Chapter 13: Getting Down to Business
The Lingdao, as laid back as the old man looked, was a lot sharper than most faction leaders I have had the misfortune of dealing with. Rather than discussing any business near the fighting pit where any one of his lackeys could overhear us and do who knows what with the information, he ordered the guy who originally welcomed me into the Xiong Clan's bunker to escort me to a meeting room where we could say whatever the hell we wanted without any potential eavesdroppers. There was just one teeny, tiny, minor set of conditions that I was a little less than comfortable with in this otherwise fantastic arrangement.
He wanted the both of us to go into the meeting with no guards, no weapons, and nothing else that could possibly interrupt us. If the Lingdao and I were to speak our piece, then I had to obey by his rules or we could both say goodbye to whatever plans we had for each other.
If it had been anyone other than that scar-ridden old man who went out of his way to ham up my initiation into his faction, then I would have shot everyone in the arena the moment he suggested the idea. I already fell for that schtick once because I was stupid enough to trust the rat bastard that shot me in the head. Falling for the same trick twice wasn't something I was too keen on.
Fortunately for him, I gave the jolly old crime boss the benefit of the doubt when he said he just wanted to talk. His promise of high quality Mistralian booze during our little pow-wow might or might not have had something to do with the way I practically shoved Shui Xiong out of the door so I could get my hands on a new kind of booze I was already starting to drool over. Whatever the boss was going to crack open for our meeting couldn't be any worse than a Sierra Madre Martini, and I fucking love those rancid little pick-me-ups, so there was no way in hell I wasn't passing up the opportunity for a couple shots of some mystery drink regardless of whether or not it was all part of an elaborate trap.
"So, what did you think of my fight, Water Boy?" I asked Shui to break the unsteady silence that was milling between us. He had been leading me through halls adorned with intricate floral patterns on the walls adorned with what looked like gold etchings into a few of them for the past couple of minutes. I needed something to take my mind off of how much loot I was passing up on, and while speaking to a guy who looked at me like I was something he found sticking to the underside of his boot wasn't my first choice for people to talk to, at least it would take my mind off of the thousands of caps worth of loot I was passing by.
It took more willpower than I thought I still possessed to keep myself from stripping the whole place down and selling whatever riches I could salvage to the nearest merchant, consequences be damned. I guess you could say the ol' Lingdao wasn't the only one ready to have a grand time regardless of whatever else he would be missing out on. He was really lucky that I was looking forward to whatever drinks, guns, and chems I could get out of working for him.
With that said, if our negotiations didn't happen to work out the way I wanted them, I'm pretty sure I have a good idea for what my plan B will be. There has to be someone willing to give me a couple half decent guns and enough bullets to last me a couple of days if I hand them a couple dozen pounds of gold. Hell, they'd probably give me whatever they asked for if I covered it in enough blood
"The meeting room the Xiong Clan head told me to take you to should be down the next hall, Courier." Shui announced, completely brushing off my earlier question and derailing my train of thought. For the better, of course.
...for him at least.
"Okay, but what about that bear, huh? I really took it by the head, both of them, wouldn't you say?" I joked. Water Boy didn't so much as laugh, as he did shudder at the memory of what I did to that giant fucker.
"If it is the same to you, Courier, I would prefer to forget about that fight as soon as possible."
"Suit yourself, buddy." I told him, before we continued marching on in silence, although a bit faster than before. Not sure if Shui realized what he picked up the pace after I mentioned what I did to that abomination's schlong or if he really was hauling ass on purpose, but I for one was just happy that I wasn't going to be running around in circles for much longer. I had places to be, things to do and all that.
Sure enough, it wasn't long before we reached our destination. I've got to say, compared to everything else in this gaudy and overly decorated basement the Xiongs call a hideout, the meeting room Water Boy led me to was pretty damn pathetic in comparison. It looked less like a room and more like a prison cell, but even so, I happily took a seat by the wall opposite of the door and waited for the Lingdao to join me for a bit of one-on-one action.
The old man apparently decided to take his sweet ol' time and make me wait a bit while he got his affairs in order, leaving me sitting around with fuck all to do for almost an hour as I tried to keep myself occupied until his arrival. The guy was more than likely getting a hold of the drink he promised me among other things, and I was more than happy to soak up my spartan yet comfortingly familiar surroundings in the meantime while also recording my recent adventures in my Pipboy.
I surprised myself by updating my kill tally and quest tabs before the Lingdao arrived because I was, well, shit when it came to writing stuff. It wasn't that I was illiterate, Ganon helped me with that problem a long time ago, but rather I kept on getting distracted by everything around me every couple of seconds.
With nothing else to do but soak in my surroundings, I was able to fully appreciate just how barren the meeting room was compared to the rest of Xiong Clan hideout. It wasn't empty, but rather, free of any distractions that might make it difficult to focus on whatever the hell was being discussed within its walls. There were no gaudy decorations, no fancy flooring, or century old refreshments like I would have expected from a big time crime family like the Omertas. The place was plain, simple, and didn't have a single thing that could distract me. Well, nothing aside from a trail of might or might not have been blood leading to that drain in the center of the floor, but I could forgive them for that little fixture since it was a minor necessity that all rooms should possess.
From the looks of their meeting room alone I could already tell Xiong Clan were clearly a cut above the wannabe gangsters I met in the Mojave when it came to getting shit done. Yeah, I missed having the chance to sip on some heavily matured and slightly irradiated drinks that those mob-style goons typically left all over their offices and balconies inspecting the show floors, but since the people here weren't too wasted on their own products to be anything other than a laughing stock, I could definitely appreciate how serious my newest allies took themselves. Despite all the ornate furnishings in the halls that would easily draw any visitor's attention, the spartan concrete box the Lingdao left me in was a far cry from the majesty that could be found elsewhere in his base. It kind of gave off a 'business up front, party in the back' kind of vibe, except the other way around so that way they could surprise any dipshits that thought they didn't have what was probably served as a torture room on most days.
Whoever designed this room clearly wanted its occupants to be focused on whatever business they were here to discuss, and if a few of the rust colored stains and drain on the ground were anything to go by and not just my imagination getting the better of me, the Xiong Clan weren't afraid to get messy if it meant getting shit done.
I'd say that's another point for them in my book, if anything.
I tried calling out for Shui Xiong to see if he knew how much longer the Lingdao would be since I was starting to get a little bit impatient after successfully washing the bloodstains on the floor out of sheer boredom, but he didn't say a peep. Trying to call for anyone else or threatening whatever bastard thought it was funny to give me the silent treatment also didn't net me any responses. A quick jostling of the door handle leading out of delightfully dreary room told me that it wasn't locked, telling me that they guards around here either trusted me enough to not do anything stupid or were so confident that they didn't think I could do much harm if I felt like causing a bloodbath.
These guys were truly professionals, and a great judge of character to boot. Far better than those Mantle fucks that cheaped out on their defenses and manpower back in that sex dungeon thingamjigger they threw me in a while ago.
It was just as I was starting to entertain the idea of roaming the halls outside the tiny bunker I had been waiting in that the Lingdao finally decided to grace me with his presence. I was a bit stunned to see that he stuck with his earlier promise and arrived with no one with him, be they guards or a single one of the girls fawning over him during my fight with the armored Yao Guai-like Grimm because I wouldn't have minded a bit of eye candy to entertain me while discussing business. Of course, on the off chance she was like most flower girls and had a couple of knives or sawn-off tucked underneath her dress, maybe it was for the best that the old man came in alone. He was either really trusting, really brave, or really badass to consider meeting me one on one, especially since it seemed like he knew what role I played in tearing down Mantle's forces in Vacuo.
...the city, not the kingdom.
Although I'm sure those bastards won't be setting foot in the city any time soon, I somehow doubt an entire kingdom can be kept out of another kingdom for too long. Not when Mantle was able to take control of the kingdom of Vacuo's capital city…
My personal paranoia and other nonsense aside, the Lingdao actually looked pleased to meet me. I honestly can't remember the first time someone looked happy to talk with me without a gun in their hands or a giant sack of caps in mine, so seeing a smile on that old codger's smiling face made me crack into a grin of my own even though no one could see it from underneath my mask. There certainly wasn't anyone in Vacuo that welcomed me with a smile that genuine and a warm-up brawl that I could remember.
As for the ungrateful cockwaffles in the Mojave, I'd rather not think about the shit they put me through after I came back from Zion. Bunch of ungrateful pricks, the lot of 'em.
"Courier Six, that was an incredible performance you put on for the clan." The Lingdao greeted me as he took up a seat in front of me on the floor.
"What can I say? I could hardly disappoint you and the rest of your people after they were kind enough to give me an audience with you." I responded, earning a laugh from the old man.
"That may be, but I cannot say I have ever seen someone willingly fight against an Ursa Major without any weapons, let alone survive and defeat it."
"Well, there ain't too many people as badass as me out there in the world, so I'm not surprised to hear that, Mr Lingdao." I bragged as I relaxed myself a bit to match the elderly crime lord's friendly attitude.
"Please, call me Baba Xiong. There is no need to be so formal when it is just the two of us alone." He said as he reached into his robes and pulled out a half empty bottle of booze from the inside. "Would you like some Baijiu before we start discussing business?"
As appetizing as the bottle of unknown goodness looked, I waved it away instead of ripping it out of the old man's hand and guzzling the whole thing down like I ordinarily would have after going twelve hours without a drop of alcohol. "Thanks, but I'll pass. I prefer not to take any food or drink unless I know it's fresh or I saw where they got it from." I told him, hoping he wouldn't take any offense from me.
Thankfully he was still jovial enough to laugh off my refusal. "I should have expected a courier like yourself to refuse a gift given so freely. You never know who you can these days."
"You're damn right about that Baba. I can't tell you how many times I found out the 'mystery meat' someone sold me turned out to be from some poor whose half rotted corpse was stuffed somewhere in their basement." I told him. While the old man didn't say anything, the grimace he gave me suggested he wasn't entirely unfamiliar with the practice.
"Speaking of people you can and cannot trust, there is a matter I need to discuss with you before allowing you to work for the Xiong Clan." The old man said, suddenly getting serious for a moment. The change was a little concerning, but not entirely unexpected.
Having the old guy trust me completely would have been a huge concern for me, so seeing that he wasn't quite as amiable with me as I first believed him to be was a tremendous relief.
"Why did you go to the Spirit of Vacuo for help before you came to us?" He asked.
"Oh, that? Simple, we both had some things the other wanted." I told him.
"And what would those 'some things' be, I wonder?" The Lingdao inquired, proving himself to be a cut above most faction leaders once again by not taking my words at face value.
"Well, after having an entire kingdom trying to fuck me over for a couple of days, I wanted nothing more to crack some skulls to show those Mantlesian shitstains exactly who they were dealing with and teach them why its a bad idea to fuck with the mailman." I explained. "After getting thrown into some sort of sex dungeon, torture room kind of place, I finally found who I needed to kill to send Mantle a message they couldn't ignore."
A look of understanding glazed over the Xiong Clan's boss at this point. "I take it that Major Ironwood was the person you decided to make your 'special delivery' to?" He presumed, and his guess was right on the money.
"You're goddamn right I did." I said.
"That would explain why you assaulted the Mantlesian Embassy so brazenly, but not why you are working with those trigger happy ferals." The Lingdao mused as he tried to understand what I did back then when I was just doing whatever seemed like the least likely to screw myself over in the long run. He didn't quite spit out the word 'ferals' the same way I've heard others call them 'animals', but even I could tell that the Lingdao wasn't exactly on friendly terms with my Bunny Boy's bunch of goons.
It wouldn't surprise me at all if that rabbit fuck wasn't the type to play nicely with others. Tha'd definitely explain why Baba Xiong looked ready to punch something just mentioning his little group of wannabe rebels.
"Uhh, right." I said as I adjusted my plan to leave Alex and his lot behind up a bit sooner after hearing a second opinion about that bunch. "The Spirit of Vacuo sent one of their people to rescue me from The Camp, but I managed to break out of there on my own before they could do anything to help. So, instead of trying to tear each other to pieces, we decided to come to an… agreement, of sorts."
"An agreement?" The old man repeated, hiding none of his disbelief.
"Yeah, an agreement. They had a couple of supplies that they were willing to let me use, and I was willing to use anything they gave me to kill Ironcock." I explained, allowing the Lingdao to recover for a moment after spitting out a mouthful of booze.
"That's it?!" He shouted.
"Yep, pretty much. Their leader says he might have another job for me so I've been enjoying their hospitality for the past few days while he tries to find something for me to do. I'd love to keep on waiting for Bunny Boy to take his thumb out of his ass and finally find me some work, but as you can clearly see, I'm starting to get a little impatient with the slimy son of a bitch." I continued.
The old man took another swig from his bottle, milling over my explanation for my misadventures over the past couple of days no doubt, before reaching a decision. "There's one last thing I want to know before we discuss the work I have for you. Whether you answer it or not is up to you, the job is still yours to deliver regardless, but I have to know; what kind of man are you?"
Since there were a hundred different things I could say to answer his question, only a few of them flattering, I thought it was best to have him clarify what he was looking for before I could make a fool of myself. It was truly a miracle that I was able to think clearly enough not to blurt something batshit crazy instead of figuring out what the fuck Baba Xiong was trying to get at. "What exactly do you want to know about me?" I inquired.
"Are you a faunus?" He asked me.
Oh, that's it? Huh, and here I thought it would be something a bit more important than what was underneath my armor. "Nope." I answered.
The old man's eyes widened in shock for a moment, before his look of surprise was replaced by a devilish smile I was all too familiar with as he prepared his next question. "Do they know you're not a faunus?"
"I don't have a clue. They never bothered to ask." I told him, still not understanding the significance of his question yet.
Both of us just kept staring at each other for what felt like hours before the Lingdao started to crack up with laughter. I ended up breaking down in a giggle fit of my own not long afterwards watching the guy lose his shit, and soon the room was filled with the two of us laughing our asses off like idiots even though only one of us knew what the hell we were laughing at. It took us a good moment to get ourselves under control, and when we finally did, I could see tears of joy welling up in the jolly old man's eyes.
"You mean to tell me that those vicious bastards, the same feral bunch of fools that would shoot every Mantlesian on sight and drive out any humans from their territory at gunpoint, don't know the guy that has done the most for them since their original leader died... is a human?" The Lingdao asked as he tried his best not to start laughing again.
I wasn't quite sure if I could still be called 'human' per sey on account of all the rads I've soaked up and implants I have installed in my body, whether or not they were acquired willingly or otherwise, but I wasn't going to disagree with the Xiong Clan's leader because of a technicality. "Yep. That pretty much sums it up." I told him.
If Baba Xiong didn't like me earlier, then the way he slapped my shoulder and grinned at me like I was his own son coming back to meet him for the first time in years definitely solidified whatever bond he felt we had between us now. "You are the craziest man I have ever met!" He exclaimed. If anyone else had said it I would have fed them a ballistic fist without any hesitation, but since the old man said it like it was the highest praise he could offer me, I took it in stride. "You will be perfect for the deliveries I need you to make."
I instantly perked up at the prospect of returning to the work I did best, especially since I knew I could probably ask this guy for his daughter and he would personally deliver her to me at this point. "Did you just say, deliveries?"
"Yes, I have been in need of someone to carry a few packages for quite some time, but with Mantle and Mistral becoming more active in Vacuo, finding someone both willing and able to travel across the continent has been almost impossible until today, now that I finally have someone I know who can take care of himself against the fiercest of foes." He explained.
Oh sweet mother of Graham, this job the Lingdao wanted to give me was starting to sound like a dream come true. Time to see if it really is. "What kind of packages will I be needing to deliver for the Clan, Baba Xiong?"
"I have many contacts across both Sanus and Mistral that have been awaiting my impressions about the current climate building between the kingdoms. I have been in desperate need of someone I can rely on to ensure the letters I have prepared for them are delivered safely." The Lingdao said.
"Letters?" I asked, knowing damn well that I would be carrying more than a few meaningless scraps of paper for the old man.
"Yes, letters. The contents of the messages do not matter. It is the people that will be receiving them that are important. The Xiong Clan has collected a lot of favors over the decades." The jovial elder explained.
"And let me guess, you're thinking that if you don't collect those favors now then you won't be getting anything out of your 'debtors' at all?" I finished for him, knowing damn well there could hardly be any other reason. "You know, I did a couple of jobs as a debt collector in the past. I could get a lot more than the few favors you are owed if you want me to. You'd be surprised how persuasive I can be and just how much spare change people have when I threaten to feed them their own teeth."
"As tempting as your proposition is, I will need their cooperation more than anything you could take from them. " He said.
"Fair enough." I said, happy to drop things there after noticing the slight edge to the Baba Xiong's voice after implying to rough some of his debtors up. If he didn't want any harm to come to them, then that's that. So long as I'm getting paid for these deliveries, I suppose what happens afterwards ain't any of my business. Speaking of which…
"Mind if I ask you to gather a couple of supplies for me so that your errand boy doesn't come to any harm?" I asked him.
The old man gave me a small laugh before saying anything. "Of course. What supplies can we provide you in addition to any Lien you will require to cover your expenses for this endeavor?" He inquired.
"The fuck's a Lien?" I blurted out before I could catch myself.
The Lingdao narrowed his eyes at my sudden question and I could already tell before then that I fucked up big time by asking that. "You don't know what a Lien is?" He asked me.
"No, no I don't." I explained. "Hell, I don't even know what my fucking name is after waking up when a couple of lab coats started cutting pieces out of me and replacing them with a whole bunch of metal replacements. The last thing I remember before then is getting wasted in my room back in Mistral after making one last delivery for the day. Next thing I know, I'm staring at my heart floating in a jar and then waking up in a dumpster a couple of days later with no clue I wasn't in Mistral anymore."
The Lingdao looked mildly concerned as I tried to brush off his concerns, but soon enough it looked like he came to a sudden realization as some of the questions he must have had about me were finally resolved. "Did you say you were from Mistral, Courier?" He asked me, more than likely testing me to see if I wasn't full of shit.
"To the best of my knowledge, yes." I told him, leaving myself a little bit of wiggle room if it turned out that America and Mistral weren't the same thing.
"Which part would that be? Surely you would have heard of a Lien regardless of where you are from?" He questioned.
"Friend, I don't know my damn name or how old I am anymore. I'm probably lucky to remember as little as I can, truth be told. The only thing I was sure of when I finally woke up in Vacuo was that everything hurt, everything in my life was suddenly gone, and those white suited fucks from Mantle were to blame for all of it." I told him. "But to answer your question, I think I used to live in a desert on Mistral if that is any help. Pretty sure it's in the eastern half of the continent if I remember correctly. Or maybe the west. All depends on if my mind isn't playing tricks on me."
I pulled that last part out of my ass after remembering Antlers and Snake Eyes talk about it a bit when I mentioned it a couple of days ago, and after seeing the way the Lingdao's face practically lit up after I finished talking, I was glad I didn't ignore them back then. "Ah, that would explain a lot. Lien never did catch on in that part of Anima." He mused.
"Uhh… you wouldn't happen to know the name of the desert over there, would you?" I asked in the small hope that it truly was the Mojave we were both talking of and I could easily go home once I reached Mistral… Anima… whatever the hell these Europeans call America these days.
"No, I don't. All I know about that place is that there are enormous hordes of Grimm that roam the area and that most of them are quite strange compared to those found elsewhere throughout the world." He said. "I have also heard rumors about the people there being… *ahem* strange, compared to the rest of Remnant."
"Shit… so I'm guessing that all the cash I have from there isn't any good here then?" I asked as it suddenly occurred to me that I might be dirt poor now.
"That depends. Do they use any gold, silver, or bronze coins where you think you are from?" The old man asked me.
"No more than a few hundred pieces of silver, and a couple dozen gold coins." I told him, carefully leaving out the emergency fund I made sure to carry with me after my time in the Sierra Madre in case he got any bright ideas like the last person I shared that secret with. "I'm just going to assume the couple thousand NCR dollars and my fortune in bottle caps isn't worth jack shit then."
The old man balked when I mentioned using bottle caps as money, but it didn't hurt me too much to see his reaction. Considering that anyone who lived before the bombs dropped would have thought the same about the NCR's monopoly money and the Hub Standard, I couldn't blame him.
"Bottle caps!?" He spat out as if he just found a couple in his gecko steak. Not a fun experience, not fun at all. "You people buy things using bottle caps?"
"Yes. At least, I think so. My memory is a little fuzzy in general and that seems to be the best explanation for why I have almost fifty thousand of the damn things on me." I said in an attempt to drop that whole mess entirely before we were completely bogged down by it.
"How are you able to carry so much trash?" The Lingdao asked me.
Listening to someone call my fortune 'trash' hurt like hell, especially with all the pains I went through to acquire it, but I still gave him the answer he was looking for regardless. "I have a handy little device that digitizes anything that is too bulky for me to carry, amongst other things." I told him.
I could have explained exactly what my Pipboy did by handing the damn thing over to him, but I wasn't willing to let that sucker go just so someone could take a good look at it. It gave me enough trouble as it was, the last thing I needed was for someone to drop it and cause even more nerve damage than it already did the next time I put it on. Even though letting the head honcho in front of me inspect my most valuable treasure was off of the table, he still looked happier than a Boomer in a missile factory just looking at it.
"How much do you think you would be able to carry with this device of yours?" He asked with the look of a man ready to do something incredibly daring, stupid, or possibly both.
"No more than two hundred and sixty-five pounds. I could carry more if you had any Addictol, or hell, even a couple doses of Fixer if you'd be willing to let me take them." I informed him in the small hopes of getting myself back into fighting shape.
"Never heard of those." The Lingdao said, crushing my hopes of recovering from my addictions before leaving Vacuo. "What are they anyways?"
"Chems." I answered, hoping I wouldn't have to explain myself further after getting treated like a common druggies the last time I mentioned them to somebody.
"What are chems?"
Of course he wouldn't know what chems are. Well, maybe I can still get away with not sounding like a drug addi- chem addict after all. "They are performance enhancing medicines." I told him.
The Lingdao once again proved he was smarter than the average bear. Not really surprising considering he is the leader of his clan, but not at all what I wanted from him. "They're drugs?" He guessed.
"Pretty much, but instead of making you see crazy shit… Jet excluded, they make you do stuff your body isn't ordinarily capable of." I explained.
There was a knowing look spread across the old man's face and I already knew what he was just about to ask me. "Are they capable of helping someone…"
"Launch a raid against the guy running Vacuo and help him survive to tell the tale?" I finished for him. "Yes, yes they did."
"I see." The Lingdao mumbled to himself. "Are they addictive?"
"Very." I told him.
"You say that, yet you do not look like any Dust addicts prowling the sewers." He prodded.
"True, you got me there." I conceded, making a mental note to be a little more careful on the way back to the Spirit of Vacuo's hideout. "Still, I might not look it, but I feel like something a Deathclaw dragged in. I can barely throw a straight punch and feel like I have the worst hangover in the history of bad decisions." And with that, the old man lost all interest in whatever chems I might have been willing to sell him. Not that I was going to sell any of them until I knew I could find some more, anyway.
"Well, I suppose all that is left is for us to discuss what supplies you will need to complete your delivery." The Lingdao announced. "Tell me, what is it that you require of Xiong Clan?"
Finally, back to business. "Guns, knives, lube, a box of spare parts to make some repairs, and a fuck ton of bullets." I told him.
I hardly was able to finish talking before the old man gave me the most judgmental stare I have ever found myself under. "Lube?"
Huh, that was not the thing I would have thought he would have hung on to. "Yeah, lube. How else am I supposed to keep my guns from getting jammed?" I asked him. The people here did have magic fucking bullets after all, so maybe Europe has some other way to keep their weapons clean that I didn't know about. That would certainly explain why the old man looked at me like I was a nutjob all of a sudden.
"Oh. Is that all you will need to make a delivery to Vale?" He asked me, dropping the lube thing entirely. Well, if he was willing to offer me more free shit then I will gladly take all that I can get!
"No, I'll also need some maps of Vacuo and the land between here and Vale. Any preserved food, clean water, and any unopened bottles of alcohol you are willing to spare to make my little trip that much more bearable would also be appreciated, but no meat. I don't want to imply anything about the Xiong Clan being untrustworthy, but I refuse to eat any meat I haven't hunted for myself." I told him. "I've learned what the 'mystery meat' some shady merchants have fed me really after the fact one too many times."
The maps and water were necessary, everything else a lot less so. I still had a whole hell of a lot of Salient Green on me, although I'd rather have some real food instead of replica food with the same taste and texture of moldy grass. As for the booze… well, one night in the Ultra-Luxe taught me just how easy it was to drug an entire dining hall. The certain doom that would come from finding and drinking such bottles when I was back in the Mojave was more than enough to keep me from enjoying them myself, and I still ain't willing to drink anything I haven't personally opened.
Call me paranoid all you like, but it's the little things that keep people like me alive and kicking. Anyone in my line of work that doesn't pick up on things like that doesn't tend to last too long before something or someone eats them alive.
Thankfully, the Lingdao had enough presence of mind to let my unintentional cannibalism slide. "We should be able to prepare most of what you need by noon. Payment for a job well done will also be included, Courier." He said.
"Great, if that's it, then I'll just head on back to the Spirit of Vacuo and-"
"We will need to know what Dust rounds you need, though." The old man interrupted as I was about to leave. "Every gun is different, and we will need to know which calibers you require."
Oh shit, that's right. Fancy artisan bullets and guns. I almost forgot about that dumbass shit.
"Right, sorry about that. Damn chems are making it hard to remember things." I grumbled as I fiddled with my Pipboy and pulled out a couple of bullets from one of my ammo pouches once they were rematerialized.
"Here, I'll take whatever 12 gauge shells you have for the hand cannon and any .50 MG rounds for the sniper I'm 'borrowing' from Mantle." I told him as I threw him the ammo so he could get someone to gather what I asked for.
Sure, I didn't need either of those bullets because I had damn near a thousand shells and a couple hundred .50s, but I still wanted them regardless. On the off chance these foreign guns weren't intended to fire the same ammunition found in the Mojave... well, the last thing I wanted was to have my fucking gun explode in my hands during a shootout just because the ammo I was using wasn't exactly the kind it was meant to fire. Believe me, that is not a mistake you ever want to make twice.
Hell, most of the ammo I tried looting from the bodies I left behind in the embassy was all stuff I had never seen before. Probably won't be able to do anything with those rounds unless I feel like tempting fate and breaking down a couple of them to see if I can make something a bit more destructive like that icy mist bomb I used against those assassins, but that don't mean I still can't make something fancy for my other guns. On the off chance I do make something that doesn't immediately blow up in my face, I'll have plenty of new toys to play with. Oh how would I love to give those Mantlesian shitbags a taste of their own medicine…
Baba Xiong didn't have anything to say to me after that, so with all of our business settled, Shui reappeared as soon as I stepped outside the meeting room and escorted me out of the Xiong Clan's little base of operations. It was already dawn and I knew I was probably in for one hell of a lecture from Bunny Boy for going against his orders, but I couldn't find it in me to give a damn about that slime son of a bitch. The guy has been wasting my time for far too long and it was high time I started wasting his.
I made sure to enjoy the scenery as best as I could as I took a nice, leisurely stroll back to the Spirit of Vacuo's hole in the ground.
IT had a mission.
Ever since SHE learned about the new piece that had come into play, SHE had ordered IT to stand guard and wait for HER newest prospective pawn to leave the safety of the city until it could prove whether it was worthy of recruitment or a quick and messy death.
IT did not mind waiting, IT was content knowing that IT would soon soak the sands it stalked red with blood once more, but IT had long since grown impatient as some of the prey hiding behind the nigh impenetrable walls of the city ran back to their icy homeland, far from the reaches of its ravenous hunger.
IT longed for the opportunity to ravage those that SHE despised, but IT it was forced to wait.
SHE would decide whether or not IT'S wait would be worthwhile.
IT knew, regardless of whether the newest 'Wanderer' bowed down before HER majesty, IT would enjoy their meeting.
IT had a mission, and IT would gladly see that no matter what happened, blood would soon be shed.
And so, IT would wait.
IT knew it was only a matter of time until the carnage would start once more.
Then IT could finally put IT'S unwitting rival in his proper place.
Author's Corner:
Short chapter, I know, but throwing anything from the next chapter broke the flow of things entirely so this is all I will be posting this time. So, rather than rambling on like I usually do I'll try to keep my bit here short for once. First off, I will finally start going over a few comments in this story like I have in my other one. Never thought I would end up including comments and responses in this story when I started it, same with bonuses at the end of chapters, but look how that one ended up?
The second thing I would like to say is that I have finally decided to look for a beta for this story, so if anyone here is a fan of dark humor, stories, and themes that wouldn't mind assisting me with some minor characterization and dialogue in the future, please PM me for further details!
Comments:
Maskedkeeper: Typical courier, he goes on a stroll and ends up with a new faction. One more faction and we be set for typical 3 way betrayal with courier mayor of a new town
I always got you comments for you sir or madam.
Much obliged, mate. As for the factions, if you were in their shoes, why wouldn't you want the crazy mass murdering psychopath on your side? It's sure as hell one way to get him to not think about murdering everyone you know and love.
Or at least make him hesitate long enough to give you a running start...
Rio Skyon: I do appreciate these moments, especially the mentions of Goodsprings, helps partially explain why Six is the way he is.
I'm glad you like reading them, because I like writing them. Since the Courier will be able to act a little more 'freely' in the future, expect to see a few more reasons why he is so fucked up in the head at some point.
BONUS!
Character Stats:
Name: Major Ironwood
Level: 30
S: 8
P: 8
E: 6
C: 5
I: 6
A: 7
L: 6
Notable Skills:
Barter: 60
Guns (One/Two Handed): 100/80
Speech: 70
Survival: 55
Unarmed: 90
Perks:
Quick Draw, Rapid Reload, Nerves of Steel, Finesse, Run 'n Gun, Gunslinger, Ferocious Loyalty, Toughness 2, Terrifying Presence, Better Criticals, Weapon Handling, Abominable 3, Grunt, Lessons Learned, Alertness, Lord Death 2, Defensive Aura 4
As always, thank you all for the support you have shown this story. I hope to see you again soon.