The taste of sweet victory was still on Damien’s tongue when he woke up the next morning, though it had been mixed with the bitterness of a somber dream.
This dream had constantly replayed and warped last night’s race in the theater of his mind, right up until he opened his eyes. The events played out largely as they’d happened in real life but the ending had changed. Instead of the grand stand finale where he overtook Clutch to win the race, the finish line in his dream was shrouded with a black fog. As he approached, it seemed to float away from him into the darkness, preventing him from ever reaching it and attaining victory.
“Horaka,” Damien said out loud as he lie in bed. The window of opportunity to catch his target was closing with every passing hour, and that sense of his goal—his target—vanishing into the abyss is what his dream reminded him of. It was a sobering taste that reminded him of what was truly important. Even with no lead to chase, he had to try to make something happen in his pursuit of the TrillTech CEO. With that nagging feeling pulling at him, waiting around for Kat to come up with a plan wouldn’t suffice.
I have noticed that you are now fully awake. Shall I prepare coffee?
He accepted the mental prompt from his home system and launched himself out of bed. After a quick shower and changing into the day’s clothes, he picked up his perfectly-curated coffee from his small kitchen. As always, he stood by the windows of his apartment, enjoying the drink as he stared at the concrete jungle below. Thanks to Zero’s payment after their assault on the TrillTech bio labs, he finally had a place he could call his own. Sure, it wasn’t in one of the most luxurious megacomplexes in the city, but it was fully his own, and he was proud of that fact.
He could now consider himself a proper citizen of Neopolis. He worked, played, and lived here in earnest, and he had the distinct feeling of belonging here. This stability that he’d achieved was certainly nice, but there was much more to come. Up until now, it was all about trying to survive. Now, it was time to thrive. It was time to wholeheartedly make a mark on this city.
Finishing his morning coffee, he let out a deeply satisfying full-body stretch and noticed the time in the corner of his vision. It was 11:15 am, a typical starting time for his day. He was quite the night owl, and the life of a pirate meant that he didn’t have to get up early in the morning like most other people, unless he had a job to go to at a specific time. This freedom was one of the things he loved most about his profession. Apart from the jobs themselves—which he largely hand-picked—there were no chains to hold him down. No one to answer to.
Another prompt demanded his attention; this time it was a text message from Bruce. With a mental command, he opened the mechanic’s message and read it.
Just wanted to say that it was a pleasure to watch you race last night. (The winnings were nice, too!)
Thought you might be pleased to hear that the NPD nabbed Clutch while the rest of us scrammed.
He’ll be out shortly, though. They go real easy on street racers.
Unfortunately for him, it looks like he’ll have to replace his metal leg yet again.
Honestly, that reckless buffoon is gonna get himself killed one of these days.
Anyway, I have a real nice offer for you.
With your skill you’ll shoot up the division ranks in no time, but how’d you like something a little more exciting in between these registered league races?
I’m talking about a real EVENT here. A classic ol’ tournament to be precise. Payout’s nice and juicy, too.
It’s real simple. Three races back to back. Standings determine the point distribution. The better you place the more points you get. The one with the most points after those three races wins the tournament prizes.
Let me know if you’re interested and I’ll hook you up.
Damien cracked his neck as he closed the message, deciding that he’ll reply to it later. It sure sounded fun but he had some serious business to get down to. More street races could wait. He had to focus fully on his business with TrillTech and Horaka. Until that was dealt with, there would be no racing, no partying, no girls, no…
Ah, damn it.
There was still that date with Lana which was now just 2 days away, and he still had no clue where to take her or what activity to do. He’d probably have figured something out by now if she was less… unusual. But she wouldn’t accept anything less than perfection, and that was just making it harder to think of ideas.
It’ll come to me… eventually…
He made his way to his weapons rack and checked out the small collection of swords he’d accumulated. The apartment had a nice storage display built into the side of the wall, and he loved placing his weapons there and admiring the small exhibition. Best of all, it connected directly to the UTS, so he could have them delivered to him to any other UTS terminal within the city.
He performed a scan on each of them as he pondered which one to take with him today. It was kind of like choosing a pair of shoes, except he wasn’t too worried about how well his sword matched the rest of his outfit.
Volt Blade
Damage: 42
Bonuses: +10 Electrical Damage
Rarity: Uncommon
Condition: Good
Kimura X-3 Katana [AR-V]
Damage: 50
Bonuses: 25% Armor Penetration, +10 Thermal Damage
Rarity: Uncommon
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Condition: Good
Kranton G1 Katana
Damage: 38
Rarity: Common
Condition: Excellent
"I think I’m feeling the sparks with you today," he said as he picked up the Volt Blade and prepared to start his day. Sure, the Kimura X-3 was more powerful, but it was also bulkier, and the armor penetration was a nice bonus but rarely necessary. If there wasn’t a heavy battle on the day’s agenda, the Volt Blade was generally the preference as a day -to-day weapon.
With that decision out of the way, there was still the matter of where to eat breakfast. Luckily, his new favorite spot was just a short walk away.
He exited into the cramped and dingy hallways of his megacomplex. As he’d come to expect, the sounds of people hollering echoed throughout the building, as they did from virtually dusk until dark. This was largely because on top of the resident apartments, the complex’s interior had a lot of shared spaces open to the public. People mingled, laughed, argued, and some times squabbled all inside this one building. As usual, Damien kept to himself as he took the elevator to the street level.
The air outside had a murkiness to it, probably from all the ground vents letting out warm air. There was even more noise out here in the streets, and Damien steered clear of two drunks who were accusing one another of something right around the corner. It was just another day in Neopolis, and things like this gave the city more character in his eyes.
A tram passed him overhead as he crossed the street, bringing a smirk to Damien’s face. Thanks to the Tiger, his days of riding inside of overcrowded public transportation were now behind him, but he still enjoyed going on the occasional walk. It let him take in his surroundings in a way that he couldn’t do while riding a bike or any other vehicle.
He rounded another corner and entered Mark’s Diner, the best all-day breakfast in the entire world as far as he was concerned. Sitting at an empty booth, he ordered the classic bacon and eggs with hot sauce, and started contemplating his next moves. How could he get to Horaka before Zero’s deadline? He let his mind wander.
Maybe some classic physical espionage of the TrillTech headquarters? That would be dangerous, especially going about it all on his own. Marcus was busy working with Big G in preparation of that so-called upcoming gang war. Kat on the other hand, was busy with… whatever she’s busy with. As for himself, TrillTech and Horaka were the only things weighing on this mind. Yet that weight had an existential heaviness to it. He had to learn more about those bio labs and is missing memories.
So that’s all he did as he ate his filing and delicious breakfast. Plotted... Schemed... How could he get close to one of the most heavily guarded people in the city? He searching for a solution somewhere in the ether of his consciousness,
He’d just about finished eating when his thought were interrupted.
Call from Valerie
Answer - Decline
Hmmm. That’s odd. She typically sends messages instead of calling. Must be important.
She always got down to business quickly, so Damien answered succinctly. “Yes?”
“Ghost. I need you to take on a job pronto. No time to waste.”
Is there ever time to waste with you? he thought. “I’m kind of busy these next few days-”
“Unacceptable. I’ve had three private hires go missing in the last week. Their cases need to be filled, and you’re low on the totem pole.”
Damien sighed. “Look, now’s not the best time. I’ve got-”
“Again. Unacceptable. You should know this because I’m calling you directly. But I’m still a reasonable person, so I’ll let you have your pick. I’m sending over three jobs now. Message me back with your choice.”
Before Damien could reply, the communication line cut, and he was left to mumble his irritation to himself. He finished the remainder of his food and opened the message that followed. As much of an annoyance as this was, this gig with Valerie was too good to throw away.
I’ll just pick the quickest job and rush through it.
Sure enough, her message came with three jobs listed in detail. He worked his way through them, starting with the first one, which was a simple trailing job. From the description, it seemed like some hotshot businessman was worried that his daughter was getting caught up with some local gangsters.
Damien read the clients comments under his breath. “Confirm that she’s running around with those low lives. If she is, kill them so she’ll get some sense scared into her. She needs to learn not to associate with some pathetic street thugs.” It was quite the heavy handed approach, but it made sense in a way.
Hmm. This one might take a while. Let’s see what’s next.
The second job was another request from a high-level businessman, except this one was looking for a bodyguard. Damien skimmed over the client’s name at first, but he returned to it again.
Cole Palmer… Cole Palmer… Where have I seen that name before?…
He searched through his memory as the name teased him, like a feather touching him lightly, demanding his attention.
I know I've… That’s it!
In a flash it came to him. He mentally activated the GPI storage system in his neural network and looked through the saved files. He’d stored every piece of public information that he’d found related to Horaka and TrillTech. Palmer had been mentioned somewhere in some file, he was certain of it. Sure enough, he quickly found the news article with that name.
Cole Palmer was the CEO of Harkwin Industries, and the article detailed the allegations of, among other illegal deals, price fixing between his company and TrillTech. This meant that in all likelihood, Palmer had been face to face with Horaka to discuss those deals. If it happened before, it’s possible that it’ll happen again.
There’s a chance that he’d bring a bodyguard to those meetings…
He turned back to the job description and read through it in full. It stated that Palmer wanted a bodyguard for one evening, but it didn’t give any further details. But why just one evening? That fact put a slight dent in Damien’s hopes, but he wouldn’t throw away a single lead, no matter how small.
Skimming through the third job, it turned out to be a simple assassination mission, something that he wasn’t interested in at all. He turned back to the second option and read the name once more. Cole Palmer. This man had most likely been face to face with Damien’s target. Even if this job was only for one evening, and there would be no meeting during that time frame, maybe he could get some information on Horaka. It was a long shot, but a shot he was willing to take nonetheless.
According to Valerie’s notes, the job would require an in-person briefing later this evening. If the briefing would happen today, then the job itself would likely be on another day. Probably the day after.
If I accept this job, there’s a chance I’ll have to cancel the date with Lana. No… she won’t accept that. I can’t miss that date. Do I accept this job—as much of a long shot as it is—and risk getting on her bad side even more?
He mulled it over for a while, before coming to a decision. With a mental command, he sent a reply to Valerie.
I’ll take the second job.