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All that exists in me is everlasting moo

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B311 preview · 2:42am October 28th

Hero walked into his room. It was as messy as it was when he went out. He sighed, pushing the bed to the side. Underneath the bed was a trapdoor. He opened the door, trotting down the flight of stairs. He entered the basement, flipping a switch. The room was illuminated in blinding white light. Once his eyes adjusted, he chuckled and looked around. The walls were decorated with many types of firearms, ranging from small. 22. caliber weapons, to large anti-material rifles. Moving past that, were other weapons.Blades, blunts, spiked, garrotes, explosives. He pretty much had enough weapons to survive a post apocalypse.

Hero moved past his weapons, heading towards his suits and several other useful tools. They ranged from silly (a clown outfit and a fish) to serious (a black and white suit, with a blood red tie and a flashbang). After all, if you’re to be a hitbug, why not have fun?

He chuckled to himself, a smile spreading across his face. Stepping past his tools and suits, he headed towards a mailbox. He opened it, finding a letter.

“Heheh… who’s to die today?” Hero pondered, opening the letter. 

Good afternoon, B311

Today, we’re sending you off to Canterlot. An anonymous client has hired us to take out Prince Blueblood. If you are not up to date, Blueblood is currently under fire for alleged sexual assault, including raping our client.

As you know, the Grand Galloping Gala is happening tonight. There will be many guards. Encased is an invite to Gala. Be wary, the client wants this done clean and efficiently. I shall leave you to prepare.


Hero nodded, setting the letter down. He went towards his wall of weapons. He grabbed his favorite weapon. A gold, 44. magnum. One he had put an ACOG on. But, he decided against it, reaching for a small, 5mm pistol, one that used subsonic rounds. He then grabbed his piano wire, and a lockpick. He then slipped into his black and white suit, fastening his red tie. With that, he turned and headed out.

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