-Chapter 2
This could not be happening. What kind of dystopian universe had no form of alcohol? I was loaded with quite the lump sum of money, yet I could not even get a damn drink anywhere? If they could not give me alcohol, then I would introduce to them the magic that was alcohol. The only problem was how to make it, because it seemed that none of the stuff that existed to make the wondrous drinks existed in this place, which really sucked because I had to start from scratch. To start, I needed something that would ferment, causing the alcohol to form, then I needed to find a substance that was high in sugar, so it would break down into carbon dioxide and the sweet, sweet alcohol. Then after I had confirmed it to be alcohol, I would have to find ingredients to flavor it into some familiar tastes. For that I had to find a market to-
“Hey. Are you still depressed?”
Yes. Just tell her that you are a sad sack of depression who had to make his own alcohol to escape his poor life. “No, I’m fine.” Damn it. Still bad with social interactions, and didn’t look like I was getting any better any time soon.
“You should buy a house soon. And then you should look for work, because while that is a pretty hefty sum, you must not get complacent and lazy, only to find out that you wasted it all.”
A job? What could I do here, that involves only the most basic social interactions, minimal danger and would be something that I was skilled at? Looking around the jobs I found things like selling wares, the making and distribution of weapons, running banks and the like. In other words, nothing I was skilled at. With the amount of money I had, I might be able to start my own business, but the only thing that I was confident in was making drinks, and managing the amount of work each company employee has to maximize efficiency. With this kind of society, I don't think that managing others work habits was a job that was in demand, or even existed, so I was stuck with my only other talent. I would try and open up a bar, and make my living one night at a time, in a world where there was no such thing as a bar.
“Amellia? Was there any property with a large area on the base floor? Like an old restaurant that was near a popular market?”
She raised an eyebrow. “There’s one that we can acquire for a very low price, but it is not in… very good condition?”
“Excellent. Can you take me there please?”
She nodded, and motioned for me to follow, in a different direction that we came from, heading to a darker part of the city. We ducked through backalleys, where I saw graffiti on the wall, in the shape of a red eye that was bleeding tears. After what seemed like an eternity of ducking and weaving, we finally showed up the area.
“Ah…”
“Yep.”
It was a large corner of a block in the city, but it was in ruins, like a shootout happened there. There were bloodstains on the walls, floor, and a few suspicious spots on the ceiling. The interior was spacious, but ruined. There were holes everywhere, and a portion of the wall looked as if it was melted off like butter. Bullet shells and metal bits lay strewn all over the floor. It would be a good place, in a good spot, but it needed a ton of work. I really wanted to ask, but at the same time, my stomach lurched every time a possible answer to why the place was in the condition it was.
“Amellia… what happened here?”
“Gang fight. Shootout. 35 dead, 40 injured on both sides.”
“A-ah. I see.” I could feel my stomach drop like a ball of lead. I was getting dizzy, and knew that I wasn’t far from fainting. “C-could I ask you to handle the paperwork?”
She shrugged. “Sure. But I want to live here too. You seem set on making this weird “bar” place, so I’ll work there as an aid for whatever you need. But you try and make me do anything perverted, and I will end you.”
I ignored that last part and asked, “Also, could you buy a bunch of fruit from the market? I need a few of each fruit.”
“Ok. Why do you need them?,” she asked, with a slight gleam in her eye.
“Making alcohol.”
“What? Forget I even asked, I'll just get a few of everything.” With that, she departed the area, leaving me alone in the suddenly more ominous place. I fingered the gun that Amiellia had given me, the action comforting me even though I wasn’t confident that I would even be able to use it without passing out. I surveyed the area, trying to figure out where everything would go. I would connect the bar with what looked like the rest of the kitchen, and use the upstairs area as our living space. Then came the problem of entertainment. I would use whatever music I had on my phone, which was mostly electric swing, and maybe add a dart board, and billiards table. The only problem was that I didn’t know if they had billiards, darts, or other bar pastimes in the world, which means I had to make that from scratch. If I could make a gambling table, I could potentially rake in money there, as long I had a skilled enough dealer. I had pictures of cards on my phone, so I could try and replicate those at a place where they allowed printing.
I picked up all of the empty bullet shells, gathering them in a half ruined box, maybe I could use them somewhere. Upstairs looked relatively undamaged compared to the ground floor, and there was a bunk bed in a room, which I could use until I got myself properly settled. I set my phone down in the room above and busied myself with the cleaning of the top floor, so it would be livable. I kept my movements to the quietest I could, so that I would not alert anyone, because I felt pretty helpless without Amellia, as ashamed as I was to admit it.
Soon after cleaning the entire top floor, I contemplated what kind of alcohol I could make, and how I should do it. I needed a distilling and fermenting area, and a storage area for the alcohol until I could sell it. Man. This was a lot of work. I would have to settle for ale for a while, since there didn’t seem to be any kind of hops, malt or barley to make beer with. Ale would be easier to make, but I needed to clear the kitchen so that way I could actually have a space. The problem was, if I cleared the cooking area downstairs, I wouldn’t have a place to make food. Now, did I want a drink first, or did I want to actually be sensible and cook food there?
In the end, my thirst overcame my need for food. I started to clear out the things that were movable, and sifted through places where the equipment was salvageable. I made it out with a kitchen knife that glowed blue at the edge, several cups, plates, and other assorted silverware, all made out of this plasteel material. The damaged refrigerator was thrown out, but the cold locker seemed operable, so that stayed (Also because it was built into the building, and I’m not a superhero or certain shounen characters from manga). The thing that looked like a stove was scrapped, as well as most of the cabinet storage and the dishwasher-looking thing had to be moved too. The countertops, made of a durable metal that I could not identify, were still perfectly workable.
I picked out tiles that were not holding, and after prying off what I could with a makeshift crowbar, I saw a trapdoor that was hidden under a loose tile. I debated on whether I should open it or not, but decided against it. I watched too many horror movies, and was too smart to let the demon out of the basement. I would wait until Amellia retur-
“Yo.”
I fainted.
After extensive poking, I was treated to a sight.
Amellia had bought literally every single fruit that she saw, and bought at least 2 of each one. She began to name every single glowing fruit that she had and what they were used for. The names were long and complicated, so I had to write down each of them:
Duellemketto: It seemed similar to a cherry, but had a more rich aftertaste, but was less sweet in exchange. I could use it in cocktails if I ever got to making them. Looks like a a glow-in-the-dark blob.
Shukusolis: Their staple food, eaten raw. These held promise for making an ale. Each color had a different taste: Blue tasted sweeter, but had a tart finish. Red was rich and more flavorful than blue, but was not as sweet. Yellow was a bland one that was used in making other foods. Green was a more bitter variant that tasted like hops, which meant that it was possibly usable as an ingredient in alcohol. Purple tasted like taro, but was significantly more rare, and therefore, more expensive. The white/transparent ones were tasted like pure sugar, but were much smaller and more dense than the rest of them.
Amiabiete: A fruit that was both sweet and sour, not unlike a pineapple. Grew in a long cucumber like shape, and was soft to the touch
Taiyosole: A fruit that produced a more citrus taste to it than the others, but was bitter. Looked like a an icicle; hard to the touch but soft and pulpy on the inside.
Suppaivaum: Sour and citrus. Like a lemon, but grew underground as a root and shaped into random forms.
While I was observing the fruit, Amellia had went down into the basement, and found it empty, but she said it was awfully humid. With that discovery I thought to try and ferment the fruits down there, to see if they would produce something similar to yeast. But first, I had to find a way to malt the fruit. Malting is the process that involves germinating the grains in hot water, then stopping the process by drying them with hot air. I had to find out if these glowing pieces of jelly could actually become an alcohol.
First, I had to check if these things could ferment. I needed to get a place where the yeast bacteria were, if they existed, to ferment the sugar into an alcoholic substance, but first I needed to clean up the place. We could start with taking out the damaged appliances-
“Is there something on my face?”
Oh. It’s nothing. Just the fact that she was lugging some things that were easily 600 pounds, and throwing them outside like they were made of cardboard. Now that I had time to properly observe, Amellia was unnaturally strong for someone of her stature, able to lift things that bodybuilders would struggle with in our world. For my own sanity, I chose to not think about how she got all the fruit home in the first place.
After storing the fruit in the cold box, which we toned down to use as a refrigerator for now, I asked for her to give me an explanation on what this world was like.
“That means you admit you are not from around here.”
“Well, um, yes?”
“Be careful. There might be people who will exploit you. Also, Since you have trusted me with something important, so shall I with you: I too, am not from this district.”
“...”
“...”
“Is there anything more?”
“No.”
“Really?”
“Yep.”
“Then, can you tell me about the districts now?”
“Right. So there are 6 districts, each of them being on their own level, and they do not normally coexist with each other. Each level does its own thing.”
She sat upon the countertop, and I on the floor. She looked very much like a teacher would, and I felt like a small child. She had taken off the top part of the onepiece jumpsuit, leaving it tied around her waist. Without the baggy outfit, I could see that while she was very well toned, but not muscular. And also… she was endowed in the “chest” area too. I could feel the blood rushing from my head. Without the mask or jumpsuit, and the light sheen of sweat on her body, I was much more aware about how attractive Amellia really was. Black spots danced in my eyes, and I had to slap myself to get some blood rushing to my head. This action did not go unnoticed by my companion, who leaned in to check on me.
“Are you okay? Don’t kill yourself yet. I know this District isn’t ideal, but killing yourself before even 24 hours have passed is pathetic.”
“N-n-no, it’s nothing. P-please continue.” And get your face away before I pass out please!
“Right. So the First District, better known as Topside, is the only place where you get to see the sun. They also have the responsibility of fighting the Orokanaprágma: what we call the monsters that are significantly larger than normal and have enhanced abilities. They come in various forms and species, and it is the First District’s job to protect the city from them. Seeing as they are the ones to kill the beasts, they also get first dibs on everything, making them the richest people. Although killing the Orokanaprágma requires a team, they don’t have any semblance of trust between them. They are not afraid of making sacrifices, and will sacrifice a member of their team if it means killing their enemy…. Forget the last part. Now, moving on…”
While I was trying to comprehend the fact that there was a level between us and the Topside, and also the fact that I could not see the ceiling of our District, a group of hooded figures with red marks on their cloaks barged in, destroying the door. They spotted us in the kitchen, and started to walk towards us.
“Oy. I heard you’re new to the neighborhood, so ye gotta pay a protection fee,” The one in the middle rasped out.
Amellia stood up and shrugged her uniform on, “And what if we don’t want to?”
“Then you’ll have to pay with another method.” the leader replied lecherously, while eyeing her entire body down.
Amellia’s hands reached into her side pocket. She drew her pistol, which looked like a USP 45 with a more rugged appearance, guards for her hands, and a muzzle that was spray-painted bright yellow. The three hoodlums bristled at the sight of the weapon, and made to reach for their own. In the split second that they had reached into their cloaks for their own guns, Amiella had shot each of them in their right hand, causing a spray of blood and a cry from each of them.
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“That gun…”
“Could it be?”
“Shit… I’m bleeding too much.”
Holding his wound, the gang member on the left looked at Amellia, and asked “W-who are you?”
Amiellia rolled her eyes. She motioned to me to grab her cloak, and after I did she threw it on with practiced ease. Then, she pulled her hood over her head. “Recognize me now?”
The three nameless grunts shifted nervously, stealing glances at each other. They all slowly got up and backed away cautiously from Amellia, before departing from the ruined soon-to-be bar. Before they left I could hear them muttering to each other.
“What a monster…”
“Can’t believe Quinn is here…”
“Damn, that was pretty hot…”
At the last one, I couldn’t help but facepalm. Amellia helped me up, and threw off her hood. “I guess we won’t be seeing them for a while.” She took a seat down on the countertop again. “I suppose I haven’t been completely honest with you. My name is not Amellia. At first, I couldn’t trust you, so I gave you a fake. But now that I see that you are too useless to even act against me even if you did know my real name, I suppose that I could tell you. My real name is Quinn. With two Ns.”
“You didn’t need to mention the two N’s…”
“I deemed it pertinent.”
“What?”
“Forget it. So what is this “ale” that you need to make?”
My eyes shone. She was finally interested! I would show her the wonders of alcohol and make her a fellow believer in the wonderous world of drinks! We would become drinking buddies and maybe I could talk to her when drunk and…
“You have a weird gleam in your eyes. Should I beat it out? It could be a nanorobot.”
Actually, this woman was too scary to deal with. I don't want to know how she would be drunk. If she was an angry drunk, she would be my worst nightmare to deal with, or actually, isn't she already? Ok. So somehow I had to get Quinn to understand that it was important to society, but not something she should drink herself. Shit. Her eyes were boring into my soul. If I didn’t break eye contact then I would be forced to answer everything truthfully. So I’ll look to the side and-
W̯̙͒͊̀̂ͥͥh̰͓͔͉̭̞̫̣̊̎̎ͦͫ̄͊̔ȧ̟̤̘͐͋t̠͎̫ͧ͊ͧͪͨ͑̚ͅͅ.̬̬̫̝̜̪̔̓ͮ͌ͤ̅̏ ̰̲̳̏̓ͭ̿͛̒͌I̥̬͚ͦ̾̔͌s̖͈͗ͩ.̪̟̺͓̞͎̋ ̙̿ͨͦ̑̒̽̚A̤͔͙͔̣̱̋ͬ̀̄ͬ̔ͪͅl̞̭̺̫͎̣̆̽́͂ͥ͂ͥͭ́c͉̥̲̤ͣ̃͂͗̂̉ͥȏ̱͕̾͑͂͛ͥͥ̋̋h̙̪͍̅̋̀̉ȯ̟̩̟͈̞̭̍ͪͦ͑̔l͎̱̱̱̋ͮ̐̾̿̓̄.͖͖̣͓͐̔̉” She had grabbed me. HAH! You fool. I will pass out any minute n-
“Ah. He’s unconscious again.”
When I woke up, it seemed to be night, at least for this weird world. I was left in the kitchen, where I had passed out, and Quinn was most likely upstairs, asleep. Right now, I had some time to try and continue to make alcohol, seeing as I took way too many impromptu naps today to consider resting anymore. So to make a decent ale, I need the right flavors. I would start with an orange ale, so that means I had to start fermenting the green and blue shukusolis, and also the had to add the bitter portions of the taiyosole, and if there weren't, I had to find myself some bitter variants of the fruits. The problem was, I could not just simply use the same methods as they used in my home world, as now I was working with fruits, and not grains. That meant that I had to figure out a method of fermenting fruits, to get them to produce yeast. I was pretty sure this was possible, because these things seemed to be made of carbohydrates, even though they were fruit. Even so, fermenting them so that the bacteria would produce yeast was… trying on my patience. I spent 2 hours thinking and shooting down solutions, each more far fetched than the last. After a while of repeating this, I grew too frustrated staring at the fruit, and decided that I would just use the old method and pray that it worked. I would set up a small scale version of the mixers, and then if it worked, I would make a larger scale version of it in the basement. I grabbed a hammer and welder, which Quinn had acquired from somewhere, and began forming a small cylindrical-like container, where I would mash a mixture of blue shukusolis, hot water, and green shukusolis for about an hour. After an hour, I was ready to begin. I cut a small portion of both colors of shukusolis together. Then I put some boiling water to the mixture and began mashing it. This was the most physical exertion that I had gotten in my entire life. By the end of the hour, I was wheezing and groaning, but I had finished the “wort.” It looked a little chunky, but the wort looked normal enough for me to continue. I rapidly cooled the wort, preparing for the next step. I went to check on the white shukusolis, which I had stuck down in the basement in a makeshift pressurized container to see if they would ferment into yeast. The only problem: I sealed the container, but had no way of opening it.
Shit. If I opened a small hole at the bottom, everything would come spraying out in an uncontrollable manner, and my efforts would be in vain. So I needed a way to vent the carbon dioxide inside of the container, while keeping mixture that hopefully fermented into yeast inside the container. If I poked a hole, the tincture could spray out, and I would cause a mess. There seemed to be no other way to vent it though, so I would have to poke a small hole at the top and wait. Before I did that, I put the wort into the fridge, or else the taste would be messed up by the warmth. Now that was settled, I would take my hammer and some object that could be used as a wedge, place it on the container and hit it hard enough to poke a small one-inch hole in it. To my relief, the gas began to leak out in a violent manner, but no liquid. Quickly taking a whiff, I realized that it did smell like yeast, but a little different. No matter. It would have to do. Phase 2 of the small pint of ale would continue.
Now, I would have to mix the wort and the yeast to let them both ferment together. This would be the longest 2 days of my life. During the time, I would have to start buying and/or making parts of the bar, including large places to mix the ale. I could use the basement to help ferment the alcohol. I would convert a part of the kitchen into the factory too, as a place to store the ale I had already made.
Ugh. This would be a long day of shopping. First I had to buy a decent floor, make a good bar table that could withstand people being slammed on it, and possibly be bulletproof. Bar tables and chairs, and also stools would be important. What also went into a bar was the small details. Everyone here seemed to be armed, so maybe a weapons rack on some parts of the walls, maybe a place to play certain games. If I had the money after making the key components, I would make a few billiards tables, and maybe a poker table, too.
It was going to be a long day of shopping, and I still had to figure out a way to get all the stuff home. I couldn’t just leave the shop alone, so either Quinn or I had to stay, and I wasn’t inclined to let Quinn do the shopping, but I didn’t know where anything was, so I was stuck with a dilemma here. If we had somebody we trusted to hold down the bar, that would be great, but I knew no one here.
“Quinn! Do you know anyone who could watch over this place while we are out?”
“Does it look like I know the people capable of watching a damaged restaurant?”
“It’s a BAR! Get it right! And yes, you do!”
“Well, I don’t. So we are stuck with a problem, yes?”
“Yeah…”
“Tough shit. Good luck finding the stuff. Good-bye.”
“Wait. I don’t know where anything is! How am i supposed to find the-”
The door shut in front of me. God damn. I was locked out of my own bar. And now I had to find everything that I needed to create my bar, with no way of taking it back. I took around 3,000,000 Leurats with me, which I hoped would be enough for the bar stand. Also, I didn’t know where to buy the materials which means I had to socialize with someone. Oh no. The bane of my existence. Talking to strangers. The only thing worse was public speaking. I had to find a person who would be willing to show me to a place, and not hurt me in the process.
I looked around, looking for a friendly face. All of these people looked like they couldn’t care less, just going bustling about going to their jobs, I presume. A nice person would be like trying to find a well-paying job in Tokyo. In other words, very difficult unless you knew where to look.
Maybe if I headed to the industrial sector, Which would probably be the ones where the smokestacks were. I guess my trek would begin there. I headed in the general direction of the area, when someone stopped in front of me. It was a young woman with a nice figure, hair that was tied into a ponytail that flayed out at the end, and a bang hanging in front of her face and dyed three different shades of blue (Dark blue for the base, with neon blue highlights and a light blue like the sky as her hair flows down to the tips), and bright yellow pupils danced with amusement. She had this calming presence, as if I could get near her without fainting. She was wearing a immaculate white cloak, with patterns on them, that seemed to shape into some kind of mask with a sword and gun crossed on it. A semi-automatic weapon hung from the side of her belt, and a handgun was under each armpit, with knives on the straps of those. She smiled demurely as she made her way to me politely crossing her right hand to her left breast, and giving me a small bow. Quickly I did the same, not wanting to appear rude, especially with this person.
“H-hello! My name is Kitayama Takeda! Pleased to make your acquaintance!”
“...”
“U-uhm, may I inquire you for your name?”
She made a motion towards her throat, and then signaled an X. Ah. She couldn’t talk or she was a mute. Now I felt guilty for asking for her name.
“I-i’m sorry! I didn’t know that you were mute!”
She mouthed the words “it's okay” and began to look mouth a sequence of words towards me. Hi,yu,ki.
“Hiyuki? Is that your name”
She gave me a pleased nod. Then she turned her head to side ever so slightly, and I somehow knew that she was asking for what I was looking for.
“Ah! I was looking for a place that makes long table pieces, and I was hoping that you knew”
“...”
“You do? Please give me the route to it, and I will stop bothering you?”
“...!”
“I’m honored that you will come with me! I am not wasting any of your time, am I? If I am, then I will be on my way.”
“...”
“Thank you for this, Hiyuki.”
“...”
“I’m making a bar where alcohol is served! It will be a lot of fun, and you should come sometime! I’ll give you a free drink!”
“...?”
“Oh, Alcohol is this thing where when you drink it, it gives you this sensation of being happy, and gives you some confidence too!”
“...!”
“Yeah, it’s pretty cool. I will be done making the first batch sometime next week!”
“...”
“Well, I would like for it to be durable, and possibly bulletproof. Oh, and it has to be 10 meters long, with another side that is 8 meters. It has to be 1.5 meters wide, and the same height tall, too.”
“...?”
“I can afford it, yes.”
“...”
“You only know one good place that makes bulletproof tables? Well, I am thankful that I ran into you then.”
“...”
“So what do you do?”
“...”
“An enforcer for a gang? You don’t seem the type, you’re so nice and considerate.”
“...”
“Haha, sorry for assuming.”
“...”
“Oh, we’re here.”
We walked into this large, run down building with sounds of clanging and cursing. Hiyuki walked in front of me, leading the way to a gruff man with a beard that was slightly singed on the ends, bald head, and cuts all over his ripped body. He saw the both of us and held out a rough hand to shake. Not wanting to offend, I stook out my right hand too, and we shook. For some reason, I did not faint. Perhaps it was Hiyuki’s presence that gave me strength? My fingers felt like they were getting crushed in the vice-like grip of the burly...carpenter? Blacksmith? I dunno. He looked towards Hiyuki.
“Name’s Barnholdst. So whaddya need?”
I quickly intervened. “Actually, I’m your client. I would like a piece of metal that is shaped like a countertop, with it being in the shape of an L. I need it to be 10 meters on this portion, and the smaller side has to be 8 meters. It has to be 1.5 meters wide and be 1.2 meters tall. Also, I will pay extra if it can stop most bullets.”
Barnholdst whistled. “That's quite the big piece. Something like that and bulletproof ain’t going to be cheap. It will cost 300,000 Leurats. No more, No less.”
300,000? That was barely a fraction of what I brought. If it was like that, I could spend money on making the other appliances. If I could knock out all the bar stools and the kettles for making alcohol, then this would be very good.
“If I may, can you add 40 stools to the order?” I brought out a picture of a alcohol kettle and distilling silo.“Also, I need equipment that looks like this.”
Barnholdst squinted. “Looks simple enough. What is it for? It’ll cost more out of your wallet, though.”
“It’s for something I’m making. If you make it well, I can pay up to 600,000 Leurats plus the price for the table.”
His bushy eyebrows rose in surprise. “That’s a lot of money kid. You sure you can pay?”
“If you make it well, it will be worth every single Leurat. If I pay half right now and the other half when you complete, can you do it in 3 days?”
He guffawed. “Boy, for that kind of money I can do that in a day. I’ll make it out of my best metal, too. Do you need it shipped to your place?”
“Please. I live at the corner of 136845 and 13667. It needs to be able to fit through a door about 2.5 meters, so you may need to split the larger piece and weld them in once it’s inside.”
Hiyuki’s presence gave me confidence for some reason. I had held a full conversation without stuttering or fainting! What kind of mystical power did she hold?
Barnholdst gave me a large grin under his singed beard. “I’ll have it delivered by 2100, boy. You can give me the second half there. But I want that first half now.”
“Ok.” I dug into my bag, and pulled out three rolls of 125,000. “This should be enough, right?”
He quickly leafed through the bills, and then nodded approvingly. “Now go, brat. I need the entire day for this.”
Hiyuki and I took our leave. I turned to her and she gave me a slight smile. She motioned for me to follow her, and took me back the way we came. Now that I thought about it, Hiyuki had spent all of this time helping me and I did nothing for her in return.
“Hiyuki, is there anything I can help you with? I mean, you have helped me find this place, and now you are guiding me back, and… I would like to do something for you.”
Hiyuki gave me a smile and winked conspiratorially. She then just kept walking. For some reason, I knew that it meant, “Just let me have a few free drinks when I come by.”
After a pleasant and quiet walk back to my bar, Hiyuki departed, and I could feel the confidence leave me. Suddenly the beautiful buildings became dark and foreboding. The people that I could tolerate before now seemed scary and imposing. I sighed and hurried back inside, where I saw that all of the wall damage had been repaired, and the place was swept clean. Quinn sat on the kitchen countertop, taking apart the rifle that she had on her back and cleaning it.
“So did you find what you were looking for?” She asked, not even looking up from her task.
“Yeah, I met this girl named Hiyuki who showed me to a place, and then I got the stools and alcohol kettles. Oh, and the entire counter for the bar.”
Quinn had stopped when I mentioned Hiyuki. “This Hiyuki… does she have blue hair and wear a white cloak?”
“Y-yeah.”
“And she was friendly towards you?”
“Yeah…?”Quinn whistled. “Takeda, you are making some dangerous friends. Hiyuki is the top lieutenant of the Misfaitius gang. They’re a dangerous bunch, and Hiyuki is known as the “Crimson Snow.” She's one of the best assassins around these parts, and she's been never known to be friendly with people. So, either you are an exception, or… a target.”
“If she wanted to kill me she had many opportunities to though.”
Quinn hummed. “Maybe so. Either way you made a very dangerous friend. Be careful. So when is the stuff coming in?”
“At 2100. Thanks for clearing the place.”
“Hm. I had nothing better to do anyways.” She resumed cleaning her weapon. “How much money did you spend on all the equipment? If you spent more than what you set out with, then you are the largest idiot in the world.”
“No, I only spent 600,000, which is not bad, considering how many things I bought with that money. Hiyuki showed me to a pretty nice guy who did it for me at that price.”
Quinn gave me a knowing look. “ You know, It might not have been that he was a kind person, but was afraid of Hiyuki. She’s got a nasty rep on the street. Last person to stain her cloak got put in the shaft of the elevator. They found a stain later.”
“Ah…” Was the nice, sweet girl that showed me around really a demon? Hiyuki didn't seem the type to hurt anyone, especially over something so petty.
“Like I said, just be careful that you don’t mistake a wolf for a sheep.”
Ew. Metaphors. I didn’t think that someone like Quinn could think of those.
Quinn stood up and began picking up her equipment. She threw on her cloak and began heading out. “Going out for ammo. Be back in 40 minutes. Don't die.”
“Ok.” Not that I could stop her anyways.