Christopher Strun stepped into the office, spotting a rather short girl sitting in his boss’s seat. According to his boss, she was from corporate, but she didn’t really seem like the corporate type. Maybe because of the lack of professional attire? And yet, she had a clean, sweet face that any corpo woman would pride themselves on.
A black eye patch, looking as if it just came out of the medical ward, wrapped around her left eye, leaving only her one peeper staring at him. It trailed back, hidden behind her dark hair and Slashers baseball cap. He personally wasn’t a fan of Baseball but had watched a bit of the blood sport.
He always disliked the corporate type. They were typically so condescending to mere workers like himself. Hopefully, this conversation won’t be too painful. “Miss?”
The girl, seemingly snapping back to attention. She smiled lightly, seemingly radiating an innocent aura. Hers seemed entirely genuine, lacking that kind of soulless gaze that most wage slaves had. It’s odd, this was the first time he ever equated corpo and innocence. “Right. Christopher Strun… please, have a seat.”
Christopher moved to take a seat across the desk from her. It wasn’t the first time he had sat in this position, but it was a bit weird sitting across from someone different than his boss. “May I ask what this is about?”
“You can.” The girl paused as if waiting for him to reply. Before he could though, she started speaking again. Classic corpo. “What’s your opinion on Albert Abernathy?”
Christopher frowned as his back instantly straightened. This was the second time this year someone had asked him about the Head of Operations. “He paid for my mother’s funeral, and did right by us… He even helped out with my rent after my mother’s passing. From the few times I’ve interacted with him, he seemed like a stand-up guy…”
“Interesting.” The girl started to tap on the desk, her nail sending a sharp reverb through the metal. She stared at his hands, seeming to take an interest in the grease covering them. He hadn’t had time to wipe them off, so they were covered in smudges and marks.
“The other guy asked the same thing… is there something going on with Mr. Abernathy?” He asked the girl.
Her eyebrows creased upward as she completely ignored his question. Typical corpo. “Other guy?”
“Yeah, he came by two months ago and called me out…” Christopher had a sick feeling in his gut, like there was something wrong. Rather, that he might’ve done something wrong. He really hoped this wouldn’t cost him his job.
The girl frowned, though it didn’t diminish the sweet and honest look she had about her in the slightest. He knew better than to judge a book based on its cover though. The girl could’ve been an eighty-year-old woman with some eccentric tendencies for all he knew. He had heard tales about such crazies modifying their entire body to ‘return’ to youth.
“Did he leave a name?” She asked.
Christopher tried to think back to about two months ago. “The guy had come during our celebration for doubling our production from last year. Um… Eli Usser, I think he said… he was a bit shifty when he pulled me aside.”
The person from the corporation leaned forward on the desk. Her hair shifted under her hat, letting several long locks into her face “How so?”
“Well… it’s like he kept looking over his shoulder like he was scared about something or another. I just thought it was weird since he seemed to have a pretty high position in the company. I don’t know… it’s been a while.” He shrugged.
“Can you describe him to me then?” The girl asked and pulled out her phone.
“Um… he had dirty blonde hair and a roundish face. Looked to be the type to eat well… kind of young too… Now that I think about it, he had scars all over his back. I only saw them because his shirt lifted when he took off his suit jacket.” He tried to remember more, but the rest of the details escaped him. “Sorry, I can’t say much more.”
The girl sighed and stood up from the desk as she stuck her hand out. “It’s alright. Thank you for the input, it has helped quite a bit in my… investigation.”
Christopher shook her hand and started to back up to the door. “No problem, ma’am.’
Just before he could exit the corpo’s gaze and get back into the factory to work, her voice softly called out behind him. “One more thing. What do you think of red envelopes?”
He paused for a moment, his hand on the door handle. His thoughts tried to piece together what she was trying to say but failed. He turned back to see an innocent smile as if she really was just a kid and not a terrifying corporate operator. “Red envelopes, ma’am? I dunno… I think I’d prefer just white ones. Seems simpler.”
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“Right. You can go.” The girl sat back in the chair. “And call your boss.”
Christopher walked back out into the shop with a breath of relief. He always hated being questioned by his corporate overlords. It was like if he responded wrongly just one time, he would be ‘disappeared’. At the very least, this one didn’t go too poorly, and the girl didn’t seem to be the type to do that. He hoped.
Once he was a distance away, he pulled out his walkie-talkie. His eyes seemed to drift back to the office as he wondered idly to himself.
---
I stared at the door for a moment as he left. To be honest? I don’t think it was him. He didn’t seem the type to blackmail. More importantly, a key factor came up as I watched him. Grease had been a clue to this thing from the moment I first saw those red envelopes.
I looked down at my hand, where some grease had rubbed off onto me during our handshake. Unlike the grease all over Christopher Strun, the grease on the envelopes had been… clean, for a lack of better words. It didn’t have that same steely grit from metal grinds that had been all over Mr. Strun and now my hand. Heck, was it even grease to begin with? Or something else… I’d have to get back and look at them. Maybe this isn’t quite as simple as I hoped for.
I shifted my gaze out to the workshop, appreciating the flow of workers as they tirelessly slaved away at their jobs. It gave a nice backdrop as I pulled my thoughts together. It was surprisingly difficult. I felt scatterbrained… maybe I was still suffering some side effects from almost glitching…
This Eli Usser he mentioned might be the culprit. And the name sounded fake to begin with. Eli Usser. Eli Us. Alias. It was a pretty common tactic to give names that weren’t far off from the truth, at least in my experience. For instance, Zuku Ichima came easy to me since it came from two familiar sources, so it was easy to remember.
Unfortunately, I would have to scroll through months of tapes to find a face for him, and even then it might turn up empty. ‘Course, there was also the chance Eli Usser wasn’t even related to this in the first place. He could just be some random corporate operator who happened to ask overlapping questions. Coincidences did exist, though the likelihood was admittedly low. Especially since the first letter would’ve been right around when he visited Christopher Strun.
My issue is that the people Mr. Abernathy mentioned all lack the motive to blackmail him unless I had overlooked something. The CEO could take him through simpler methods, his wife and son needed him to keep his job, and Leanara Strun had died. For now, I suspected that maybe the information slipped to a third party not on the list.
With no other real lead other than a closer examination of the letters, this Eli Usser was the only chance I had. And Strun had told me the guy looked like he held a high position. Corporate politics were reason enough to resort to blackmail. Hmm…
The foreman, Micheal Schwartz, returned to the office, drawing me from my rampant thoughts. A slight frown clung to his lips as he spotted me sitting in his chair, but it immediately curled into a corporate smile. “Do you need anything else, ma’am?
I looked him over for a moment, attempting to chart my path forward. “Your party a couple months ago… where was it held?”
The man instantly turned slightly paler. “Ma’am, I know it was against regulations, but I just figured-”
“I don’t care about that. I just need to see the video feeds.” I once more cut him off. I dunno what he faced in the past, but he seemed to have a serious problem jumping to the worst conclusions. To be fair, he probably thought I was some kind of corporate black op operator considering one of the highest members of ASCorp gave me the run of the place.
Another point of oddity, now that I thought about it; why exactly didn’t Mr. Abernathy just go to a corporate operator? Was this secret really so big he couldn’t trust his own people… unfortunately, getting an answer for that would probably put me in the line of fire. Best I just solve this little one and then leave well enough alone. I wasn’t strong enough to start taking down corporate corruption.
“R-right.” He rubbed a hand across his gruff face. “Mr. Abernathy paid for us to have a private party at Ruby’s BBQ… I don’t know if you’ll be able to get the feed from them though.”
‘Course. Why would anything be easy for once? Why couldn’t I just say, ‘Hey, the son did it!’ and be absolutely correct without even having to try that hard? Well… on the bright side, at least it's not like I’m doing something dangerous…
I left the factory and headed for my newest destination: Ruby’s BBQ. Thankfully, it wasn’t too far, so I didn’t waste nearly as much AE3 as I did driving to Elysium and then back over here. Still, since I only had half a tank, I decided to test something I’d been curious about for a while. I shifted the liquid of the canteen with but a thought, changing it to AE3. Hopefully, by the time I was done, there would be enough to top up my tank.
I still had yet to test it. Now would be a perfect chance considering how much gas I’m chugging this gig. Seriously, if I had to do too many treks back and forth, I would actually lose Rayn on this gig.
The ride down there wasn’t too bad. The occasional ganger waving his gun around didn’t exist anymore in the face of Sentinel patrols and increased pressure from the Blue Crusade. That gave me time to enjoy the sights a bit more on the drive.
Bricktown itself was about as bricky as usual. It would’ve been a bit boring of a drive if not for the abundance of tags everywhere. Predominantly the Neo-Joker’s tags, but there were some oddly artistic pieces scattered about.
I even spotted a massive jade dragon marked over by a hundred small skulls. It was clearly the Neo-Jokers trying to cover up the Jade Fang’s tag, but someone had turned it into a massive battle between the hundred skulls and the dragon. Seriously skilled.
Ruby’s BBQ sat right smack dab in the middle of Bricktown and was a booming place. For Neo-Jokers, that is. I pulled up to the building on my bike, taking in the sight of close to a hundred motorcycles pulled up at the entrance, half blocking up the road. Their logo, a laughing skeleton wearing a jester’s hat, tagged up every surface around, leaving no one to question this was their turf.
A duo of Neo-Jokers burst out of the front door, laughing uproariously as they staggered to their bikes. Their bright, flashy red hair caught my attention more than anything, and the lump dropping into my gut fell even further as their cuts caught under the neon lights.
This? This complicated things.