◆Phon◆
“Do you mind if I keep working while we do this?” Phon asked as she sat down in one of the chairs in her room. “Just some light scouting work.”
“Oh, no go ahead,” Chiulu insisted as she headed to the chair opposite of The Vixen.
“Thank you,” Phon smirked the moment Chiulu’s butt hit the seat’s cushion. The very next second, the two women were suddenly on stage in front of a massive auditorium, their chairs moved with them. It was obvious that The Bureaucrat had no idea where she’d been taken. Though with how much her head was reeling from the transition, she didn’t have her full faculties to look around thoroughly.
“I guess Tusmon sent you to do the dirty work,” Phon didn’t even address the change of venue. “Well, I expected he’d do as much.”
“If I’m honest,” Chiulu mentioned as soon as she could sit up straight again. “I don’t believe he likes you very much.”
“Oh good,” The Vixen almost sounded relieved. “With how buddy-buddy our groups have been lately, I didn’t want him to have the false impression that we were ever going to be friends.”
“Is there any particular reason the two of you are so hostile towards each other?” Chiulu pried, seeing a rare opportunity to dig into her boss’ personal life.
“He’s just so clingy. It’s creepy,” Phon said with a straight face. “Ever since the day we met, he keeps coming back. It’s like he has no other hobbies or interests. As if he was a stalker but with legal permission. If I knew he was going to be so annoying, I’d say we should have let him fall to his death the first night we met.”
“Well, I’m glad that you didn’t,” the man’s assistant seemed to be the only one on his side. “I do think he’s changed a bit since then. A lot more light-hearted and carrying, not so fixated. And I do believe we’ve been doing genuine good.”
“If you say so,” Phon shrugged. “Can we get this over with?”
“Uhh, sure,” Chiulu pulled up her papers. “Could you state your full legal name please.”
“Phon Drazah,” the woman answered. But as she did, they were teleported again, this time into some eerie woods with fog trickling around them, possibly to set the mood of how Phon saw herself.
And as the questions continued, Phon kept teleporting them with each one. There didn’t seem to be any real purpose or direction in mind, as if it was entirely random, rather than for actual scouting as the woman had claimed. Chiulu eventually deduced that it was all entirely to mess with her.
As the woman performing the interview got more used to sudden teleportations, Phon began moving them at a more rapid pace—a new location every second. It was like speeding through a flip book, but every page had a new background.
Chiulu’s instinct was to close her eyes, but in order to continue with the interview, she had to look at her papers. While she knew the questions by heart, she still had to jot down the answers. But with the world blurring all around her, it made it so difficult to concentrate, let alone write down anything coherent or remotely legible.
They were taken all over Rathe as far as The Bureaucrat could tell. They went to a desert, to a lakeside, to a library, to a museum, to the southern ice shelf, to a random bathroom that was fortunately empty. In those few minutes, Chiulu experienced more of the world than she had in a lifetime, but never got the chance to appreciate any of it.
The only time Phon would slow down her teleporting was when she wanted to interact with something at their new location. At a soup factory, she knocked over a tub of spices into the large cooking vat, saying it would give it more flavor. In a random alley, she kicked a drug dealer in the gonads. At an office in someone’s house, she picked up a file and smiled. “Ah, I’ve been looking for this evidence. This trip was worth it.”
From there, the teleportation only intensified—Chiulu’s mind devolving into goo trying to keep up with it all, to the point that she wasn’t even trying to ask questions anymore—just survive. At some point, she was pretty sure they were over a volcano and then underwater, but it became too difficult to keep track and accept reality. Then the rapid-fire trip suddenly came to a stop and the woman perked up, looking around, wondering where they were.
The two women were sitting amongst a sea of tables, all covered in countless desserts and delicacies. Phon picked up a plate of pie from one and began eating.
“Wait, isn’t this the Central Peace?” Chiulu suddenly recognized the banquet hall.
“Sure is,” Phon mumbled with her mouth full. “Zjik organization, but they make good food, I will say. Oh, let me get one for Jaid. I’m sure she misses them.”
Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.
“We-you-we can’t be here!” The Bureaucrat exclaimed, looking at the doors, waiting for someone to burst in and bust them.
“Sure we can,” The Vixen clearly didn’t share her worries. “Go ahead and get something. It’s my treat.”
“Well alright,” Chiulu hesitantly picked out a slice of cake.
As soon as the dish was in her hand, Phon then spouted, “And by that, I mean I’m stealing them.” They were then teleported again to an isolated beach where the women enjoyed their deserts in peace as a bit of a respite. And once they’d finished, Phon didn’t teleport them anymore until the end, properly answering the questions that would have only taken a few minutes if she hadn’t been feeling sadistic.
◆Niloy◆
“So this is where we make it all,” Niloy continued her guided tour, showing Tusmon around the factory where her FYND brand makeup was made. “All the workers have chairs to sit in, cus standing for too long sucks zjik. They have flexible hours, full benefits, plenty of breaks, and no deadlines. If the work takes longer for their comfort, well that’s fine. I’m in no rush.”
The Flesh-Eater then dipped her finger into one of the makeup vats. “I always tweak it just a little bit extra myself, so that each batch is unique. But now onto the fun part.” Niloy eagerly led the detective out of the factory into a studio. “We’re going to have a photoshoot today.” She then waved her hands around. “These are some of my models.”
Tusmon’s eyes widened with genuine surprise. There were a few men, but it was mostly women. However, it wasn’t the gaggle of supermodels that the man had been expecting. They were all unique in some way. One man was in a wheelchair, a woman was missing an arm. There was a pair of conjoined twins, and many more clearly had some sort of birth defect or developmental disorder.
And even then, there was a wild range of ages. From teenagers to grandparents, someone of every race and generation. Before he could stop his mouth, the man accidentally muttered, “They’re all—”
“Beautiful?” Niloy cut in. “I think that’s the word you’re looking for.
“Yes, that they are,” the detective lowered his eyes, trying to cease his gawking. But he found them hard not to stare at, not because of any disability, but because of how happy they all looked. The group was chatting together, laughing, having a great time while many put makeup on one another. It was so lively and chipper, like nothing about them was slowing down their lives or their fun. It was genuinely beautiful to see.
“This is Yonee,” Niloy brought a young woman over to him. “She’s the first model I ever scouted, and used to be paralyzed from the neck down. Today, she’ll be applying your makeup.”
“Wait, my what?!” Tusmon was caught off-guard, taking a hesitant step back.
Niloy couldn’t contain her smirk. “Yes, you see, I’ve been having a hard time capturing the young-to-middle-aged male market. They’re the most stubborn when it comes to makeup, touting masculinity and such things—so resistant to the idea, like you’re saying you’re going to castrate them. Because of that, it’s hard to find models too. But I have a willing one today, and I’m going to take advantage of it.”
“So, everyone, it seems our model here might need a bit more encouragement. Let’s make sure he doesn’t escape and give Yonee a hand.”
In the blink of an eye, Tusmon was surrounded by all sides. Originally, he tried to block his face, but it was a battle he quickly lost, and eventually, he just gave in. Combs tugged at his hair, brushes danced across his cheeks. They did something at some point to his eyes that he wasn’t sure about, but he found it hard not to wince the entire time.
But it wasn’t long before the crowd scattered and Tusmon was left standing in front of a mirror. Niloy popped up next to him and cheekily asked, “Soooooo, what’cha think?
The Investigator let out a deep guttural sigh and checked himself out again. “Damn it. I look really handsome.”
“Ha, knew you’d like it,” The Flesh-Eater let out a self-satisfied last. “Now how are you with posing? It’s time to get you in front of the camera.”
◆Valen◆
“Where are you off to today, Rezin?” Valen fiddled with a vial of Phon’s blood between her fingers, stationed at her usual Express Booth down in the tunnels at the For Hire compound.
“Uhhh, gaming convention in Horage,” the young man twiddled his thumbs, clearly nervous despite having used the transport hundreds of times.
“Ah, I wanted to go to that,” The Bloodletter grumbled. “But I couldn’t get the time off. Games aren’t exactly my thing—well, except for dating sims—but it’s so fun to see all the cosplays and cool designs. Gives me lots of ideas. Is there a game demo there that you’re wanting to try out?”
“No uhhh,” Rezin got even more nervous, struggling to find the words to speak. “My studio is actually announcing our game today. First time showing it off to the public.”
“Wow, that’s amazing!” Valen clapped her hands together. “Well good luck! From what I’ve seen of it already, it’s going to be amazing. And don’t forget to consult me when it’s time to flesh out the romance options. Good luck!”
After the boy departed, there came a steady stream of Fiends and Lessers all wanting to take the Valen Express. The woman didn’t even need to ask where most of them were going, at least for the residents, since they were being sent to their regular normal-folk jobs. Ever since Valen’s addition, long distance work had opened so many more avenues for them.
Eventually, after the morning rush, the tunnels cleared out, only a few stragglers coming now and then. And Chiulu began asking Valen her interview questions between each one. But once they were truly alone, The Bloodletter suddenly turned to the woman and asked. “So are you two dating, or what? You and Tusmon.”
That flabbergasted Chiulu so much that she tripped and flopped to the ground, spilling her papers everywhere. As she picked them up and tried to recompose herself, the woman’s answer was nothing but incoherent mumbling for quite some time with her cheeks fully flushed red, but as she finally spat out, “N-no it’s nothing like that. We’re coworkers and nothing more!”
“If you say so,” Valen didn’t pry further. “But that’s not how it plays out in my head. I think I’ll make you two the focus of my next story. It’s going to be so fun… and definitely a little spicy.”