《Sola: Harvest of Souls - A Cyberpunk LitRPG》8.1
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A white box with a red bow was passed to a young man who placed it into his car and drove it through the city to an abandoned department store. The box was left with a card at the front door. Then the young man left.
The box sat there for a time, until finally Darius came outside and found it. Flies buzzed around the box, and a slightly sweet pungent odor came through. A card sat on top emblazoned with an iridescent “D”.
Darius’s imagination ran away from him, presenting all of the worst case scenarios. He picked up the card with a shaking hand and began to read.
“Dear Preature,
Please accept this gift with my profound condolences.
You have one last chance. The rest of the Vens have been fired from this job. Bring me Darius Byun, and all will be forgiven.
Good day,
Del Peck”
Preature appeared behind Darius, and received the card from him.
“I haven’t opened the box yet,” Darius said with the shadow of fear washing over his cybernetic eyes.
Preature rested a hand on Darius’s shoulder. “I’ll open it, son.”
Preature bent down sorely, releasing the bow, and lifting the lid to see Leary’s bloodied head sitting in a bed of fresh hydroponic roses. He stood to full height, removing his glasses, and pinching a thumb and forefinger over the bridge of his nose. He replaced his glasses, a fist forming from his free hand. Then he brought the box inside.
Moments later, the team gathered in their makeshift meeting room. CURL dabbed at her eyes with a tissue, lips pulled back in disgust and anguish. Tinker stood stoically silent in the back corner of the room. Darius sat with Preature next to the box.
“I, uh…” Preature started. “This happened because of me. Darius had warned us and I kept us there. This proves to us who we’re dealing with. We can’t let Del have Darius. We did the right thing there, at least.”
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“The right thing?” Darius spoke through clenched teeth. “Not to protect me. You just want what I have. My cybernetics, and the files inside; which you’d known about and never mentioned!”
“That’s right. I knew about the files. How did you learn about them?” Preature asked.
“The P-Sec that you put down. He said there are files in the cybernetic parts, for some secret project.”
“Yes, there are. And I didn’t want you to know, because I didn’t want you to think it’s the only reason we kept you around,” Preature explained.
“But it is, isn’t it? What did you think was on the files?”
“Designs for your cybernetics,” Preature answered darkly. “I could have sold you, kid! I could have made a mil off of you, but I didn’t because you’re a survivor! Anyone who’s lived through what you’ve been through deserves a second chance, and I didn’t think Del would have done that for you.”
CURL shouted over them, “Enough! Both of you! Preature, you did think there was money in Darius. Darius, Preature did save you from Del! So both of you calm down. Now is not the time.”
“CURL’s right. I did see money in your cybernetics, and I did wonder about turning you over to Del. I couldn’t do it. You deserve better than what he would have done to you,” Preature sat down heavily, favoring his injured side. Then he raised a hand to CURL to signal that he was done.
“We were too late. We could have gotten him if we went right away,” Tinker lamented. CURL moved over to him.
“Preature needed your help. He’d been shot. We couldn't do both,” she spoke in a reassuring tone. “We thought we’d have more time. We thought we’d have the chance to track him.”
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CURL, Darius, Preature and Tinker gathered around Leary. Though it had been a decidedly short period of time that Darius had known him, he still felt the loss all the same. It brought him into a moment of silent reflection where he once again met with the grief of losing his father and his old life. Here amidst these relative strangers, he now felt a sense of family and belonging.
Darius looked at Preature, who met his gaze. An unspoken exchange was made between them in that look, and they both understood each other a little bit more in that moment. A resolve was born between all four of them. A sense of righteous anger that drove them toward the same conclusion.
Darius rasped, “We have to finish what we’ve started.”
Preature pointed to Darius, “Tear Del down.”
“Vengeance,” Tinker added.
“For Leary,” CURL whispered.
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