Emesex: a foreign slice of the Conderican pie, harbored in the nation's coast not so far from the capital. Though it lay within the clutches of the PC Continent's mainland, the city atmosphere proved that the other side of the world had taken root there. The exotic aesthetics and foreign sentiments of Gamindustri had assimilated alongside the familiar Conderican-style architecture: the urban buildings and structures were still utilitarian blocks but now with a bit more neon. Flat, squarish roofs and landscape stood alongside the occasional slanted stone canopies of pagodas. National blue coexisting with strange pink and purple. A brief gust even carried the faint scent of cherry blossoms.

Bell sneezed. 'I hate those things,' she complained to herself. They had stopped by another cafe (one that was more sparsely-attended this time), having parked the car along a curb. Resting with her cheek on her hand, Bell peered over to the side, where she last saw Malissa. As luck had it, they managed to find a local Four Squares Union office.

She peered over to the other side to see Cog and Schwarze seated around the table; next to them, Weaver and BJ remained in the car, undercover of the closed roof and rolled-up windows. After the last escapade, Bell couldn't blame Weaver one bit. This time they'd be more discrete so as to not make a repeat. But even if they found solace, no one seemed to be quite in the mood for a strategy meeting.

'Hrmm… Not like I can come up with anything right now...' Bell thought idly. 'I'm sure something will come up eventually.' Nearby, a TV within the cafe had been tuned in to the daily news. Seeing as to how Cog and Schwarze had their eyes glued to the screen, it was no wonder that everyone was procrastinating.

"... and in this Conderican game store at the B-Gates Plaza, we have a very special guest!" the newscaster exclaimed, notably accentuating the last part. Behind her was the game store in question, a name Bell didn't bother trying to read. But what caught her attention was the uncharacteristic gathering within the store. As she continued watching, she realized why.

"Ms. President, it is a great honor to be with you here today!" the newscaster cheerfully introduced herself to the person in question. On the grand display was admin Winifred Dowes, dressed in her casual leather jacket waiting in line. Though far from formal wear, Conderica's admin had already attracted quite the crowd by her mere presence and recognition alone.

Put on the spotlight, Dowes chuckled. "Oh, hehe. Yeah, you and me both. But enough about that! I'm just here in line to celebrate the Festivities my style!" On the TV, she hoisted the item in her hands: a boxed copy of what appeared to be some kind of flight simulator as the cash register beamed. The latest in the franchise, but the box art still couldn't escape its decade-long tradition of generic art style.

Without further ado, all could watch as the president handed the item to the cashier which was promptly checked out, wide smiles all around. Chuckling and smiling with a hearty "Peace!", Winifred strolled her way out of the store, leaving behind the trailing newscaster, a crowded store, and a giddy cashier. The scene made Bell smirk as she playfully rolled her eyes while Cog snorted in laughter; Schwarze settled for a lighthearted side-glance at the other two.

The next news program wasn't as optimistic as the first one however, as the scene transitioned to a news report, the background image denoting the current topic as something more serious. One the screen, a different newscaster began her report. "And in other news, local authorities throughout the Conderican nation have reported a noticeable up-tick in tensions between the Four Squares Union and the Weiss Guild, more so than in any year in our country's history. While such quarrels between differing ideologies should be expected, what we've seen and heard goes beyond what was experienced before: frequent vandalization of organization property, inciteful online comments, and in some rare instances outright physical altercations among opposing members. Authorities and representatives from both organizations have yet to come to a conclusion in the face of these concerning trends. More available at 6."

The news elicited a quizzical look from all who watched. But the news channel went on with its next report. "And on the topic of vandalism, there have been numerous - and increasing - reports of game stores throughout Conderica being defaced and/or robbed. The frequent victims of such incidents have been determined to be the HabCo-owned Genesis Stations, with plenty of eyewitnesses claiming that it was all the work of crooked video game pirates. The claim has been corroborated by how many of the Genesis Station-exclusive merchandise has been found to be in pirated circulation. As for who these pirates may be, the enigmatic and underground Bumble Club has been outed as a possible suspect. Investigations are still underway, however. Stay tuned for more news!"

Bell cast her eyes away with a frown. 'I guess our job here really is important for them. But where should we even begin looking…?'

Suddenly, Cog jumped up and began incessantly prodding Bell. "'Ey, Bell! Look at this look at this!"

Annoyed, Bell complied and scooted over to Cog to see what the hell she wanted to show her on her phone. But when she did, the irritation instantly melted into pleasure. Contained within the small screen was a news article, the title boldly declared "'Devilord: Immortal'? More Like 'Devilord: Dead on Arrival"!

Having already passed the header, Bell skimmed through the article and already, she was already grinning with satisfaction. Right next to her, Cog was doing the same as they read the tabloid article.

It was only a couple days ago that the announcement reached the eyes, ears, and minds of many throughout the PC Continent, yet it took only a single stroke for those news to become one of the worst performance ever seen in the Festivities! The unforeseen yet anticipated new installment in the Devilord franchise, one of the many famed brainchilds of our Dev Blau, was recently unveiled with naught but a teaser. Blau's expansive and loyal fanbase have eagerly awaited further development set to be revealed in the upcoming BlueCon as the main event; speculation has run amok with what the new installment would bring; hope and optimism ran high as fans waited for "Devilord: Immortal" with anticipation.

So naturally, something just had to go wrong. Blau - one of the distinguished elite goddesses of our land - has, in her infinite wisdom, went above and beyond by turning excitement into scathing controversy. Downgraded gameplay, watered-down mechanics, radically altered style, and comments of a regressed art direction for those who care for such things!

The cherry on top of this spectacle was during the presentation itself: when news broke out that the upcoming title demanded a new monthly subscription, one at a higher rate than before, fans were at an uproar, with one upstanding individual demanding whether the whole farce was "an out-of-season April Fools joke."

All in all, "Devilord: Immortal" looks to have floundered and sank before it could even set sail. Only time may tell whether the whole project could be salvaged, but as far as her many once-fans are concerned, it is a lost endeavor even for Blau, the Dev who, with her charm and power, had just gracefully turned excitement and hype into disappointment.

Bell didn't need to continue reading, as she was chortling too much from what she read. To think that the smug, stuck-up, vain basement-dwelling excuse of a goddess would be struck with such misfortune brought (admittedly) a sense of schadenfreude in her.

'Oh, Blau will be feeling that for all of next week.' Glancing to her side, Bell saw similar sentiment shared within Cog, her whole backside shaking like jubilant jumping beans.

With her brief moment of comedy now burnt up, Bell deflated back to being dreary back at the task of finding those pirates. Across from her, Schwarze gazed at Bell and Cog with inquisitive eyes, confused and wondering what it was that made the pair giggle like that. Yet, the sight of those two made her smile; it was something she didn't expect to see from the two. Quietly slipping a small notebook from her longcoat, Schwarze clicked a pen into action and began. Ideas swirled in her mind as she scribbled them on paper. She had known how close Bell and Cog were despite their differing personalities, and seeing them share a moment made Schwarze think…

How close were they? The pen scribbled.
How closer could they be? The pen scribbled even more.
Schwarze swiftly slipped her notebook away before the two could even notice, her ideas fresh and now preserved. 'Hm, doesn't Cog always hang out with Bell at her place?' Schwarze pondered. 'I now wonder what goes on in there...'

Unbeknownst to her, Weaver had already seen it all as she sat idly in her car. Watching the red-haired Prospective Dev hastily but secretively stash away her notes only brought a smug smile on her face. Schwarze was in no way an established writer (or at least, a more established writer) but Weaver recognized the telltale signs. But back then, she didn't expect the kind of stuff she wrote about. 'And I wonder what goes on in your head, Schwarze.'

Movement caught Weaver's eyes and to her bewilderment, saw Malissa approaching them. She had thought that she would be grateful to be back with her organization (which was why they dropped her off at a nearby office in the first place), so why was she approaching them?

By now, Malissa's presence had drawn all Devs' eyes as they too wondered the same thing. Seeing that she was now the center of attention, Malissa froze with a nervous expression. Her gaze strayed far from the other's. "E-eh… Errr… Um, s-so..."

Bell sighed impatiently. "Look, we don't bite (unless you're BJ) and there's no reason for you to come back to us unless you have something in mind. So just tell us what it is."

"U-um, of course!" Gripping the hem of her new waistcoat, Malissa took a breath and let the cat out of the bag, all eyes and ears at attention.

"I, uh, talked to the Four Squares Union staff and once I mentioned the stuff about the, um, game pirates, most of them all told me of a suspicious-looking place some blocks away, in a place that barely anyone or any law goes to. I-it was mainly a rumor, but I figured it could be a solid lead."

Though intrigued, Bell remained skeptical. "That's quite the rumor, assuming it is true."

"Um, yes!" Malissa replied, shifting nervously where she stood. "B-but they're certain that's where they could be. A-and besides, if the game pirates and this Kazue person are there, then this is your chance. I-in fact, if this goes well, I'll make sure you all get rewarded!"

The Devs exchanged looks, their interest piqued. Thoughts of the information's validity lingered, but gave way the moment Bell got up from her seat. "Well, what the hell. Let's get this over with."

As they began piling into Weaver's car, its engine already purring back into action, Malissa followed suit. "U-um, if you don't mind, I'd like to come along."

Weaver and Bell looked at her with raised eyebrows. "You sure about that?"

"W-well, the Four Squares Union wouldn't be able to recognize your efforts if one of their own isn't around to vouch for you."

Bell shrugged her shoulders without a word. Not much to say to that. Without wasting another second, Weaver's convertible began speeding away. From her seat, a thought crossed Bell's mind.

'Guess that takes care of me having to think of something.'

"Devilord: Immortal?" More Like "Devilord: Dead on Arrival"!

Those bold words reflected on her eyes and her spectacles as she grinned estaticly. Although only a day had passed, the view count was already on the rapid ascent with barely any sign of faltering. More and more drawn to her article like bees to honey.

Who knew exaggerations spoke more than simple truths?

Of course, the recent BlueCon was a fiasco, the unveiling was met with polarizing reception. But as far as anyone (especially Blau herself) was concerned, the whole thing was already a failure. So why not make that more abundant? It's not like the whole crowd that attended were in an uproar, but with the vocal minority was there a difference? Whether it was one vocal naysayer or a hundred, the common reader wouldn't tell the difference - especially if they can't care enough to disseminate the truth from mistruths.

But as far as Kotagon was concerned, she wasn't reporting any lies. She was simply writing about things as she saw interpreted them. It was up to the readers to believe her and her words.

She took another sip from her mug, taking in the rich flavor of hot cocoa. Oh the hot chocolatey goodness.

But as much as it brought a warm fuzzy feeling within her, there was still much to do. Today's news was now ancient news so Kotagon was back on the hunt for another scoop. Another juicy lure that she could spin into a big catch of the day.

She wouldn't have long to search.

A crack of light.

Sharp rapping sound of cardboard rubbing against cardboard was made as the light widened to unearth the treasure inside. The contents met a pair of eyes before a pair of hands flashed in to seize the contents. As quick as they came, the hands yanked the prize out from its container to unveil the treasure, etched onto its surface the holy expression:

OPPAI
~~Be green with envy~~

"Heh," the champion said to herself before racing to a nearby mirror, its scratched surface reflecting the image of a delinquent, the dark purple hair short but unkempt, kept in check by the knit-cap she always wore although some strands were disobedient, poking over one of her eyes. Holding it in front of her, she could see that the item was a good fit; the lively green coloration admittedly clashed with her dark-tinted hoodie jacket, but that was what casual wear was for. Casual, as in no one would be around to see it. Like undergarments. She had no intention of wearing something like this out in the open, not for the ordinary world at large to see. Especially not to her own gang; Amber knows what it'll do to her reputation.

"... What the hell...?"

She whirled around with a heated fluster; she had failed to notice an equally unkempt and young teen leaning into the doorframe. He stared unenthused, with the open package in plain sight. She leapt up to her feet in confrontation, only remembering to whip the new shirt behind her.

"Yeah, what the hell? Did no one told ya to knock first?!" she snarled, red-faced.

The boy shrugged. "Eh, whatever, Kazoo."

"It's 'Kazue' you 'lil twerp!"

"Yeeeeah. Sure," the teen replied unintimidated. His eyes glanced down again at the open box then up at Kazue, spying on the curious emerald item from the reflection. "Sooooo, what's that? A shirt?"

"It's none of your business, punk!" Kazue answered, swiftly shoving the shirt deep underneath the stale, sloppy mass of fabric and mattress that is her bed. "You think about spilling the beans of whatever you saw and I'll make sure you're gonna be spilling your guts!"

"Sure, whatever." The teen looked around the personal quarters of his boss, though with the messy state it was in, it didn't look that much different from all the others in the gang: fuzzy carpet barely masking the smudge-marked concrete, concrete and brick walls with an extensive coat of blemish for wallpaper, and of course, clutter and litter everywhere. With a noticeable presence of snack bags, empty soda bottles, and now empty cardboard boxes of who knows what and from where, Kazue's place gave the impression that some geeky hobo dwelled here.

Speaking of geek… The teen glanced again at the boxes, most of which accumulated as a haphazard stack against a wall. The sides all bore a curious logo, none of which he recognized. Either it belonged to some shipping company he never heard of… or it belonged to one that wasn't native to the PC Continent, if rumors were to be believed. No one had really found out what it was she was getting, something that was important enough to spend some of their money on from all their game piracy. Although it wasn't as awful as Cape Aspiration, the city of Emesex always had the weird air about it, and Kazue had that scent all over her. And considering that Kazue had recently returned from some vacation, mysterious package in hand...

The teen merely shrugged. He still wasn't onboard with the fact that a gang of PC Continent video game pirates were bossed around by some Gamie punk. Where did she come from again? L-something… Lean-something. Ah whatever.

"Now if you don't have anything else to say, get your thumb outta your pants and back to work!" The foreign delinquent was fully back to being her usual again, all pushy, bossy, and bitchy. "We still got a lot to do while they're still around!"

"Yeah yeah, sure," the teen murmured, unenthused. "More smash-n-grab ops, I gotcha," he added as he made his leisurely departure with a nonchalant wave of his hand. But he barely made it out before a forceful hand yanked him back in, and now he found himself staring down the spiky frolics of his designated head honcho.

"Yeah, exactly: more smash-n-grab ops," Kazue growled. "More HabCo stores to rob to undersell their games; if there's any that hasn't been broken into yet, break 'em! Then crack 'em and sell them without that HabCo stink, stick them where it hurts! 'Cause if we're pirates, we may as well go all the way! And don't let any of that news or morals crap get in the way, ya hear?"

"Yeah yeah, I can hear ya clear as day!" the youth replied with annoyance. And with that, he was finally let go. As he left, Kazue took the opportunity to peek outside. In the main atrium of their hideout, everything was abuzz: fellow gang members, delinquents, and pirates milling to and fro, their jackets and shirts creating a mist of swimming colors; boxes and containers moved about, their contents of stolen goods awaiting redistribution by the pirates' hands or within blank CDs.

The sight all made Kazue rub her hands in anticipated glee. With each truckload of games, another store - preferably a Genesis Station - got robbed; with each game given away by their hands, another game not sold by the slimy hands of the filthy-rich scum such as those of HabCo. Denying them any profits was a huge bonus, a suitable punishment for all that they did to contort the land's gaming culture for the sake of maximizing profits.

Well, not on her watch. Not when there's something someone could do against this, this trend of squeezing what credits one could get before moving onto the next big thing and repeating the cycle. Everyone could see this, surely.

If not, then everyone who isn't them is blind.
The indifferent sheep who allow this to happen.
The powers in charge who reap from this.
The uncaring masses unwilling to prevent this.

But above all, the only ones blind to this disease were the very goddesses of the land itself who were all three.

Whatever. Who even needs them anyway? And to think that the entire continent and her old gang wanted to suck their-

An unseemly tone rang out. "Honk!"

Kazue blinked, snapping back to reality. Directly across from her, on the opposite side of the large warehouse room, the same voice called out again (a distinctly human one, she made sure).

"Honk!"

Kazue's eyes narrowed into dagger-like slits once she pinpointed the source, another one of her pirate gang, yet another unruly punk. "You talkin' to me, you moron?!" Kazue called back.

"Yeah! 'Cause you're Kazoo, 'member?"

"Kazue, dipshit!" the foreigner shouted, a fire already burning within her. "And what the hell do you want?!"

The member held up his hands, holding up all five fingers on one hand and his index finger on the other. "Just spotted six guys headed towards us, and I think most of 'em are Devs!"

The outburst had diminished some of the pirate activity, but now, all movement and work had screeched to a halt at the mention of the news. Kazue's anger had completely vanished as the news set in. And then, a feeling of excited expectation creeped in.

"Alright you bastards, listen up!" she loudly declared, climbing up a worktable for added effect. "I don't care who our guests are or whose asshole they crawled out of, but no way in hell are we gonna let 'em walk over us! We're gonna show 'em that we mean business!" Hopping down, Kazue reached for the indentation on the floor, unearthing a hidden stash and emerging with a pump-action shotgun in her hands.

"Lock-n-load, bozos!" Kazue grinned with devilish intent. "Time to show the Devs who's saving gaming!"

OMAKE:

"Hey, Kazoo!"

Kazue whipped around, already enraged. "FOR F$#K'S SAKE! IT'S KAZUE!" she hollered as she menacingly approached the one who dared call out to her, yet another jacket-clad hoodlum. "If you call me by that retarded name one more time I'm gonna -"

"Okay okay," the hoodlum said, evidently not perturbed by Kazue's outrage. "So I've been thinkin'... What can we call you?"

Kazue wasn't sure what to think of the question and her temper iced down. "Wh-what the hell are you gettin' at? Can't be half-assed to say my name correctly?"

"No no no, not that," replied the hoodlum, waving his hand dismissively. "I mean, everyone's got a nickname, right? So besides 'Kazoo', I've been wondering…

"... How does 'K' sound?"

Kazue raised an eyebrow. "'K'? Eh. Sounds, uh, not very special. Try harder."

"Uh… 'KK'?"
"Gee, how creative."
"How about 'Kzoo'?"
"The hell do I look like, some sorta DJ?"

The hoodlum rolled his eyes, his interest and patience waning. "Okay, fine. Do you have an idea?"

Kazue folded her arms, in deep thought. She had never thought about the topic herself before.

A nickname… for herself...

"... Er, I… wouldn't mind being called 'Kaz'," she finally answered. What Kazue didn't notice was the boy's rather intrigued look, the look of hearing the rowdy, hot-tempered, violent brat of a head honcho suddenly speak in a soft tone. And now, he stared as Kazue averted eye contact, her shoulders now hunched; her very aura receded into something more timid, more placid. A form that was so unlike the Kazue that they all knew and expected.

A moment of quietness followed before an idea popped in his head.

"...'Kazy-Pazy'?"

A bullet-fast hand wiped across his face. "DROP DEAD, ASSHOLE!"