Drag queenission impossible

The tension at the drag queen party escalated when a sharp-eyed guest, a wealthy tycoon known for funding underground syndicates, fixated on Alexier. The man’s heavily jeweled fingers tapped his glass as he scrutinized Alexier’s elegant yet oddly restrained movements.

“Darling, you seem… different. Haven’t I seen you somewhere before?” the man purred, narrowing his eyes.

Kenji, draped in a glittering crimson gown, immediately stepped in with a theatrical gasp. “Oh, you must have! My dear Alexia here is infamous in Paris! The drama, the scandals! She had to disappear for a while after—” Kenji flicked open a fan, lowering his voice to a whisper, “—the Baron of Versailles fell madly in love with her and abandoned his fortune! It was a disaster, darling.”

Alexier barely held back an eyeroll but played along, giving a coy smile. The tycoon, however, remained unconvinced. His fingers clenched his glass, and his gaze darkened. “Is that so? Then perhaps I should introduce her to my associates. They have a keen interest in familiar faces.”

Just as the situation turned precarious, a scream erupted from across the ballroom. One of the disguised operatives from the syndicate had caught sight of Yashiro, recognizing him despite his elaborate disguise. The moment shattered the illusion. The syndicate guards moved, reaching for weapons concealed beneath their extravagant suits.

“Welp,” Kenji sighed, tossing his drink behind him. “Time to drop the act.”

With a sudden burst of movement, Kenji lashed out, his high heel slamming into the nearest guard’s face, sending him crashing onto a table. The once-glamorous party descended into utter chaos as Alexier drew hidden blades from beneath his gown, spinning into action. Feathers flew, champagne splashed, and the DJ, oblivious to the fight, cranked the music louder.

Yashiro, wielding a pair of stolen golden candelabras, fought off multiple attackers, while Seiran vaulted off the bar, landing a devastating kick to an enemy’s chest. Raven moved like a shadow, her fan concealing the flash of her dagger before she struck with deadly precision.

As the battle raged on, Kenji, dodging a strike, shouted over the noise. “This might be the most fabulous fight of my life!”

Alexier groaned, deflecting an attack. “Just shut up and fight!”

The syndicate’s reinforcements stormed in, upping the stakes. The team would have to finish this quickly before they were overwhelmed. The mission wasn’t over yet—far from it

As the vibrant music pulsed through the lavish nightclub, the air was thick with laughter, shimmering lights, and extravagant performances. Alexier, Kenji, Seiran, and Yashiro blended seamlessly into the crowd, each adorned in their over-the-top drag disguises, their target just within reach.

Kenji, adjusting his long, feathered boa, leaned over to Alexier, whispering with a smirk, "You know, you wear that dress a little too well. Almost makes me jealous."

Alexier, resisting the urge to roll his eyes, kept his focus locked on their target—a high-ranking black-market tycoon dealing in assassination contracts. The man sat comfortably in the VIP section, surrounded by bodyguards, laughing at a private performance.

Yashiro, ever the wildcard, twirled dramatically, playfully flipping his blonde wig. "Oh honey, I was born for this mission." He winked at Seiran, who merely sighed, clearly already done with his antics.

Seiran, dressed in a sleek, elegant gown, adjusted the lace gloves on his hands and muttered, "Let's just get this over with."

Suddenly, their earpieces buzzed. "Eyes on the target. He's about to leave."

It was time.

Kenji grabbed Alexier’s wrist, leading him toward the target’s direction. "Showtime, princess.

The target’s bodyguards, all heavily armed, flanked their boss as he exited the VIP lounge. The nightclub’s lights pulsed in time with the pounding bass, casting colorful flashes across the battlefield about to unfold.

Alexier, ever the perfectionist, adjusted the slit of his gown, his flawless legs catching the attention of one of the guards.

The poor guy had a split-second to admire before—BAM!—Alexier’s heel drove straight into his gut, sending him staggering backward.

Kenji, flipping his long, dazzling wig, grinned. “Damn, babe. If looks could kill, but I guess stilettos will do.”

One of the guards swung at Kenji, but he ducked, spun gracefully, and used his boa to whip the guy’s face, momentarily blinding him before landing a solid knee strike to his ribs.

Yashiro, having the time of his life, strutted forward with exaggerated confidence, throwing a roundhouse kick in heels that sent another goon crashing into a table. He flicked his fake nails and smirked. “Honey, you can’t handle all this fabulous destruction.”

Seiran, the most unwilling participant in their disguise, sighed heavily before delivering a brutal spinning elbow to an approaching thug. He grabbed a champagne bottle from a nearby table and cracked it over another’s head, the liquid spraying like an over-the-top action scene.

The VIP guests screamed and scattered as the real fight broke out.

A guard pulled a gun—but before he could fire, Alexier used his slit dress to whip the barrel aside, spun, and delivered a devastating axe kick right onto his wrist, sending the gun flying. In one smooth move, he snatched the weapon mid-air and fired two shots, perfectly hitting the lights above, plunging the room into chaos.

Kenji (laughing as he ducks behind the bar): “That was hot. You been practicing, babe?”

Alexier (smirking, reloading the stolen gun): “Naturally.”

Meanwhile, Yashiro grabbed a feathered fan from a nearby drag queen and used it to slap an opponent across the face before flipping over him and landing a vicious elbow to the jaw. “Too bad, sweetie. You just got served.”

Seiran, grabbing a tray, frisbeed it across the room, hitting a guard right in the throat. “This mission is ridiculous.”

As the fight raged on, the target made a break for the exit.

Kenji tossed his heels aside, cracked his knuckles, and grinned. “Oh no, darling. The show ain’t over yet.”

The chase through the nightclub was nothing short of utter chaos—but make it fashion.

As their target bolted for the exit, Alexier hiked up his gown, kicked off his heels, and sprinted after him with deadly precision. The long slit in his dress fluttered dramatically as he vaulted over a lounge sofa, narrowly dodging a frightened clubgoer.

Kenji (grinning, tossing aside his wig): “Alright, heels are off, it’s about to get real.”

The gunmen left standing opened fire, but Seiran grabbed a metal serving tray and angled it just right, deflecting a bullet into the chandelier above.

The shattering glass rained down, momentarily blinding the guards. Yashiro, ever the showman, used this distraction to flip over a railing, landing gracefully near the bar, and delivered a swift palm strike to an enemy’s throat.

Yashiro (winking at a shocked drag queen): “Gorgeous and dangerous, darling.”

Meanwhile, Kenji grabbed a champagne bottle, bit off the cork, and spat it right into a guard’s eye before delivering a brutal spinning elbow to the jaw.

Seiran, completely fed up, stormed through the fight like a machine, clotheslining one attacker before grabbing another and throwing him into a table. His dress was in tatters, but he didn’t care.

Seiran (deadpan): “I swear if I have to wear a wig again, someone is dying.”

Alexier, hot on the target’s tail, launched himself over the club’s balcony, executing a perfect mid-air somersault before crashing down onto the target’s back, sending them both tumbling onto the dance floor.

Target (gasping, pinned under Alexier): “W-Who the hell are you people?!”

Alexier (whispering, pressing a gun under the target’s chin): “Your worst nightmare in couture.”

Just as Kenji and the others caught up, the nightclub’s security alarm blared, signaling the incoming police or backup forces.

Kenji (grinning, breathless): “Alright, ladies, time to wrap this up before the after-party gets too wild.”

As the blaring alarms intensified, the club's neon lights flashed wildly, casting chaotic hues across the battlefield. The sound of approaching sirens signaled they had mere minutes to escape.

Kenji grabbed a champagne bottle, smashed it on the bar counter, and flung the shattered remains at a closing security guard, stunning him just long enough for Seiran to deliver a knockout punch.

Alexier (panting, gripping the target's collar): “We need an exit, now.”

Yashiro glanced up at the massive LED screen above the DJ booth, his mind working fast. A hidden maintenance hatch.

Yashiro (grinning): “I’ve got an idea. Hope you all like heights.”

Kenji, knowing Yashiro’s plans were never boring, smirked. “As long as it doesn’t involve me breaking my face.”

With one swift motion, Seiran hoisted the unconscious target over his shoulder, and the team scaled the DJ booth, leaping onto the catwalk above the dance floor. The crowd below, still in chaos, barely noticed.

Alexier kicked open the maintenance hatch, revealing a back rooftop exit. The moment they emerged, they were greeted by the city skyline—and a sheer drop to the alleyway below.

Kenji (groaning): “Tell me we have a plan that isn’t free-falling to our deaths.”

Yashiro yanked on a coiled rope, revealing a fire escape pulley system. “Relax, we fly in style.”

With no time to waste, the team latched onto the cables and zipped down, landing smoothly in the dim alley below.

Just as police forces stormed the nightclub, the team slipped into a waiting black car, the engine revving as Raven—calm as ever—sat in the driver’s seat, sunglasses on.

Raven (smirking): “I take it the party was eventful?”

Kenji (laughing, throwing his wig in the backseat): “You have no idea.”

With a final roar of the engine, the team sped off into the night, mission complete.

Mission Success.

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