The streets of Snowdin hummed with the sounds of a hundred vehicles. Sans looked with no small amount of amusement as dozens of vehicles drove around him with their 'drivers' completely unaware what was going on around them. Some were on their commlinks while others were sleeping at the wheel. At least one, he swore, was just randomly throwing ice cubes out of his window.
Getting to laugh at the people who relied on the NavGrid to get them everywhere wasn't the only advantage to manual driving, of course. More useful was the fact that, unbound to the automated driver, Sans was free to zip around, weaving in and out of traffic, overtaking everyone on the road, and not a single one of them would notice.
But driving through Snowdin wasn't all fun and games. Without the distraction of a good commlink game or an even better nap, Sans could see the kind of things that cities like this ended up with. Looking up would net you the sight of a layer of smog through which the snow fell, the pollution having turned it a sickly-grey. Apparently, no one thought to consider that these things kind of things happen when you burn gasoline in a damn cave. The smog was lit from below by a seemingly infinite number of lights, advertising low rent apartments, local eateries, and, of course, the latest products from each of the Underground's Megacorps. But it wasn't those things that bothered Sans the most.
It was the people. It was the monsters that you saw on almost every street corner. It was the poor folks without the good fortune to have some cushy corporate paycheck waiting for them when they got home, or even a home to return to in the first place. These were the people who would sink into a self-perpetuating pit of despair, too broken by life itself to be able to fix their situation, losing their minds to whatever vice they could find to distract from the horrors of their predicament. Sans felt a twinge of fear in his stomach. One wrong job and this was where he and Papyrus would end up.
Sans swallowed hard. Best not to think of it, he thought to himself as he continued down the road, trying his best to focus on the drive.
Grillby's Bar was easy to spot. It wasn't the large neon sign that said "Grillby's" across the front that did that, especially when almost every other building had a sign twice as big and three times as flashy. It wasn't even the giant hamster with the green Mohawk and a leather jacket out front, checking people's commlinks as they walked in. No, it was the fact that Grillby's was the last single story building in all of Snowdin.
Sans propped his Thundersnail against the next-door building before walking over to the hamster in question.
"Mornin', Sans," the hamster said, nodding in greeting.
"Morning," Sans replied, giving a small wave. "How's the guarding biz?"
"Slightly more complicated than last week," the hamster retorted. "Grillbz is getting more adamant about checking ID."
"You let those two slime kids with the fake mustache in again, didn't you?" Sans mockingly inquired.
"I swear, they looked 18 to me," the hamster shouted in an effort to justify himself. "Anyways, now I gotta check the ID of everybody who comes in."
"Well then, it's good I ain't got no body," Sans joked as he gave another small wave and headed for the door, only for his wave to be stopped by a sudden iron grip.
Sans' normally lackadaisical look of amusement dropped in surprise a he felt the hamster's vice-like grip around his wrist. Looking at the hand, he could see it; cybernetics. It was mechanical, with servos and gears grinding away, giving no small indication that he wasn't going anywhere.
"When I said I need to check everybody's ID, that includes you."
Sans stared in shock for a moment, only to immediately follow it up with his trademark wide grin. "Hey, no need to get antsy. I got in on my commlink right here."
With his free hand, he reached into his opposite pocket and pulled out his commlink. He pressed a few buttons until a picture of himself popped up onscreen, complete with lines of information. He then held it up. Without letting go of Sans' wrist, the hamster grabbed the commlink and began to look over it.
"... Sgt. Geraldo T.J. Ramirez?"
Sans gave a smug shrug. "Would you believe I took a military correspondence course last weekend?"
The hamster gave Sans an indignant look before releasing his wrist and handing back his commlink. "You and your brother need to start getting better fake IDs."
Sans slipped his commlink back in his pocket. "He already inside?"
The hamster motioned over his shoulder. "Yeah. Tell Mrs. Ramirez I said hi."
Sans nodded. "I'll get on that," he scoffed as he headed inside.
"Hmm... What's an eight-letter word for 'unaware of the obvious', first letter 'c', third through eighth letters 'u-e-l-e-s-s'?"
Papyrus' question was greeted with a dismissive shrug from the monster on the other side of the bar, a being of living flame wearing a spotless suit, currently embroiled in the age-old battle between bar owner and stain-at-the-bottom-of-a-glass. The stain was currently winning.
Sans wandered up to the bar, giving the occasional greeting to the various other bar divers and ne'er-do-wells that called Grillby's their watering hole of choice. He gave Papyrus a slap on the back as he hopped into his seat. "Howdy, Mrs. Ramirez. How's the home life?"
"Shhhh! Can't you see that I'm concentrating?" Papyrus hissed back as he focused on his crossword. Sans took his hint and shifted his attention to the flaming bartender.
"Hey, Grillbz. SoyChup. Chilled, if you got it."
"Are you actually planning on paying for it this time?" came a smooth, sophisticated voice, held with an undercurrent of worldliness.
Sans shrugged. "Aw, jeeze. You know I would, Grillbz, but I haven't had a decent paying job in a month."
"Do you have something you want to say to me, Sans?" Grillby responded as he turned towards the back of the bar, reaching between various bottles to grab a plastic one filled with red sauce, emblazed with the phrase "TemShop SoyChup: FOOB!"
"Depends, Grillby. Is the new job you got lined up any good?" Sans inquired, unable to disguise the slight undertone of frustration in his voice.
As the bottle of SoyChup hit the counter, Grillby looked at Sans. "Look, if you want to argue about my quality as a Fixer for you and your brother, can you do it after you meet with the client? I specifically scheduled them a half-hour after I scheduled you, and you still ended up late."
Sans unscrewed the top of the bottle before removing the plastic stopped and recapping it. "Well, well, only a half-hour late by our client's clock. I think that's a new record," Sans announced before putting the bottle to his teeth. He took a few gulps before putting the bottle down. "Everything set up in the back room?"
Grillby nodded. "Head back when you're ready."
"Well, I've got everything I need," Sans mused as he looked over his SoyChup bottle. "You ready, Papy?"
"Just a moment, Sans," Papyrus announced. "I'm looking for a seven-letter word for 'ancient writing paper'. Starts with P. Truly, this will be one of the greatest tests of the Great Papyrus' great intellect!"
"I'm sure it will, bro."
Sans and Papyrus approached the door near the back of the bar. It was a room they knew well, but things never got any less tense going in.
"So, how do we approach this?" Papyrus asked.
"Standard operating procedure?" Sans posited.
Papyrus nodded. "Alright. You sit there and drink, and I do all the talking. Got it."
Sans reached up and gave Papyrus a pat on the back. "You got this, bro. I have faith in ya."
"Of course I've got this! The Great Papyrus has got everything, and then some!" Papyrus announced as he reached forward to open the door.
As the door opened, Sans and Papyrus got a look at the meeting room that had become all too familiar to them. A single, wood table, lit by a single hanging light, was surrounded by a couple of chairs. But there was something different this time.
"Wait a minute... where's the client?"
Sans' question was answered by a sudden flash, followed by a bizarre, distorted response.
"Right here."
As their eye sockets adjusted, Sans and Papyrus got a better look. Sitting on the wall opposite them was a television screen, on which shone the image of a large figure, cloaked in darkness. The figure gestured as they spoke, their voice discordant, distorted, and clearly altered by whatever method they were communicating with.
"Please, come in, and close the door behind you."
Papyrus went in first, taking up a position at the end of the table. Sans followed behind, closing the door quietly behind them before leaning against the wall.
"Thank you. Shall we begin?"
Papyrus leaned forward, chest thrust outwards. "Yes! We shall begin our discussions on the Shadowrunning you would have I, the Great Papyrus, perform for you!"
The figure on the screen sat silent for a few moments before speaking once again, "Well, you're certainly... enthusiastic."
Papyrus crossed his arms and chuckled. He turned and whispered to Sans, "They never expect enthusiasm."
"Um... I can still hear you."
Papyrus quickly sat up straight, a nervous smile on his face. "Um... Y-yes! We are prepared to hear your job offer."
As far as they could tell, the figure nodded. "Very well. I am in need of a... package delivery."
"Package delivery?" Papyrus inquired. "I think you may have the wrong number. Do not get me wrong, the Great Papyrus is flattered that you have called us for your postal needs, but if you need the number for a post office, I can search it up on my commlink for you!"
"Forgive me; I'm not explaining this very well... the package is somewhat... special."
"Special?" Sans interjected. "What do you mean, 'special'?"
The figure sat in silence for a moment, as though choosing their words carefully. "... For starters, my superiors and I are not currently 100% knowledgeable of the package's location."
"That's... not very reassuring," Papyrus nervously stated.
The figure held up his hands, as if trying to reassure them. "D-don't get me wrong. We know where the package is. We just don't know where within where it is... that it is."
Sans rolled his eyes as he took another swig of SoyChup.
"Very well," Papyrus continued, "Where is the package located?"
"Its location is currently to the west of Snowdin. That is why we wished to hire a local team."
"I see. That makes perfect sense- Wait a moment..." Papyrus rubbed his chin as he thought for a moment. "What do you mean 'west of Snowdin'? The Great Papyrus is certain there isn't anything 'west' of Snowdin."
"My brother's right," Sans called out, motioning to the wall with his SoyChup bottle. "We've been that way before. There's just a wall that way. The Underground ain't that big."
The figure seemingly nodded. "You are correct that Snowdin terminates at the cavern wall of the Underground at its western edge. But I can assure you that the package is that way. If you accept the job, we can give you the details."
Papyrus rapped his fingers on the table. "And once we find this package, where would we be taking it?"
"That, thankfully, is the easy part, though it would take some time. My superiors require the package to be delivered directly to Neo Home."
"Oh, well that seems perfectly—NEO HOME?" Papyrus shouted in sudden surprise. "But that's on the complete opposite side of the Underground!"
The figure nodded once more. "You are correct once again. We realize the distance, which is why we wished to hire a team capable of making the trip."
Papyrus looked to Sans for a moment. Sans looked over at the screen before giving Papyrus a concerned look. With that look given, Papyrus turned back to look at the screen. "Would you mind giving my brother and me a chance to discuss this in private?"
There was a moment of silence before the figure spoke once more. "Very well. I will disengage the call. As soon as you have come to a conclusion, simply press the red button to re-establish the connection."
As he spoke, a panel on the screen opened, revealing the button, cleverly labelled "red". Then the screen went black, leaving Sans and Papyrus alone in the room together.
Papyrus turned once again to look at his brother. "So, what do you think?"
"Honestly? I don't like it," came Sans' response as he took another drink. "You don't hire a couple of Shadowrunners for a delivery run. And that's not the only thing."
"What else is there?" Papyrus asked, a look of concern painting across his boney features.
After taking another drink, Sans slammed his bottle down on the table. "Well, for starters, he wants us to go talk to a wall. But I'm more concerned with the delivery location. Neo Home."
"What's in Neo Home? I've never been there."
Sans sighed. He pulled his revolver out of his sweater, looking it over. His attention came to rest on the emblazoned rubber corporate logo on the handle: an orb between two wings with three triangles beneath them. "That, Papy, is where Dreemurr Corporation is headquartered."
Papyrus gave a look of genuine shock. "Dreemurr Corporation? The largest corporation in the entire Underground?"
"That's the one," Sans responded. "If someone in that city wanted something delivered and they weren't part of Dreemurr, they'd want to meet us outside the city. But these guys want us in. You know what that means?"
"That we can get into their building using your gun handle?"
"Not exactly," Sans said, smirking a little. "It means that our latest client has to have some deep pockets.
"Listen up, Paps, no matter what he tries, don't let him force this job on us for anything under 10,000 Nugold apiece. We aren't doing something this iffy and underdetermined without correct compensation."
Papyrus' eyes lit up with excitement. He hurriedly rushed to the screen and pressed the red button. A light ringing could be heard before the screen reactivated, showing the figure once more. Another darkened figure, slightly smaller was leaning over and speaking, but quickly pulled back as the call started once again.
"I hope your conversation was helpful."
Papyrus nodded. "My brother and I have decided we are willing to aid you in your package delivery. But as you are aware, I, the Great Papyrus, am a professional, and my professional skills shall not come cheap!"
He figure nodded in agreement once again. "Of course. My superiors and I are very interested in the package's safe delivery, and so we have prepared what we believe to be an adequate payment of... 100,000 Nugold apiece, plus expenses."
Papyrus was about to speak when he suddenly felt something spray across the side of his face. Sans, in shock, had spat his latest drink of SoyChup upside Papyrus' head.
"Sans, what are you doing?" Papyrus snapped, reaching up to wipe SoyChup from his cheek.
"Papy, did you just hear what he said?" Sans called back with stunned amazement.
"Of course I did. Our client has offered us a reasonable payment of 100,000 Nugold api—OHMYGOSH!" Papyrus shouted, the realization of what had just happened hitting him like a ton of bricks.
The figure continued, "I believe this will be satisfactory?"
"Satisfactory?" Sans exclaimed, jumping forward and putting his hands on the table, the grin on his face the widest it had been in years. "Buddy, for that, we'll grab your package, wrap it up, put a bow on it, and deliver it to ya with a musical candy gram! You've got yourself a deal!"
"Well, that's swell," the figure responded. "In that case, you shall be needing this."
The figure pressed what appeared to be a button on his desk. When he did, another panel on the screen opened up. Inside, there was a commlink.
"Take it. It contains all the information you will need to locate the package, and also has a special account set up on it. With it, you may purchase anything worth fewer than 500 Nugold. Finally, while it cannot make any outgoing calls, I can use it to securely contact you whenever it is necessary. I hope you will find it useful in your journey."
Papyrus reached out and grabbed the commlink, taking it so that he and Sans could get a better look. It was a Dreemurr brand Asriel Commlink, the most high-tech commlink on the market. Though Sans and Papyrus were loath to admit it, even with the modifications limiting its functionality, it made their Mettaton brand Glamour 3s look like children's toys in comparison.
"And with that, I believe our current business is concluded. I look forward to your results, gentlemen."
Papyrus looked back at the screen and stuck out his chest. "You have made an excellent choice in Shadowrunners, sir! We won't let you down."
"I know you won't," the figure responded before the call was terminated, leaving Sans and Papyrus alone with a new commlink, a bizarre direction, and a 100,000 Nugold carrot on a stick for each of them. There was a bizarre silence between them for a moment before Sans spoke up.
"So... do you want to tell Grillby we got a 100,000 Nugold date with a wall?"
"You have made an excellent choice in Shadowrunners, sir! We won't let you down."
A smile came across his face at the genuine enthusiasm the taller one exhibited. "I know you won't." was the last thing he said to them before he cut the call. As the feed went dead, he sighed, leaning back in his chair.
"Boss..." came a gruff female voice from the corner of his office, "you know you don't have to do these things yourself. You can always get one of the employees to do this hiring for you."
He sat up, adjusting his tie as he did so. Even sitting, he could look her right in the eyes. "No... No, I like to know each monster I have working for me. Even if it is through... illegitimate channels."
The female crossed her arms, the sounds of cybernetic gyros lost in the silence of the massive office they were in. "Alright. Whatever you say. It's not like they think you're in charge anyway, feeding them that superiors line and all. I'll go grab the doc and we'll start making our way to Snowdin."
He nodded. "Good. Contact me once you get there."
The female saluted. "Sure thing, Boss. You can count on us."
He chuckled. "I'm well aware of that. Take care of yourselves, alright?"
The female flexed her flesh and blood arm, rippling with muscle. "I got everything I need to take care of us right here!" she exclaimed, grinning in pride with sharpened teeth. With their final farewells said, she left the room.
As he sat there, alone in his office, he could feel the pangs of... something in his chest. He stood for a moment, taking a short walk across his office, stopping onto water a small a small flower garden atop one of his filing cabinets. Even this, however, didn't silence the feeling in his chest. As he walked towards a glass case, he glanced over its contents; a long, pronged weapon. From a somehow more noble age he thought to himself before returning to his seat at his desk. Sometimes, he wished he could take it up and do what was needed himself, but his position forbade him such an option. He reached out with a muscular finger and pressed a button. An image popped up of the two brothers, taken by the screen he'd had shipped to Snowdin. He could see the genuine excitement on both of their faces. He sighed, drumming his fingers on his desk.
He knew why he did this. He knew that, in the end, the benefits to monsterkind would outweigh everything.
But it never felt good putting monsters in harm's way.
