Rounding the corner, I immediately backpedaled and swung.
SPLAT
G-class pest “Crawler” defeated! +2 AP
Vesper hadn’t been kidding, this place had monsters all over the place. Exploration hadn’t exactly been optimal when I needed to keep circling back to avoid too many crawlers from stalking me at the same time. I’d barely even managed to see a fifth of it, every other minute a monster would join the conga-line trying to get the jump on me. I’d thought mouthers were the only thing I’d find in large numbers, but in this area the crawlers were ever-present. On one hand, it was a little refreshing to have an entirely new kind of G-class to mulch. On the other, the way they approached combat was through trying to ambushing me over and over. And over.
And over.
And over.
+Senses
. .∟Hearing:
+Speed:
. .∟Agility:
5+ -> 5+
5 [09%] -> [33%]
5+ -> 5+
5 [10%] -> [48%]
Which had meant needing to constantly stay on my toes, reacting at the slightest sound. Crawler claws were nasty things, and they had a habit of aiming for the throat. It made them predictable, but it also meant needing to keep constant vigilance against unexpected angles of attack.
A swoosh, I ducked, sidestepping and taking another swing.
I’d missed, but so had the crawler.
My next swing didn’t.
SPLAT
Breathing in, I shifted slightly, trying to pay attention to the sounds around me beyond the buzz of drones. There’d been no F’s or E’s so far, but I felt like I was being followed by something more dangerous than the crawlers. It was like there’d been a pair of eyes fixed to the back of my head for the past ten-odd minutes. The scent in the air carried with it a heaviness that made my neck feel heavy. It sent a little thrill, wondering when the attack would come, from where… would I be able to beat it with the pipe? Would I need the Bulstra?
I licked my lips, ignoring the heat as I prepared myself.
Shame I couldn’t transform. It meant that if things got out of hand, I’d need to actually ask for help.
Charisma +3 -> +4
“Fudge you.” I laughed, a bit glad the system agreed with me on this one.
Rounding the corner again, there were no monsters on the other side waiting for me. So I made a run for it, straight towards the direction I’d come from. The moment I had rounded the next corner, there’d been a scrambling of claws behind me. My stalker had shifted gears into a chase before I could escape, and as I took to the next corner, I spun around and swung downward.
Metal met skull.
This monster didn’t pop.
There was a solid crack, a shot of pain up my arms, followed by the very unfortunate breaking of the metal pipe I’d grown fond of over the past few hours. The monster, on the other hand, stumbled and tumbled, crashing against the ground as it lost its balance. It was reptilian, with a body covered in shimmering grey scales, with large claws and razor-sharp fangs. I'd seen dozens of pictures of the thing.
F-class, distortion-type, Mirage.
45$. That was the cost of taking the shot, should I? I was aware that the trio were watching me closely. I’d tried to keep my feats of strength semi-reasonable. Sure, I’d splattered G’s, but that was something any mildly cybernetic enhanced human could do… but getting into a tussle with an F-class and come out on top? That'd be something only viable for someone with a lot of cybernetics. Should I call it quits here? How much was the bounty for an F in New Francisco anyway? Definitely not enough to cover for the bullet I’d be spending on it. Heck, an E might barely net 30$ if it was a rarer type, and mirages were not very rare.
Fuck it. I’d save my bullets for any E’s if they showed up or if I had to deal with two F’s at once. For now though, I'd need to find a better way to kill this thing. Making a run for it before the monster could recover its wits, I began looking for a possible successor to my improvised weapon. The place wasn’t exactly littered with sturdy pipes, but there was plenty of rusted rebar and concrete.
The monster started giving chase again right as I found a piece of shattered reinforced concrete in between a bunch of rotting plywood. With barely any time to put my idea to the test, I was forced to quickly put broken columns and unfinished stairs between myself and the mirage. It roared at me in anger, clawing and biting at the obstacles, the rebar proving tougher than it thought, but not enough to stop it. As it broke through, it set free a piece of rebar with a chunk of cement at the end. I rushed around the debris, picking up the weapon once I’d made it back. The mirage was good with burst speed, but it was really shitty at keeping that going.
Prize in tow, I ran out of the ruined room.
The downward swing of my improvised hammer met its skull. There was a crack, the monster thrashing as it tried to throw me away. Stumbling back, I found my footing and with a roar took another swing before it could recover its wits. This time the crack was followed by a splat and a large splatter. The body slumped.
F-class monster “Mirage” defeated! Pick your Reward!
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+5 AP / ‘Shimmer’
Panting, I picked the ‘shimmer’ option (pushing it to 3/10) and leaned against the wall to catch my breath. The hot-box weather had not abated, the humidity mixed with the heat had been draining me even when I’d kept to the shade. It was a decent exercise all things considered, shame it would’ve been lethal under more normal circumstances.
+Strength:
. .∟Endurance:
5+ -> 5+
5 [34%] -> [41%]
“Thanks.” I mumbled, glancing at the dead mirage as it bubbled and frothed, turning into that nasty smelling cloud. “I think I’ll call it in for now, I need a break.”
AP 35 / 150
I wondered at what point would I get to “spend” that AP, but that was a problem for future Axel. Present Axel needed to get dunked in a cold bathtub and get something to eat.
Also probably gloat over the techie brat.
----------------------------------------
It took me a bit of meandering, and I ended up having to kill another G-class along the way, but eventually I’d managed to reach the others. Quinn was on the rusty truck's roof, working on his shattered dreams drone, while Vesper was seated on the trunk. Or I at least was fairly sure the one on the trunk of the car was Vesper, she’d taken off the weather-gear. She looked barely a handful of years older than me, head shaved and covered in iridescent blue tattoos. Her eyes had the tell-tale glimmer of watching something through her augs.
“Hey.” I called out.
Vesper threw a bottle of lukewarm water without even turning to look my way. “Two things.” Blinking twice, the glow in her eyes vanished, and she finally focused on me. “First, I don’t care if you have something to hide, just don’t treat us like idiots. Whatever bioware the doc put into you is none of our business. What I do give a shit about is knowing whether something is beyond what you can handle.”
As much as I wanted to dispute the claim (mostly because of how annoying it was that I didn’t have any augs whatsoever), it would’ve been a useless argument. At this point there didn't seem to be any point to insisting on it. So I just sighed and gave a slight nod of acknowledgement she had a point.
Vesper tossed me a packaged burrito. I checked the brand:'Troubled Mystery Foods'. She continued. “Second, we are a gang.”
“You made that clear already.”
“No, I didn’t, because you don’t get what being a gang means.” She pulled at the collar of her shirt, showing a mouse pin. “Thick or thin, we stick together, and we stick for each other. You are new, but you bring trouble, the doc made that clear already. If you want us to help you, then you’ll have to do the same for us.”
I nodded. “I don’t do murder.”
Vesper furrowed pierced brows. “Elaborate.”
“Not much to elaborate,” I said. “I’ll defend myself and others, but that's my line. My goal is to kill monsters and help people, not the other way around.” Maybe I was being a bit too forceful about it, but I preferred drawing the line on the sand now.
Vesper, however, looked glad, grinning slightly. “Yeah, that’s fair. Honestly a bit glad, we don't do that sort of stuff.”
“Wait, really?”
Quinn let out a snort, but didn't bother to answer. Vesper on the other hand nodded along. “The Sewer Saints were started as an offshoot of the Desert Rats. Our focus has always been around killing monsters and keeping the other gangs from getting any funny ideas.” She explained with a shrug. “Though, most of our efforts as of late have had a lot more focus on the later of those two. Ever since Beatrice left, we’ve been bleeding members.”
Blinking slowly and biting into the meal, I gave her a flat look. “Assume I don’t know any of the things you just mentioned.”
“The Desert Rats are one of the six largest gangs in New Francisco’s rubber wall. The Sewer Saints are one of a dozen smaller city-gangs that make up the Desert Rats’ urban branch.” She pointed at the looming massive wall. “They work their butt off over at the wall, and they step in if any of the other major gangs want to fuck with us. In exchange, we give them half of our profit margin. There are other bonuses, and costs, but that’s the thick of it.”
“Beatrice was our meguca.” Quinn muttered.
“Our?” My eyes narrowed, feeling a swell of... protectiveness? Odd, I wasn't even sure where it was coming from. Something to think about it more deeply later.
“Careful there, let’s not start something.” Vesper quickly spoke up. “Way things work around here is that no gang can keep a territory without a meguca. Most major gangs make that a hard rule, but the Rats don’t make a fuss if you pay your share. Thing is, with a meguca in the roster, we bleed a lot less money. Beatrice was part of that, she joined, she grew with us, and-”
“-she threw us into the train-tracks at the first opportunity.” Quinn growled from underneath their helmet.
Somehow, I got the impression Moreau’s goal for me here was to “follow the process”, it had an efficiency to it that felt tested. How long had things been working this way? “Was this departure related to the D-class?”
“Partially.” She didn’t elaborate, but I did notice Quinn growing slightly tense. “Anyway, we haven’t had a meguca since Beatrice, and that’s been making things harder for everyone. If not for the doc, we would’ve probably gone under by now.” She gave me a firm nod. “That’s where you come in.”
I was about to point out there was a very big “if I decide to join” caveat, but that would’ve probably been too contrarian on my part. Especially after they’d readily agreed to the line I’d drawn on the sand.
“I go around killing monsters and you cash in the bounty?”
“That would be the thick of it. Though we’ve got our own tricks to make monster-killing more profitable.”
That immediately caught my attention. “Really?”
“Do you know where the bounties come from?”
“CYPHER.” I answered without missing a beat. “Their AI programs take in data from any and all kills and encounters, and add them. Even if it’s redundant data, it’s still useful to make the AI’s better at their job. Supposedly a percentage of the bounty is also paid by the citizens, but what that percentage is varies greatly.”
Quinn shuffled from the top of the car. “Surprising a brute like you knows this.”
“Ignore him, he’ll be a pain until Cecilia’s up and running again.” Vesper quickly waved off. “The reason the bounties cover as much as they do is because there are many other companies seeking to train their own AI’s. And some companies are more interested than others in getting certain kinds of data.”
“Oh.” I rubbed my chin. “So if there’s a standard bounty on killing a crawler, there might be a company that wishes to pay extra for data involving a crawler killed by blunt force.”
Vesper nodded at that. “Exactly. We’ve got a few data-brokers who’ve helped us set-up lists. How much extra we get from each kill varies, it can swing anywhere from a 10% bonus to triple the original bounty.”
I whistled. With bonuses like that, then maybe shooting the F-class in the head wouldn’t have been a net cost loss. “What’s the other method?”
“Streaming.”
“Well, yeah, you have to stream the monster kill to have an assurance it wasn’t-”
“No, not JUST data-streaming, online streaming. To a live audience.” Vesper’s lips curled in a wide grin. I could almost see the dollar signs in her eyes. “Isia’s gone out to get her gear. We’re going to try and figure out what your selling point’s going to be.”
It was as if I’d just swallowed a boulder in realization that I’d just stepped into a territory far worse than gang violence.
Marketing.