Free Guy x Reader

{Chapter One}

An upbeat hip-hop song plays as a giant urban area comes into view. A single man adorning all-black emerges from above, arms tucked securely to his side as he dives further towards the ground.

This is Free City! Look at this guy...

The angle shifts to the face of the unidentified man, a clear view of his face that shows a pair of red-lensed shades adorning his face.

He's one of the sunglasses people, and the people who wear sunglasses are heroes!

The sunglasses man's arms and legs stretched away, activating the flight suit attached to him. The elevation easily retained him in the air. He soared over the buildings, dodging an unexpected explosion and ducking under the large blue banner that read Welcome to Free City

They have a devil-may-care attitude and they run this town.

He pressed a button against his chest and initiated the parachute, effortlessly landing in the driver seat of the luxurious blue Mercedes-Benz. His sudden appearance attracted the attention of an attractive dark-blonde woman in a hot pink dress, who was completely smitten with her newest passenger.

"You're so hot." She praised.

"Oh, I know."

He gear-shift the vehicle and drove off, dodging underway traffic. A helicopter began rapid fire on the car thief and counterflow driver.

See? That's not even his car...or his wife

Now growing irritated with the chaser, he performed a 180 turn and executed a successful escape.

For the sunglasses people, they get to do anything they want.

An assemble of police cars files behind him, the one in the front tipped over from a collision with another car. The rest pull ahead, gaining on the sunglasses guy's tail.

They go on all sorts of missions, they got cool hair, cool clothes. I mean, laws aren't really laws to them. They're more like mild suggestions. Like, I don't think he's gonna return that car...or that nice lady.

Chaos persued. Law enforcement was far gone by now -due to collisions- and money scattered the streets. Delivering the final blow, the sunglasses man whipped out a grenade launcher and fired two shots. He completed a 360 spin and drove off victoriously as an explosion went off in the background.

See what I mean? Hero.

***

In the depths of the dark, the grafitti-filled alleyway was a man. He was dressed down in leather and a graffiti-designed mask, waiting in the heavy silence for an important client. A woman slowly descended from above, her boots creating a loud stomp that echoed against the walls, alerting the anonymous man of her presence.

Molotov unclipped herself from the rope and approached the masked man, "What have you got?"

"Proof of a secret level. That's what you're looking for, right?" He replied.

"You got a video or a screen grab?"

"Nope, but I know who does."

"Wanna know what I do to people who waste my time?" Without hesitation, Molotov pulled a gun on the main, aiming the barrel close to his cranium.

He nonchalantly raised his arms.

"Oh, wow. Oh, someone wants to play. Hey, you really British, or is that an accent filter? 'Cause maybe we could meet up later?", he suggested flirtatiously.

"I don't have a burning desire to see your mum's basement, thanks." The brunette sarcastically replied with a tilt of her head and a grin of distaste.

"Got jokes, huh? Well, I got a map, shows the location of his stash house." The masked man reached into his pocket and pulled out an electronic map of the targeted area, "Don't know how you'll get in, but if you do, clip 56 might interest you."

Molotov exchanged silently then went to grab the device but was pulled away from her reach.

"Now, I've got a question. What's so special about this clip anyway?" the man asked, inquisitively.

"What's special is I kill people who ask questions about it." she threatened, the barrel of her gun returning to his head.

"Mm, I see." the man muttered, handing her the electronic map, "Yeah, that's fun."

Molotov turned on her heel and took her to leave, relief washing over her as she strode away from the creep. Unfortunately, the player was not finished toying with the brunette.

"Damn girl, you're so feisty." he enticed, "But seriously, is it loot, or is it just the experience?"

The dealer continued to pester the poor woman with questions and was too busy doing so to notice the figure that dropped down from the roof. They reached for their Glock and fired a single bullet into the back of his skull.

"That business doesn't concern you." Vesper replied flatly, glaring down at the corpse through their DITA FLIGHT 006 shades.

They scurried to Molotov's side and the pair exited the ally way as if nothing out of the ordinary occurred. They ambled across the sidewalk, boardly balancing at the other avatars spread across the map.

"Wow, life in the big city. Ain't nothing like it." Molotov mimicked a cheerful NPC.

A lop-sided grin stretched across Vesper's lips and joined in on the mockery, repeating the line of a male NPC, "Looks like rain."

"Has anyone seen my cat?" The two said alongside each other as they passed the cat-lady, Phyllis, giggling at their simultaneous reply.

Vesper stuffed their hands into the pockets of their jade-colored cargo pants while Molotov busied herself in softly singing the lyrics of Mariah Carey's Fantasy. The former hummed along to the melody, pushing their hair back from their face as they approached another pair walking their way. A bank-teller and a police officer.

"Don't have a good day-" Molotov began

Vesper finished the quote, "Have a great day."

"Love that song."

The two avatars turned on their heels, brows narrowing at the bank-teller. Was this a new quote added in by the developer? The bank-teller continued to stare at Molotov with a love-struck expression while Vesper glanced between the two with the same amount of confusion as the latter.

"That's a new one," Molotov muttered and carried on to the saving checkpoint.

Vesper gave one last stare down at the blue-shirt-wearing NPC before jogging back to their friend's side. They glanced back and there he was still frozen in place with that dumb look. They averted their gaze and softly tugged Molotov closer by the arm.

"What's up with Vault Boy?" they whispered in confusion, gesturing over their shoulder with their thumb