The sprawling cityscape beneath the rooftop made for an interesting kind of motivation… especially when you were hanging on by the tip of your fingers and with only them stopping you from falling to your death.
Carter's hands ached slightly, digging into the border that kept the rooftop from the abyss below. Not quite an ideal situation, but he'd been prepared to put his life on the line if it came to it. Hanging on with only his hands stopping him from becoming a red wet pancake on the streets below was unfortunate, but…
"No one here, chief."
Being caught by the three cops who'd climbed the ladder to look for him would be worse.
He heard one of them kick at the floor with some frustration, the metal tip of their boot scraping against the concrete.
"Fucked takes my stuff and then vanishes… man, the Cap is going to have my ass for losing those."
Someone gave him comforting pats on the shoulder.
"Nothing to be done, Ralph. Now, come on, let's get back downstairs. We still have the Chief's task to get done, remember?"
"Shit, yeah, you're right."
The pat-pat-pat of three pairs of footsteps rang softly as they walked away from the edge where Carter hung from and towards the ladder they'd all used. Then — the sound of their boots stepping down the ladder.
To be safe, he waited a few extra minutes — but by then, the muscles in his arms were screaming bloody murder and he was forced to push himself up. With something of a strangled grasp, he threw himself over the small wall and over the floor, turning to lay on his back as he caught his breath.
… Ping!
[Due to continuous and strenuous usage, your STR — ]
"Oh, fuck off."
He was way too busy yearning for death to worry about the stupid intricacies of his [system]. It'd been a gift to be sure, but there were situations and then there were situations.
— Damn, his arms hurt like literal hell. But on the bright side… Carter's eyes drifter to the pockets of his pants, where both the stolen Walkie-talkie and the mobile holographic device, a successor of sorts to the mobile smartphones that had been popular in the past.
Both the walkie-talkie and the holo-transmitter had been quickly turned off when he got them since either could potentially reveal his position — that being said, he would need them on to get any information.
He grabbed the holo-transmitter. It was a small, disk-like device built-in dark metal and with only two buttons on it, a volume, and a power button respectively. The projector itself sat in the middle of the disc — a small, hexagonal glass object surrounded by little lights from all angles. A play of refraction, he was sure.
… He'd never held anything this expensive in his life. It was honestly pretty cool.
Carter turned the device on. It hummed to life immediately, and before anything else could happen, he fumbled his way into the menu. From what he remembered, this kind of device came with a built-in 'Airplane Mode' — which was precisely what he needed, at least until he figured out how to wreck the chip. Thankfully, it was pretty easy to find it thanks to the obvious Airplane Icon that was visible as soon as the holographic display flared into life, and the rest was history.
… He didn't bother trying to resist the urge to grin.
"This is the craziest fucking day in my (admittedly miserable) life."
And it was true, he mused, absentmindedly pawing his way through the many holographic menus presented by the device in search of some sort of clue. Though Carter was far from cowardly, he had never been what one might typically call brave. Cautious was more his thing, really; considering every option and making a slow and decisive choice.
The choices he had made today — all of them had been logical and thought-out. But they'd also been risky in a way Carter wasn't normally comfortable with. He had immediately resorted to hanging from the edges of the building as opposed to trying to lockpick the small elevator that led in, simply because he'd thought it more effective, disregarding risks.
— That is,
There was a very real chance that his [System] had changed something in the way he acted and thought; changed something fundamental in him, a small but relevant piece in the whole that was Carter. And the fact that such a thought didn't made him panic was only further evidence.of such.
See —
Every system was unique. Though all of them had their similarities — ways to get stronger and some degree of self-improvement options and versatility — it was certain that each [System] had to be entirely unique, a representation of someone's core.
Their soul, if you will.
So far — Carter's system had been quite simple. Not particularly forthcoming with information, perhaps, but it gave him no indication of the type of [System] he was dealing with; that is, if he didn't know better, he would have assumed it a basic 'self-improvement' type System.
Except, you know, self-improvement wasn't exactly one of Carter's core characteristics. He wasn't at all ashamed to admit it; he knew himself well enough, after all.
All of this to say — there would inevitably be a curved ball coming his way. A sucker punch, if you will. And it was hard to predict its nature with as little information as he currently held.
— Ah!
His musings were interrupted quite suddenly. There it was — the message application. This was probably what he was looking for.
Thankfully, the owner didn't think to put in a password, otherwise, Carter would have been in trouble. As it was, he was quickly able to locate the group chat where this user has last talked into — "MPD". Morpheus Police Department, perhaps?
Without wasting more time, he began to read. And it's contents…
"...Huh."
Well, first of all, he could now ruin at least six different marriages. Probably more, considering the responses to some, ah, interesting pictures. These people… they weren't subtle at all.
But most importantly — he got the information he wanted
The conversation went like this.
>" The hell are we doing here anyway?"
"We're waiting for one of the dog kids. Like I have said twice already."<
> "I get that but why"
"Because the captain said so, you moron. Plus, you should be happy you're getting a freebie day, idiot. Your brother certainly doesn't." <
> "he's a dog he doesn't count"
> "did he tell us when the kid will get here??? or what to do with him?"
"yea, we'll bring the kid to do work for the Captain. shouldn't be too hard and I don't think he's a runner." <
"don't know when, though. soon." <
> "K"
Or something like that — well, that was the gist of it, at least. It was a clever plan, really; getting office work was usually the best thing a Bound could hope for. Had he not known about Grandfather, he would have eagerly walked into this trap without as much of a second's thought.
Ping!
The familiar bell rang clear.
[QUEST Update!]
[Objective: Figure out Grandfather's plans. (1/1)]