I'm interested in finding out what Adam will become now that he has lost everything. Who will he trust? What does he want now? Will we ever see him again?
...
"Argh!" A mercenary screamed in pain as his arm was chopped off. He dropped one of his dual swords on the ground. He was kicked against the wall by Verdant Viridis.
"Don't feel bad. It was nothing personal." Verdant explained. Verdant plugged his scroll into a terminal, and it began downloading information.
"Besides, in your line of business, a missing limb is an easy way out." Dr. Rifleman added. "Have you heard about Gunmetal Industries Eye-for-an-eye Program?" The man continued screaming in pain.
"That didn't sound like a yes." Verdant noted, his eyes focused on the download.
"They'll give you your arm back, better than ever." Dr. Rifleman sounded as if she were being paid to advertise.
"Of course, you'll be contractually forced to waste your prime days working security for them." Verdant reminded. He unplugged his scroll as the download completed. "But it's still a better retirement plan than dying."
...
"How many weapons does this guy need?" Bismuth asked, looking at the knives and disks confiscated from inside Damascus's suit.
"Weren't you the one that carried an arsenal of Gunmetal Industries latest weapons? Why are you using a hammer?" Damascus asked. Damascus was handcuffed and watched closely by several guards.
"It's a wrench!" Bismuth repeated. "A tool of justice for dealing with people like you."
"You're a tool." Damascus countered. "You just fix other people's problems without thinking for yourself."
"I think you deserve to die, but that's not for me to decide." Bismuth remarked.
"What are you angry about?" Damascus asked.
"You wouldn't remember. All you care about is yourself." Bismuth replied. He walked away while Damascus was escorted toward the prison cells.
"It's because I know what I'm worth!" Damascus shouted back.
...
"Alright, they're starting the next fight. It's the girl with the guns scythes and her kicking friend against the minigun shopper and the big guy with the big sword." The man in the blue suit who goes by the name "Poole" runs vaguely legitimate gambling for the Vytal Tournament fights. He also covers smaller regional tournaments and may or may not also be covering illegal underground tournaments on the side to make some extra money. Because the fights are random from the viewers perspective, bets need to be placed immediately before the fights begin. Poole is terrible with remembering names, and instead relies on nicknames he creates for the fighters.
"My money's on the Haven this time." Acid Bog spoke, as he placed Lien on the table.
"You really think those rookies are going to take down bigger and more experienced fighters? Keep dreaming, Bog." Choppa shouted, as he placed down an equal amout of Lien. Choppa was an old rival of Bog.
"Size and experience isn't everything." Bog replied.
"You're one to talk." Poole commented, as he moved the Lien into two separate boxes. Poole's voice had an accent that distinguished him from the others in the room.
"You calling me fat, little guy with the names?" Bog imitated Poole as he spoke.
"I'm just saying you're way past your prime." Poole answered.
"Well, I can still take you." Bog reminded, switching to his previous voice.
"I want to change my bet." Choppa said, as he continued watching the tournament.
...
Indigo and Rusty both worked on Shadow Hawk, a stolen Eclipse Gunship equipped with a stolen Gunmetal Industries cloaking device.
"I heard Grey might be out in time to see the final rounds." Indigo spoke.
"He probably hasn't been missing much from the hospital." Rusty replied.
An angry Viridian approached them. "Grey's helping the same person that sent Onyx after me." Viridian explained.
"What? Why would he do that?" Indigo questioned.
"I don't know. But I know I can't trust him." Viridian answered.
"That doesn't make him untrustworthy. He could be like Rhodes or my sister." Rusty noted.
"How do we know trusting them was a good idea. I kept questioning myself and now I know I might have been better off if I hadn't!" Viridian ranted. Indigo and Rusty stepped back.
"You can't see the future. You don't know everything. You couldn't have known what to do." Indigo answered.
"Right now, I wish I could." Viridian said.
"Well, no one can. We just know what we could have done to prevent it, and hope it stops us from repeating our mistakes." Rusty replied.
...
"Rifleman is probably going to go somewhere that allows her to stay away from us and observe the Vytal Tournament." Silicon concluded.
"I have my people looking around Vale. We have eyes in Amity Coliseum and around Vale and Beacon. She can't get inside without the, noticing." Camo responded.
"Unless she slips past them undetected. We can't do much to spot her in the civilian populace, and even if we did, we'd have trouble engaging her without an incident." Light noted.
"And General Ironwood isn't authorizing your search anymore. He might order his men to send Rifleman to him first. And even if we find Rifleman before the General does, we can't guarantee the he'll allow us to confront her." Anna added.
"I didn't ask them to engage. Just inform me. It's the bets chance we have at finding her at all. And because it's dependent on their individual choices, Rifleman won't be bale to predict what they'll do because we don't know." Camo explained. Rifleman's semblance is less reliable with wide ranged probabilities than individual probabilities.
"Still, we're taking a gamble that might not pay off." Macaw reminded. "I don't like it."
...
"And with an amazing upset, Emerald and Mercury are victorious!"
"Sorry, but you lost this time." Bog said. Poole collected the money from the losing bets, so they would be placed into the prize on the final bet. The winners Lien was returned by Poole. Poole may not remember names, but he's never handed any more or less Lien than they should have recieved.
"How have you won evey bet you placed today?" Choppa asked.
"Not just today. The streaks been going since yesterday." Poole whispered.
"I know my fighters, man." Bog replied.
"Is it too late to join in on the betting?" Dr. Rifleman asked, as she approached their counter.