There was one thing I’d learned about from the Sewer Saints that I was certain they’d not intended to reveal: that there were other “hunting grounds” like the Well. Areas around the city where monsters would naturally gather one way or another. The gangs, naturally, wanted control over these areas since they provided easy access to monsters. And they also, naturally, didn’t like broadcasting the location of such areas for anyone online to find.
Though my first thought had been to hunt in the Well itself, I ended up discarding the idea for three reasons. One, they had surveillance in place, the automatic sort, and I didn't know how to get around it. Sure, I could run around, but eventually I'd get caught in one of Quinn's cameras or drones. Two, it was essentially taking potential food out of my own plate since I couldn't get any bounties out of killing the monsters while in monster form. Third, and most importantly: it was too close to "home". Getting spotted could draw in attention, and though I doubted anyone would be able to make the connection between "Axel" and "Shush Monster", it would make it far riskier for me to move around.
Hence why I was in this new part of the district that wasn't under management of the Sewer Saints or any rat-themed gang.
My hope was to find the local "gathering point" and see if I could let loose a little and spend my AP and gather some skills.
I didn't know the location of the hunting grounds, but with some baseline understanding of how monsters behaved, and a map, I'd drawn up a handful of candidate places to check out.
Having learned my lessons from my previous rendezvous, I started off by picking out a locker-storage company that wasn’t too far from the location I suspected had the convergence point. I proceeded to leave my stuff under lock and key, alongside a collection of person-sized protein-chow bags. And the all-important flavor packets from the bodega I’d bought the night prior.
With the preparations complete and carrying only a bag with a set of spare clothes, I began exploring.
At a glance, the graffiti in the area seemed to indicate that the “polar-bears on bikes” gang was far more unified than the “rats and mice” gangs. There were no variations, and most of the murals looked older, having only minor “new” art on the corners and undersides. The gang members themselves I avoided, they moved around with very loud bikes, the sort of noise I could pick up from far enough I could detour and avoid.
With the (few) street-lights coming on, and the roads starting to get some action again as people began coming back to their homes, I found my target: a decrepit sewage treatment plant. The building was embedded into the third wall, a crumbling piece of concrete and rebar with shattered windows. There was a massive graffiti of a polar bear with a six-barreled shotgun, with each barrel connected to one of the six equally large pipes that protruded out of the treatment facility. But the part that was the dead give-away was the stench of monster.
There was a rot in the air, foul and dying, wafting out and spreading about. It reeked, and I could only fathom there were a lot of monsters inside those pipes.
Fortunately it looked like the facility itself had not seen official use in a long time, I had to imagine it was at least seventy years old, having been there to provide the city necessary services until the corporations had figured out how to make good profit out of waste-water. The poop-skirmishes were a brief if notable mention within corpo-history class. Nowadays, most of the infrastructure had been cut-up and repurposed towards other things, like water-collection whenever it rained. At least that was how it’d been over at FC02, I wasn’t entirely sure how much of that still held over here.
As I approached the half-decrepit building, I noticed that the lights were on. There was even a gathering of people near the gate, talking cheerfully with one another. The “polar-bear bikers” gang were decked in polar-bear related merch, which wasn’t exactly a surprise. It was a page right out of Company-Culture 101: Have employees buy and wear your merch so they feel economically invested in identifying with your brand.
Some things never changed.
Turning my focus back to the problem at hand, as much as I disliked gangs, the ones in New Francisco appeared to be invested in ending monsters to some degree or another. There was no need to start a shoot-out over what were clearly some freely-available monsters in need of killing.
AP 50 / 150
“Let’s play this smart.” I began exploring the general area, trying to get a better sense of the area. My goal was to find some unprotected monster-infested corner and get some work done.
The fence was rusty, but not as old as the facility itself, with a large empty concrete canal where the waste-water must’ve flowed through at some point or another. The thing was full of dirt, debris, and trash. There were signs of battle here and there as well, scorch-marks and craters, alongside deep scratches and gouges that had long ago exposed rebar to the environment. As far as places to sneak in went, there were plenty so long as I wasn’t afraid of getting tetanus from the fence. This gang was clearly not that disciplined or well funded.
If it turned out things were too tightly protected, then I'd slink off and find somewhere else. Either way approaching in my normal form was a no-go, if anything happened, then at least in my monster form I'd be able to hold my own and run away. Certainly, approaching as a monster also meant that at the instant I was spotted trouble would happen, but with how light surveillance was, I felt confident I could sneak through.
So I picked a spot outside the fence, hid away my clothes under some pieces of debris, and focused on the task ahead.
“I need to sneak in.”
The system… did nothing. The text shrugged at me.
“No sneak stat?” I furrowed my brows a little. “Fine, I suppose. I’d go for agility, but that’s not-” Closing my eyes, I tried to focus. “Look, remember the Hellcat? They’re sneaky too, right? It might not have been a skill, but do you think you could help with that? Please?”
For a moment the system stalled, seemingly thinking it through. Then, with a shrug, a new pop-up appeared.
Velo̎c̛͊íty M̔o͍̽d̴̓e̱ (1):
* -1 AP / Second *
* +5 Speed / Second *
The prompt came with a slight scoff, proudly puffing up and filling my veins with a thousand energy drinks at the same time. The changes didn't start right away, the feeling was different from the first time around though, it didn't spread throughout my whole body all at once, rather, it focused on my legs and head specifically, almost ignoring everything else entirely.
The changes came in slowly, thoughtfully, as if every little shift was carefully planned for, bones becoming denser, muscles tightening… I closed my eyes and just breathed, taking it all in, forcing my heart to calm down and relax. I counted the seconds away, letting the system to do its thing and push the stat further and further ahead. The shift in my shoulders, my mouth, my hearing, everything was becoming sharper as the seconds ticked down.
Achievement: Reach +200 Adaptive Speed
Unlocked: Twitch Muscles
Reaction speed is doubled. Adaptive Speed at +200! Cap reached!
AP 10 / 150
Slowly letting out my breath, I glanced down at myself. This time around my fur was as black as night, with odd splotches and streaks of dark grey. Taking a step, I was pleasantly surprised at finding out my feet were now padded, muffling sound almost completely. Well, not totally, especially not to my new heightened senses, but a lot more than in the previous two transformations. I was certainly impressed, though not enough to keep me from quickly checking my surroundings one more time to guarantee there was no one.
Then I realized I'd earned an achievement I'd already earned. Hadn't this been part of the deal back in the first transformation? In response, the pop-up rattled at me with a sage-like explanatory feeling of... a concept, a notion that achievements could only stick around for as long as my transformation did.
With a small thanks to the system’s attempts to help, I began carefully sneaking my way towards the pipes, using the debris and trash for cover. My very large body wasn't exactly easy to hide, but there was a lot of trash around the place. So I'd patiently keep an eye out for drones, cameras, and especially the gang members. Fortunately everything was calm, with the "bears" too busy playing or chatting or just dozing off to notice as I kept creeping towards the massive pipes.
But that was where I found an obstacle I couldn't just walk around: A cheap wired camera that was aimed at the tunnel entrances, set up on a metal post. The cable ran down the pole and towards the facility building. I was kind of surprised that it wasn't wireless, but figured it was likely as a way to guarantee it never went offline. Either that, or so that it couldn't be accessed remotely by undesirables.
Glancing over at the tunnels, and then at the building, I considered my options.
Disconnecting the camera would likely draw attention, but not quickly enough to prevent me from reaching inside and getting out of sight. Once inside the sewer system, then it shouldn't be too hard to go about and kill some monsters. Not exactly the best environment for hunting, but I'd already spent the AP, and my claws itched at the prospect of getting into a good fight. If I left now, I'd have to turn back, no way in hell I'd go walking around the district looking for prey while in this form.
I made my choice.
‘Blades’ G-Class 1/10 Cost: 10 AP AP 00 / 150
Like my transformation, the change was slow but methodical, near-human-like hands slowly shifting into claws. But this time the change was almost discreet, digits turning into something closer to paws than talons or "finger-knifes". I idly wondered whether the shift was dependent on the mode I was using, and whether if applying it during an adaptation mode could result in more extreme shifts. Definitely something to think about later.
I very carefully squeezed the camera’s cable and rubbed it between my sharp claws, fraying it until it eventually snapped. Hopefully that way it would look like a rat had chewed through it.
If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.
Not wanting to lose my window of opportunity, I discreetly bolted towards the sewer-pipes, picking the one with the strongest monster scent. By the time the gang members started to make a fuss, I was already deep enough in the tunnel their voices were nearly unintelligible.
Even in the total darkness of the pipe, I could vaguely make out the shape of my surroundings with my sharper senses. But vision proved far less important compared to sound and smell. There was a stench of fresh monsters and death, intense enough my mouth watered, and the system practically purred as it kept nudging me onward towards our prey.
There was a refreshing lack of trash inside the pipes.
Idly, I wondered just how far these things went?
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These tunnels were pretty freaking long.
I’d been walking at a fair “don’t smack against a wall” pace, keeping my left claw against the left side of the pipe, for what must’ve been at least half an hour. Maybe. The darkness wasn’t absolute enough to leave me completely blind, but it still felt like it was playing tricks on my sense of time. There'd been a few branching off pipes, but I kept to the left, following the strong monster stench, and to avoid getting lost.
There’d been a very mild downward slope, which… felt like it should've been upwards, but I wasn't about to try and fathom the reason for it. For all I knew these pipes had been rebuilt and remade after their original purpose had come to an end. Fortunately, I caught sounds before I started to question my life choices any harder. Growls and snarls, and rattling. Rattling that became louder as I got closer, moving a little faster, excited at the prospect of finally getting to kill some monsters.
At the end of the tunnel, there was finally light.
I squinted as I adjusted to the artificial source of illumination, looking at what I could only describe as a massive… cistern? No, it wasn’t a cistern. I couldn’t quite make out the details, but it looked like someone had constructed a massive underground dome, perhaps thirty or so meters across, and more or less just as tall. The floor was covered in dirt, the ceiling full of scribble graffiti. The pipe I stood in was one of several, suspended a dozen or so meters off the ground.
And down there were monsters. Dozens of G-class monsters, just wailing at one another, snarling, biting, cutting. They’d readily and gleefully attack each other in some sort of bloody battle-royal.
The whole sight of it left me somewhat confused.
I’d known monsters attacked each other in the wilderness sometimes, but I’d never imagined it could be like this! I couldn't fathom why they'd be slaughtering each other in such a way rather than actively looking for humans. Was something influencing them? I couldn't sense anything, and yet...
AP 00 / 150
The system whined at me, demanding that I jump down and become the executioner rather than allow them to continue slaughtering each other. I wasn't against the idea, but I felt caution was the best approach, taking a more careful look around. There had to be something more to this place, I very much doubted the gang had just set this up and left it to rot. There were other pipes leading into this arena, four others, yet each of those was at ground level, blocked by-
BZZZZT
The bars on one of the pipes lifted, and a metal plate within it shoved the monsters into the arena before the bars descended, locking the pipe once more. A fresh dozen G's joined the brawl, launching themselves into a mindless frenzy and renewing the slaughter with vigor. It was then that I caught movement overhead, and looked up at the top of the dome. There I saw three auto-cannon turrets slowly following some of the monsters, dozens of tiny cameras littering the ceiling, each one tracking a different monster.
I couldn’t make sense of this other than the fact that it seemed tonight had been a bust.
As monster-killing hungry as I was, I was not about to jump down there to put myself at the mercy of the auto-cannons. I discreetly watched for a while longer, trying to piece everything together. Were they streaming the free-for-all? Did that count for the bounty reward system? It was something I hadn't considered to be possible, yet if this gang had gone through the effort of setting this place up, then it meant it had to be lucrative somehow.
Taking a step back, I pondered my options.
It seemed there was some sort of automated process that shoved monsters into the arena, monsters that had to come from all over the place. If I moved through the pipes far enough from the arena, then I should be able to find somewhere where I could comfortably prowl unperturbed but with monster presence.
I'd turned around to leave and froze.
There was someone there.
Something. A figure clad in shadows, shaped like a person, but devoid of a presence. It was alive, or at least I thought it was for its shoulders moved at a steady slow rhythmic breathing. Yet at the same time I could not sense its existence. It didn't make a sound, it didn't have a scent, it was as if it were a hole of nothingness, one that sent a chill down my spine. The entity raised its head to regard me through its featureless blank face while my mind raced.
Even staring directly into the blackness left me with the impression that I was imagining its existence. Since when had they been there!? How long had it been behind me? I mentally swore, trying to reconsider my options.
The figure raised its hand, wielding a blade just as black as it was. The arm twisted and it made a swipe at my paw so fast I hadn't even seen it until I felt the sting of the cut.
This thing was real.
It dashed forward, sword singing through the air as it sought my throat. I leapt backwards, feeling the cold bite of metal on my shoulder.
BZZZZT
Slamming against the ground, I looked up, finding the pipe I’d come from was now barred. The shadowy figure staring down at me for several long silent seconds… then vanishing.
That was when I heard the distinctive click of the auto-canons loading their rounds and taking aim.
I now had bigger problems to handle.
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“Doctor, you need to see this!”
Moreau frowned, lifting her gaze from the microscope and turning to glance over in Bob's general direction. “What is it?” She demanded, an irritated bite to her voice, pushing herself to disengage from the research-multi-thread, leaving her electronic assistants to continue crunching through the data in her stead.
“Here.” Bob sent a link, urging her to step away from the small portable laboratory she’d set up in the apartment’s bathroom.
A first scan confirmed it was a seedy streaming site in the fourth district. “I swear if this is another one of those ‘surprise it’s actually porn’ links…”
“Just open it!” Bob’s tone was dead serious.
With a sigh, she set up a few spoofed accounts and nested virtual machines to click through on her stead. The AI’s immediately jumped to block the sea of ads, and once the stream began to properly buffer, the doctor’s brows knit together, sixty different feeds plugged in to create a pseudo-3D-scape of a cheap dingy arena of sorts. There was a monster at the center of the screen, a wolf-like creature, bipedal, covered in a blackish fur that shimmered as if made out of pearls. Every time a camera tried to lock on to it, the image would twitch, forcing the algorithms to only focus on spots near the monster rather than on the creature. It was as if its existence was out of focus compared to everything else in the arena.
“That can’t be…”
The creature was surrounded by the steaming goopy chunks of dead monsters, yet its eyes kept glancing up at the canons in the ceiling. Though the creature’s appearance was somewhat different than the last time she’d seen him, Moreau recognized that glint of intelligence in his eyes.
“It’s him, isn’t it.” She muttered, proceeding to flop over at the couch.
“That’s not what matters.” Bob growled. “Rewind to when he dropped.”
“He’s my most valuable sample to-”
Her complaints came to a stop as she noticed the look Bob was giving her. Arms crossed, holding his gun, pale as a whiteboard. Which was unnerving in of itself, the man had flown AV’s in active duty against B-class monsters, there were very few things that should’ve been able to put him into such a state. Doing as he'd asked, she paid the extra fee to rewind. It was slightly humorous watching her sample turning monster-gore into fully fledged little pests, as well as the little ‘avoid the gunfire’ dance he’d pulled off for a solid minute. Then she reached the point of entry, when he’d practically jumped through one of the open tunnels… backwards.
Moreau stopped the clip, and slowed it down.
The quality wasn’t all that great even for a stream, but she could tell something was off.
Axel's body flinging itself backwards from one of the tunnels, paws raised to block something, the bars of the cage rolling down the seal the entrance shut. And then… a flicker.
A single lost frame in the recording.
“Oh.” Moreau swallowed hard.
“Tell me it’s not her.” Bob’s voice came in a low growl. “Tell me they didn’t send the Shadow after us.”
The scientist scowled, extracting copies of the recordings and having her AI assistants drop the research and prioritize their processing. Within seconds, they compiled a dozen different instances of an arena camera losing focus for barely a frame or two. Individually, they could’ve just been random failures or little glitches, things one could easily ignore. But compiled together, they showed something moving across the arena, circling around Axel, something even he himself appeared entirely unaware of. “It is.” The doctor concluded. Out of all the scenarios, out of all the possibilities, she would’ve expected to get some top-tier merc group sent her way.
Not a meguca. And doubly so not THE assassin meguca.
“I don’t know who could’ve pushed for this.” She stated worriedly.
She had enemies, that was just life for people at the top, but in the Venn-diagram of people willing to send a meguca her way, those that had the contacts or influence necessary were not among them. Clearly someone else had stepped up to meddle in things, and the doctor couldn't be entirely sure who... or why. Either that, or Axel just happened to stumble on to the Shadow on his off time, and she just so happened to trail after him all the way into an arena where her presence would be "caught" on camera.
Something definitely odd was going on.
“What do we do?” Bob’s voice came out deep with concern. “She’s got to be using him as bait.”
“That she is.” Moreau sat down, crossing her arms and glaring at the feeds, watching Axel executing monster after monster in a glory battle as he weaved out of auto-canon fire at the same time. "I should've insisted he stick with us in the safehouse." She cursed.
Of course someone would have tracked him down and try to determine whether he knew of her location. Any expected threat he should've seen coming a mile away, it wasn't as if the fourth district had enough of a digital presence for a hacker to be able to keep track of someone through the various ad-systems. It should've been the perfect opportunity for Axel to learn the ropes, get some tempering against mercenaries, learn to be a little more ruthless... But no, never in her wildest dreams had she thought they would've sent THAT meguca.
“Do you…” Bob started to ask the question but left it lingering.
With a sigh, the doctor shook her head. At her command, a few infection algorithms hopped on over into the servers hosting the stream. Feedback flowed in freely and quickly, Moreau checked the details and nodded along. “She's revealing herself to make it clear that, if she wanted him dead, he'd be dead. It's bothersome that someone found out our little new pet-project so soon, but I'm their target, they can't jump the gun or else I won't have a reason to show myself."
Bob eyed her warily. "You're not planning to do that, are you?"
"Not yet, at least." Another heavy sigh. "But I can't leave Axel to be toyed around, either. I’d like to claim what I’m about to do will be untraceable, but best not take any chances. Prepare for a quick getaway, we’ll be moving to safehouse B... probably will need to stay fully dark for a while too.”
Nodding quickly, Bob set out to get packing all the research gear.
Giving one last glance at the stream, Moreau pondered on a few other ideas she'd been keeping in the backburner. The newly dubbed "Magubo-project" required the young man to properly grow out of the shell he'd created after years under the constant ever-present AI surveillance inside his own head. It was clear Axel had yet to fully stretch out his metaphorical wings, he had the brains, but was too lacking in experience. It was exactly why she'd tossed him at the fourth-district in the first place, it was the perfect environment for him to learn how to survive on his own. Though it didn't have the omnipresent ad-systems of the third, second, and first districts, all of the gangs had been around for long enough that all of the monster-hunting grounds were well and truly claimed, making it impossible for him to avoid conflict.
"A new tree can't grow in an old forest without uprooting a few rivals..." Moreau chuckled.
Stumbling on to the shadow assassin had just been a stroke of the worst possible luck.
Her gaze flickered at a menu of available 'purchases' for the stream, and a list of contained monsters that had yet to be thrown into the arena. “Ah, there we go.” Her lips curled in amusement as she began seeding the stream’s software a bit more thoroughly. “I can get him a chance to get out, but whether he can take it is all up to him…” She began her work.
No sense in wasting a good opportunity.
The growing magubo needed his "vitamins" after all.