A round of mass accelerator went buzzing over my head and I glared at the last KOD juvenile alive member who seems stunned for missing that shot. Never bring a shotgun if you wanna precision pal. I lined up and shot him until the kessler in my hands overheated. Things I can't complain about: they don't use shields, and those who do are equipped with kinetic barriers of such low quality that they barely last two shots.
I stared at the human boy surprisingly still alive, writhing in a pool of blood that leaked from the bullet wounds I caused in his chest. I approached the fallen gangster, aiming for the head and pulling the trigger and cursing when the gun didn't fire. Shit! Damn the heat system of the first game! I remember that the perspective of infinite ammo was a dream coming true when I played. But I soon saw the downside to that when I was killed just because the damn rifle didn't disperse fast enough.
*Stuttering*
I interrupted my inner thoughts when I saw the gangster still alive choking on his own blood in agony. Damn… I must have hit a lung… ugh. I can't leave him like that, suffocating on his own fucking blood is one of the most horrible ways to die. I pulled the trigger again and groaned in frustration when the pistol just clicked.
"I'm sorry dude, but believe me when I say that this will be mercy compared to the time you would be agony there." I said, closing my eyes and lifting the sole of my shoe. Damn my basic knowledge of medicine and lung perforation, and fuck it how I get it in first place! I could just leave him if I didn't know what I know...
I hate myself for this.
I started stomping on the gangster's face violently, not stopping well even when I could feel the moisture of the blood passing through the boot fabric or when the sickening sound of flesh and bones was smashed. As soon as the body stopped moving, I stopped stepping on the now brutally beaten face. As I said ... I hate myself so strongly for this, and I hate this planet and its criminality out of control even more for putting me in this shit situation!
Seriously… it's this how that retired CIA agent cast by Denzel Washington feels when killing people? Because it sucks, a looot!
Okay, with that was six. A quick inspection around allowed me to count the bodies of the other human guy on the bedroom door that I shot in the head and the two batarians on the ground floor equally shot. It's… six in all. Now where's the seventh? Did the batarian lie to me? Nah, they value the eyes a lot and I was very careful with the amount of pain …
There's... definitely something really wrong with me. I'm being casual about this bloody shit again… hold on your sanity Mike, and stop being methodical about killing people like a fucking psychopath for christ sake!
"I'M WILL SPLIT YOU IN TWO YOU DISGUSTING SICK!" I glanced back just in time to see a skycar piloted by what looks like a turian speeding in my direction.
... I think I found the seventh.
If this was any other moment, even though I have revealed myself in the most disturbing way possible a tough one, I would not have been able to get out of the way and won't be turned into a pile of blood and bones broken by the skycar about to hit me hard.
But this was not just any other moment, this was the moment that my heart went into turbo for the second time since all this bloody fighting shit started, and time once again proved to be my greatest ally when everything became slow, the edges of vision slightly turned gray and the rest took on an extra-bright hue.
BioWare, I really owe you guys for making the adrenaline rush a slow motion feature! I threw myself to the side, out of the way of the car that I could see out of the corner of my eye slowly going to impact against the hotel wall, barely missing me. This is so strange. As useful as it has been twice now, I won't get used to it anytime soon. It's like experiencing the science behind Max Payne on your skin.
Not that there is any science behind it anyway.
I could hear the car crashing hard against the metal when the adrenaline rush passed and everything returned to normal speed. Even with my heart pounding, I didn't waste time breathing when I aiming the Kessler, firing at the driver who ... suffered nothing. The rounds were absorbed as if they were nothing by the shields of the turian wearing a dark armor with the same red web-like marks that his face tribal marks had.
Ok… there goes my first advantage. This guy has shields and decent armor ... I'm screwed, aren't I?
"Say good night!" He roared, before firing furiously at me with an assault rifle.
My best bet was to roll over to stand behind the car, the only source of cover I could see, escaping most rounds, except for two that grazed my cheek and arm. Let me say something about rounds of mass effect: they burn like hell! I clenched my teeth, grabbing the shotgun from the nearby corpse and trying not to think about the pain.
Shit… it burns a lot! Right, stay focus. Focus on the fight Mike, focus on the fight. Olay... looks like a shotgun katana I have in hands, it will do it. I waited for the turian's rifle to overheat so that I had a chance, but instead the bastard just jumped the car and landed by my side, giving me a smug smile of triumph.
Well, that was until he noticed what I had in hand. His smile turned to a look of fear when I simply pulled the trigger, hitting him point blank in the chest. The shield fell and he was thrown on his back on the floor.
Everything I've done so far has been totally instinctive and based on luck, so I don't think I'm a combat expert or something. But what was exactly this guy's strategy? He just put himself in my line of fir- The answer to that comes in the form of the surprisingly still alive turian trying to put a round in my head with his pistol. The shot buzzed over my head when I lunged, hitting him in the head without protection with the butt of the shotgun before pressing the barrel against his jaw and pulling the trigger.
*Splash"
Damn it! I moved mine to my face in an attempt to clean the blue blood from it now, but decided against it when it just spread more ... "alien residue" on my face. No matter how hard I try, I won't even be able to do it cleanly, do I?
Moving away from the body with a jaw blown up by the shotgun shot, I examined the dead turian's banshee assault rifle. It can be more useful than the shotgun, assuming I know how to use it. But again, I've managed to use all the guns I've touched quite accurately so far. Worth the try. I threw away the shotgun and picked up the banshee, moving away from the scene of carnage as fast as I could.
Drerk... don't you dare die on me you bastard
You know, I would be very pleased with myself now if my friend was not in danger. So we can say that I'm kind of enjoying it and kind of out of time. For the first time since I woke up on this shitty planet, I am not getting malicious looks from people with less than pleasant intentions. In fact, everyone who passed me was trying not to look in my direction.
I think this is what happens when you're running with an assault rifle in hands and the face covered in blue blood, nobody really wants to look at you or fuck with you.
Pushing a salarian out of my way, I crossed the street and entered the alley that led me to a small apartment at the back of the alley. The entrance had clearly been breached, as you could still see the traces of smoke and what was left of the destroyed door.
This is not good, certainly not good. Just ... have faith and try not to think about the worst case scenario. I can still have time… he can still be alive…
My hands tightened on the assault rifle as I cautiously walked towards the destroyed entrance. Apart from the wreckage at the door, there was nothing or anyone in sight. But even so, I didn't take my finger off the trigger when I started to make my way towards the stairs when I entered the building.
"Stop *Kshhhk* right there *Kshhhk* earth clan!" I spun around, aiming the banshee at what would be the funniest thing I've ever seen if I was in a better mood. A volus, aiming a small version of a Kessler at me.
Now that is cute.
"You *Kshhhk* think *Kshhhk* you can come here *Kshhhk* an-"
"Save the breath man, I'm not with the people who opened a hole in the door." I said, cutting off the volus and giving him a serious glare. "But I'm honestly in a really bad mood today and we both know that only one of us knows how to use a gun. So just tell me which floor a batarian with a bad eye lives on and you won't go see me mad."
I don't know if it was my glare, the turian blood covering my entire face or my tone of voice that was disturbingly cold and composed, but the volus let go of the gun and seemed to want to run back to his apartment.
"Fourth *Kshhhk* floor." He said before locking himself back in his apartment. Okay, thanks for the tip, brother.
I climbed the stairs in quick hurried steps, keeping my eyes open not only to any KOD assholes, but to the locals. That's Chalkhos, I won't be surprised if half the people in the building are also armed. Between the blood on my face and the gun in my hand, they may have the wrong idea about me.
And I don't want to get to that, but I don't want to kill someone for a bloody misunderstanding.
"AAAUGH!"
A loud scream of pain that chilled my spine echoed all over the place. I doubled the speed I was running, almost stumbling as I ran up the stairs, fearing what I was going to find. If they killed him, I swear that brutality is going to be the last thing I'll be worried about when I get my hands on the bastards! I'll make it hurt ... even if it doesn't make me better than them.
I pressed my back against the stairs wall, closing my eyes and taking a deep breath. The source of the screams was just around the corner, and I found myself unable to continue. Shit… please be alive, please be alive you three-eyed asshole…
It's all or nothing now.
I turned the corner with the banshee ready, hoping to see Drerk's corpse and the responsibles close by. But what I found was the figure of a human guy wearing armor that was shrouded in flames, as well as his entire body that had just collapsed on the floor.
Ok… this is not what I expected and… shit! This … stinks. Really, it stinks a lot and certainly doesn't smell like discipline ... I looked beyond the burning body where there were two dead KODs outside an apartment where sounds of struggle seemed to be coming. Ok… what's going on?
I approached slowly and calmly, keeping the banshee ready for whatever shit could happen. It would be an understatement to say that I was surprised by what I saw inside the apartment.
"So you son of a bitch! Have something to say to me huh?" His fist hit the gangster hard in the face, drawing blood from his already badly beaten face. "If you are going to try to kill me in my place, it is better to bring professionals instead of whatever that shit was!"
"... Drerk?"
He suddenly turned to me with the most murderous and penetrating glare I have ever seen of him, at least until he saw that it was me and his murderous look became mild irritation.
"Are you okay?"
"With a lot of damage to the apartment and I'll probably have to pay for the door down there. No, Kane, I'm not okay!" He responded by punching the fallen gangster again and I could clearly hear the bone breaking."What the hell are you doing here anyway? left me in the workshop for most of the day with all the hard work and now you decided to show up for exactly what?"
"I… you… what the fuck happened here?" I asked. I was coming to a rescue but I ended up running into a bunch of dead gangsters.
"The pillars if I know." He shrugged, away from the beaten gangster. "These shits came out from the fucking nowhere bursting at my door and shooting."
"And how did you get rid of them?"
He just activated the omni tool and a turret came out of the ceiling compartment before retracting again. Of course, he has a turret on the roof of the place. Why am I not surprised by this?
"It must have been expensive to install."
"Not really, I did the manual work. And it was really worth it, took care of those idiots. Except the champion here and the guy in the hall." He said, kicking the gangster.
"Do I want to know the details?" I asked, making a frown when the smell of the burned body invaded again. Seriously, how can stink so much? If you think I would be undisturbed you thought wrong. It's literally the most unpleasant shit I've ever smelled.
"Story for another time, I'm too lazy to give out the details. But basically I made his mine explode before he could launch." He focused his lower two eyes on what I had in hand and then on my bloodstained face. "And I'm going to want to know where you got it from and why the hell do you look like you were making out with a turian's guts?"
"Short story: your new friends tried to kill me when I got back to the hotel earlier. Then I came running to save your ass after killing." I chuckled weakly. My help is literally the last thing he needed and… am I really just accepting that my co-worker killed four people?
"Well, I didn't think you had it on you with all the memory loss and cowardice. But I appreciate the part that touches me." he suddenly grinned. "And also your ass hitting the floor."
"My…" his fist connected with the side of my face. But unlike other times, the only thing you did was turn my head to the side instead of knocking me over.
Is this serious?
"Ok you idiot, why the hell did you do that?" I glaring at him.
"For leaving me with all the hard work in the workshop today."
"Fair enough." I rotated the banshee, hitting his abdomen with the butt of the gun and feeling quite satisfied when he flinched. "This is for make me run here just to save your ass when you didn't even need to be saved, asshole."
"Fuck you!"
"Soon after you." I rubbed my aching face. Enhanced bones or not, batarians can punch hard. "Seriously Drerk, go fuck yourself. I came running all the way here because I thought you're in trouble. Some 'thanks' would be nice."
"If you expect people to thank you with flowers and smiles, go to the fucking council space." He groaned, rubbing his aching abdomen and straightening up. "But I appreciate the concern, you less memories idiot with strange-eyes. Just don't expect me to be all soft with you."
"I would find it strange if you were, I am already used to your cretinous and unbearable way." I chuckled.
"Ass."
*Grunting*
I looked at the floor where the gangster Drerk had knocked the shit off was. The guy is still alive even after that punch. Impressive. I simply aimed the banshee and put a round on the head, ended his suffering.
"Wow!"
"What?"
"Nothing ... it's just that I really didn't think you had on you. It's impressive." He replied, making his way to the kitchen.
"It's not impressive Drerk, it's shit. A big pile of shit that keeps building up more and more." I stared at the gangster's lifeless corpse, hoping to feel something. But ... I still don't feel anything. I don't feel guilty, after all it was them or us. But… damn it, even with that in mind it's still weird that I don't give a shit.
"No Kane, this is Chalkhos. Simple as that. Or you get used to it, move or put a bullet in your own head."
"Like I said, a pile of shit." I looked over to where he was searching the refrigerator. "Have beer or anything that can help with my melancholy?"
"My people's beer. And since I know you love it, I would say it's a full plate for you." He replied, taking two bottles and throwing me one that I took. "Take a chair and sit there. At least they didn't blow up the rest of the place before I put them down."
"I guess so." I sat down, opening the bottle and taking a long sip of the cold beer. Trying not to make eye contact with the body in the room. "You were lucky it seems, they only came with guns drawn. In the case of Harris, the whole place caught on fire."
"So that was it." He muttered. "He told me something about a stove problem, I didn't swallow it. First he, then you and now me. Any idea why these idiots are aiming on us? I mean, the old man is not one to make enemies, you don't remember anything and I just pay my bills and try not to poke around others business. So why?"
"... I have some ideas." I mumbled under my breath, taking another long drink of beer. Telling him this is all my fault would be a good way for him to blow me up with that turret. But… would keeping him in the dark be the best? He also ended up involved in that.
"Drerk… this was all a-" my omni tool lit up with a big beep emitting from it, cutting me off from anything I could confess. A glance showed me that Drerk's omni tool had also received something.
"... I don't know about you, but I don't believe in coincidence." He said.
"We have that in common then." I opened my omni tool and saw that it was a message.
A message from none other than Harris himself.
My address, now. Take time and I will hit you so hard that even your unborn children will feel it. As well as their children, and their children's children.
"Someone woke up in a bad mood." Drerk said, closing his own omni tool.
"Was it Harris?"
"Yes. He said something about pulling out my good eyes to make a necklace that he will be selling to Blood Pack battle warlords."
"Wow." I shuddered at the mental image, closing my own omni tool. "I think we can say that he is more angry with you then. He just said something about hitting me so hard that even my entire offspring will feel it. "
"So let's not keep the old man waiting." He said, drinking the rest of the beer and furiously throwing the bottle against the wall. I followed the example, except for the last part when I started following him off the place.
Look ... the silence hanging in the air is so dense that it could be cut by a blind kitchen knife. I feel like a child who knows he has done something wrong and is waiting for the punishment of the parents.
As soon as we arrived, we found Harris in his apartment in better condition than before, but in compensation full of bodies from KOD members. Apparently ... I underestimated how competent Harris can be in a shootout. What followed afterwards was an awkward silence when I finally told them both what triggered this elaborate murder attempt against us.
When it didn't look like anyone was going to break the silence, I raised my head to face my old boss glaring at me.
"Harris… I-"
"Let me ask you just one question kid, a very simple question." He said in such a calm tone that he managed to make me nervous. "HAVE YOU JUST LOSE YOUR FUCKING SHIT OR WHAT YOU STUPID MORON!"
"I'm sorry."
"YOU'RE SORRY? FUCK…" He took a deep breath before continuing. "Mike, our lives are already quite complicated on their own. Then you go and decide to kill six drug dealers whose organization has weight on the planet."
"Well, it was a hell of feat in my opinion. I really thought he was just an FNG with no memories, I didn't think he had-" Drerk fell silent over Harris's glare.
"Why? "He asked, rubbing his temple.
"I think you missed the part where I mentioned that they would have killed you simply because they could." I defended myself. Hell, why do people react like that when I try to save their ass anyway?
"If you had stayed by I could have taken care of that." He gestured to the bodies in the apartment. Most were shot to death in the head, others with a cut throat. "Instead of that ... you put a target on our heads when you decided to act on your own kid."
"And how would you deal with them alone would have been any different? Besides the fact that it would just be you being chased instead of all of us. If that's your point, it sucks." I said impassively and that shut him up. "Yeah, that's what I thought. Look Harris, I wasn't going to let you deal with these idiots alone. Things have gotten out of hand and there's no point in complaining about it now."
"I agree with him there old man. At least in the last part. We are still in potential danger and talking about what shit could have been is not going to change that." Thanks Drerk. Mental note: buy him a drink later.
"Dear lord…" Harris gave an exasperated sigh, circling the apparently several with a thoughtful expression on his face. "Okay, I'm putting your stupidity aside for now. But don't think I'm going to let this shit go. As soon as we get this over, we are having a talk."
"Agreed." Although maybe I should consider hiding somewhere away from his rage later. "So… what are we going to do now? I don't know about you, but I'm not in the mood to have to constantly look over my shoulder. Well… more than usual."
"First thing to do is wash your face. I can tolerate the fact that you are ugly, but I won't tolerate the stench. That thing in your face is starting to smell." Drerk snarked, I just gave him a glare.
"There's a bathroom in the back kid. I don't know why the hell kissing a turian's intestines seemed like a good idea to you, but I could think better without that smell."
"Fuck. You. Two." I went to that bathroom, turning on the tap and rubbing the turian blood from my face. "What exactly are our options? Because waiting for them to kill us doesn't seem very charming."
"We can always get off the planet. If we add our savings together, we can get a one-way trip somewhere outside the terminus systems." Drerk said from the room. Leaving Chalkhos… it doesn't seem like a bad idea. The only thing the planet brought me was trouble.
"Guess what, I'm not running away just because some punks with guns came at my door. I'm not going to give up." There goes the trip off the planet, thanks Harris.
"Suggestions?" I asked, wiping my face and going back to the living room to find a very… determined smiling Harris. "Okay, now I'm scared. Do you have anything in mind or are you just smiling like a maniac to scare us?"
"What I have in mind is quite a simple kid. Let's arm ourselves, wait until nightfall, and then go to these idiots' territory near my workshop. Then we show them what happened when you mess with a ex marine." The conviction in his voice ... is very ... contagious. I would really feel like I could break into a base of criminal operations if I weren't the logical person I am.
"... are you suggesting that we just go out there and ... finish them or something? No offense, but it looks suicidal." I said.
"I don't want to hunt down all the KODs until extinction or something kid. I just want to cut off the head that controls our district and give them a warning." Harris replied.
"Even if we did, we don't have many guns or ..." they exchanged a knowing look before looking at me. Son of a bitch. "I think I will need to correct my statement, only I don't have guns and armor don't I?"
"It's Chalkhos Kane. Did you really think we would have lasted this long in this place without the least weaponry?"
"Yes?" The look Drerk gave me made it look like he was deciding whether to hit me or laugh. "I mean, how the hell am I supposed to know? It's not like you two mention it every five minutes or something."
"Just when I think you're starting to learn the rules." He shook his head.
"The armor is the least. If you brought that thing with you and considering your 'feat', do you think you can handle yourself?" Harris asked. If I can handle myself? Everything I did ... was the basis of adrenaline and the survival instinct I think. Although… hell, it would be stupid not to recognize that I have some proficiency in… killing.
This is very disturbing.
"Yeah, I think I can."
"Then we are settled. The kid goes to Kratus to grab some gear and you and me are going to prepare ours. We meet at the workshop at dusk. Now move your asses." He said, disappear inside the bedroom.
"Did he mention Kratus?"
"You will be very surprised." Drerk grinned. "Now come on, we have time to prepare until nightfall."
I just nodded, grabbing the assault rifle and following him to the exit. get armor to attack a band of cold killers ... where did I get myself into?
A walk back to the market district later and I had to dodge when two batarians came flying through the now broken window for the thousandth time. Okay, it was scary the first few times. Then quite funny and a source of entertainment on second. Now it's just getting old. Seriously, don't they ever learn?
"THAT'S WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU THINK YOU CAN TASTE MY DRINKS WITHOUT PAYING!" The batarian guys ran off when the furious krogan jumped through the hole in the glass. Is that a Claymore? Now this is new. I take back what I said before, it just got fun again. "RUN YOUR PYJAK! RUN AND SPREAD AROUND WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU TRY TO PLAY SMART IN MY BAR!"
I waited for Kratus to vent all his fury by firing madly several rounds of the claymore before I had the courage to approach the beast. A furious krogan can be quite dangerous terrain. Step in the wrong place and the next thing you'll know is that you've been reduced to nothing.
"Stupid thieves." He spat when the claymore seemed to overheat. "Next time, I'm just going to tear each one apart and display what's left as a warning."
"Now that's what I call making an entry." I raised my hands in surrender when Kratus turned to face me. "Relax. I only went out a few hours ago, what the hell did these guys do that pissed you off so much?"
"They tried to leave without paying for two glasses of whiskey." He snarled, entering the bar again.
"That whiskey must have been expensive." I murmured, watching the big hole in the glass as I passed through it and entered the empty bar. "But hey, did Harris… send you a message or something?"
"He said you needed supplies." Kratus replied, opening a bottle of what I imagine to be ryncol, taking a long drink. "Armor and perhaps some reasonably good guns."
"Right in the bull's-eye."
He gave a dry laugh before putting the bottle away and turning on his omni tool. The shelf containing most of the drinks parted soon afterwards, revealing a kind of sealed secret door.
Ok… this is impressive, I have to admit
"Okay, now that's really impressive." I said, somewhat impressed by the secret door. "I just hope that this is not the moment when you dress like a bat and say you are going to fight crime."
He stopped typing on the door console to look at me like an expression that practically shouted if I was stupid or something.
"I'm just kidding dude."
"Humans." He murmured, finishing typing and walking through the now unlocked door. I followed suit, walking down a corridor until finding myself in front of something that gaped at me
"Jesus fucking Christ!" I exclaimed when I found myself in front of a room with several weapons, mods and other equipment that I don't even recognize. Everything was on shelves or in sealed storage lockers. That aside from the crates that I'm sure have a lot more. "Kratus… this is for sure the most impressive and scary thing I've ever seen! You have an arsenal here that could take down a secret base or something ..."
"Benefits of still maintaining links with that bunch of butchers I hate to the core." He said, opening a locker. "The blood pack can be quite dishonorable, but they loot some interesting things in their operations."
"... so you were with the blood pack?" I asked Seriously, is everyone I know a member of any major organization? All that remains is Drerk to be an agent of Batarian hegemony or something like that.
"Bah, that was a long time ago boy. Almost two lives ago now." He chuckled dryly. "They still provide me with weapons and supplies to sell in exchange for a share. Greedy pigs."
"I know, nothing is free in this life as they say, isn't it?" I scratched the back of my neck. Do I ask or don't I ask? In the best scenarios he just tells a story or doesn't tell me anything. In the worst scenario ... I open a wound and lose my legs.
Fuck it. Curiosity ... it's a fucking fault that I need to correct.
"So what happened?"
"My interests and those of the group diverged and that's it." He replied impassively.
"Nothing is that simple, at least not with the blood pack." I pointed out. Well, at least not if the carnage sounds I hear every damn morning are any hints.
"Boy, this is my business. You don't ask and we're good. You push and I start to like you less and I'm more inclined to break your legs." He gave me a look over his shoulder. "Got it?"
I just nodded, swallowing. Certainly a nerve, a mental note not to mention it even so soon again.
Or never again.
"So, what about my stuff?"
"I was choosing well since it was Harris who paid for everything. Either he really likes you or you are involved in something. And taking account your annoying way for asking questions, I bet on the last one He said, removing something from the locker that he threw on a table in the corner of the room. "Here, take a look at this. It should be fine for whatever shit you face on this planet."
I approached to look at what was clearly the assassin armor of the first mass effect. Irony in its most distorted form, this was one of the first armors I ever got at the beginning of the game. Universe trying to make fun of me maybe? In addition to some marks on the chest plate, it was exactly as it was in the game. Except that way more badass considering that I am facing one and not seeing it through a TV screen.
"Elkoss Combine. Volus produce things of this caliber for everyone who can afford it on terminus systems. It's not something you'll see someone in the alliance wear, but it's reliable and will do the job." Kratus said, turning on his omni tool and scanning the armor. "Shields are fine, and the automatic medi-gel application system as well as the hud interface is working well. The magnetic plates-"
"Kratus, you don't have to play the salesman with me man." I cut him off, still keeping my eyes on the armor. "Just… help me put this thing on."
I looked at him, and even though I wasn't good at reading alien expressions I could see that he was struggling not to laugh.
"For my ancestors kid, will you want me to hold your hand to cross the street too?" He laughed. Okay, maybe I deserve it. I kind of walked right into it.
"I really don't know how to use it." I pointed to my head. "Disadvantages of not remembering who you are."
"Alright" that cut off the laughter, but he was still grinning. "Let's get you into that thing then."
Okay, Mike got his armor and some weapons that will go into action in the next chap… maybe ;)
I was not intending to maintain any update scales, but considering that while a good part of the population is sleeping I am working, I will be updating in my day off… maybe.
If you like it, review. Reviews are like fuel for me, always motivated me to keep going knowing that people are enjoying it.
O pior out
