"Right," 2D went on, turning away from the Strip gate and walking towards the Mormon fort. "As you might have noticed at this point, a lot of Freeside residents struggle with addictions."

"You're from Reno, you know how that works," Eddie added, as he and the other two followed.

"Among those men are two qualified workers that could immensely benefit our community should they be convinced to kick their habits," 2D went on. "Bill Ronte, an engineer, and Jacob Hoff, a chemist. I want you to speak with them, and convince them to seek treatment for their addictions."

There was a niggle in the back of Haru's mind. She didn't expect a trap of any kind, but she thought she's missing a few pieces of the puzzle. "Why haven't you dealt with that before?"

"Different obligations, I'm sorry to say," 2D sighed. "I work double shifts to keep the Followers' operations afloat, and even now I am offering you this task so I can earn some funds elsewhere. I ended up postponing this matter for longer than I should have, and I cannot afford to do that any longer."

"I checked up on the guys this morning," Dee said. "They are wrecks. You know how Jet was made to get people hooked quickly?"

"Was it?" Haru said. "I, um, don't know much about drugs. Father would go spare if he had seen me under influence."

"Well, what Dee described is a prevalent hypothesis," 2D glanced at his friend. "Considering both its effects on the human organism and the fact it originated in, or was recreated by, the New Reno underworld."

"It screws up people fast," Dee said. "But still slower than whatever these two are taking."

"Honestly, if you just found the asshole that sells them this garbage and bonked him with your axe-"

"Eddie!" 2D protested.

"What?" Eddie shrugged. "Whoever's selling them their drugs is evil or stupid enough to slowly kill them with their shit. Getting him off the streets sounds like a good thing to me!"

2D inhaled air through his nose, then turned to Haru. "I would recommend avoiding violence unless no other options are available, for your own peace of mind if nothing else."

"I will do my best," Haru promised. "Where can I find the guys?"

"It's been a few hours ago, but I don't think they moved anywhere." The group reached the junction near the Kings' School of Impersonation. Dee pointed vaguely in the direction of the Atomic Wrangler. "Bill Ronte was in that wrecked house behind the Wrangler. Jake Hoff was squatting in that husk opposite Mick and Ralph's, near where we talked with Santiago. "

"Coincidentally, I planned to head towards Mick and Ralph's now," 2D said. "They always have some machinery I can refurbish for pocket change."

"Dee and I will hit the Wrangler to kick back," Eddie added. "So pick the guy you wanna talk to first and someone will walk you to him."

Haru glanced towards the bar. "Might as well speak to Mr. Ronte first since I'm already here."

"Very well then," 2D said. "I don't plan to depart Freeside again today, so locating me when you're done shouldn't be a problem. Good luck, Miss Okumura," he nodded at her, then turned around and marched through the bus barricade.

"Follow me," Dee proclaimed, walking into the side street, between the Silver Rush and Atomic Wrangler criers.

"No, follow me!" Eddie protested, as he and Haru marched behind Dee, past some boarded up shops and dirty walls.

There was an intersection on the road, and both roads led to a different dead end, each blocked off by a barricade of destroyed cars and scrap metal. By the corner of that intersection was a slightly (by the standards of Freeside) damaged building with a massive neon sign above it, reading "SILVER RUSH". The entrance to it was guarded by a threatening-looking armored man with a two-handed energy weapon standing next to a metal footlocker, glancing intently at Haru specifically. She was new in the area and he didn't know what to expect of her.

Opposite the Silver Rush was a single unboarded door next to a smashed up display window, above which was hanging a sign almost as tall as the three story building it was attached to, topped with a neon of a cowboy riding an atom and waving his hat around, reading "ATOMIC WRANGLER CASINO". The sign was the most visually remarkable thing about the building – okay, all of its windows were smashed and the walls were crumbling a bit in places, but that was how most buildings in this area looked like.

"Go past there and to the right," Dee said, pointing in that direction. "If there's trouble, hit us up."

"Of course we're gonna take a cut of the earnings for our assistance," Eddie grinned. "It'll be worth it though. Good luck, kiddo."

He gave her a thumbs up and he and Dee walked into the bar. Haru wondered for a moment if that was a joke on his part or not – this world was definitely more ruthless than what she was used to. Deciding to err on the side of caution, she marched towards where Bill Ronte was located.

"Excuse me, Mr-" She turned a corner and code-switched in shock. "...ara yada."

There was a man sitting on some kind of improvised bedding, surrounded by empty glass bottles. He was wearing a white shirt and copiously-patched suspenders, and had a scraggly beard and a messy combover of thinning black hair. There was also an unspecified odor coming off of him, one that made Haru think of the compost pile in her garden two and a half centuries away and she didn't want to think about the implications of that.

"Uh… Ronte-san?" she asked, not quite switching back to English.

The guy raised his head and looked at her with a blank stare. He squinted a bit, intimidated by the axe in her hands. "Buh… who are you?"

Haru leaned her axe against a crumb of a wall, away from her. Defaulting to generic politeness, she bowed slightly. "Greetings, my name is Oku-ghk, Haru Okumura. Are you Mr. Ronte?"

The man responded with a vaguely confirmatory grunt.

"I am here on behalf of Mr. Sklodowski."

"Huh?"

"I mean 2D. He asked me to… speak with you."

"Ah, 2D." Bill mumbled to himself. "He's a good kid. Dunno where he got the strength to work so hard for the Followers."

"Right, right." Haru realized that she had absolutely no idea how to approach the topic, and so decided to go for the unsubtle option. "Mr. Ronte, have you considered, uh, not drinking?"

Bill just looked at her for a moment. "I tried," he muttered. "But the withdrawal kicked in and I thought I'm gonna die. I can't stop now."

Haru paused for a second. "Is…" She wondered for a second if she should've minced her words. "Is withdrawal worse than an early grave?" Her voice was as gentle as it could be when delivering a line like this. "Worse than dying in your own filth, alone and unmourned?"

Bill just stared at her, unsure. The answer to her question didn't seem as clear-cut to him as it was to her. At the same time, he didn't tell her to sod off just yet, and so Haru decided to give him another nudge:

"I have it on good authority that if you agree to seek treatment, it will be given to you free of charge," she said. "And I admit, I am… spoiled, in many ways. A city slicker with zero experience with quote-unquote normal people problems. But I had to fight back against the world dragging me down. Sometimes… to the death," she added, gesturing at her resting axe. "I know recovery will be hard, and it won't be glamorous, but I promise you, sir… fighting back is worth it. And it feels better than surrendering." After a pause, she outstretched her hand. "I can help you stand up."

Bill stared at her for a moment, mulling it over. Finally, lacking confidence that the five-foot-two teenager in front of him would be able to support him, he leaned against the wall and rose to his feet with difficulty. He struggled a bit to keep his balance, but in the end he managed to stand unsupported. Unconfident, he turned to Haru again: "Lady, would you be so kind and… walk me over to the Followers' camp?"

"Of course," Haru nodded enthusiastically. She grabbed her axe and the two, very slowly, marched to the Mormon fort.

The gate of the Fort cracked open, and Haru and Bill Ronte entered. "Mrs Farkas!" Haru called. "I have another patient!"

Julie turned towards the newcomers and her eyes widened slightly. "Bill!" She dropped whatever she was focusing on and trotted up to him. "Are you here to seek treatment?"

"The girl here convinced me it's better than croaking in my own piss."

Jule wasn't bothered by the crassness. "I am glad you made that decision." She pointed towards the corner of the fort. "Could you please step into the medical room and wait for me there?"

Bill nodded and shuffled away towards the door. Haru and Julie watched him enter the room. "This is the first step of a long journey, but I am glad he took it," Julie remarked, before glancing at Haru. "I greatly appreciate your help."

"Don't mention it, ma'am," Haru waved her off. "2D simply hired me to do this for him."

"Should Bill kick the habit, his expertise with machines is worth more than whatever 2D offered you." Julie retorted. "I cannot offer much myself, but I will speak with the Kings to grant you unlimited access to the Freeside water pump."

Haru tilted her head slightly. "...the Kings restrict access to clean water?"

Julie sighed. "It's part of the tensions I had mentioned. The water pump is… well, it connects to the NCR-maintained water network. They don't care about it for now, but some restrictions have to be in place to avoid pushing our luck. Unfortunately, the pump is controlled by the Kings and their method of control is charging the NCR squatters for use. Ironic, considering it was restored and maintained by Ronte, who is Californian himself."

"And like you said, the people will just assume I'm from the NCR," Haru added. "Could I ask for a small favor?"

"What is it?"

"I've got a few of my friends… somewhere out there. They're from the same underground bunker as I am, so to speak. Could they get access to that water as well if they end up here?"

There was a slight scowl on Julie's face. "And how many friends do you have?"

Haru quickly counted on her fingers. "Six." Beat. "Seven if you count a cat."

"I can work with that," Julie nodded, curious – cats were extinct on the West Coast as far as she could tell, but maybe her Vault or whatever had some pets preserved. "Now, you have already done more than expected, but I have to ask – will you speak with Jacob as well?"

"That's the plan, yes."

Axe resting on her shoulder, Haru marched towards the Freeside east gate, towards the last known location of Jacob Hoff. Long story short, he hadn't moved from it. He was in a position mostly similar to how Haru had found Bill Ronte, but with three differences to him – one, Jacob was surrounded by empty inhalers instead of empty alcohol bottles, two, he seemed a bit twitchy in a way Ronte wasn't, and three, his beard was more of a tuft of hair that hung to his chin.

He noticed Haru approaching and greeted her, after a fashion: "Do you have any chems, miss?"

"Um, no," she replied. "Mr Hoff, right? I'm here on behalf of 2D, to ask you to seek help for your addiction."

He scoffed in response. "Why stop? I feel great and young, as long as I get my fix."

"And when you don't get it, you sit in your own filth and beg strangers for more drugs," Haru countered. "There are people concerned about-"

"If I wanted to be moralized, I would've gone to the Followers," he said, a hint of hostility in his voice. "Get lost."

That… complicated things. Haru briefly considered smacking him with the axe handle to get him to cooperate, but decided against it for the time being. "Very well then, adieu," she bowed, then turned around and left.

She didn't walk far away – she just retreated out of Hoff's sight and ducked into a ruin between the outer Freeside wall and Mick and Ralph's. There, she sat on the staircase, and leaned back a bit to stare at the cloudless sky above her.

She blew her shot with Hoff himself, but she didn't want to admit defeat just yet. It wasn't even about losing half the payment, she just didn't want to leave him to rot. She was a good person like that. Her thoughts circled back to the idea of forcing him to attend rehab at axepoint, but even if she could've convinced herself it was for his own good, she'd probably end up having to watch him 24/7 to make sure he wouldn't relapse, and that wasn't an option when her friends were out there somewhere. Then, maybe… he had to get his drugs from someone. If she could figure out who and then have a few choice words with the assh-

"Is she dead?"

Haru straightened back up and saw two kids in front of her. A girl and a boy, dirty, in tattered clothes, no older than ten years old each. There was some sorta raygun hanging from the boy's belt and Haru prayed to whatever benevolent deity was listening that it was fake.

It was a real-ish gun, though useless on its own, but let's not get sidetracked even harder.

"Nope, still alive," said the boy. "You're new here, aren't you?"

"Yes, I came to town earlier today," Haru politely replied. An idea bloomed in her head – the kids were locals, nobody seemed to be paying attention to them, maybe they managed to learn something she would want to know. "You two kids play around here a lot, don't you?"

"What's it to you?" asked the girl.

"It depends. You know that man that, uh, sits in that building across Mick and Ralph's?"

"You mean the junkie?" the boy asked.

On some level, Haru was grateful she didn't have to worry with euphemisms anymore. "Yes, the junkie. Mr. Hoff. Do you know who's selling him drugs?"

The girl opened her mouth, but the boy butted in: "Quiet, Stacey!" He then turned back to Haru. "I will tell you, for a million caps."

Haru failed to suppress a chortle.

"Okay, a thousand," the boy crossed his arms. "But that's my final word!"

"Hm." Haru assumed a serious expression. She was a bit too sheltered to be good with children, but she knew plenty when it came to bartering for a better deal. "What is your name, young man?"

"I'm Max."

"Well then, Max," she went on, "as a heiress of a prestigious family, I value accurate information, and reward intelligence handsomely. But I cannot just go around offering rates for loyal employees to new hires." She reached into her pocket and pulled out both a bottle cap baggie and a baby blue wallet she had brought over from her time. "Allow me to make a counter-offer: ten bottle caps and a collector's item." She reached into her wallet and pulled out a 5000-yen banknote. "A centuries-old banknote from across the world."

The kid looked at the piece of paper in her hands. "You're pulling my leg, miss."

"No, I'm honest!" She showed him the note and pointed at some romaji on the back. "Nippon Ginko. Bank of Japan. Authentic Japanese currency."

The kid picked the bill up and spun it in his hands, pretending like he knew how to confirm its authenticity. "Alright, miss." He pointed behind herself. "Peek around the corner"

Max and Haru poked their heads out, unnoticed by the few people on the street. "That guy leaning against the wall?" he whispered. Indeed, a dirty man in a sleeveless coat over a T-shirt, with a baseball cap with goggles on top, was leaning against a wall and staring at nothing in particular. "That's Dixon. That's the guy that sells Hoff the chems."

The two ducked into the destroyed building again and Haru reached into her cap baggie. "Thank you. Here's the agreed payment, with a little extra," she dumped fifteen caps into his hand.

Max and Stacey stared at the money in the former's hands, with that awe that kids treat pocket change that was theirs and nobody else's. "You know, miss, we know more about that Dixon guy," said the boy.

"Yeah!" Stacey nodded. "Like, he's mostly selling to two specific guys. He sells Jet to that guy in that building, and he also sells whiskey to some other guy that was squatting near the Wrangler."

Haru assumed, mostly correctly, that 'Jet' was the street name of some drug. "Some other guy? You mean Bill Ronte?"

"I think so," Stacey shrugged. "Dark hair, combover, messy beard."

"And- and one more thing!" Max piped up. "Dixon sells them his stuff on tab! That's weird, right?"

"Yeah…" Haru muttered. "Thanks, kids. If anyone asks, we never spoke."

Max and Stacey took that as a hint to get out and play elsewhere, leaving Haru alone to mull over what she had learned. That last thing was weird. Drug dealers don't deal drugs for the love of their bloody craft, and if Dixon wasn't doing that for money, then what was his deal?

A persistent thought in her brain kept telling her it wasn't important. Dixon was slowly killing people with his shitty drugs, that was the only detail that mattered. Bonk him in the head until he stops being a problem one way or another. But another thought kept telling her she might be missing some important information. And she wasn't willing to get her hands bloody without a good reason.

Finally, she decided. She got up from the stairs, grabbed her axe, left the ruined building, marched past Dixon, and entered Mick and Ralph's.

"Good afternoon," she greeted the guy at the counter, "I need to speak with Mr. Sklodowski. Is he present?"

"Hey kid," the shopkeep replied. "He's in the back, by the workbench."