"It's quiet in here. It's too quiet..."
Typical phrase uttered seconds before the asshole starts.
Next morning. The King of Thieves' lair.
"Mr-r-r..." - who says there's no such thing as a good morning? If you wake up in the arms of a beautiful and completely unclothed girl with whom you spent a very productive day and an even more productive night... it's a good morning. To which I congratulated Neo.
"(^_____^)," a satisfied face was my reply. Well, the lady was definitely satisfied, and I rediscovered another advantage of Aura user, it not only heals, but also... hmmm... maintains strength.
"Shower, breakfast or shall we continue?"
" (<_<)..." - A very deep thoughtfulness, interrupted by the distinct rumbling of Cutie's tummy.
" I see. Let's you get in the shower and I'll make breakfast."
"(^_^)," I got a quick peck on the lips and slipped out from under the blanket, before sauntering off in the right direction, completely unashamed of my appearance... however, after all that had happened, it was really kind of silly to be embarrassed in any way.
Well, breakfast was breakfast. It won't take long to put the kettle on and cut some sandwiches... and then I can join my little girl, I promised to watch her in the shower, didn't I? I'll watch her. And rub her back. Uh, or not just her back, heh-heh.
In general, we had to heat the kettle again, but none of us was upset by this circumstance. Life was fine and dandy. Until a call from a very unpleasant number.
"At the machine."
"Roman," came from the other end in an erotic voice. Except that I had a lasting disgust for some reason, rather than any kind of "longing".
" Cinder. To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?"
"Oh, I just wanted to congratulate you on your success... and also to remind you that we need so much more..."
"Cinder, darling," I think she twitched on the other end. "Slightly," she said, 'I'd be more than happy to, but one batch of this size in a week or two is the maximum you can get with this much manpower and without raising the authorities' panic level beyond acceptable. And even at this rate, the targets will run out very soon. And we'll be lucky if we don't get a good ambush at every next point in a couple weeks.
" Hmm, so you need more people to speed up the work and get there before the ambushes show up? "
"Oh," I sigh heavily into the tube. - "If I get enough enforcers, I can clean this city in a week, down to the very last grain of Ashes, but it'll be pointless, because in the bacchanal that ensues, the authorities will be searching every box in the back alley. They'll bring in all the Hunters from the continent, take all the middlemen and all the bosses by the throat, and open up the locations of all our warehouses in the same week, catching all the White Fang and sympathizers along the way, then crack them open and collect everything known and thought of among these flea-bitten revolutionaries on us. Do you want that?"
" ... "- a respectful (I hope) silence was my answer.
"So yes, I need people," I confirmed more peacefully. - "Adequate, able to work with their heads, and if you can not completely without a pain in the ass on the subject of 'kill all humans', then at least that the size of this pain does not press on their brains. Then everything will be great and wonderful. And by the way, I still propose to hire a gang, you'll see, they'll be as useful as your... pets. "
"Not again, Roman. I don't want to involve outsiders whose ability to keep their mouths shut I'm not sure. But I will send you more manpower... Adequate manpower," she added after a pause. Really? Something big died somewhere... Oh, yeah, those tests I did on the friendly Goliath... -" But..." - here we go, "I'm gonna have to do some outside work. "
"Hmm?"
"I heard the liaison already relayed to you a request from Adam to take care of a little trouble he's been having? You do that. In the meantime, I'll get you some more... people," the connection went dead.
"That bitch," I gritted my teeth. I realize that "bloodbath" is an effective tactic, especially in this world, even though it's not used very often, but it doesn't make me feel any better. I've managed to get by without any corpses so far, and I'd like to see that continue (if it's not the corpses of Cinder and Adam and the White Fang fanatics, of course), so I have to think of a way out of this situation. You can do nothing, but then poor Tucson will be killed by Mercury and Emerald, a couple of Cinder's henchmen, unencumbered not only by morals, but even by any "notions", damn outlaws....
" (>_>)," - twitch, twitch.
" I'm fine, Neo. Just another unpleasant 'request' from our 'esteemed employer'," - I wanted to spit at every phrase.
" ..." - heavy sigh.
" Uh-huh. Can I ask you a small favor? "
" (v_V)?" - A businesslike nod and a focused look.
" Take a walk around the morgues, I need to take a closer look at where I can possibly get the corpse of a large man in his forties. "
"(O_O)?"
" I'm a thief, not an assassin, so I'll solve the problem with my own methods. "
"(^_^)," I nodded. I was kissed again and started to get ready to go to the city.
I, having puzzled the lady, went back to the machines, i.e. the workbench. Load the consumables, fill up with Ashes, and sit down to finish the rail to perfection. Next in line was the cooling system. The thing is that even when strengthening weapons with Aura, using Air Ashes in projectiles and gravi-hanging cartridges, the conductive rails were heating up. The higher the temperature of the conductor, the worse its conductivity, and the worse the conductivity, the weaker the shot and the more the conductor warms. The design of the railgun itself did not provide for firing in bursts, but I was not satisfied with "three shots per minute" as for a muzzle-loading musket, or five, but "on the melt of the barrel".
I was not happy with it. However, this problem was solved simply - an aluminum casing with an admixture of Ice Dust and a small crystal storage of the same type in the base. In theory, it would last for a thousand shots. On top of it is a polymer heat-insulating coating, so that you don't freeze your hands off... well, or you don't have to spend Aura to protect your hands. All that's left is to screw a discharger onto the end of the barrel, which can be powered from the same ash battery that supplies energy to the firing mechanism. What's it for? Just in case the weapon is switched to plasma gun mode - the spark breakdown will have to create a superconducting channel, given that the initial beam will be accelerated just in the direction of the breakdown, it will not need to go "backwards". In theory. In practice, I will have to play with voltage again, perhaps I will have to put a capacitor or even another Ashes Battery, even a small one, at the end of the barrel. I'm lighting a new cigar. It's going to be a lot of thought and work.
I struggled with the models almost until evening, but the result was worth it - four variants, almost identical to each other in appearance, if there was a normal range, it would be possible to limit to one, just feeding the inputs of the weapons from the generator the necessary power, but, alas, in my case it was much easier and cheaper to build a "pre-production" sample at once, simply because, if I had Prakh, it would take half an hour to build a battery of the required format, but a controllable generator is more complicated, there is neither the necessary software nor drawings, it would take too long to steal the necessary stuff or invent it myself, and if I could still "birth" the generator, the "brains" for it ... not on local software for sure, because I don't understand a damn thing about it. So, a standard beast.
Anyway, when Neo came back and decided she'd had enough and came to pull me out from behind the car, there were four futuristic-looking rifles on a shelf and her favorite boss sitting surrounded by cigarette butts, looking at them thoughtfully.
" ..."
" Oh, you're back already?" - indefinite gesture. - "Uh? Four hours ago? Sorry babe, got carried away."
" (-_-)..." - I waved my hand hopelessly and... dragged myself to lunch.
I was already in the kitchen with a roast, some kind of juice, morsels or compote, it didn't matter, and a nice group of people.
"Neo, did I tell you I love you?"
"(^_^)," I nod.
" It's still my pleasure to repeat, I love you! And now, bon appetit! May this food be zohavanah!"
" (^___^)."
After dinner and the traditional washing up, I turned once again to my faithful maid.
"So, my dear Neo, we need to go shooting again!"
" (T_T)," yeah, doing it with a full tummy isn't so cool, but what can you do.
"We have to, Neo, we have to."
"(Q‸Q)..."
" Okay, but tomorrow morning for sure. How's my request going, any progress?"
"(^_^)," she nodded. The girl took out her Scroll, or rather, the 'tablet' modification rather than just a 'cell phone', and showed me a couple of points on Vale's map.
" Where will be the least trouble? "
" ..."-poking toward the hospital in the harbor district.
Logically, the port from ancient times was a place where too many people, things and money change their position. After the invention of "airliners" the turnover of goods by sea had fallen a bit, but "kerosene", or rather Gravi-Prah is expensive, so it was still much more profitable to transport something large-tonnage by sea, even despite the sea Grimm and the risks associated with them. And where there is profit and such pandemonium, there is always room for criminals and their squabbles. From gangs of "city rats" - street kids to quite "respectable people" in expensive suits, sitting in spacious offices and receiving their modest percentage for the fact that nothing happens to the cargo ... beyond the standard force majeure, of course. But let's leave the people in the expensive suits and go back to the easy ones. Territorial divisions, squabbles, shootings and the like. Ah, those memories of youth! In general, even though the participants of such fights, as a rule, tried to limit themselves to beating, but sometimes someone could overdo it. There were also cases when "hints" were not enough, and then they were already beaten to death, but it did not happen that often. But we are not proud people, we have enough random corpses.
"Good job," I stroked the girl's head, her eyes closed in pleasure. - "What do you want to do next, do you want to watch a movie or...? "
" (^_^)," Neo replied, pulling out the familiar packet and swallowing another pill before jumping on top of me.
" So, 'or' it is," I nodded to my thoughts before proceeding to wrestle tongues with the tasteful little minx... my minx.
***
The next morning, cheerful and satisfied, I picked up the girl, who had not slept well but was also satisfied, and ordered her to prepare the bullhead for flight, while I cut sandwiches and poured coffee into a thermos - there was no time to waste, I had big plans for today! I was also a little tempted to shoot a real railgun myself! Of course, after the model would pass the tests and launches through the "Crooked Gun", but I was eighty percent sure that at least one of the four rifles would pass the tests.
The Hour of Trial had arrived! How tired I was of waiting! It's been a long road to the goal! The dark essence of magic and light! Ahem... I'm really getting carried away and I'm getting off on the wrong foot. Speaking of magic, if I remember correctly, it was all from the Black Dragon, who also created the grimm, so the song is appropriate. It's very appropriate, but okay, let's leave the big boss thoughts for later and get back to my Charming.
The first stage of testing, namely firing in the railgun mode, went smoothly, and the Ashes-treated copper arrow was approved as standard ammunition, the steel one became armor-piercing, and the gravi-launcher became an ultimatum argument. Adding other types of Ashes was pointless, compared to the pure kinetic damage, a couple grams of Fire, Electric, Earth or Ice didn't look out of place at all. All four rails showed themselves perfectly, the rate of fire was also remarkable - ninety shots per minute the weapon held calmly, without deviations in characteristics, it will even be possible to reduce the drink of the radiator shroud with Ice Ashes.
In general, we started to work on the standard statistics, of course, it's better to shoot to failure, but... I'm too much of a toad, and I don't think it's necessary - we shouldn't forget about Aura's reinforcement. Anyway, the routine began. Neo, who at first watched the shooting with some enthusiasm, began to pose and often went to our vehicle to refuel with another cup of coffee and eat a sandwich, while I continued to take data. Finally, thinking that they were more than enough, I switched the battery power regulator to maximum impulse, setting it to fifty kilovolts instead of thirty, and changed the ammunition to the very first type-an aluminum chuck with a Fire Ashes dispersal module, essentially an ordinary bazooka cartridge, except that the detonation comes from a spark and the bullet is cast from a different metal instead of lead. Okay, model one, it's got an arrestor on the end, directly powered by an Ashes battery. Let's get a little farther away... fire!
"W-J-J-J-J-J-J-J-J-J-J! BOOM!" - The now familiar fireball passed through the railgun and detonated the battery.
" (O_O)?" - Neo peeked out of the pepelago, seemingly having decided to take a nap there.
"Uh-huh, direct power doesn't give enough power. Let's continue..."
"(T_T)..." - With a heavy sigh, the girl climbed back into the bullhead, the sounds of liquid being poured could be heard. Hey, she's going to drink all my coffee like that! Not good... Lighting a cigar from the glowing hulk of the barrel and taking a deep puff, so... where was the fire extinguisher? Roman's smart, Roman figured out to put it in this time!
Model number two, with a capacitor that accumulated charge from the battery, showed itself a little better, but the plasma ball just "thought" about where it should go, eventually hung on the barrel for a second and a half and disintegrated, finally destabilized. The result was a small fountain of fire and a melted half of the railgun, but at least the battery survived, and that was good.
The third model, with a separate small battery at the end of the barrel and a slightly modified discharger, in order to add power from the main battery. That's the one that didn't go as planned. I just didn't take into account that the Ice Ash alloyed aluminum of the shroud would also be close to superconductivity. The voltage of one battery wasn't enough to break the polymer insulation, but two... As a result, the rifle hissed, covered with a network of discharges, and the miniature Sun that had already formed on its end flew not forward, not backward, but to the left and sideways... exactly where I was standing. All I could do was startle, not realizing what I was afraid of, because the flash and crackle of discharges weren't exactly the signs that could be used to guide the split-second it took for a lump of plasma to reach my location. And... nothing. I was standing in front of a burned-out clearing, the exact same one running off into the distance behind me. I'd read somewhere that the first few seconds of thermal burns from ultra-high temperatures are not felt - the sizzled nerve endings just don't have time to transmit a signal or something. I don't know, not a doctor... but... nothing happened.
Extremely cautiously, I slanted my eyes downward, for fear of seeing a black hole in my chest or something, but... nothing. Nothing at all, nothing at all. I dismissed the idea that the plasma charge was no more dangerous to the Aura user than the clapboard. Aura protects against physical effects, that's all, and an effect capable of vaporizing at least a dozen cubic meters of dense raw wood, and in fact - to pierce through several sheets of armor, can not be weak. But then what? The answer was obvious. If some strange thing happened to you, the Manifestation was to blame. But mine was the spatial pocket and manipulating it. Is that what I realized when I found it? Or is it not exactly like that? Or is it not even like that?! And if it's not like that, then... really?!
I slowly approach the nearest tree and... run my hand through its trunk.
"I'm a fool... There aren't three dimensions, but many more!" - I wanted to bang my head against the wall. Even though a person can realize only three-dimensional space, but theoretically they derived formulas even for sixteen-dimensional space! Even if I don't remember them and in general it was just an abstruse theory for "general development", which I couldn't even retell to my students without a manual, but... Damn it! Why did I think that my Manifestation is limited to only three dimensions?
Once again I run my palm through the barrel in the opposite direction.
Damn right! There are two spaces: the outside world and my "pocket". And I always maintain contact with both of them! Even when my body is completely in one of them, there is a binding to the coordinates of the second one, which allows me to both retrieve the necessary object outside and come out at a different point relative to the one where I entered. The fourth dimension of my being, or something like that, always stays in the second space relative to my physical body, providing a connection and anchoring to the coordinates... Or even several such dimensions - fifth, sixth, goddamn thirteenth - whatever, the point is that I can shuffle them between the two available spaces. I'm just like freaking Toby from Naruto, only without the stylish eyes!
" And even the passion for trolling is the same..." - I started laughing hysterically. - That's a bad sign. Very bad. Roman is definitely not a Good Boy, hehehe....
And did I mention that the locals sometimes hammer nails with microscopes? You're no better. Enclosing warehouses, carrying guns for every occasion, what else is there? Putting on OCDs with your mind for heavy combat? You don't want to phase-shift your physical body? Complete and absolute invulnerability to any damage, stupidly due to the fact that you are outside of reality, leaving in it, in fact, only a pure reflection of your body.
Okay, the main thing is to realize... and train the conditioned reflex. Hehehe... And stop laughing, even if it's nervous.
" (O_O)?" - Neo's head popped out of the airplane at the sound of a particularly badaboom and my laughter.
" It's alright, I just realized a funny thing and realized what kind of crap I used to suffer from! Come on, we're going home!" - Of course, I could try to break the last sample, but fuck it, there was a regular capacitor in there in addition to the second Prahov battery, it's a hundred percent likely to blow, first we need to strengthen the insulation and reduce the cooling level, it's obviously excessive. And I also need to get Neo out of here as soon as possible, she's not a stupid girl, she might suspect something, but to scare her with the fact that her favorite boss almost killed himself and was saved only by the Manifestation, which turned out to be much more powerful than he thought... I don't need that, anyway. So home.
At home, under Neo's sigh of resignation, I went back to the workbench. So, tear off the old plating, change the casing for "freshly printed", but with less Ice Dust, at the same time the crystal will now be enough for three-five thousand shots, but the insulation of the rails we will strengthen, it's a pity, we can't place a screen for field equalization in this insulation, or rather, we can place it, but it won't be useful, because there's nowhere to ground, so just more plastic and rubber! Hmm, and the rails can be made telescopic and a swivel mechanism can be added, similarly with plastic and rubber, then the rifle can be folded into a small pencil case! Br-r-r-r-r, put that Tech-Heresy aside! No additional mechanics and moving parts on the ground! Weapons should be as simple as a paddle! And I'm the one who has no use for compactness!
It took another two hours to "file" and fit the sample, bless the Gods-Dragons of the creator of workbenches, so I would have been steaming for two days. But in the end I had two rifles in my hands again, cleaned up, even with a full-fledged loading system, though I had to make a "bull-pup", or what is the correct name of the design, when the magazine is inserted behind the grip of the weapon, almost in the buttstock? But what can you do, the acceleration rail dictates its own conditions, and it is impossible to escape from them. So I went to make eyes at Neo, all handsome and carrying two guns.
"(>‸<)!" - The girl sulked and put her arms at her sides.
"(Q_Q)," she wasn't the only one who could make eye contact.
"(O_o)?"
"(T‸T)..."
" (O_O)?" - Her eye color even changed to white.
" Please, Neo, I've already finished, these are fully working prototypes!"
" (-_-)..."
" I remember saying something like that last time, but the past ones worked! No complaints about the rail, and now I've finished the plasma.""
" (-_-)..."
" I owe you five... no, ten scoops of ice cream!" - I applied the last argument.
" (-_-)..."
" And I also promise that I will carry at least ten more kilograms with me and give them out on demand. "
" (-_-)..." - A heavy sigh, and she walked off to the bullhead again. She showed me on her fingers that there wouldn't be a single normal clearing in Vale's vicinity without trees shot through.
This time the flight lasted almost an hour and a half, but we still found the place. However, we had to hastily clean it from grimms, but this was already becoming a routine. We cleaned it, set up the stand, and quickly checked the "railgunness". Finding no drastic differences from the previous tests and getting the same stable ninety shots per minute, I switched to plasma mode... after which I put my arm around Neo and shifted us both in phase. Just in case. Initiate.
"ZH-ZH-ZH-ZH-ZH-ZH-ZH-ZH-ZH-ZH!" - The plasma ball finally flew in the right direction, sweeping away everything in its path. -"Psh, psh," the barrel cooled. - "ZH-ZHU-ZHU-UH!" - another one. -"Pshh, pshh, pshh."
The result was twelve shots per minute, faster than that because of overheating, but the charge in the Ice Ash crystal would be enough for a hundred shots at most, although I would prefer to change it after eight dozen. Anyway, the result is stable and more than worthy. Tests of the second rifle were almost the same, except that the condenser was still an overkill... which additionally ionized the plasma clot itself. The brightly glowing white ball looked very impressive, and its temperature was obviously much higher, but in this mode the weapon could only fire two shots per minute, and the ice crystal was enough for only five shots. In general, it was too powerful, I'll keep it in my stash, but with such a "caliber" I could only hunt dragons... Mm, that's a thought.
In general, a working rifle was invented and "certified", so the rest of the day Neo and I... selflessly shot Grimm with railguns, sometimes with plasma volleys. Oh, how her eyes were blazing with excitement, and that slightly sticking out tongue when firing... By the way, it would be necessary to put optics, and it can be made "retractable", anyway there is an unused area under the frame. And for short range I should put in an LCU. So the day passed quite cheerfully and fruitfully, she even forgot about ice cream! Well... almost forgot.
After shooting and flying at will, we returned home, where we had a quick dinner of pizza and went to bed. This time - just to sleep, we got up early, we had run around a lot during the day, and in general we had a lot of good things. Besides, to go to sleep, clutching the beauty that trustingly pressed against you, is also very pleasant, I recommend it!
***
The bell on the door chimed, and I stepped inside. "Tucson's Bookstore looked... like a bookstore, which it was. Perhaps it was even cozier than the stores I was used to in my previous life, always combined with something else and looking like a department store with books on the shelves instead of groceries. Here... wooden furniture, warm colors, beautiful shelves, worthy of a solid library, and the salesman did not look like an ordinary employee of trade from those guys who filled everything, who clearly and frankly do not give a shit about everything, just to stand till the end of the working day and get money.
"Hello, can I help you?" - A tall, tightly bunched man with a disposable face and chic black sideburns rose readily from behind the counter.
" Yes!" I twirl my cane in my hand and head towards the vendor. - "I need to find a gift for a young girl with a strong sense of justice. Something high quality, written in good language and yet romanticized on the theme of rebel heroes misunderstood by society. Just no shiny sunshine characters, that's important!"
" Uh..." - Tucson puzzled for a few seconds. - "I'm not sure I understand your query exactly... You might be fine with 'Love Ninja', but that's a rather adult book, though it's considered romance."
"No, erotica is too early for us," I drummed my fingers thoughtfully on the hilt of my melee weapon. - "We need something lighter, but something where the protagonist is a villain in the eyes of society, but turns out to be a good guy who was pushed into crime by necessity and circumstance. If it takes place in a fantasy setting, even better."
" Hmmm," the salesman genuinely pondered, "I have something similar... but..." - he hesitated.
" But what?"
"You see, it's a story about a faun fox who robbed the rich and gave the money to the poor, and his confrontation with the local sheriff... Not the most popular literature in these times."
"Was he an archer in there by any chance?" - Since someone here could write a Divine Comedy, albeit a slightly different one from the one I'd read, maybe Robin Hood is here, too?
" Uh... no, he's the master of the sword there."
" Great! I'll take it!"
" Okay..." - With a shake of his eyebrows (I guess you can do that too), Tucson turned around and disappeared between the shelves behind his desk. I went to the magazine rack and pulled out the first one I could find. - "Here, that'll be thirty linen," the salesman returned a moment later.
"I think I'll also take these magazines with the latest weaponry..." - I put a couple of good photo editions on the counter I've been eyeing. Hood should like them.
"Sure," Tucson bagged up the purchases. - "All together will cost you fifty-seven linen."
"Here you go," I counted out the proper number of rectangles of local currency from my wallet and held out the money.
"Thank you for your purchase," the package slipped into my hands.
"Yes, it's a pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Tucson. By the way, would you satisfy my curiosity?"
"If it's within my power..."
"Wonderful! So, uh..." - I lean on my cane and look into the man's eyes. - "What's the point of being on the run and hiding from a group of blood thirsty terrorists calling a store by your own name?"
" mmm..." - The faun's eyes rounded confusedly.
" Just don't take it as a criticism, as far as I'm concerned, you deserve to immortalize your name in the title, but don't you find it a bit... risky?"
"... Who are you?" - the man squeezed himself out.
"Roman Torchwick, at your service," I touch two fingers to the brim of my hat. - "I'm someone who helps people solve their problems. Do you understand why I'm here?"
"Yes," the faun said again.
"You want specifics? I've got it! You and I have two courses of action. One: we don't agree and in a couple of hours the police will find the charred corpse of the owner, who was smoking before going to bed and accidentally burned down his own store and himself. Two: we'll make a deal and in a couple hours the police will also find the owner's charred corpse, but you'll be long gone by then, and then you'll be on a flight to Wakuo with new papers and identity. What's it gonna be? "
"They won't leave me alone, of course, will they? "
"Alas, a mutual acquaintance of ours has had too much osverine and wants to gore someone. I've chosen you, although, Gods know, it's almost physically painful to lose such a fancy book."
"Society's misunderstood rebel hero, huh?" - The smile on the faun's lips was crooked, but still real. I waved my hands in response. - "Good, except that I still won't be able to go where I want to go until a month from now-the new paperwork isn't ready yet. "
"Hmm, you're a strange faun, Tucson, they tell you they're coming for your head, and you want to wait for some paperwork. Anyway, you helped me find an interesting book for a good girl, so I'll give you some advice. First, the owner of Tucson's bookstore is going to die, so they won't be looking for you, but it's best to stay out of sight. The documents will be tomorrow morning, don't contact the person who makes them for you, don't contact anyone at all - you're dead. You'll spend the night at this address," I take a calendar from the counter and over it I print out the details of a very left-wing safe house in the harbor district. - "The keys are under the third brick on the left, and if you move it, he'll pop out. Don't show your face at the port, shave, change your hair, put some rollers under your cheeks. You'll get a ticket for the afternoon flight to Wakuo."
"'S-thank you," the faun nodded a little dazedly, "I don't even know how to express my gratitude..."
"Three things."
" I'm listening," the faun nodded seriously.
"Don't get caught... and send me the contacts of the new bookstore, of course. Just for heaven's sake, don't call it Tucson's Bookstore!"
"I won't," my mood was rising.
" Well, and thirdly... tell me about the White Fang schemes you were aware of. Methods of recruitment, adequate representatives and people like Adam. Bases, warehouses-- I need to know everything."
"Why?"
"Actually, it's your payment for your life, but okay, I'll tell you to work for your conscience, not your fear. Fang and someone else in cahoots with him are up to something very bad. Bad enough to stack the bodies in railroad cars. I don't like it, but blood will be shed either way. The only question is whose and how much. Right now I view the entire Fang as a mob of armed, aggressive fanatics, and my actions will be... appropriate. It's in your power to convince me that at least some of them are worth a closer look and not to cut them off," if he's caught and interrogated, Cinder will have a lot of questions for me... but what am I talking about, if the 'dead man' is caught, I'll have a lot of problems anyway.
" I... understand," Tucson replied cautiously.
"I certainly hope so. I'm already taking an extreme risk helping you."
" But... why are you doing all this in the first place?"
" I have my own 'code of honor', if I may say so. I'm a thief, not an assassin, and certainly not an errand boy. And I just don't like the idea of being tied up in blood. Okay, enough politeness, start packing for the move and start with the sideburns, while telling me the information I need - I still have to organize an "accidental fire" here."
" Okay, I may be long since retired, but I can tell you a few things about the "adequate" members of the White Fang. Starting with Blake Belladonna."
About an hour later.
"To think what I've come to? Burning books like some medieval obscurantist..." - I light my cigar on a cheerful light from a nearby shelf. - "There! Here, Neo! That's what I was talking about!" - I'm taking a drag. - "Cooperating with the White Fang leads to degradation!"
" (~_~)..." - The girl holding me under her elbow stroked my forearm carefully.
"And I can't even steal it all, can you imagine?" - The fire around me was growing more and more, but since we were out of phase, it didn't affect me or my faithful servant. - "I am literally having my vocation ripped out of my soul from the root, and I am forced to condone it!"
" (>_>)..."
" Well yeah, we picked up a few things, I should know, what was it that Bunty found in that Love Ninja? But look around! So much mental labor, so much poured out emotion, strained minds and sleepless nights... the painstaking work of editors, after all, I'm not even talking about illustrators and graphic artists. And all this I am forced to burn like a savage barbarian..." - another puff. I seriously tried to figure out how and from where the air gets into the space where we stay during the phase shift, but I never found anything. It was just the fact that the surrounding flames and smoke didn't touch us in any way unless I consciously wanted to let them touch us. - "Terrible..."
I was stroked sympathetically again, and my cheek rubbed against my hand.
" Eh, okay," I shake off the ashes. - "Let's get out of here. I hope our new friend doesn't screw up the conspiracy, or it's going to be sad..."
Neo nodded in agreement. As usual, my faithful maid accompanied me to the operation under the illusion of her absence, allowing only me to see herself. She quietly took a picture of the man on her Scroll when we agreed and sent it to the right place. Then the photos will be edited a little to the standard passport "kind of similar, if you look very closely", a couple of tricks to discount a few years to make the document look more believable, and inserted into the necessary bases. Agree, if the photo in the passport, which you supposedly received years ago, looks like it was taken five minutes ago, it will arouse suspicion even in the dumbest checker.
However, to be honest, until the very last moment I wasn't sure what to do with this guy. On the one hand, I didn't like the canonical solution to the "Tucson Problem" through two young scum, but I didn't want to kill the faun myself or have Neo do it, including for the very reasons I told him. Nevertheless, if he had been an average, dumb faun who'd escaped from White Fang only because of personal tensions with his superiors, I would have crushed his skull without the slightest remorse. And yes, I had a good look inside myself, thinking about this question, and clearly realized that I wouldn't even lose my appetite for such a thing. In my mind, I knew it was kind of immoral, but there was no emotional response. In the end, I decided to rely on chance and give the guy a chance to determine his own future. Basically, it all depended on what impression he would make on me when I met him in person. Cruel, I don't mind saying, but honest and without hiding behind circumstances.
Now Tucson was already "dead", "choking on carbon monoxide", and would soon be charred at a table in a produce warehouse, surrounded by a still life of empty bottles and cheap canned goods for snacks. The fact that I wasn't sure what scenario to work from didn't mean those scenarios weren't prepared. In fact, just for the current one, I needed a corpse of a man of roughly the same build as Tucson. But one corpse was not enough, it was necessary to prepare documents, history, and preferably a face, however... Ashes spoiled not only local engineers, but also medics. Plastic surgeries were not skillful here, not even at the level of skin grafting and scarring, and there was nothing to say about any changes in the shape of the nose and facial oval. However, with the rest was no problem - their people had in the police, in the administration and in the hospital, so a couple of calls, a couple of transfers of a thousand and a half lien - and in three days all the bases are ready, just insert the photo of the client. In fact, it would be inserted right now, as soon as it was richtig in Photoshop.
Dörg....We'd just come through the wall and were starting to move away from the scene when the girl tugged at my sleeve. By the way, that was one of the reasons why Roman was walking around in his throwback outfit, which I was now using, without fear of being recognized and grabbed. It's very hard to recognize and capture a guy you don't see until he decides to show up spectacularly. It's not like there's always a danger of running into Hunters with good instincts or unpleasant Manifestations at a restricted facility like Bikon, and the security systems there make you work hard all the time, but on a city street, no one cares about the faces of random passersby.
"What, my good one?" - Turning my face to Neo.
" (^_^)," she smiled, but then went back to business. A characteristic click on her throat," "(H_H)... (-_-)... (>_>)?"
" Hmm, you mean to tell me they won't find any traces of alcohol in that burned corpse? Come on, nobody's going to do an expensive forensic examination for the sake of an obvious case, you know how our valiant police officers feel about their work. And if they do, they'll find traces of fire ashes on the shelves, and the lack of money in the safe, and the fact that the store closed not on schedule, then the working version will be robbery and murder, which tried to disguise as an accident. If our mutual acquaintance has her own people in the Vail police force, then such a version is just what she wants to see."
" (^_^)."