It's been two days since the Pizza incident. During this time, I've been busy teaching Nolan how to effectively wield a sniper rifle, and in return, he's been showing me the ropes of using the Omni Replicator Forge. To my surprise, operating the Forge was simpler than I had anticipated. It involved a handheld barcode scanner-like device that you used to fully scan the item you wanted to replicate. After the scan, you simply initiated the replication process, and after a few minutes, voila, you had a fully replicated item in your hands.
However, there were some limitations to the process. It couldn't replicate anything too large, but Mr. Norman informed me that for bigger items, they had a workaround. They would dismantle the item into smaller components and then replicate those. He even mentioned that this was the method they used for torpedoes, including the potentially volatile nuclear ones.
Naturally, I voiced my concerns about the safety of dismantling and replicating nuclear torpedoes. Mr. Norman assured me that they had performed this operation numerous times, and if done correctly, there was no reason to worry. In fact, he went a step further and offered to teach me the proper procedure for dismantling these torpedoes.
The prospect of learning such a dangerous and complex task was daunting, but I had little choice but to accept his offer. With our busy schedules, we decided to postpone this lesson until after our upcoming mission in the slums.
Mr. Norman and Lucas still ventured into the slums to gather information. It was a bright noon when Nolan and I decided to take a breather. We found ourselves at the Scorpion Syndicate's old base, settling into the comfort of the diner.
As I pondered our mission, the diner's door suddenly swung open, and in walked Mr. Norman and Lucas. Their expressions were stern, immediately drawing our attention.
"You guys are here perfectly. We have something of great importance to discuss," Mr. Norman declared with a grave countenance.
My curiosity surged, and I leaned in, eager to hear more. "What is it? Have you made a breakthrough in locating the slave traders?" The atmosphere in the diner grew charged with anticipation as we awaited their response.
"Yes, and they're on the move today, so we need to act swiftly. If we let them slip away now, who knows when we'll get another chance like this," Mr. Norman stated with a stern expression before continuing.
"Alright, everyone, let's get ready. Pack everything you need, both for close-quarters combat and long-range engagement. Tonight, we strike," he declared with unwavering determination.
We all nodded in agreement and began preparing ourselves for the upcoming mission. As we were getting ready, Mr. Norman suddenly called me over. "Frankie, can you come here for a moment?"
I approached him, curiosity piqued. "What is it, Mr. Norman?"
He handed me something—a black eyepatch. Confusion washed over me as I wondered why he was giving me such an item.
"Mr. Norman, why did you give this to me?" I asked, a puzzled expression on my face.
"Well, you've seen Nolan and David gave you all sorts of cool enhancements, and I couldn't help but feel a bit left out. I mean, they may not be as awesome as robotic limbs or laser guns, but this eyepatch has its own history. Captain Francis gave it to me after my epic battle with Blood Beard, but I never used it for some reason. It's been collecting dust in a box until now. And now, I believe it was always meant for you," Mr. Norman explained with determination in his eyes.
"You really didn't have to, Mr. Norman, but I appreciate the gesture. By the way, did I ever mention that I can still see with my right eye?" I thanked him and asked, a touch of curiosity in my voice.
"Yes, yes, you did mention that you could still see with it but that it's very sensitive to light, making it impractical. You know, in our world, pirates used to wear eyepatches on their good eyes to train them to see in the dark, like a sort of night vision. Why don't you give it a try, especially since you hardly use that eye anyway?" Mr. Nolan attempted to justify his suggestion about the eyepatch.
"Alright, Mr. Norman, I'll give it a shot," I replied with a smile.
Mr. Norman responded with a sly, victorious grin. "Glad we've reached an understanding."
I couldn't help but chuckle to myself. Sure, he could be a bit eccentric, but in his own way, he genuinely wanted to help me. So, I decided to accept the black eyepatch and give it a shot. After all, as Mr. Norman pointed out, I rarely used that eye to begin with, so why not make the most of it?
I took the black eyepatch and carefully placed it over my right eye. Approaching a nearby mirror, I examined the result. The scar from that monstrous mermaid attack was still visible, but I had to admit, the eyepatch suited me rather well if I do say so myself.
Turning to Mr. Norman, I inquired, "What do you think, Mr. Norman?"
He gave me a nod and a nonchalant response, "It looks good on you, kid, but you're still not as good as me. But hey, it works well enough."
*Sigh*
I couldn't help but let out a resigned sigh. It seemed like Mr. Norman's fondness for teasing wouldn't change anytime soon. So, with a smile and a shake of my head, I accepted his comment for what it was.
Afterward, we all went about making our preparations, gathering the necessary gear and supplies. After a few minutes, we gathered around to discuss our strategy for the upcoming mission.
As we gathered together, Nolan cast a curious glance my way and asked, "Frankie, what's that on your eye? Is that an eyepatch? It looks strangely familiar."
I couldn't help but give him a wry smile as I replied, "Well, yes, Mr. Norman gave it to me."
"Grandpa did? Hold on a minute, it's all coming back to me now. I've seen this eyepatch my whole life. If I remember correctly, Grandpa got it from Captain Francis, and he never let either me or David near it. But he gave it to you?" Nolan's wide-eyed surprise was evident as he continued to speak.
"Frankie, this might sound like an exaggeration, but this eyepatch is one of Grandpa's treasured possessions, so please take good care of it for me," Nolan said with genuine earnestness in his eyes.
I couldn't help but reflect on how significant this black eyepatch was to Mr. Norman. When he had given it to me, he had made it appear as if it were just an ordinary eyepatch.
"Don't worry, Nolan. I'll ensure it's in good hands," I reassured him with a warm smile.
But before we could delve further into this sentiment, Mr. Norman took the lead and began discussing the adjustments to our plan for the night.
"Alright, everyone, there's been a slight change in the plan," Mr. Norman declared, bringing our attention back to the matter at hand.
"So, what's the change, Mr. Norman?" I asked with curiosity gnawing at me.
"Glad you asked, Frankie because it concerns you significantly. According to my source, the slave traders are keeping some people hidden in a warehouse. So, Lucas and I will attempt to free those captives while you divert the attention of the slave traders," he explained, his expression serious.
I couldn't help but be taken aback. "Wait a minute! You want me to take on like sixty people by myself?"
He shook his head. "No, Rex will be with you, and Nolan will be providing sniper support from a distance."
My frustration and concern boiled over. "Dammit, old man, are you serious?"
*Sigh*
He let out a weary sigh and replied, "Come on, Frankie, we've discussed this before. If you've done it before, you can do it now."
This stubborn old man was really pushing my buttons. It felt like he was practically asking me to commit suicide. But if I brought it up, I knew he'd go to great lengths to persuade me otherwise. Plus, he did have a point—Nolan would be there to support me. Wait a minute, did this guy just manipulate me into thinking that?
I sighed deeply, my frustration giving way to resignation. "There's no use trying to make you reconsider, is there? No matter what argument I present, you'll find a way to counter it. We'd just end up wasting more time. So, fine, old man. I'll do as you say," I conceded defeat.
Mr. Norman sported a sly, victorious grin, looking like he had just won a major prize. "Great! We've reached an understanding," he declared with satisfaction, pressing forward with his plan.
"Alright, everyone, take a look at this," Mr. Norman said as he unfolded a map before us.
On the map, there were three distinct markings, closely grouped together: a circle, an X-mark, and a star.
"These are our positions," he explained. "The circle marks the location of the warehouse, the star represents Frankie and Rex, and the X-mark is where Nolan will be stationed. Lucas and I will be nearby, waiting for Frankie to create a diversion, perhaps using some grenades or something to grab their attention. Frankie, you're the star of the show; you need to keep them occupied while we rescue the slaves from the warehouse. As for Nolan, this X-mark points to a tall building where you can snipe and provide support for Frankie."
We all exchanged glances, silently acknowledging the audacity of this plan. Then, the old man proclaimed, "Great, everyone, it's time for war."