"Y-you're so dead! If you kill me you're so dead! If you kill me the Middle will know! They'll never forget and they'll come and beat your asses even if you kill them—!"

Durandal pierced the tattoo'd woman's throat as Roland let out a groan. "-And the Middle and their affiliates will keep throwing themselves at us until we die or they run out. Yeah, I got it the first time."

They would, too. Or at least, they'd try. He'd tried his horns at the Middle before, and they had turned theirs on him. Kept on coming at him in droves, unwilling to cease. Until he'd killed all of them, that was. There was a certain limit any human could handle when the choice was activley walking into a meat grinder stronger than one of your greater siblings, or simply turning a blind eye and keeping your head on your shoulders. Still took a straight two weeks and sleepless night, persistent bastards.

He didn't like his chances against a finger right now though. He'd gotten a pretty good boost from the bloodfiends a week and some days ago, and another good boost from the twenty or so gang members here. He'd do well against a Grade seven in terms of physical strength, and could probably beat that old crippled version of Salvador that died protecting his two juniors back in the Library. So… grade four-ish.

While a less mature Roland might have gone to Hana to get a rank up, there was little reason to show all his cards and head to Hana for a bit of extra ahn. It would give some better paying jobs, and maybe he'd get approached by an association, but…

"Yo, Elena! Got another body!" Roland hauled the bleeding— and very much dead, especially after he cut off a portion of her neck— leader to the rest of the pile of bodies. "Looks like the last of them."

His little pet project, which was stopping the creation of the Blood-red Nights, had taken a bit more of a priority. He was doing his best to think long term for once, even if he wasn't too good at it. Elena's ability to reanimate bodies would end up being pretty useful, even if they burned in daylight, if the time every came where he needed to fight off a small army he'd have one of his own to back him up. Not that he really needed it, with the way Durandal worked the more things he got to hit the faster he won.

As well as having to watch over Elena, Roland didn't really feel like he fit in with the City anymore. The freedom he'd had as a color, even moreso during his rampage, and the cushy time he'd spent in the Library had really cracked him out of that mind set.

Roland's eyes turned down to the blood on Durandal. He was just another gear in the machine really, he just happened to be part of a different function than before.

"Thaaank you~" Elena quickly scooted onto the only body with more than a cup of blood in it, biting her fangs into the neck. Roland looked away before he could see any more, only the noises of skin shrivelling to an ashen texture like the rest.

He watched warily as more of the corpses re-animated under her fingers, tugging and straining without the essentials of life as they existed to her whims. "Careful not to let those things draw too much attention. Last thing we need is Liu or some zealot bloodfiend hunters on our tails…" Especially Seven. He needed to be on good terms with them if he ever wished to use their services– which he absolutely did. Seven association was the second most used association of the twelve, first being Zwei, which wholly depended on the Seven for half their jobs. Shi, Tres, even wings go to them for whatever they can't get on their own.

"Yeah yeah~ Heard you the first time. Don't you have anything better to do than drone on about how dangerous this place is for bloodfiends? I imagine most of that list applies to you; so shouldn't you start boarding this place up?" She referred to the rather destroyed three story building they were held up in. Windows had been smashed and blood painted the walls, the smell was wretched and the taste of it all made Roland sick.

"Carpenter now, am I? Don't even think they have anything to board the place up with." They could take apart tables and nail them to the windows. The problem came with the lack of nails. Maybe there was a Nagel und Hammer post nearby– or a workshop.

"Is this how all humans out here live? It's rather… quaint." She said with a tinge of uncertainty.

"Usually not. Only people who can't really afford a place or can't afford to be seen in public areas. If we had some more ahn…" He trailed off. He wanted to save as much as possible, so spending it on an apartment or hotel wasn't very attractive. "We should be good enough here. No rent at least."

Things were looking good. An ally– albeit one he was still a bit resigned in trusting– a well enough fort to set up a temporary residence in, and a grade eight fixer licence… Though, that was probably misplaced along with his jumper. Hah~ at least it shouldn't cost him too much to get a new one.

Fastening one of the cleaner rugged coats from one of the piles of bodies— which absolutely reeked– Roland took off with a handful of their newfound ahn.

Time for a little shopping trip. If he's lucky, it'll be a quick in and out. What's the worst that could happen?

They were by R-Corp's northern border. He knew a place that sold some good ham, so he might as well try and see if they still sold it.

[-]

A middle aged man, wearing a rather fancy trench coat peered though the yarn of this R-corp store. They always had the best; perhaps it was a product of their singularity, but it was durable and easy for the short knitting sessions he'd slowly adopted from his wife.

Picking out a shade of Friar Grey and Casal and putting them into his already stuffed shopping bag –filled with the groceries of the only store in warp-train spitting distance he'd been able to find– and rounded the corner into a sturdy young man, spilling the yarn and packaged produce awry from their bag. He would have scoffed, had he not quickly dropped down to pick up the items for him.

"Ah, thank you."

"It's nothing."

Salvador watched the young man— practically a boy— bend down to pick up some of the special R-corp ham his wife had sent him out to purchase. Judging by the ominous weapon on his hip, the confidence he walked with, and the blood staining his shirt, Salvador would have judged him a syndicate member, especially with the clearly stolen coat that hung from his shoulders. Yet the (relatively) professional clothing aside from that would have suggested otherwise, were he not so beaten and scraped. If he was clean, he would be wearing a fine white button-up, mixed alongside black belt, Salvador could imagine a clean two-piece suit. Yes, he'd look rather dashing in one too.

"Say, you're a fixer?" He inquired. His recently opened office, Dawn Office, had been solo-operating despite his best efforts. He has an eye for these things, and nobody had caught it. Until now. "What association are you with? That weapon seems quite fine for a boy your age." While he'd usually attribute over the top equipment to a rich wannabe upstart, the veteran look in this one's eyes told a much different story.

"Association? Wouldn't exactly say I've got requests piling up on my doorstep, but given that it's only my first week I'm not too surprised. I didn't steal it either, if that's what you're thinking." Salvador felt his eyes widen a little. Just his luck! This is the ideal fixer he'd just gotten his hands on, he could tell!

"Ah, well as a subsidiary office of Liu section 2," He gloated, "I'm actually rather drowned in requests. Those fiery chaps seem opposed to requesting the Seven, leaving smaller information offices, such as mine, with work aplenty. Something something, trickle down economics, one of the directors had told me". Bah, he never listened to those accounting chaps. He'd hired a handful of his own sure, but he was still a one man office— something he was intent on changing.

He changed to a more confused look, his mouth hanging a little before he shook his head. "I'm just a Grade eight. I don't even have my licence on me right now— lost against some thugs a while ago."

"Oho! Nonsense, my boy. I'm a perceptive sort, and I dare say I have a good eye for talent, and you reek of it. Frankly I'm quite jealous, and I'd be willing to pay a good amount to secure you'd be working in my office." The notion of pay rekindled the man's interest. "How does 15,000 ahn for your first month sound?"

"F-fifteen?!" Aha, a backstreets dweller too. That'd make the suit a hand-me-down perhaps. His weapon too; infact, judging by the state of the young man he might just be fresh out of deici! Hoho, what a catch.

"Indeed my boy! Hm, if you wish, address me as Salvador." He stroked his finely groomed blonde mustache. His jaw dropped even more. He didn't think he had much of a reputation in these parts, but perhaps he'd been a hot topic as of late. He had just defeated an Urban Nightmare phonomena afterall.

"I'm not sure." He put a hand, covered in dry blood behind his head. It was strangely shaped, slightly disfigured compared to his arm. Perhaps a strange augmentation. "Isn't there a bit more to it than this? Like contracts, tests… Or are we skipping that mile?"

"I have an eye for these things. Come, come. Let us discuss this over some food." Salvador had brought them to pay, hoping to gain some extra favour with the boy as he scanned twice.

"Oh— thanks, old man."

"Oi! I'm only thirty four." Salvador responded quickly, only to feel something in his shatter as he saw the boy's genuinely baffled stare. "I didn't think somebody so insensitive would catch my eye."

"No, sorry about that." He apologised, his hands in his pockets, a plastic bag locked around his arm. "It's just, you look like what I remember my old man to be. I guess thinking about where he is now brought that about. You'll still—"

"Haha! Of course I will. I was only pulling your leg boy. What's your name?" A worrier too– or perhaps something from his past he shouldn't pry into.

"Roland. It's er… Pleasure to make your acquaintance Salvador." They exited the store, a bit of a forced smile on his face as they did. The business type of smile, one you'd see at a store. A mask of sorts, Salvador would suppose.

"Ha, no pleasantries for an old man like me? Perhaps I need to step up on my appearance. The clothes make the man, as they say."

Their little banter continued back and forth for a while before Roland froze. "Ah… Hate to cut it short, but my—" His speech paused for a second in thought, "My cousin is waiting for me back home. It's just the two of us and she'll probably get worried or something."

"Ah, very well. It's the afternoon after all, crime sends to be the highest at this time, especially if you're, say, hiding out somewhere less than savoury." Salvador hinted. The clothes were telling enough. This boy wasn't staying somewhere liveable.

"You really do have good perception… Damn." He scowled, taking a hand from his pocket and scratching the back of his head. "So what? You're from a nest I'm guessing? I'd suggest not tailing me back to my place."

"Hoho, tailing? Why so sceptical, Roland? If you so wish I might be able to set you up with a comfortable apartment somewhere among the V-corp backstreets." He noted. "I'm willing to go an extra mile for you, but getting you into a nest is beyond me. I will follow you to your residence, if you'd allow me?"

Roland has a thoughtful look on him for a few seconds. "Eh, listen… The girl there is… Strange you could say. Eccentric really. She's from 23, lived her life there and… Well, she's pretty adamantly sticking to her traditional way of life."

Ah, that… certainly complicated things.

And gave Salvador a better picture of Roland's character.

"With any luck she's as skilled as you are?"

"She's smart for sure. Good knack and instinct for combat too, but I wouldn't say it's her forté. You'll erh… Hah~ yeah guess I'll bring you along. Yeah you'll see when we get there. Just try not to be too disgusted when we see it."

~~~

"You're right."

"About her being eccentric, her having potential, or us living in the worst place in the backstreets?"

"About me being disgusted." Salvador had taken to pinching his nose, but the pungent smell still lingered and he could taste the smell of horrendously rotting corpses through his mouth every time he opened to speak. How Roland was not gagging was beyond him.

"Ooh and who's this? You know I like my ingredients dead, Arnold." A woman descended from the ceiling, wearing blood stained clothing that seemed both too small and large for her. Blood stained her lips, like Roland —Or Arnold, was it?— had said it would. Interestingly enough, she had a demeanour far opposite of her cousins, seeming more casual and laid back from the way she dropped down from the ceiling along a pile of…

"One moment please."

Salvador stepped outside to temporarily relieve his lungs and mouth of the foul stench of overwhelming death that accompanied the two in that place, fearing for his wife's lovingly made breakfast if he'd spent a moment longer looking at that rope of knotted intestines she'd rappelled down on.

Salvador took another moment to realise he'd probably been fed a fake name. He wouldn't call himself gullible by any means but he had just been lured out to a rundown two-storey abandoned building that reeked of blood… He was a grade one anyhow, he doubted too much could happen to him.

After bracing himself and forcing down his body's repulsion, he stepped back in to find the two having some light banter. They certainly seemed close enough, and if Roland's (Arnold's?) words were to be believed, she might make a good addition to his office too…

Or perhaps not.

He was met with the woman pulling forward a walking body, a dead look on the corpses' face as it wondered around aimlessly, without reason until she clapped her hands and it fell flat on its face. Was she a wing experiment? He'd suggest mind control, but… The gore stained ceiling and walls said reanimation.

"Might I ask the name of this young lady?" Salvador turned to Roland.

"Oh, right. That's Elena. Eccentric like I said. And sorry about the mess. I kind of assumed she'd be done by now," He seethed, "But she was a bit of an outcast before..." Before he'd taken her in… hmm.

"Perhaps I can find room in Dawn Office for somebody of her caliber." If she could control bodies… Any corpse ? That left her brimming with more potential than this young man. Even if her character was brought into question, she may very well be worth the risk. "Say, young lady?"

"Hm?" Her blood-red eyes turned to him as her neck twisted away from her… creation(?) and toward him. "Oh right. Who are you?"

"Salvador. It's a pleasure." He grit his teeth, extending his hand for a hand shake. She stared at it, shrugged, and leaned in with her mouth wide open— fangs bared. Salvador was interested in seeing what exactly she was about to do. He doubted those surprisingly sharp teeth would pierce his bionic skin, but Roland grabbed her by the hair and yanked her head up.

"Ow! Hey what the hell! He's just offering me—"

"He's offering you a handshake Elena. Give him your hand." She huffed and gave him a dirty look before looking back at his hand and placing her own in it. Salvador chuckled a little —she'd placed the wrong hand into his— and shook her hand up and down.

"And I suppose you're in need of a Fixer's licence?"

She gave a little opened mouth hum before Roland cut in. "Yep. Her past is all solitary and private stuff."

'Don't look into it' , basically. Salvador had to acknowledge the setting however. "I don't suppose you… legally purchased this building?"

"We murdered it's – mmfh—!"

Roland quickly stuffed her mouth with a roll of toilet paper. "We found everybody dead in this place, and decided it would be good for her if she got some practice in. As you can see, she has… a special skill set. It just so happened that we needed a place to stay."

Ha. A thoughtful and responsible man with his brash and forward cousin? What a dynamic.

"It's fine to say you killed them, boy. In fact, I'm hoping you did. Having at least a little proof you can carry your own weight would definitely help soothe some souls back at the office." Salvador stroked his chin thoughtfully. Some of the clerks and servicers would often worry for him, being the sole benefactor of the Dawn office was not an easy task, and relied a whole amount more on him than any of them were comfortable with.

He'd test the water with some light sparring in a safer environment. They were a stones' throw away from a WARP station, and whilst he couldn't bring them into V Nest to live for migration, he could allow them work. Getting them somewhere close wouldn't be too much hassle.

"See, Arnold? We need to take pride in our work!" She flourished, doing a pretty twirl and spreading her arms out. "We indeed murdered these cretins and cleared out the building for our own gain." She said smugly, shooting another look to… Arnold? He'd have to confirm later, misunderstandings happen at times and perhaps the store's music had simply caused a misinterpretation in his speech.

"Well then, Elena, Arnold. I suppose I shall have to delve into my account to purchase two more WARP tickets. Hoho."

He couldn't afford first class for them, but as a Grade 1 he himself got on for the low, low price of free. How convenient.