Danganronpa Shipping Novels & Stories

Another message, this time from an unknown number: [Why is my package delayed? I expect my shipment in two days, or there will be trouble, Alpha Barron.]

She typed a few commands, and a new file appeared on the main screen. It was a bill of lading for a high-security, climate-controlled shipment that had just left a private port in Europe. The contents were listed under a single code name. The destination was a private, secure airfield just outside of Chicago. The recipient was a shell corporation owned by Marcus Thorne. “The delivery is scheduled to arrive in the next twenty-four hours,” Anya said, her eyes wide. We all stared at the screen, at the code name for the shipment. It was a name that meant nothing and everything all at once. A name that sent a fresh wave of cold dread through me. I read it aloud, the word feeling like a curse in m

“Letter said the shipment comes through here. If we’re lucky, your grandmother’s pen pal still likes punctuality.” Selene didn’t answer. They stopped near an old warehouse with broken windows and a faded sign that read: R. & Sons Shipping Co. Kael smirked. “Subtle.” Romano flicked ash off his cigarette. “Most evil things are.” Selene stepped forward first. The metal door creaked when she pushed it open. Inside, rows of wooden crates filled the space. Caius sniffed the air. “Blood.” Selene nodded. “Not fresh.”

Ronan had a map spread out, marking the shipment route. “They’ll hit us here,” he said, tapping a spot on the highway. “It’s isolated, no witnesses, and easy to block off.” “So we don’t send the shipment,” Maddox suggested. “We can’t not send it,” Ronan said. “It’s time-sensitive. If it doesn’t arrive by tomorrow, we lose a major contract.” “Then we defend it,” Jaxon said. “Send extra security, be ready for them.” “Or,” I said slowly, “we turn it around. Make it a trap for them instead of us.”

The second page was dates of operation in each warehouse and the third was amount of product that was shipped in and out and on what ship. None of this looked incriminating but who would write, ‘shipping 23 girls out on the 16th of June on cargo ship 4256 at 9pm.’ I got a hunch and I put the book back and grabbed a few other books. I shook them and more papers fell out. I didn’t have time to really look through every page as I could hear the housekeeping working and I know my time is running out. I need to head back asap!

I just comforted myself by eating my favorite adobong pork. I listlessly took my phone out of my bag and placed it down. The what-ifs were still on my mind. Like what if we don't find a shipping company to ship our garments to our partnership company? Like what if because of that problem they back out? I mean, this is our chance to grow the business that Shane, Jill, and I have worked so hard for! I snapped out of it when I saw my phone notifying me. I picked it up and saw the message. It was Gunner.

“They control the shipping lanes for that region.” “We can if we fly it, we contact Stratos, split the shipment into four loads. The shipment leaves tonight and lands tomorrow afternoon. The installation team can begin on schedule. All you have to do is draft the contract.” “But that will cost three times the shipping budget!” Mr White protests, and I can see the others nodding.

This was getting pointless; I was tired of the back and forth. “……” He stayed silent. “Now that that’s settled, let’s talk about reports on the new shipping.” I started a new shipping company, actually, I have a lot of them under different names and different places just for emergencies, and if one dies down, I can always get extra. Men aren’t hard to find, some that have escaped prison and need a place to stay or work while they avoid the law can always work for me underground and move to different countries. “Please, a moment.” He said as he opened the tablet and checked for details. Yes, there is a 19.7%” increase in shipments since the last time we had a supply.” He added.

“Walk me through it. If we cut them off, how deep does it hit?” She rose and came around the table, pointing to the screen. “These shipments—see the rotation pattern? Every third day, their cargo switches registry to bypass customs. It’s done through a shell company: Corsair Holdings. If you lock their container tags at port entry, nothing moves. Within a week, their whole system stalls.” Anton grunted. “And when they notice?” “They’ll try to buy you back.” He smirked. “That’s a polite word for extortion.”

“I thought dampeners were on the list tonight?” “You were misinformed,” is all the giant mass of clay with a face says, so I point at some anti-shifting gear instead and hand over a card with an address on it for delivery that he quickly absorbs. “I’ve been told you’re the one to speak to about sorting out some… shipping… problems,” the Beta says casually as he finishes up his own list. “Depends on the problem.” “A delicate, cross-country problem.” Delicate. Is that what we’re calling transporting the living?