Act 2 Intermission:
The Interloper's Second Play
The Interloper walked down the bleached and barren halls of the Togami building, split off from the group who had allowed them to walk here. Their steps reverberated off the blank walls, seemingly carried by the uncanny cleanliness of the walls. The interloper began to sweat, their teeth grinding against one another feeling naked and exposed, the fluorescent lights stinging their skin, burning his skin. They controlled their breathing and continued to walk their path around the empty hallways, looking for an abandoned desk they could access.
"Why do you need a worm to siphon the money from the Togamis anyway? C-Can't it just pay off what you want?"
"Money is not merchandise. Money does not strike emotion into your heart. Figures on a screen are worth less than blood on the floor. The upkeep costs for our little shell will mean the stolen cash is more than enough."
The Interloper happened upon an employee information desk, abandoned like most everything in this lonely utopia. They ran their thumb around the flash drive in their pocket, no more than the size of his fingernail. They grasped it with trembling fingers. Suppose it was imperfect? Suppose the programmer overlooked something. People tended to do that when they had metaphorical guns to their heads. The Interloper was told to believe, to trust, but only in their superiors. Without a chance to compute what they were doing, they jammed the flash drive into the USB port of the PC at the information desk and breathed a sigh of relief, feeling as if he were Atlas released from holding up the heavens. They quickly turned on their heel and made for one of the lifts, not wanting to look back. There was only the bloody future. And a few last people on the hitlist.
"But… can we be sure this goes off without a hitch…? Should we even use the shell to our advantage? Could this whole thing just be called off?!" "It could always encounter a few minor alarms without being entirely jeopardized. In the case, the long and twisted means will reach and ends that will be soaked in no-one's blood, but built on the blood of the mind."
In the server banks of Togami Industries, a small worm began weaving its way to the bank account of a few employees of the company. They wouldn't need their pensions, surely. And so there it lay, striking when funds were required.
The Interloper once again walked into the smog and haze of the city. It felt real, tangible like stepping into a whole new dimension. They felt waves of relief wash over them, just happy to escape the oppressing austerity that enshrouded the Togami building. As the everymen of the streets walked beside them, hardly giving them a thought, never mind a glance, they felt safe. The Interloper found themselves basking in the greyness of the sky, the cold concrete, and tarmac of the pavements. Reality was cold, colourless and depressing – but it was also reality. Something one could root themselves in, find solace in, something obtainable and always within reach. And so The Interloper anchored themselves to it, for leaving reality was not in their interests. The poisonous industry air was sweet perfume.
Once again, The Interloper paid for a ticket on the machine, shouldered through the swathes of humanity that surrounded them and hopped on the monorail. As it thundered and sped down its track, The Interloper reflected on what they had done. They would be found guilty of so many crimes if this ever reached the light of day. But they were too far stepped in that to go back was to be as arduous as going forward and they were assured of their crimes being held from the sunlight forevermore.
"And supposing I get caught? What then?!"
"That is highly unlikely, but should it happen… the influence we hold will ensure you appear back in our custody in no time at all. Remember, you are as if a brave revolutionary, fighting for the land they love so much, patriotic zeal spurring them to their goal. I believe it was Shakespeare who once wrote the line 'screw your courage to the sticking-place and we shall not fail!'"
The Biker gang of the Crazy Diamonds and the Kuzuryuu crime family both represented serious threats to The Interloper's cause, mainly because of their influence and how easily they could find out about what The Interloper and their superiors were planning. But when told how to deal with this threat, The Interloper felt sick to their stomach. They stood on a bridge, a point where one Crazy Diamonds member often walked past on their daily routine. Their arms touching the cold steel barricades that would prevent the clumsy, the young or the suicidal from pitching onto the motorway below gnashed at their skin, the thin coat of ice smothering it would surely hurt to abscond from. Blurry, fast streaks of light from every make of car imaginable passed beneath their feet, seemingly trying to outrun the now setting winter sun which no longer began to cast its rays upon the land. The lampposts gave off a bright light that was harsh on the eyes, yet comforting in a way The Interloper could not describe. Intertia rushed at them as he recalled the earlier conversation.
"At 4:12 pm, Tsuyuniko Hisoi of the Crazy Diamonds will be walking across that bridge." Their superior passed them a compressed can of spray paint and a stencil with the spiral logo of the Kuzuryuu clan. "This," they passed him a small device in a box just big enough to fit in his pocket. It had a large grey button in its centre and blended into the concrete of the city. "Is a very small scale explosive device, that concentrates its blast upwards in a spike. It will not trip off any metal detectors, nor will it cause any structural damage to the bridge. Noise is… minimal as far as explosives go and we've tested it rigorously. The only thing you need to do is lay it on the ground where Hisoi will walk and wait. When he is no more than a memory on the pavements, take the spray can and stencil the emblem of the Kuzuryuus upon what remains of his body. You might want to be quick getting away." The Interloper's superior paused for thought, thinking about their masterstroke. "The two organizations will be too occupied with one another to bother wondering why two of their members are not bothering to return home. You, my friend..." The Interloper's superior smirked.
"are going to ignite a war."