"Ghost" Trigun x reader

Spy? Lucky like a Lottery

You froze, your breath catching in your throat. But after a couple of seconds, when you confirmed the man wasn't aware of your presence, you relaxed your tensed stance.

Taking a moment, you examined him closer. He was armed with a pistol at his side, and held a bigger automatic gun. He looked tired but still alert, which couldn't be a good sign you thought to yourself.

Spinning around, you spotted another guard at the end of the hall that turned left. Not wanting to stay too long in one place, you continued on. Towards the end of the right hallway, it turned left and lead to several doors.

The last door had a key pad on it and you could hear faint voices coming from behind it. You bit your inner lip at the situation. You could wait for someone to open it from either sides, or you could phase through it and suffer the after-effects. Hesitating for a moment, an idea struck you.

Looking behind you at the rest of the hallway, making sure that no one was there, you focused and raised your hand to knock loudly on the door. You stepped to the side, hastily forcing your body back into invisibility as you heard footsteps get closer from the other side.

'What-?' angrily started a middle-aged man as he flung the door open.

He stepped into the hallway, a baffled expression on his dirty face as he looked for the source of the knock. As he did so, you swiftly snuck past him, hurrying to push yourself against the wall once inside.

'What the hell are those idiots doing?' the man grumbled to himself as he locked back the door. Pulling a small device from his belt, he spoke into it; 'South side, come in.'

There was radio interference before a voice came through, 'South side, listening.'

'You better be! You really picked tonight to play dumb pranks on me? Do you want to finish dead so bad?' snapped the older man next to you, stomping away inside the room.

You decided to follow him; the size of the room having taken you aback. It was immense, old wires and rusted technology hanging from the walls. Perhaps it had once been an engine or plant room as it opened up further in the back from what you could see. The entrance you had come through was crowded with crates taller than you and some racks covered with rudimentary tarps behind which you thought you spotted guns stacked.

'What are you talking about? Who pissed in your coffee old man; I haven't left my post all night,' answered a voice through the radio-type device as you followed the man in between the multiple cases of storage.

'Yeah, right! I'm just telling you, if you contact me one more time tonight for anything but an emergency, I'm shooting you myself if you don't die before I get to you!'

The man pressed a button and returned the gadget on his belt, seemingly exasperated and on edge at the same time as he headed toward a rhythmic clang resonating against the extremely high ceiling.

There was a deep grunt in interrogation you heard before you even got to see who it was coming from. You felt yourself tense up as you finally walked past a crate twice your size and saw the probable source of the noise.

Sitting on a rusted barrel in the middle of tables filled with ammunitions of different sizes and stands holding dozens of automatic weapons was an extremely muscular and large man. He held a revolver and seemed like he was cleaning it. The problem was that that revolver was just as big as him; it might have been a canon for all you could tell.

You stood still as the man you had been following walked up to him. You finally understood the tension coming from the middle-aged man, the simple sight of the brute of a human that stood there was enough to have you question how safe you were even as a ghost. He wore a red vest and pants, his eyes piercing from under his cowboy hat as he looked up sending shivers down your spine at the pure focus in them.