming shipment with arms was forced to dock a few miles off the Creekwood coast. The longer the ship docks there, the more the risk of authorities finding out. If his shipment was caught by the authorities, he would lose millions at once.

We got into the off-roaders and headed to the warehouse on the west side, on the dock side where the shipment will take place. Once we arrived about a half mile from the warehouse, we got out of the cars and headed to it by foot. Orlando I had a real bad feeling about tonight. The shipment was due at any time by one of our well known suppliers who both dealt in air rifles and drugs, so they’d be dropped off together. ‘Are you okay bro?’ Daniel asked, taking me out of my thoughts. I looked at him. “Yeah I’m fine.” “You don’t look like it.”

"The dancer. He’s made Andreas feral. You touch the kid, you die. It’s that simple now. He doesn't care about the rules anymore." I leaned against the doorframe, a small, twisted smile on my face. They were right. I didn't care about the rules. I didn't care about business partners or territory. If the world wanted to call me a monster for protecting what was mine, then I would give them the best monster they’d ever seen. Vance walked up to me, wiping his hands on a rag. "He talked, Boss. The shipment is at the old cannery near the bridge. They’re moving it at 4:00 AM."

His face was tight, jaw clenched, but he knew better than to open his mouth. Cooper came up beside me, quiet as ever. He didn’t have to raise his voice to be heard. “They were holding the shipment for the Dominican deal,” he said. “Half rifles, half medicals. Discreet cargo. Weeks of fucking prep, all cooked.” I didn’t answer. I stared as a piece of the container collapsed inward. The metal groaned, then gave way. Orange light flooded out like a flare in a grave. This wasn’t random. No kids with matches. No petty street fire.

Jack’s fingers moved over the keyboard. >NEW CONTRACT. CLIENT: URBAN WOLF. >TYPE: Logistics. Special Handling. High Priority. >MANIFEST: Four (4) 40-ton shipping containers. LOCATION: Hamburg Port, Secure Compound 7. >DESTINATION: Black Lab 7, Nevada, USA. >PAYMENT: Twenty percent above Fenrir's last contract. Immediate transfer. The response was almost instantaneous. >CONTRACT TOO LOUD. MORTAL LAW. IRON AND POLITICS. MESSY.

The three of them strolled forward, casual as could be, weaving through the narrow paths between containers as they closed in on their target. As they rounded a corner, Aria stopped short. She yanked Landon and Sam into the space between two rows of containers. "Someone's coming." All three held their breath as footsteps and voices drifted toward them. "This shipment goes out tomorrow morning. Boss is getting antsy," a rough male voice said. "Relax, all the paperwork's ready. Customs has been handled." Another voice answered, sounding pretty pleased with himself. "They're just ceramic handicrafts anyway. Who's going to check that closely?"