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DATE:7th of June, the 70th year after the Coronation
LOCATION: Concord Metropolis
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The rest of the day I acted normal at school, but diligently prepared for the upcoming incursion. The first step to that was to get some actual equipment. The Cash I got from the school and that college kid Jack wasn't enough.
It was time to access my stashed funds since before the UltraMan mission. The Donn may have scammed me out of a million Zols, but he had still given me 200.000 as advance payment. That money wasn't stashed in in his location, Maizo, despite all the bonuses I would have had from my V.I.P. token. I wasn't such an idiot.
I put that money in an independent fund owned by Vince Interactive. It was a shady company that dealt mostly in entertainment, having a ton of idols under their brand. They have a horribly detailed history of abusing them.
Even then, as a bank, they are one of the most trusted institutions, at least for criminals like myself. They take a 10% yearly cut of your deposit as a.... "Shady" privilege. It technically is a horrible deal, but what other bank doesn't ask for an kind of ID to do transactions?
A shame they didn't have a subsidiary in Cordon, I suppose it was too rich for them. It was an hour commute to the nearest Vince HQ so I had to take the metropolitan train. There is a metro in Concord, it would have been comical to not have one, but it is only in the proper city and not the suburban districts.
The commute finished without any major impediments and I arrived to the infamous idol hub.
As I step inside the headquarters, the first thing I remember is the immense scale of the lobby. It feels like walking into a modern palace. The ceiling rises several stories high, and the natural light pouring in through vast glass windows makes everything seem even more open and grand. The floors are polished marble, and your footsteps echo lightly as I move toward the center.
At the entrance, there's a colossal digital screen, constantly shifting between glamorous images of the agency's top idols performing, interviews, and sleek advertisements for its banking services. The agency's logo was a beheaded unicorn. Beheaded as in coated in blood and all that. Even still, it was smiling. Such a strange choice of imaginery, yet I feel it was intentional. I can hear faint music playing, blending the agency's latest idol hits with a smooth instrumental track, setting a surreal tone.
Beyond the reception, I take an elevator ignoring the entertainment wing. The ride is smooth, the walls of the elevator embedded with touchscreens that display live updates from the entertainment world. So many horror stories came out of these slick corridors I am avoiding. You'd think this company would get destroyed in lawsuits or that their idols would leave, heck at least new ones wouldn't come here, but neither of those is the case. Vince has the best lawyers around and they have tight contracts. And for the recruits? This is the biggest agency around. Greedy young girls, or just people in desperate need of money will always be. It doesn't matter how many times they get cancelled, how many times their rival BubbleTV exposes their misdeeds. Vince truly is a corporatist empire.
Moving to the 66th floor, their "bank", the atmosphere shifts dramatically. The noise of rehearsals fades, replaced by the quiet hum of computer screens and subdued conversations. The floors are carpeted here, softening the space, and the decor becomes more muted and professional. It is obviously not their main function as an organization considering the lack of care in layout. Only some lined benches and bank counters. The people coming here are either desperate citizens that got hooked into their loaning scheme, possibly even some of their singers and actors and then some villains. You never know who is who between these people.
I went to the to take out my "deposit" where I was hit with a 20% charge for early withdrawal. It is a lot, but then again, they also know I can't go to anyone else. That cash I received on the spot in a reinforced briefcase. I always appreciated you didn't need to call beforehand or anything like that. Just shows how this wasn't a deposit, but simply a promise to keep my money for a time. I would have appreciated for the briefcase to be less conspicuous, but at least I wouldn't worry for it to be broken into.
As I get out of there and move into the direction of my equipment store, I have my suspicions confirmed. I was followed.
A blonde woman with blue eyes was 50 steps behind me since I got to the station. She couldn't have known I was taking out money so was she a hero sent by Zilliam to keep an eye on me? No, she shouldn't know we would do this operation tonight. Was she then investigating me from the side of the Donn? Highly unlikely. A hero from UltraMan's league? No, they shouldn't know I exist. So then who?
I couldn't get to the store while tailed. But how to shake her off? Ahh, the metro!
I got underground where I tried to blend in into the crowds of Concord, but I was sure she was able to follow me. It didn't help that I had to sucker punch two guys who tried to steal my briefcase. I walked fast and got in the crowdest metro car with the woman behind me being forced to enter two cars away from me, but I was sure it wouldn't take her long to reach me so at the next station I kicked in the balls a hobo who put his hand on my briefcase before exiting the compartment and I went along the metro in the direction of the exit. Of course, the woman also left. So then the lights were blinking I made a surprised expression and entered the next compartment and she followed, being one behind me. Just as she was entering mine I squeezed between the closing doors, trapping her inside. Then I made it look like I was leaving the metro station while she was forced to continue the route.
But I wasn't done! When the train left I returned and boarded the next route where I followed until a lane split. Afterwords, I left the station in a hurry and took the first taxi I saw. She wouldn't be able to catch up. I handed the driver a hundred Zol bill and asked him to continue until my destination.
The "store" where I was going was technically a noodle shop. It was owned by a renowned arms dealer, a certain mister Chow. At least that is what I hear he goes by.
The restaurant in and of itself seems normal. Thematic even. To get an audience with the owner, there was a certain code I had to make by making a particular combination of food orders.
I entered the small noodle shop, the air thick with the scent of broth and spices. My eyes scanned the modest interior before he made his way to a table near the back, just out of view but close enough to observe the room. I knew exactly what to order. Each item had a purpose—an unspoken message that only the right ears would understand.
When the waitress approached, I gave a polite smile and began my order.
"Hot and Sour Soup," I said, my tone casual. It was the first signal, the blend of heat and sourness hinting at the urgency of the matter at hand.
She scribbled it down, and I continued.
"Beef Chow Mein, no vegetables." My voice remained steady, but the absence of vegetables was a clear sign—cut the small talk, no distractions. What was coming next was serious.
"Shrimp Pad Thai," I added, pausing briefly before the next key phrase. "Extra peanuts." The extra peanuts meant there was complexity involved, a layer of risk that needed handling. My business wasn't straightforward, and I wanted to make that clear.
For the side, I asked for "Cold Noodle Salad." Cold meant quiet. Silent. The nature of the discussion would be discreet, off the books. It was a necessary precaution.
"And Jasmine Tea. No sugar," I finished. A request for transparency, no sweeteners or attempts to dress up what they were going to talk about. This wasn't a casual meeting; it was direct, and we needed to meet face-to-face.
The waitress nodded, unaware of the code hidden in the meal, but someone else in the room would notice. It was all in the order—the message had been sent. All I had to do now was wait.
And I didn't wait for long as a bouncer looking Asian man came to my table before any of the food arrived.
"The chef will hear your compliments in the back." Is what he said, but the man guided me underground the restaurant through a dark corridor, until we reached a big meeting room.
The room was dim, illuminated only by a single hanging lamp that cast long shadows on the polished wooden table. As I stepped inside, I felt the heavy air settle around me, thick with tension. At the far end of the table, he sat, waiting. The "chef" barely moved, his presence like a coiled serpent—still, but full of latent power.
He tilted his head slightly as I approached, the light catching the deep claw scars that marked his face. They pulled at his skin, giving him a permanent, twisted smirk, as though he found amusement in every situation, no matter how dangerous. His sharp, almond-shaped eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that made my skin prickle. His hands, adorned with a simple jade ring, rested calmly on the table, but I could feel the violence simmering just beneath his poised exterior. You don't survive in this business by being weak.
As I got closer, the faint, salty scent of soy washed over me, blending with the rich scent of incense burning in the corner. It was an odd contrast—almost domestic, yet unsettling, like he carried with him the aroma of the kitchens where secrets and alliances simmered alongside the meals that fueled his empire.
"So? Who do I owe the pleasure?" he said, his voice low and smooth, but with an edge sharp enough to cut. His lips barely moved, but every word carried weight. There was no impatience in his tone, only control—an awareness that everything unfolded according to his plan, and you had just stepped into his web.
He gestured to the chair opposite him, and without waiting for your response, continued. "Sit. We have much to discuss."
I sat, unconcerned of his pressure and eyed those scars. I am sure he appears threatening to normal people, but what kind of idiot fights with bears or tigers by choice? Or if he got ambushed, then he is even more stupid. This all tough look? As far as I knew Mr. Chow had no abilities. I could kill him easely if I wanted to.
"You may refer to me as Adam. I want to buy some weapons and combat equipment. "
"Adam?" He pondered for a second, observing my figure. I was dressed in a shirt and tie, one of the few occasions where I needed them. He was looking at my face, though I don't know what he saw.
"You have eyes devoid of life Adam. But this is none of my business. I assume you have the money on hand?"
I opened the case to show him. A satisfied expression was on Chow's face. He raised from his seat and guided me to one of his armories. Shelves upon shelves of weapons, but most of them were useless to me. I got two FNX-45 Tactical pistols with integrated suppressor. I couldn't believe my eyes upon seeing how small their suppressors were. The chef let me test them and they were the real thing. Coupled with red dot and about ten more magazines, I payed 10k Zols for them.
Chow also had another device that interested me. It looked like a combination between a revolver and a flare gun which he said shot 8 gauge shotgun rounds. That was 5k Zols.
But I didn't come here for those. What I wanted was a Hao Suit. It was a mesh similar to latex or perhaps the suits divers use that covers the whole body, besides a face mask. In it are small tubes that when filled with a certain liquid reinforce the material to a level I only saw in fiction. Some special operation teams use these because they are Level III+ bulletproof. Onlya 50 caliber rifle or higher can pierce them.
The suit and it's special liquid, plus the mask were military grade, illegal equipment which cost me 150k Zols. I also bought a powerful knife he called Benchmade claymore, multiple 10000 lumen flashlights and some restraining gear.
Under further consideration, I picked up some hao mines. They were produced by the same company as the suit. All of this left me with 15k Zols left, a duffle bag with my armor and the briefcase filled with weapons, mines and grenades. I paid a taxi to get me to about a ten minute distance from the academy, and what do I see in the distance? That same blonde woman was waiting to catch me going into the Academy. This means she knew I was working here.
But now I was the one trailing her.
I pulled out one of my pistols and pressed it against her back. She tried to turn by reflex, but I gently blocked her way with the briefcase.
"Don't move. Let's get to a better place to talk."
I guided her to a somewhat forgotten back alley behind a big apartment block why she kept her hands up.
I took the restraining bands from the Chef and after tepping them on her arms they automatically tightened. I then did the same with her feet, leaving her to fall face down on the concrete. Leaving my briefcase and duffle-bag to the side, I got on my knees on her back and pointed my pistol at her head.
"Now, you've wasted quite a lot of time following me. So why don't we get on with it? Who are you?"
This woman tried to get me off her physically, but the bands held still. I didn't know they were superhero grade. Just then a small dagger got thrown behind me from her hands, grazing my shirt. I was almost hit! I rammed her skull in the concrete as a response.
She growled like an animal.
Then she gave up.
"When I heard from the Donn that you died I didn't believe it. The nameless got caught by a pitiful explosive?" Huh? So she was from his side...
"I saw you talking with Moon girl so I followed her. The more you know, the bastard was alive!" This woman was getting on my nerves.
"As if I care how you found me. Who are you bitch?" I rammed her head again while blood spilled from her mouth. Unlike the heroes, I had no reason not to kill her.
"Damn! You'd do your old partner so dirty. Such an asshole." Old partner? What is she talking about?
"Who?"
Seemingly annoyed, she finally stopped wasting my time.
"The changeling? Doesn't that ring a bell?" Ahhh. I do remember her. But we weren't partners. She... Or He? Was a mercenary with which I interacted on a few past mission. He had the same role as Mike, the spotter from UltraMan's end. As in to support me. But why would I care to remember someone like that? Why does she care about me? Was she camouflaged between UltraMan's family when I was at the funeral? It would be in character for the Donn to have another agent to confirm my confirmation.
"So why bother search for me?"
"Look. Fabio didn't betray just you. I was also a victim. My whole family was killed. My wife, my children. He wanted to erase me! Just like he tried to do with you. I.... I need you help. Someone with your ability."
" For what?"
" Together we can kill him! We can finally end all this running away thing. I am sure you have being between heroes." It's true that it didn't fill me with joy. But working with her...him?
"To work together huh.... Like the old times?"
"Yes! Why don't we do it homeboy?" I didn't particularly trust the changeling, but he was a very expensive mercenary, and his proficiency I can trust.
I got up from her back and picked up my briefcase and duffle-bag.
" Hey, don't you let me out fo these things hubby? It's not fair to let a maiden cuffed in a dark place. What will the bystanders think?"
Yet I payed her no mind. Her loose beige dress was now dirtied by the concrete's dust.
" Sofia. Do you remember our mission on that cruise ship in the 63rd year after the coronation?"
" Ah yes! It was a pool party at a manor in the 61st year. Classic of the nameless to not remember anything. But I sure do! What of it?" Right. I never bothered with the past, but this was different.
" Remember how you kissed me to "blend in" with the crowd out there?"
" Yes, we were playing a couple right? What of it?"
" What do you mean "what of it?" You put stained my face with those dirty, disgusting lips of yours. Back then I couldn't hit you with so many people here, but what about now?" Considering how many people the Changeling had slept with I was honestly concerned for my health. Who knows what disease I could have taken? After that I did weeks of tests in hospitals so I didn't even earn much from that assassination. Such a loss was much more memorable than whatever the Vampire was trying to do to me. Three days ago.
"W-what? You'll really take revend on little, frail me?"
"No, you are not worth touching. I kind of have a thing to do so I can't be bothered to learn how to unlock those bands. Figure it out yourself."
" What!? No! You can't leave me here!"
" Consider it the payment. There is a good coffee shop. Al Vente? I don't really remember. Find it on Umaps. We'll meet there tomorrow, in the evening probably, at about 7?"
" Wait, come back!"
I got to the Academy strapped to the teeth in equipment. Tonight will be the big day.
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