Gatrim steadily marched forward, his broken pickaxe shaft in hand. Clangs echoed behind him as Itsy worked to bring down the tunnel. She was attempting to collapse them in a way that wouldn’t set off a chain reaction. While the woman had no experience in mining, she insisted that she had a lifetime of experience dealing with supports—both in automobiles and anything she sat or stepped upon, so she knew how to make something collapse in a more meaningful way.
It didn’t take long for the Lesser to encounter his first guard. They were marching through the tunnel with expedience, trying to deduce the source of the noise. Gatrim didn’t even give them the chance to make their demands or to fight back in any way. He dashed right past the guard and then jabbed them in the back of the knee—one of their few vulnerable points.
The time for restraint and passiveness had passed, and Gatrim wasn’t about to consider the plight of slave drivers. He wasn’t going to leave them to die, though—crushed under the rubble. At the very least, that could potentially hamper the investigation, so it was incentive enough to see that they survived.
But before offering any sort of assistance, the man ripped off the guard’s helmet and took a picture of her face. That was the second advantage of making such a commotion. Anyone who was involved in their scheme should come running if they believed it to be at risk. Hopefully that would sort out all the corroborators from the actual good and well-intentioned guards. He could only pray that some actually existed.
They’d take pictures of all the perpetrators they could uncover to turn in with the rest of their evidence. While the guards would get to live, their lives would be over. That was something they assuredly understood too, and they wouldn’t be holding back either. He had to assume they’d be at the top of their game and do everything to stop him.
But Gatrim was well beyond the threat of humans now. They’d only managed to injure him during his last escape because his pride was on the line, forcing him to recover his stolen items and face them openly and honorably during his escape. That wouldn’t be the case this time. They didn’t deserve the pleasure of his courtesy, so now he’d hold nothing back.
Two more guards approached right when Gatrim was about to exit the mouth of the tunnel. He threw the woman he was toting at one of them, knocking them over while he dashed at the second, stabbing them through the joint of their armor right at their hip. After removing their helmets and getting more pictures, the Lesser tossed them all like ragdolls out into the mine’s main chamber.
There a crowd was waiting for him, hopefully the rest of the crooked guards—about twenty in total, all raving and ranting about what to do. But now all eyes were on Gatrim. The boy did a flourish with his pseudo-rapier and reintroduced himself. “Some of you may remember me. I am Gatrim Foilepe of the Fiends For Hire, and I was tasked with the job of bringing the truth here to light.”
“Now I know you’ll try to stop me, but I should forewarn you that all the evidence we’ve recorded has already been sent off to the governmental authorities. Justice is coming one way or another. And I’ll give you one chance right now. Surrender and throw down your arms, or I will make it so you can never hold a weapon again.”
The boy was only met with silence and raised guns, their response vocalized by the gunfire that came his way. So predictable. Gatrim dashed forward, blinking past the barrage of bullets headed his way. The boy had never thought too deeply about it, why his family had such a strange, almost supernatural ability. But since it meant he could surpass his peers, he didn’t care to uncover the reason.
Gatrim reappeared in front of the rearmost guard, making good on his promise. The spiked wood pierced through the ruffian's hand, forcing them to drop their weapon. And then the boy dashed away again before the group could re-aim. His fighting style was suited for duels, not for groups, but that just meant he had to change up his mentality.
He wasn’t fighting a big group, but rather each guard one at a time in quick succession. If he thought of it like that, the fight became much more manageable—just had to be wary of any stray shots and sudden movements. Ultimately, they were all feeble humans in his eyes, but even humans could be surprising.
This group, however, was not. Their actual lack of experience and training shone through quickly in the face of a real fight. Up until that point, they’d been mostly relying on intimidation and the level of their gear to get them through. But that wouldn’t work on someone over whom they held no real power. Their authority meant nothing to him, and their skills didn’t back up their shortcomings.
It wouldn’t be entirely true to say that Gatrim took no pleasure in the act—getting revenge against those who had tormented him for months, those who had been abusing their station for years. He certainly hadn’t been treated the worst, but his daily life had still been at inhuman levels, and he understood now that the justice system needed serious reform.
The boy had unlocked new respect for Drim and his ilk, those who strove for more in their ideals than just personal betterment. And maybe he would tackle those institutions himself in the future after experiencing first hand the rot of the world, outside of his previously limited scope. Nobility be damned. Humans were humans, no one person more worthy than another.
Each had their own obligation to strive to be the best that he could be, and the Lesser now really understood his own shortcomings in that regard. To be the best no longer meant being the strongest, the most revered and famous among them. Gatrim just had to be the best to himself, to Kaizu, to anyone who relied on him.
Starting then and there, the real legacy of The Memory began. Those guards would never forget him, how easily he defeated them one by one, tore through their armor, their ambitions, their hopes. A real monster who had come to judge them for their sins. Meanwhile, another monster hacked away at the tunnels around them, ruining their chance for a better future, shaking them to their very core. A truly traumatic experience.
Only once did the guards have a glimmer of a chance of turning the tide. The majority of them had all been clustered in the main chamber, a few more joining them from up above, only to be caught in Gatrim’s slaughter. However, there had been two more guards sent to roam the tunnels before the start of the collapse.
They both met up and watched the carnage with fear in their eyes, not daring to step out from the shadows. Instead, they bided their time and aimed their guns, hoping to line up a shot, hoping for Gatrim to take a breath, a pause, a stumble—any opportunity to put down the lunatic.
Neither of them saw the glint of metal slide around their necks before it was too late. And just as Gatrim stabbed through the hand of the final guard of the bunch, the two lying in wait were flung forward into the rooms, suffocated by chains. Their captor, Kaizu, stepped out behind them into the light, a devilish smirk on her face.
“Ah, Kaizu, perfect timing,” Gatrim greeted her eagerly as if he’d been waiting around, bored out of his mind. “Those must be the chains from the cells, good thinking. Let’s wrap them all up and get their helmets off. Time for these mawhgers to shine in the spotlight. Not as brightly as us, of course.”
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The pair smooshed the villains together in one big pile, weaving the chains around each of their torsos, making sure none of them had a wiggling chance of escape. While they were in the middle of meticulously removing helmets and taking mugshots, the cracks and crashes suddenly stopped and a jaunty whistling came echoing down the tunnels.
“Oh hey there, guys,” Itsy waved to them, pickaxe casually resting over her shoulder. “Dang, didn’t think you’d be finishing up so fast. I was lollygagging to give ya some more time. But I’ll pick up the pace and collapse the rest of the tunnels right quick. Go ahead and take ‘em up the stairs. Heh, if they don’t want to die that is.”
“You heard the woman,” Gatrim reemphasized to the guards once they’d taken the last of the pictures. “Get up and get moving or stay here and get buried alive.” The two Lessers then lead the chain-gang of restrained guards back to the surface.
There, they came across another small group of guards. Weapons were raised and pointed, but not at the Lessers. Roque’s inside man came forward and informed them that he’d explained the situation to a few coworkers that he believed they could trust. In a lovely twist of irony, they shoved all the offenders into a single solitary cell for the time being, at least until the incident passed.
From there, they’d wait for word from the government, before proceeding further. If there were any corrupt administrators, they’d be smart not to show their hand and try to get the criminal staff set free in the meantime. Hopefully Roque and Deborah had luck on their end finding any culprits. It was evidence that the Lessers certainly wouldn’t be able to acquire themselves.
After one final loud crash, everything settled. The clanging stopped, the prisoners and guards calmed down, and Itsy trudged her way up the steps from the wrecked mine. She had a huge nugget of silver in her arms, possibly the biggest ever seen in the world. “For my troubles,” she insisted when people started to stare.
The three of them were then sent with some of the guards as escorts to make sure that they weren’t given any more trouble in their escape. But when they got into the garage, Crucion popped in surprise, waving the confiscated shotgun at them. “Get bac- oh it’s you guys. Phew…” the boy eagerly chucked away the firearm that he’d no longer need.
“You did good, Crucion,” Itsy praised him. “But scooch aside, mama’s gon’ drive.” She was the kind of person who always insisted on being behind the wheel, probably because that seat offered the most legroom.
The four of them got settled into the van and busted out of the garage as soon as the door opened. But unlike Gatrim’s last escape, there were no spotlights following them or turrets firing. Within a minute, they were out of sight of the prison with no pursuers in tow. It was a clean getaway.
For the next hour of their drive, almost nothing was said. Each of them needed to take some time to decompress and work through the chaos of their shared experience. When conversation did start again, it was about simple, shallow things like what they wanted to eat or the first things they’d do when they got back home.
But eventually, their words turned towards work. They discussed the evidence that each of them collected. It would need to be compiled, sifted through, and organized. Maybe they could enlist Chorus or Victori’s help in that regard since they were much more experienced with knowing what information was valuable and important.
The group also shared their own unique experiences that happened to them during their incarceration. It was mostly to add what could be useful to the report, but for some of it, they just needed to vent or talk about something stupid. There was still a considerable amount of work to be done before they could consider the job complete, but for now, a well-deserved rest was in order.
When the compound was in sight, Kaizu leaned towards Gatrim in the back-seat and whispered, “So do you think you’ll be heading out again right away?”
“No,” Gatrim answered definitively. “I think I’ll stick around for a while. Really figure out what my role is in this group instead of pretending to be a solo-act. And I think maybe a friend of mine has missed my presence.”
“Full of yourself again already,” Kaizu smirked. “Welcome back, Gatrim.”
Fiends For Hire Job Report
Job No. 082492
Status:
Completed
Date Received:
1/1/2079
Date Accepted:
1/4/2079
Date Completed:
4/20/2079
Client: Callum Briz, Vice-Representatative of Regend
Reward: As much as I can leverage from the outsourcing budget. Minimum $50,000 Commons.
Post-Job Additional Reward: 7% of silver sales.
Original Request: Greetings, Fiends For Hire. I’m one of Regend’s Vice-Reps, Callum Briz. There’s a certain prison in our country where Lessers have been going missing and returned in ill-form. I’d like your group to infiltrate the prison under-cover and obtain any evidence of wrong-doing.
Requirements for Completion:
* Obtain any and all evidence of mistreatment towards Lessers in the prison and violations made by the prison staff.
Job accepted by:
* Gatrim Foilepe
* Kaizu Izuzu
* Crucion Wirks
* Itsy Humdiddy
Additional Notes:
(Itsy) Wonder if they got prisons made for big people. That whole dang place was too small and weak. After I broke my bed twice they just left my mattress on the floor. Disrespectful and uncomfortable.
(Kaizu) After seeing what my life could lead to if I ever got caught, I will now strive to be a better person. At working even harder to not get caught. I don’t mind the Fiends For Hire prison, but that existence was just miserable.
(Crucion) Happy to have been included on the mission, but I think I’ll stick to my usual job for a while. Mallea has been working me to death to make up for all the time I missed.
(Gatrim) All evidence has been compiled and submitted. It’s out of our hands. We can only hope that it will lead to proper change.
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(Gatrim) Update as of 5/24/2079: I have included the report from our requestor below, verbatim.
Greetings, Fiends For Hire. I am skirting protocol to provide you with this information, but I believe it is well deserved. Thanks to the evidence you’ve submitted, all culpable guards and administrative staff have been caught and prosecuted. Part of the prison had to be temporarily shut-down due to staffing issues, minor structural damage, and the extraction efforts of the mine, but it should be back up and running at full capacity next month.
The rights to the mine itself were claimed by the Regend government. Repairs to the prison will be paid directly out of this fund, along with reparations to the Lesser Fiends who were forced into labor and poor conditions. Additionally, a small percentage of the silver sales will be included in your reward until the mine is depleted. I hope this is a sufficient reward for all that you’ve done and that the Fiends For Hire and the country of Regend can have an amicable business relationship moving forward.
Thank you for all your hard work,
Callum Briz, Vice-Representatative of Regend
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(Roque) The guy I planted is now Vice-captain of the guards. Do I know how to place people or what?