An elven man drunkenly shuffled up and down a dark alleyway in the early Elgelican evening. His head lolled a bit as he sidled, quite heavily, from limb to limb.

The blind alley in question was the first acceptable locale near the Highland Cask. No real vantage from above, and only one way in. The man still wore neon blue paint on his face, but the black eye patch was new, as was the embedded camera.

Jon watched the video feed in his HUD while gazing down across the enchanting evening bustle. He was alone, leaning on the balustrade of a second-story wooden walkway.

“Master, this is decidedly disgusting! I swear upon the gods, I will never owe you another favour!”

“Now, look who’s making false pledges.”

“How about you try sticking your hand up a dead, rotting chicken and then make it walk!”

“I can’t believe you just compared your fellow elf to a chicken! Have you no respect for the late Mr Finger!”

“Oh, the gall! I would not do this, even for Master’s sake, were there no other way.”

The investigation, just like Mr Finger, was at a dead-end. The arrow could have been randomly or specifically chosen. It was merely a data point but nowhere enough. Tsarra had given them better bearings, but there was no guarantee they were the same insidious powers.

Chances were high though, and Jon had a wicked flyfishing idea he wanted to try out. Hence why cold and heavy-of-hand Light-Finger ambled once more on the streets of Elgelica.

Kay was nearby, pretending to browse a street-level store. Her transmission range was actually pretty good if not that articulate. Also, with Finger not very alive anymore, her efficiency had taken a hit. Had they waited any longer even this much would not be possible. Zombie-finger’s liquescing innards gave him the grace of a sack of potatoes regardless of his ‘empty’ stomach.

“Min? Are you in chat?”

“Hey there, Kel!” Fresh blood was always lovely to have, and Finger naturally didn’t count. Neither did Ril for that matter. Fuck that bitch, no wait; I take that back. Multiverse forgive me!

“How goes ‘Finger’s return’ on the informant network?”

“Faelyn was hard to convince, but he leaked the info this morning. The network should be well saturated by now.”

Informants, as the name implied, sold information, and when you had one main product, more buyers was always better; nothing stayed secret forever. Eventually, the cat got out of the bag. To prevent this, sometimes they killed the cat while still in the bag and then burned the remains. Jon did not want to be that cat, so he was making the first move. In this case, he was making a corpse move.

Zombie Finger had both a camera and a mic installed in the eye patch. The video was piped to their HUDs so that all parties could see, everyone except Finger of course.

“Master, why have we shirked subtlety? I am getting looks with this visor on. And the heels on these boots are a bit high for comfort; they are also quite the cumbersome affair. You are fortunate I am strong even without focus.”

Badass Kay, he couldn’t deny it. The prospect of seeing her gear in action filled him with delight. This must be what Alphas chased after.

“We have backing from Seph, and Phase One quarantine comes down in a few weeks. Phase Two is benchmarking and testing.”

Ril spoke. “What he means my feisty little Kay is that we want to push this world hard and fast. See where her limits lie, play hard, and go a little loco.”

“Ril-chen, please don’t take this the wrong way, but sometimes you make less sense than Master.”

Jon smiled. “I’m trying to scientifically quantify your world’s magic system. That means playing with its mechanics and seeing what works. This knowledge has become more tactically valuable than subtlety as of now. Not to mention more lucrative.”

“Ah, thanks for reminding me, Kel.” Ril’s HUD chat icon blinked as she spoke. “We gotta start getting better video.” A ruffling sound followed by many insectoid buzzing noises could be heard on Ril’s end before dispersing.

“You brought cam flies?”

“‘Course Kel, production-value is very important! Fear not, my Treat; they’ll stick to the action and privacy laws.”

“‘Kam flies’?” They were Beta and Alpha tech; even most Gamma civs would be no wiser. For some reason, he trusted Ril not to abuse their use, though he could not, for the life of him, think why.

“They’re cameras in the form of average-looking flies. Can capture high resolution and high-speed video. With the right software—uh, incantation—you can also sift the noise of their wings from the sound. In short, Ril wants to make us into movie stars.”

“I have mixed feelings on this, Master.”

“That you should, Kay, that you should.”

“Aww, you two are no fun! But if it’s just for us, that’s fine too. We’ll discuss it later, mkay.”

Pragmatism landed somewhere in the middle; a bit of limelight gave them throwing weight and justified exclusivity. There was all sorts of branding bullshit that came into the mix. Marketing and PR: hot and steamy subjects!

Fuck it, more kak for future Jon and Ril to sort. Let him enjoy the ride for now.

“We can go over the ‘details’ when I give you that ‘massage’ Kel.”

Bliksemse fok, if other women sent signals, then Ril was sending laser beams. He just wished she would stop masturbating in the shower, or at the very least stop moaning so loud. Either way, a white whale cometh and he doubted Kay had the tools nor seafaring know-how to harpoon the bitch.

Dear lord, he was fucked, and he was going to get fucked. Why couldn’t she have been ascetic? But that was a stupid idea, who made video game characters to join a nunnery?

Mercifully, someone finally moved into the alley to face Zom-Finger. “We have contact, ready positions, girls.”

The camera angle was tilted, given the dead man’s neck didn’t work so good no more, but the sound was perfectly fine.

“I was certain I put you down Light-Finger. Yet, you survive only to be far too dumb flee the city. This time, rest assured I will do a thorough job.”

Mr Finger didn’t reply; he needed lungs and breath for that. A half shuffle was all he managed before an arrow found his skull, jerking the camera violently.

“Play dead, let him approach.”

Kay acquiesced, and the camera rolled up to an early evening sky, the microphone registering a meaty thud as skull hit cobblestones. They heard the steps as the dark silhouette loomed into view. Visuals were not ideal, given the gloom. Conversely, it also hid Mr.Finger’s terminal condition.

The dead elf was not without his final gifts either. Each hand was gloved with simple radio trackers placed in the palms. Their adhesive faces were mounted outward on light cradles ready to hitch a ride. The shadowed man knelt, gleaming knife in hand. They got a better view, but that was not the point.

“Now!” said Jon.

Mr Finger did his final undead duty, lurching up to slap a boot and limb with each hand. Hopefully, one tracker would stick. The shocked man frantically dug his dagger deep into Finger’s chest, again and again, eventually gasping for breath.

“That’s was wonderfully done, Kay.”

“Never again, Master!”

“At least not until the next set of bows.”

“You conniving man!”

He chuckled, teasing Kay was fun. “Alright, my necromantic novice move in and give the rat a scare. He’s got a maze to run.”