Bell stepped out from her bathroom, damp and steamed from a refreshing hot shower. She sauntered to the living room couch, fumbling with a hair tie. She fell on top of the couch with a rough thud, eliciting a weary sigh from Bell. It had been another busy day of game sales and even after that lunch break with Cog, she still felt tired to her bones. Or maybe it was because of that lunch break that she felt lethargic.
The day's rush hour had long subsided, the tide of customers mostly having returned home, likely busy enjoying their newest merchandise or whatever. Cog had long gone back to her home, so Bell was back to being alone. The absence of loud chatter had made things real quiet, but without Cog around to fill the mood with her immaturity and childish antics, the silence was quite… empty.
Well, whatever. It was evening, and Bell had a moment to rest before another day of the same hustling and bustling would begin and Cog would come back to hang out like normal. Reaching to the table, which was still cluttered with trash, Bell dug out the remote and turned on the TV, being greeted to a news channel and whatever newsworthy was going on.
"... and in the past several hours, the number of reported incidents between the Four Squares Union and the Weiss Guild has severely increased. Vandalism and social attacks have been common occurrences, with both sides seemingly taking liberal potshots at each other throughout the PC mainland."
Bell rolled her eyes as she sank further into the cushion which reflected her overall interest. 'What does the news think we've been doing, living under a rock? Take two opposing ideologies and of course stuff like that'll happen.'
The newscast continued. "With the Festivities right about to begin, piracy seems to be on the rise! Many gamers, desperate for entertainment but short on cash and options, appear to be turning to piracy to obtain their games. Already indie developers - already at the mercy of existing entertainment juggernauts - are competing fiercely with those who sell have the qualms to undersell and engage in illegal distribution."
Bell's shoulders slumped as she sighed. 'Dammit. Not again… I don't want to deal with any more video game pirates that somehow have immense resources, hundreds of henchmen, and secret bases all over the place! Oh, I so want to get off Mr. Pirate's Wild Ride.'
"... With little information to go on about the resurgence of video game pirates, experts believe that the so-called 'Bumble Club' is a likely culprit."
Upon hearing the name of the underground group that she once stumbled upon, Bell suddenly sat up, eyes and ears open.
"... the identities of the video game pirates have yet to be identified which leaves scant information, but based on what is known, law officials point to the Bumble Club, the enigmatic distributor of games and gaming merchandise. Known for their secrecy and selling items at prices independent from those of established stores, those characteristics lead officials to believe that they are behind the rise of video game piracy. More news after these commercials."
Bell continued staring at the TV, but no words from it reached her ears. She blinked in confusion at what she heard, staring blankly as she tried to interpret the news she just heard. 'The Bumble Club… being video game pirates? That's not how I'd see them. Or at least, from what little I know of them from that one time I met them.' Vague memories of the previous adventure filtered in Bell's mind as she reminisced. That time she and Cog first encountered video game pirates in the form of rats, encountering the stranger Nitroplus who helped them out, then a member of the Bumble Club who appeared out of nowhere to help them escape the scene. After sharing what they knew, they were let go.
'Yeah… What were their names again? Code names, but what were they? J-something.' Bell frowned as she mentally reviewed what she knew of the organization. Secretive and suspicious as they were, she didn't think of them as criminals. Heck, she never personally saw them as a genuine competitor; undersell and make bargains they may but their very nature wouldn't bring too many customers.
No… something about that statement wasn't right. Bell remembered the two particular members of the Bumble Club from last time. There's just no way they could be responsible for outright crime unless there was a major leadership change in the organization and they changed gears. Or…
"Ugh. I'm probably just thinking too much into this..." Bell quietly muttered, slowly rising from the couch. She stepped over to the kitchen, thinking of getting a quick drink until her eyes drifted to the clock.
"9 o'clock already?" Bell groaned as she quickly but grudgingly changed course and started heading down the stairs. The steady sounds of her feet meeting the steps slightly echoes down the staircase, and as Bell reached the ground floor, it was the only sound that was being made. Stepping inside her store, the establishment was about as quiet as a whisper. Taking a quick glance around the store, Bell immediately spotted Adjunct silently and dutifully restocking merchandise, moving about thanks to the ceiling rails from which it hung from.
'Oh, so it's just it - ' No, not quite. Glancing around again, Bell spotted a few scattering of customers loitering around her store, some of whom Bell could only see the tops of their head from behind the aisles.
'Huh. Some real late stragglers.' The few people she saw simply browsed the items, searching through them as if to find something and occasionally examining them. Bell could barely see their faces which made her think they were that invested in their shopping, but for all their browsing they seemingly couldn't commit to a purchase. Barely a whisper could be heard in the entire place.
Whatever. It was nearing time. Bell cleared her throat, hoping to catch everyone's attention while being hushed at the same time; Bell hated breaking the ice. "Uh, hey. Store'll be closing real soon, so better make up your mind now or leave. I need to lock the place up for the night."
The only major reaction came from Adjunct who swung around to acknowledge Bell's announcement a stare from its single eye. "Very well. If you had coded into me it would certainly be executed. But of course, I shall take my time doing so. Today's stock has depleted faster than our customers-slash-victims' bank accounts. An extra pair of hands would certainly expedite my current task, but feel free to stand idly by. It's not like I am explicitly in need of assistance."
"Yeah, yeah. I get the idea..." Bell walked past Adjunct and towards the back room. Unlocking the door, she stepped inside and lifted a cardboard box out of many stacked by the door. Bell shuffled the bulk to one of the many near-empty aisles whose contents now consisted of empty space. Setting the box down, Bell went to work sorting out the items.
One of the late-night customers stood idly nearby where Bell was, his dark hoodie obscuring his face. Out of the corner of her vision, Bell had a strange feeling about him. Something about the way he was standing there just browsing… or looking like he's browsing. Another customer - also wearing a hood - quietly walked up to his side and despite there being two of them, there was barely a hush between them.
A soft shuffling sound from the other side made Bell notice another pair of awfully silent guests approaching the aisle from opposite end.
Bell started having a very bad feeling about this.
Bell glanced to the other side and suddenly found herself staring down a muzzle, courtesy of the a customer who was now right in front of her. "Don't move. This is a stick-up!" a muffled young voice hissed out. Glancing up, Bell finally had a good view of the "customer" and saw his actual face obscured by a hastily-applied handkerchief. Turning, Bell saw that she was surrounded by other "customers" whose identities were also masked.
"Get up!" the same man hissed, tossing in a small light kick for good measure. Grumbling, Bell complied under the glare of the robber's gun. At the same man's hushed command, one of his accomplices quickly snatched up the box of goodies while another messily gathered up the merchandise.
"Get the goodies loaded up, hurry!" The robber, presumably the one calling the shots, gently prodded Bell with his gun. "Git going!"
Despite the danger she found herself in, Bell nonchalantly did as she was told as the rest escorted right behind her, the metal rod frequently prodding her in the back as she walked down the aisle. "Suuuure. Are you interested in a particular product that you need help finding?"
Once clear of the aisle, a forceful hand shoved Bell in another direction to head. "Shaddup!"
"Bell?" Adjunct's white head poked around the aisle ahead. "Audio receptors seem to indicate a very uncharacteristic amount of… Oh."
"Yeah, thought so!" taunted the lead robber as he wiggled his gun at Adjunct. "You and the lady stand right where we can see ya!" More robbers and their brandished weapons suddenly appeared behind Adjunct. Surrounded, Bell and Adjunct were herded to a corner as the robbers went to work. With two of their own guarding the hostages, the rest scattered throughout the store, stuffing what merchandise remained in their personal bags or even their pockets. One of the robbers climbed over the front counter to investigate the register.
He rattled the register, trying to force it open but to no avail against the lock. Grunting, he looked towards the leader. "Hey, boss! This crummy thing won't open - I think it's locked!"
"Well, yeah that's because it is," Bell replied out loud. All eyes swung in her direction. Despite the circumstances, there was no tinge of fear or concern in Bell, instead there being a cool, if not seemingly bored, look on her face as she stood where she was hands in her pockets.
The entire theft paused as the lead robber marched over to Bell. Shoving past two of his own, he grabbed Bell by the collar of her shirt, bringing himself face-to-face with her. "Lady, you got 10 seconds to tell us how to open that cash register or else -"
"Yeah yeah, or else someone's gonna get hurt," Bell finished dismissively, which only seemed to rile up the crook further. Frankly, Bell was more annoyed by the lack of personal space being respected (since she could smell his breath; could probably use some mouthwash...) and the poor timing (being late at night and when she should be closing up shop).
Oh, and the fact that her store was being robbed and her being held at gunpoint - that too.
The gruff pair of hands tightened their grip. "Well?! What's the code -"
"It's not a code," interrupted Bell, irked by how she was being shook. "That's a little too obvious. What you need to look for is a button. It should be near the very bottom of the counter, beneath the register."
The lead robber's enmity instantly evaporated as his head spun to his accomplice who had tried to break into the cash register with an expectant look. Having caught wind of the information, he bent low scouring for the button Bell mentioned, searching lower and lower until he found a peculiar protrusion underneath the furniture.
"Uhhh, I think I found it!"
"Yep. That'll open up not just the cash register but also a hidden vault where I keep my savings," Bell added, bored. "If you think about it, you're probably a lot better off making off with the credits than with stolen merchandise."
Upon hearing this, the other bandits began whispering amongst themselves, their tones hushed but brimming with anticipation; some even went so far as to toss out looted items. But despite the promises, the leader shot Bell a dirty look. "You best not be pulling our legs here, 'cuz otherwise -"
*Click!*
His eyes - and everyone else's - darted back to the register section as his companion went for the hidden button. But as he leapt up to anticipate his reward, there instead was a clunking sound above his head. Looking up, he was instead rewarded with the sight of a gaping barrel - courtesy of a ceiling-mounted turret gun.
"... WHAT THE -"
The robber's train of thought didn't go far as a barrage pelted him, his words and disbelief replaced with hysterical squeals. As if on cue, identical contraptions popped from various parts of the ceiling, swiftly noticing and targeting the robbers beneath them with mechanical efficiency.
The leader's eyes were as wide as dinner plates as he realized he was played. He spun back to Bell, vengeance clouding his mind. "Oh, you SON OF A -"
*Clang!* Without another word, his face suddenly met earth hard. Surprised to see his leader suddenly on the ground, another robber mimicked his boss's action of turning to Bell but just like him, fell victim to a hard whack of a crowbar now in Bell's hands. From the vestiges of his conscious mind, the sight of the now-armed Bell gave the crook leader a sudden epiphany.
The inside of The Pipe Dream became tumultuous, the sounds of yelps, surprise, and mechanical whirrs of moving mechanical parts and cannonfire as the would-be robbers were pelt by a hail of stinging rubber rounds. Panicked, the intruders stumbled blindly, tripping over their own feet or each other in a desperate attempt to flee the scene. One of the underling robbers bold enough to brave the barrage and hold a coherent thought attempted to retaliate as he fumbled for his concealed bat.
Risking a peek upward, he found the nearest of the ceiling turrets preoccupied and braced to strike until a swift, sharp impact swept his feet off the ground. Without a second to recover, another strike, more impactful than the last, sent him tumbling across the aisle.
Bell stepped gingerly over her own spilled merchandise as she adjusted the grip on her crowbar. The once-audacious crook found his mettle completely evaporated as the bat slipped from his hands as he tried to crawl away in vain hope that the defense wouldn't notice him. A dark flowing shape appeared in the fringes of Bell's vision: another one of the robbers making a mad attempt to fight back. He dashed towards Bell, clenched fists raised until a white blur sideswiped him, the sound of sliding metal being the only forewarning as he flew out through the front entrance like a ragdoll.
"Speedy thing goes in, speedy thing goes out," quipped Adjunct as it reached low and picked up one of the robber's discarded bludgeons and bent it like rubber before tossing it away to face the rest. By now, everyone was trying to make a mad dash through the door to escape, to flee from the stinging rubber pellets. Death was certainly not a risk, but the sharp sensations of rapid-fire pellets was enough to put the robbers in risk of the second worst thing.
They all flooded out through the door, pushing and shoving anything to expedite their way out: the doorframe, the door, the merchandise stands, or even each other. Screeching and hollering, those who made it out into the dark night outdoors scrambled to their getaway truck. One of the robbers made it to the truck last, but not before sneaking one last look behind him to see Bell right by the store entrance.
The crook leader pointed at Bell accusingly and opened his mouth, but no words could come to mind other than unintelligible insults and jeering as the truth became evident to his eyes - the absurd security measure, the way she fought... He would have continued trying to think of something meaningful to hurl at Bell if it weren't for the aforementioned Dev tossing out a bulky metal box out of thin air. Upon hitting the ground, the sides of the box popped open and in its place a series of gears and machinery swirled into shape, whirring and clanking into shape.
At the bottom was a wide flat pedestal that held up everything above via invisible force that bound the device together. The mass that served as the "head" morphed from a single box-like structure into two, each with thick rotary barrels that quickly sprouted from them. And to finalize the transformation, the back end of the two arm-like structures popped up to reveal nestling rockets within. The end product - Bell's crimson-plated turret - resulted in it being bigger than the box it came from in the first place.
At this sight, the bandit leader finally lost the last reserves of his courage and finally scurried onto the back of the truck which promptly sped away at full speed, leaving only the sounds of squealing tires, tire marks, and Bell as the only evidence that anything ever happened in the late night.
As she watched the truck disappear into the dark nothingness, Bell could only sigh. Her shoulders loosened knowing that the scuffle was over, but she didn't feel relaxed. "Argh… Why of all times did something like that have to happen?" Bell sighed. With a light tap of her foot her sentry immediately folded back on itself into nothingness, and without further ado turned and headed back inside her store.
Stepping back into inside, Bell could only survey at the mess: game boxes scattered to and fro across the ground, light structural damage, and knowledge of today's events. Adjunct was already hard at work sweeping up the spilled merchandise. The ceiling turrets still remained, aimlessly scanning the interior for targets that Bell hoped weren't coming back. She didn't care if they were regular customers in disguise - anyone foolish enough to try to rob from a Dev wasn't worth it.
Bell sighed deeply. Moments like this were possible (and of course Bell made suitable precaution) but that didn't mean they needed to happen!
'Ugh. Just look at the mess! This'll take me at least an hour to put everything back together!' Bell silently fumed as she glanced around again, trying to come to a decision. 'Aw screw it. Guess I can do some of it today, then finish it tomorrow before rush hour.' Bell took a step only for her foot to unexpectedly step on something. Looking down, she saw that it was a game box, its plastic case and wrapping dented and scratched, marring its once fresh quality. Stopping to crouch down, Bell could see other games scattered across the floor sharing the similar sorry condition.
Picking one up, Bell couldn't help but feel sorry for it - to see something that was supposed to bring joy to have its exterior tarnished, its value brought down to something only a little above trash. Bell examined the cover front and back; she could probably still sell it, but she doubt its damaged state would warrant a high a value as it would.
She thought back to the entire scene, rewinding the series of events in her head. A group of young people willing to commit an ambitious plan such as this, to steal games in such a time like this. Even if it was at night with minimal witnesses, such a direct scheme to steal games was absurd with who knows how many game stores - her's included - selling their products at a low price. A period in which gaming was celebrated and a bunch of people choose now to rob one.
Bell could only shake her head at the illogical circumstances. 'Just what did they plan to do with all the games they would've stolen? I'm already selling a good chunk of them dirt cheap. Unless they plan to -'
Then she stopped. As quickly as she turned down the thought, the conclusion jumped on its own from one to another.
"With the Festivities right about to begin, piracy seems to be on the rise! Many gamers, desperate for entertainment but short on cash and options, appear to be turning to piracy to obtain their games."
"... the identities of the video game pirates have yet to be identified which leaves scant information..."
"... With little information to go on about the resurgence of video game pirates, experts believe that the so-called 'Bumble Club' is a likely culprit."
With the recent news repeating in her recent memory, Bell retreated into deep thought. There was no way it was a coincidence: crime and video game piracy are definitely around. The group of robbers making their move in her store was proof of that: they were originally here for the games, hoping that their numbers and timing would suffice against any ordinary shop owner (fortunately, she was no ordinary shop owner).
But if they were part of the rising movement, then there was no way that the Bumble Club could be involved. Those robbers were just run-of-the-mill burglars; there was no way they were on the same level as the more secretive but affable Bumble Club (for starters, the ones she fought off were too idiotic).
Bell stood up. "Adjunct, you mind taking care of all of this? I'd pitch in a bit, but I've got busy plans tomorrow."
Her robotic assistant raised a curious stare at Bell as she sauntered to the stairways without a backward glance. Bell turned the corner and disappeared from view, leaving behind Adjunct alone with the mess: the floor sprinkled with spilled items, smears, and carpeted by loose rubber projectiles; the narrow displays that once stood organized now had some out of alignment or had been knocked over; the handful of turret guns hanging from the ceiling still remained as their methodical sweeps ruined any further semblance that this was a store.
"... Of course, I shall see to carefully and diligently sweeping up the multitudes of misplaced items, rearrange the store furniture, withdraw the defense mechanism that you insisted would suffice despite my recommendations of installing more compelling deterrents such as neurotoxin generators, and last but not least, lock the front entrance and turn off the lights."
Adjunct began her long task as it lowered down to grab the dozens and dozens of merchandise, a process not helped by the fact its arms weren't quite suited to carrying anymore than what it could hold with its own two hands.
"But then again, you never explicitly mentioned when the tasks should be finished..."
Upstairs, Bell paced about in her bedroom, thoughts and plans clouding any weariness she once had. Normally she'd be asleep, but something else kept her occupied.
'There's no way that those would-be pirates were related to the Bumble Club,' Bell repeated. 'But that doesn't take away the fact that there's someone out there pirating games. And if this is going to be anything like last time...' Bell shuddered as memories resurfaced. '... It'll be the Bumble Club who'll know what's up. If I remember, having tabs on secretive stuff would be up in their alley; takes one to know one after all. And being falsely accused for being the perpetrators will certainly give them motive for getting to the bottom of this.
'Normally… I'd rather stay out of this. Knowing how things go, a simple "investigation" will turn into a wild-goose chase where I get more than what I bargained. And then I'll question just what the hell I was thinking. But as much as I'd like to remain by the sidelines, I just had people try to rob my store and hold me at gunpoint! I'd would certainly like to get my hands on whoever's responsible!'
Bell sighed as she flopped on her bedsheets. '... I'll make sure to call Cog tomorrow. I'll see if I can find the Bumble Club and get some answers. Hopefully this doesn't quickly get out of hand (probably already jinxed myself by saying that)...'
As sleep finally began to creep in, Bell sighed again as she wrapped the blankets around her, recent events being summarized in her head. '... Why does it look like the world's trying to come to an end?'
Halfway on the other side of the dimension, the world was indeed trying to come to an end.
The slow but imminent destruction of the world she despised was now in full motion. The next step of her plot had already been enacted and the results were immediate - exhilarating. She watched with amusement as the next stage of her plan played out.
It had only been a few days, but what she saw pleased her. She had always envisioned what a world without the shackles of goddesses would look like, to see what it would be like if they never existed. And now those particular goddesses were stumbling about, blind in the world they recognized but in a world that did not recognize them.
She watched as the CPU of Planeptune, once cherished and loved in spite of her flaws, be neglected in favor of a miser who, despite exuding passion and spirit, hid a meek and cowardly heart.
She watched as the CPU of Lastation, the pride and heart of her nation, be hounded like a dog by the very nation she helped build and lead, its very soul - like its new leader - twisted for nefarious means.
She watched as the CPU of Lowee, who once called her country home, discovered it to now be a foreign world with no one being who they truly said they were...
She watched as the CPU of Leanbox, for all her grace and elegance, be reduced to a commoner under the reign of one so self-serving she would sacrifice the nation and its people for her own sake…
The goddesses - all of them - predictably trying to deduce the truth. The truth that she herself had experienced, and one that they would now experience themselves. Or at least, a mere taste. Have the goddesses learn their place before their world would be drowned in chaos.
Speaking of which…
Her pawns… The so-called AffimaX. Minions such as them had their uses. But oh they're so gullible and thoughtless. No doubt they'd keep the CPUs preoccupied while they claim her prize. It was a key part of her scheme, it was essential that she get her hands on it.
And if - not when - she did, her victory will not be denied.
