First Steps Toward Legend
Soo steps into the bathroom and scrubs for a good long while. Come to think of it, she hasn't properly bathed since waking up in that lab. And with hair this long, it takes even more time. Waist-length locks go beyond mere washing—it's practically laundry. Still, Soo doesn't complain. She washes diligently, meticulously. No reason to ruin such a pretty, perfect face by slacking off.
Finally clean and squeaky fresh, she emerges to find Enoch munching a hot dog with the face of someone who's just crunched a bug.
"Chew a bug mid-bite?"
"...Until recently, I was the guy sleeping under bridges like you mentioned. You think a guy like that makes a bug face because the lodging's not to his liking? For real?"
"Then what?"
"You... don't give a damn about how others see you, do you?"
"Yeah."
Soo nods nonchalantly, drying her hair with wind magic as she flops onto the bed. The breeze is cool rather than hot, so it'll take a while, but no hands needed—super convenient.
"So, no bugs?"
"...None."
"Then I should eat too."
Bugs in food? Common as dirt. Especially street eats in Velvet Mile.
"Ha...)
Enoch sighs, watching Soo casually devour her hot dog without a care. Yelling or griping won't faze her. That's just her personality. And... she's not picking on him on purpose... right? Probably not. No... way.
And even if she is, so what? She saved his life, after all. Killing him socially... or whatever... damn.
'Fuck this.'
Still, letting it slide isn't easy. The name Enoch the mercenary sells. Sure, folks here will chalk it up to a drunken dream and forget by tomorrow. But someday, hearing his name again, they'll remember...
"...Tch. So why'd you come here? What about the office... er, home?"
"Mm."
Soo chews and swallows her hot dog vigorously, tilting her head.
"Two weeks?"
"Two weeks what?"
"Gonna head to another city in about two weeks."
"After finally cutting ties with Ilya?"
"Those ties... uh... yeah...?"
Soo's face scrunches slightly, savoring the aftertaste. Hot dog's flavor is weird. Tastes right at first chew, but leaves a nasty linger after swallowing.
"Eugh..."
All that talk of synthetic meat, and this is it? Way too gamey for Soo's palate, at least.
"Enoch, eat this."
Soo shoves her half-eaten hot dog at him and pulls out stir-fried noodles—the classic Chinese-American kind from games and movies. She splits the chopsticks with a snap, eyes sparkling, humming as she continues.
"Lü Chen and Zailek are gonna throw down soon."
"Aren't they already?"
Soo takes a bite of noodles, her face lighting up. Tastier than expected.
"Right now it's just skirmishes. Someone wants to escalate."
"Escalate the board, huh."
Enoch's mind races to a conclusion.
"...Neonic's plotting to profit off a localized war between Lü Chen and Zailek."
Nearly backstabbed to death by Kalthas, but Enoch's no fool. Far from it. Surviving a year of cleanup gigs with no backing proves it.
"So Iri... na was Neonic's connector?"
"Who knows?"
Soo doesn't confirm, but she figures there's a Neonic link for now. Hand Lü Chen dirt to Zailek, and Zailek hits back. Lü Chen retaliates, board escalates—from net propaganda to field shadows. Neonic, the third megacorp, scoops the gains as the other two bleed.
Thus, Irina sells Lü Chen intel to Zailek and reports the chain to Neonic. Or maybe just sells and stops. But her reaction when Soo tested her... she's tied somewhere. Zailek, Neonic, or Aegis Systems with its netwatchers.
"Best cut the speculation at Irina. Either way, Zailek and Lü Chen clash locally, Neonic profits... that the read?"
"Yeah."
"Hence two weeks... hm? Two weeks?"
Too late. Zailek moves fast post-intel. Lü Chen will too, prepping defenses once the lab raid hits. Zailek, aggressive as they are, might strike tomorrow...
"Hold up."
Soo's earlier words echo: riding the wave, not shifting it.
"No way."
Two weeks? Plenty to achieve something in that war.
Enoch's shocked eyes fix on Soo. She's blissfully slurping noodles.
"Soo."
"Mm?"
"What the hell are you planning?"
"Eat and sleep."
"No, the corp war. Not small fry—Lü Chen and Zailek. Jumping in means... we die."
Soo picks cabbage from her noodles, drops it in Enoch's, and smiles lazily.
"It's fine. We won't."
War kills heroes. Chaos births them.
"Huh."
Soo blinks, scanning the shabby car interior. Enoch's ride, obviously. Weird part: she's in the back seat, strapped in tight.
Retina clock reads 2 PM. Slept since 11 PM last night—15 hours straight.
"Nngh..."
Her tail slithers free, unbuckles her, and props her up gently. Rubbing her eyes, she peers at the driver's seat.
"Morning."
"Sleep well?"
"Yeah. Totally."
"Heh, dead to the world... hell, I basically kidnapped you."
Soo wouldn't wake at checkout. Shaking, calling—no dice. Couldn't ditch her, so Enoch brushed teeth, splashed face, loaded her in at 11 AM. Two more hours after grabbing his gear from home.
Enoch chuckles dryly.
"Wanna merc? Sleep with ears open. Attacks come anytime."
"Boomer."
Soo wriggles forward, digs into Enoch's sandwiches.
"Irina wired the fee."
"Quick."
"Wants a call when you're up."
"Yeah. How far to sector 3?"
"Ten minutes. Almost there."
Last night, Soo said meet Miko's recommended fixer for reinforced tendons. Enoch, hyped, tagged along despite the letdown. But morning? Soo snoozed, he hustled solo. Ripe for annoyance, yet no complaints. Irina's payout vaporized any gripe.
"Who's the fixer?"
Tried asking yesterday, but post-meal Soo crashed. Even "brush teeth" got a mumbled "Dragons don't get cavities" as she hugged her tail and konked out.
"Dunno."
No info from the start...
"...You don't know?"
"Yeah."
"Good I geared up."
"Fight?"
"Might."
"Fair."
Soo finishes the sandwich, swipes Enoch's coffee. Grimaces.
"Add syrup next time. Bitter."
"You steal my shit and complain...?"
"Hey, Irina."
Hangs up on him mid-sentence. Enoch's too stunned to laugh.
Irina's vanishing act startles Enoch, but Soo expected it.
"Thanks for the payout anyway."
[...Whatever you think, that's how I roll.]
"Yeah."
Silence, then a deep sigh from Irina—like cigarette smoke wafting through.
[The war'll blow up big. Mercs get 'used.' You're at risk too.]
"Why care about us?"
[Haha.]
Light, ghostly laugh.
[Who knows. Maybe that beer and cheap jerky last night hit different.]
"Thanks for worrying."
Soo wants to see Irina's face, her pose, expression. This game-original character's a mystery. But the words suffice now.
"Catch you later."
[Ha... yeah. Stay in one piece till then.]
Another sigh—lighter this time.
[Congrats on your first step toward legend, Enoch. And Soo.]
Call ends. Eye contact, grins, fist bump.
"Can't call boozing at Nightfall a pipe dream anymore."
"Yeah."
Crunch—Enoch parks, nods at the building.
"Wilson Apartments. Here."
"Yeah."
"Sparrow dreams of pigeon, right?"
"Yeah. Spot on."
"Pigeon... odd code."
Enoch exits, uneasy. Soo hides her tail, follows.
"412. Lights on."
Yellow glow leaks—someone's home.
"Let's go."
Suppressor gleams on Enoch's Moonlight. He racks the slide, checks chamber, holsters. Building looked decrepit outside; inside's worse. Blood-like stains, moldy walls, cracked tiles scattered. Lights dim despite being on; some spark pzzt. Faint TV droning hints at life.
Still beats Enoch's dump.
That place is unlivable, cyberpunk or not.
Soo vows, climbing stairs. 4th floor, 412 right at the landing—weird layout.
Enoch scans: clear. Nods.
Soo trots up, knocks.
"Sparrow dreams of pigeon."
No answer. No stir.
Head tilt. Knock again.
"Sparrow dreams of pigeon."
Nothing. Enoch approaches, brow twitch.
"...Wrong code?"
"Nah, right."
Swallow? Pigeon or swallow? Soo sniffs.
"Huh...?"
Fishy whiff at her nose. Familiar. One she'll never stomach.
Crack—door rips free.
No time for Enoch to stop her or gape.
"Whoa..."
Inside: corpse politely seated, bullet hole in forehead.
"...Soo."
"Yeah."
"Fixer's traits?"
"Tattoo covering half his face."
No more needed. Hole in head? Miko's guy. Dead.