I arch an eyebrow, casting a sidelong glance at Bomb, who has remained uncharacteristically silent. "For starters, I'd like to hear more about this 'enterprise' you represent. Specifically, what role you envision me playing, and what I stand to gain from such an arrangement. As you can tell by the fact that I haven't been reduced to a small puddle of red goo, along with the contents of my laboratory, I have politely refrained from reporting your lot towards the police or other such authorities."

Zenith nods, her gaze sharpening. "Fair enough. Well, as I mentioned before, we're part of an organization called the Kingdom of Keys. We deal in all manner of, shall we say, specialized services - from high-end theft and acquisition to more... experimental research and development. Mostly dealing in the chemical trade." Her teeth flash in a sharp grin, revealing amalgam fillings glinting at the back of her jaw. "And your particular set of skills would be a valuable asset to our cause."

My fingers drum idly against the scarred tabletop as I consider her words, the faint hum of concentration vibrating through me. "And what, exactly, are these 'specialized services' you perform? I'm rather particular about the nature of my research and how it's applied."

Zenith leans forward, a conspiratorial glint in her eyes. "Think big, Doc. Bigger than anything your academic peers could ever hope to accomplish. We're talkin' limitless funding, state-of-the-art facilities, and the freedom to pursue your wildest dreams without the usual red tape and bureaucratic nonsense. You like exotic animals, right? We'll smuggle you an albino mountain jaguar."

"Jaguars don't live in the mountains," I correct her.

Beside her, Bomb clears his throat, drawing my attention. "The Kingdom has... extensive resources at its disposal. Resources that could be put towards advancing your work in ways you've likely only dreamed of." His lips thin into a wry smile. "And as for the nature of our operations, let's just say we aren't beholden to the same ethical constraints as more conventional organizations."

I can't quite suppress the involuntary shudder that ripples through me at his words, the implications sending an unpleasant prickle down my spine. "So you're criminals, then. Thieves and ne'er-do-wells, operating outside the bounds of the law."

Zenith's grin widens, her eyes crinkling with mirth. "You make it sound so... unsavory. We prefer to think of ourselves as visionary entrepreneurs, takin' matters into our own hands to make the world a better place. Or at least, a more profitable one."

Bomb clears his throat, his expression sobering. "Rest assured, Doctor, our methods may not always align with the letter of the law, but they are employed in service of a greater purpose. One that transcends the petty squabbles and restrictions imposed by those in power."

I frown, regarding him with a contemplative gaze. "And what, precisely, is that 'greater purpose'? From where I'm sitting, it sounds an awful lot like simple greed and self-interest."

Bomb opens his mouth to respond, but Zenith cuts him off with a wave of her hand. "The greater purpose is money. A fuckton of money."

Turning her attention back to me, Zenith leans in conspiratorially. "Look, Doc, I'm not gonna lie to you. The Kingdom's got its fair share of unsavory characters, and we do some shady stuff, no doubt. But at the end of the day, we're giving folks with special talents like ours a chance to shine. To use your gifts to the fullest without all the constraints and red tape holding us back. Unless you think they plan on letting you back into the Philadelphia Zoo anytime soon?"

I consider her words, my gaze drifting towards Scylla as I ponder the implications. Freedom to pursue my research without the burden of academic politics or moral quandaries... it's a tantalizing prospect, one that resonates with the ever-present ache of isolation that permeates my existence.

"And what, precisely, would my role entail?" I murmur, my eyes flicking back to Zenith. "I have no interest in simply serving as muscle or providing combat-oriented abilities. My work is far too valuable to be relegated to such menial tasks."

She leans back, propping one elbow on the scarred tabletop as she regards me with an appraising eye. "See, the Kingdom's got its fingers in all sorts of jawns. Legitimate businesses, underground operations, you name it. And we're always lookin' to expand our portfolio, y'know?"

Nodding slowly, I can feel the gears turning in my mind, the possibilities unfurling like a row of dominos. "I see. And where, precisely, would my talents fit into this grand scheme of yours?"

She pauses, her gaze sharpening as she holds my own. "Now, I understand you've got a bit of a reputation in certain circles for your, shall we say, unconventional approach to genetic research. Rumor has it you've even managed to create a few rather remarkable... ah, 'specimens' as a result."

My eyes narrow fractionally at the implication, my fingers tightening around the edge of the table. "I prefer the term 'chimeras'," I correct, the faintest edge of frost creeping into my tone. "And I assure you, each one is the result of painstaking, meticulous research - not mere flights of fancy or irresponsible tinkering."

"And your powers," Bomb chimes in.

"Can I help you?" comes out of my mouth, defensively, causing him to shrink away.

Zenith raises her hands in a placating gesture, her smile never wavering. "Hey, no need to get your spines up, Doc. I meant no disrespect. In fact, that's exactly why we've got our sights set on you."

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Beside her, Bomb clears his throat, drawing my attention. "You see, Doctor, the Kingdom has expansive interests when it comes to the procurement and application of unique materials, both genetic and chemical. And we do believe that your chimeras could be useful assets in all variety of roles, given their propensity towards training."

She levels a pointed look in my direction. "That's where you come in. With your special talents, we could open up a whole new world of... opportunities. Imagine the kind of exotic assets we could acquire, the doors we could open. The profits to be made."

My brow furrows as I digest her words, the implications slowly crystallizing in my mind. "You want me to create chimeras to act as some sort of living acquisitions? Tools to be used in your various... business ventures?" I arch an eyebrow, the gears in my mind whirring as I consider the implications of his words. "Are you suggesting I become some sort of monster masher for hire? Producing custom-tailored creatures to suit your organization's needs?"

Zenith's grin widens. "Bingo. Though 'tools' might be a bit of an oversimplification. Think of it more as... force multiplication. We provide the vision, the resources, the connections - you provide the mad science know-how to make it all happen."

Bomb clears his throat, drawing our attention. "To be clear, Doctor, your role would not be limited to the creation of these 'acquisitions', as Mrs. Zenith puts it. We have a wide array of projects in the works, each of which could benefit immensely from your unique expertise."

He leans forward, his expression earnest. "What we're offering you is a chance to truly push the boundaries of science, to explore the full potential of genetic engineering without the constraints of conventional morality or bureaucratic red tape." A thin smile tugs at the corners of his lips. "All while being compensated handsomely for your efforts, of course."

I can't quite suppress the faint twitch at the corner of my mouth, a begrudging flicker of interest stirring in the depths of my chest. The prospect of unfettered access to state-of-the-art facilities, cutting-edge technology, and an endless supply of exotic genetic samples... it's undeniably alluring. Not to mention the financial incentive. A nice nest egg for myself.

"And what, specifically, would I be expected to create for this 'Kingdom of Keys'?" I inquire, allowing a fraction of my curiosity to bleed through. "I assume you have specific objectives in mind, rather than simply granting me free rein to indulge my own whims."

Bomb clears his throat, his expression shifting into a faint frown. "That, Doctor, would be a matter to discuss with our employer directly. Our instructions are simply to secure your services and expertise - the specifics of your duties would be outlined by Mr. Antithesis himself."

I consider this, my gaze drifting thoughtfully towards Scylla, who has been watching the exchange with quiet attentiveness. "This 'Mr. Antithesis'...he would be the one calling the shots, then? The one who recognized the value in my abilities?"

Zenith nods, a grin spreading across her face. "That's the guy. The big boss, the kingpin, the man with the master plan. And trust me, doc, he's got some wild ideas he's been dying to put into action. Ideas that could use a genetic specialist like yourself."

I can feel the familiar pull of scientific curiosity gnawing at the edges of my psyche, a temptation that's nigh impossible to resist. The chance to pursue my research unhindered, to create new and wondrous creatures without the shackles of moral quandaries or ethical constraints...it's a siren's song that resonates deep within me.

"And what of this explosive device you so graciously bestowed upon me?" I ask, my gaze flicking towards the ebony case now resting securely in Bomb's possession. "I hardly relish the prospect of being collared like a misbehaving hound, forced to heel at your beck and call. I expect we'll be done with those sorts of measures?"

Bomb clears his throat, his expression shifting into one of mild discomfort. "Of course. The explosives are only for potential recruits, not full-fledged members."

She leans forward, her expression earnest. "Once we get you set up with the Big Man, that thing'll be history. We're talkin' full autonomy, no strings attached. You want it, you got it. Blank check."

I purse my lips, considering her words. The prospect of such unfettered freedom to pursue my work is undeniably tempting, even if it comes at the cost of aligning myself with such a morally dubious organization. But then, who am I to judge? I've always complained to my compatriots just how much the need for rigorous ethics boards keeps us held back. Why not put my money where my proverbial mouth is?

And really, what do I owe to my fellow humans, who have consistently proven themselves to be shortsighted, irrational creatures, unable to see the greater good that lies beyond their own petty squabbles and self-interests? No, I owe them nothing. If anything, it is they who should be grateful for the knowledge and insights I can provide.

I sigh, running a hand through my hair as I come to a decision. "Very well. I'll... I'll accept your offer."

Zenith's face lights up in a triumphant grin, while Bomb nods, his expression solemn. "Excellent. We're thrilled to have you on board, Doctor Trinh-Norwood."

I hold up a hand, forestalling his words. "Actually, I'd prefer to be addressed as 'Doctor Xenograft', if you don't mind. After all, I'll be taking on a new role within your organization, and I believe the title befits that change in status."

Bomb's brow furrows in a faint scowl, his lips pressing into a thin line. "I'm afraid I can't allow that, Doctor. Our organization maintains a strict code of conduct, bore down from our founder, and the use of particular nomenclature is mandatory. 'Mrs. Xenograft' will have to suffice."

I arch an eyebrow, my lips curving into a wry smile. "Very well, Mr. Bomb. I suppose I can... tolerate that particular indignity, if I must."

Zenith laughs, the rich sound of it filling the dimly lit bar. "Aw, c'mon Bomb, don't be such a hardass. The doc's earned a little respect, don'tcha think?"

Turning to me, she raises her glass in a toast. "Welcome to the Kingdom, Doctor Xenograft. Here's to the start of a beautiful partnership."

I nod, a small smile tugging at the corners of my mouth as I raise my own glass. "To new beginnings, then."

As the icy liquid burns its way down my throat, I can't help but feel a curious sense of anticipation stirring within me. For so long, I've been content to toil away in obscurity, my scientific passions limited by the constraints of conventional morality and the petty machinations of academic politics.

But now... now, I have the chance to truly spread my wings, to push the boundaries of what is possible without the burden of such trifling concerns weighing me down. No more questioning the ethics of my work, no more kowtowing to the whims of short-sighted bureaucrats.

I owe them nothing, these so-called 'normal' people. They've never understood me, never accepted the uniqueness of my gifts. Well, now I have the opportunity to show them all just how extraordinary I can be.

Draining the last of my drink, I set the glass down with a decisive clunk, steeling my resolve. "When do I start?"