2195 Apartheid (5-2)
After a massive uproar tangled up in dignity issues and sheer suspicion finally blew over, the broker started his detailed presentation against the mercenaries silently holding their ground and me.
"Ahem... As you can see, the target is Dusk, the boss of the drug cartel Painkiller holed up in Yellow Sector—what we call the lower district, the slums. More precisely, it's about capturing him alive and extracting the drug data from the storage implant in his head. That's what our client is after."
"""..."""
"Uh... um..."
Nervous glances flew back and forth. Even Omen, who could make one-against-a-hundred look like a joke, was glaring daggers, so clearly there were a lot of gaps in the explanation... But with my limited info on Harvest Planet, I couldn't pinpoint the main problems.
"Right... Painkiller's been a longstanding headache. They've built up some serious power because of it. But you're not seriously saying the four of us are supposed to go to war with the whole organization, are you?"
The broker waved off Horatio's question as the group's rep.
"...I didn't explain enough. Sorry about that. The merc teams hired by other brokers splitting this job will kick off the full war tonight at 10 PM. The team I'm assembling—you lot—just needs to snag that key data."
"...Crystal clear. So we rip that Dusk fucker apart, then escort Ivory safely up to him, right?"
The human weapon stood quietly, cracking his knuckles with murderous intent as he summed it up.
In the end, my job as this team's hacker—assigned to me—was simpler than I'd thought. Stick behind my teammates in the bullet-riddled battlefield, trust them to have my back, safely extract the info from the miraculously captured enemy boss, then get back alive and hand it over to Paradise Corporation.
...Fuck, I deliberately picked a job stacked with combat personnel just to avoid this bullshit field op, and now I've gotten properly screwed.
Demanding hazard pay and specialist skills for a measly ten million credits? Gotta hand it to these mega corp bastards' budget-cutting skills.
"The city police will lock down the area, so no worries about civilian casualties at all. It'll just be the hired mercs and Painkiller goons inside the op zone."
With that, he closed his laptop, packed up, and added one more thing that pinged something off for me too. City cops controlling the perimeter means no civilian harm...? How the hell?
Sensing the same doubt, Horatio grilled the broker heading for the door.
"...Hey. You're flipping the middle of the slums upside down, and that place is crawling with junkies... No civilian casualties at all?"
Click...
He gripped the doorknob right before leaving and stated flatly.
"...Paradise Corp has unofficially informed us that Yellow-grade and lower Green-grade citizens only have the right to live in the city—no system obligation to protect their personal safety or private property. ...They even said it's fine to snag a few secretly to verify the drug's effects. So... if you need extra pay..."
Crash!!
The empty bottle hurled with all his might shattered against the door.
"Get the fuck out! On your way, call room service to clean up this trash too!!"
"...My mistake."
Sensing the air had turned as ugly as it could get, the broker bowed his head and vanished quick.
Corporations replaced the government, but they didn't take every role. They sliced the cake however they liked, hogging the sweet parts and scattering the bland toppings and base everywhere.
It was too much from a mere game setting to ignore... The words of Paradise's chairman from a past storyline kept echoing in my ears.
No credits, no customer. No customer, no human.
"...See it as a good opportunity, Daredevil. You can't expect everyone to come out unscathed while carving out the rot."
"...Nickname's gonna cry. Since when did you care about that shit...?"
Omen and Domino patted the bowed Horatio's shoulder, shot me a glance, and slipped out.
...Huh? How'd it end up just me and this guy?
And that last look felt like they were asking me to comfort him or something, but I don't do that shit. I owe them for the help, so I wanna do something... What, drag him somewhere and pour booze down his throat? No way, not with mission time in mind...?
"......"
"...Ah?"
Horatio's arms reached for me like he craved warmth. My heart, already churning at the mercenary wobbling like a rudderless dinghy in a storm, about to collapse, hardened with resolve.
...Yeah, I've been through enough to know how much another person's presence helps in times like this. If lending out this... scrawny chest can ease someone's mind, then sure, as much as you want...
"?!"
Smack!!
"Gahk?!"
I sidestepped the spiky mohawk and smacked his crown. I'd meant to pull his lowered head into a hug... but at the last second, I spotted that rotten smirk on his lips.
You crazy fuck...!!
"Fuck! Is that all that's in your head?! I was trying to pay back a favor, and what the hell's with the act?!"
"...Ahahaha! Can't beat Ivory sis after all! You're a total iron wall!"
I backed off from the perv, securing a safe distance while fuming. He clutched his head—handprint and all—and laughed his ass off. It pissed me off extra, not just 'cause of the sleazy lust, but 'cause he seemed to have some real baggage and was pulling this to dodge it.
"...From the slums? Yellow-grade?"
"...What, common as dirt. Kids who don't know shit about the world's dangers band together, do whatever the fuck they want chasing credits. Used to be over fifty of us... now just three left."
...If three out of fifty penniless, backless kids made it as decent mercs, the world would clap. But seeing Horatio's bitter smile, my chest ached more thinking of the sorrows they must've endured along the way.
"Anyway...! That's why I fucking love you, sis! Not just the skill to ignore my firewall... You get how crucial credits are but stay pure, untouchable! That wary yet worried look in your eyes...!! Isn't it too dazzling? Huh?"
"...So not just plain horniness?"
Heat rushed to my face at the sudden curveball praise.
There's limits to hyping someone up, this is just... flattery. Yeah, pure flattery.
Horatio slapped his knee, cracking up at my reflexive barb.
"Puhaha!! Sis! It's not horniness—I'm crazy for fate!"
"...Fate?"
"Yeah! Fate...!!"
He stood with the world's most serious face, locking eyes with me.
"They say all human emotions and worldly shit are just chemical reactions... But I believe something bigger kept me, Domino, and Omen alive. Look— the day we finally crush those Painkiller fucks arrives, and by chance I run into you yesterday, and by chance we end up on this job together...?"
"......"
A being like me, living off body electrical signals, had no retort to denying worldly truths. But his belief—different from cult crap—was something I'd felt recently too.
...Hell, if something beyond science didn't exist, how the fuck am I even alive in this future world?
"So... Ivory sis!"
"...What?"
Horatio dropped to one knee like it was nothing and held out his hand.
"Please marry this Daredevil Horatio...!!"
Crackle—zzzt!!
"Get the fuck out!!"
I grabbed his outstretched hand—not with signal bursts or hacks, but pure raw strength—and zapped the pervert of the century. He had some anti-electric prep, grinning dopily through the shock, mumbling how my hand was soft yet tingly. I kicked the cabbage hard.
The guy who shrugged off the broker's full-power flailing whined at my beating... Infuriating.
This weak violence wouldn't sever this weird bond, it seemed.
"...Um, sorry... I'm here to clean the room, but if you're in the middle of that kind of play, I'll come back later..."
"Oh...! Hotel girl, me and sis are in the middle of some hot times right now, so hold off on cleaning!"
"?! It's a misunderstanding!! Get this trash outta here quick!"
Caught red-handed in something impossible to explain to staff, I shoved Horatio aside and bolted to my room.
...Six hours till mission start. More than enough time to memorize the fine print and rules.