Chapter Eight - Choices Are The Devils Work. Slavery Is True Freedom.

Character Store:

This upgrade enables the character store, where you will be able to spend your character points on equipment, items, spellbooks and pets. This store is essential for unlocking crafting skills. All purchases will be placed in the user’s inventory.

Inner Fortress:

This upgrade enables the expansion of the inventory mechanic and transforms it into a safe haven, which the user can use as a base of operations. With further use and upgrades, can transform the layout into a city. When inside the inner fortress, time ceases to pass. Can only exit in the same location as when it was entered.

Additional Information:

This upgrade grants the user additional knowledge of milestones and upgrades, potential possible unlockable secrets, skills, upgrades. Also, gives insight into how certain attributes influence user actions and other Level Up methods achievable.

You have 300 seconds to choose the desired upgrade. If you have not made your choice within the given timeframe, upgrades will be made invalid and denied from future access.

Please be warned, this choice will persist through all future incarnations.

Please be warned, the above options may or may not be available for the next milestone upgrade.

You have 299 seconds left to decide.

You have 298 seconds left to decide.

You have...

Well, that is a bit of a kick in the pants, while also being given an excellent snog.

Choices, choices, choices. Whilst additional information has the potential to be an extremely useful upgrade, for now, I need something that is of more use in the here and now. Maybe if it is part of the next milestone, whenever that may be, I might choose it.

Now the toss up is between Inner Fortress and Character Store. Both sound like they can be of use now, and far into the future. And Inner Fortress can be upgraded? I’m getting hard just thinking about it. Maybe if I do get my Harem, I could store them in the fortress, and have my time with them, exit out, get myself back into prime condition, and when I go back in, no time with have passed and they will think of me as a Sex God. Ennnnng, I need some private time and quick.

But I really need the Character Store. If I can unlock the alchemist skill, I can create my mana potions, and gods know what else. Maybe some GoGo juice for my future concubines, then I won’t need my cooldown time. Just keep on going till I physically hurt myself, and maybe not even then. I do have a lot of pent up testosterone that I need to release. Plus, it can have a powerful combination with blacksmithing and enchanting. And pets! I get myself a pet dragon, or tiger, or griffon, or you know what I really want? A puppy. Mum never let me or my sister have a puppy.

You have 198 seconds left to decide.

You have 197 seconds left to decide.

“I choose Character Store!”

You have selected the upgrade : Character Store

Please confirm your selection by saying : Blue Cheese On A Crumpet

You have 188 seconds left to decide,

“Blue Cheese On A Crumpet!” Sick fucking system. What kind of deranged psychos would ever eat cheese, let alone put in on a crumpet? And Blue Cheese? I think I’m going be sick.

Congratulations! You have unlocked Character Store.

To Access, go to your main status screen, and use the passphrase “Character Store, Alpha Yenta.”

Name Dude Guild N/A Race Human (Default) Affiliation N/A Gender Male (Barely) Disposition Elated Age 23 Years Level 11 Alignment N/A Experience Locked Strength 12 (Base 1) Wisdom 12 (Base 1) Endurance 12 (Base 1) Charisma 12 (Base 1) Dexterity 12 (Base 1) Luck 12 (Base 1) Agility 12 (Base 1) Mental Fortitude 100 Intelligence 12 (Base 1) Character Points 11000

“Character Store, Alpha Yenta!”

Welcome To The Character Store. First Time Access To Store Detected. 1,000 Exp Awarded.

Please Select Which Category You Would Like To Access :

Equipment :

Common – Access Fee : 1k Points (0/1,000)

Rare – Access Fee : 10k Points (0/10,000)

Masterful – Access Fee : 100k Points (0/100,000)

Legendary = Access Fee : 500k Points (0/500,000)

Divinity – Access Fee : 1m Points (0/1,000,000)

Crafting Equipment :

Alchemy – Basic Alchemy Startup Kit : 1k Points (0/1,000)

Blacksmithing – Basic Blacksmith Startup Kit : 1k Points (0/1,000)

Jewellery – Basic Jewellery Startup Kit : 1k Points (0/1,000)

Enchanting – Basic Enchanting Startup Kit : 10k Points (0/10,000)

Crafting Resources :

Alchemy – LOCKED

Blacksmithing – LOCKED

Jewellery – LOCKED

Enchanting – LOCKED

Spellbooks :

LOCKED – Must Meet Requirements To Unlock Magic Skill Menu :

Level 10 – INT and WIS at 25 and One skill requiring Mana Manipulation at Amateur Tier.

Pets :

Access Fee : 50k Points (0/50,000)

Attention : All points spent on access fees will be carried over into future incarnations.

I love my life, I fucking love my fucking life. Except for the spellbooks, that still bloody well sucks monkey nuts. I might still not know what the hell the experience is for as it is still locked, but I’m pretty sure that I will eventually find out, but that can wait till much, much later.

First I need to get off this roof, phone the police and tell them about the body as I promised – it is very important to keep your promises, builds credibility, put credit in the bank as a down payment for that one ultra-mega betrayal where I will seize control of humanity. Not that I am interested in world domination and power at all. I just think that nobody else can be trusted with it. I swear, I will not go all power hungry and start on the mass executions of anyone that disagrees with me, or if the children fail to entertain me or anything like that. You believe me, right? I thought so, suckers.

Taking one last look around to confirm that the goonie squad has indeed vacated the scene, I can’t spot hide nor hair of them, but I have to still be careful to shake off any potential pursuit. And I say one final goodbye to Ben.

Climbing down once again, I exit the alleyway system into the main streets. Taking a look at the front of the building, I have to remember the number 78511 Hillcrest Avenue to tell the police of where to find Ben’s body.

Taking stock, I have roughly $10,400 left in my ‘Wallet’ so to speak, I need to find a new place to stay, to go shopping for some dry foodstuffs to store in my inventory so I will never have to experience the dire need for food or water, a training area in which to level up my skills as far as I can take them in a safe environment. And then, I need to consider how I am going to spend my character points.

Hailing a passing yellow cab, I ask the driver, ‘Alvarez’ if he can recommend a decent diner or café where I can get something to eat for a reasonable price.

“Yeah man, I can do that. Anything in particular you want, Chinese, Mexican, all American?”

“Do you know of any places that serve English food, like a tea and cake café?”

“Hmmm. Well, there is a Wendy’s Tea Room, but it will take 30 minutes to get there. Cool?”

“Cool, let's go.”

From the town where I grew up, I have never been so scared whilst in a car as I was with Alvarez for those 30 minutes. He was a bloody maniac. He sped. He weaved. I swear that this one time he seemed to make the car shrink in size down to slim Jim getting through the traffic. And the roads. I have never been so confused before. I have visited London once or twice, but New York’s car traffic system make it look like a bumpkins dirt track path, with the occasional visit from the mountain goats.

If New York wasn’t so fricking big, and if I wasn’t so fricken new, I would swear off of cabs and just walk everywhere and fuck how long it takes.

If we made it there, against the massive doubts that we would make it alive and in one piece, in about 25 minutes.

“You sure you weren’t a racer in another life, Alvarez?”

“I’m sure. It was nice meeting you… what is your name?”

“My name is James.”

“What like Cher? Well, whatever works for you, Dude. Hope you enjoy our fair city, Dude.”

“Okay, thanks. Hey, Alvarez, do you mind sticking around, I need to get some food in me, then I need someone to show me around? Here’s a hundred for your prompt service.” Bribery fuels the world and enterprise in all of its forms.

“Thanks. Yeah, I’ll keep the meter running.”

“On second thoughts, fancy joining me, and maybe you can help me with a few problems?. I need to find somewhere to stay and a few other things.”

Alvarez looks wary, like he is reconsidering if maybe I am a wackjob who wants to take him back-back to my lair, and split open his stomach so I can get some liver for my steak pie. But then it clears like he is cool with it, cus he knows that the liver is one of the fastest regenerating organs in the human body, and he will be as right as rain in no time flat. Yeah, that was what was passing through his yummy cranium.

“Alright Dude, let me go park the cab, and I’ll see you in five. I’ve just got to phone me mum and let her know where I am, she gets worried after all.”

Yeah, I can tell that he doesn’t exactly trust me, smart of him really in this day and age. Who knows if I am one of the famous cannibal twin sisters who eats people to fuel their abilities. Fucking UN, twisted little shits. Literally, I think. I get out of the cab and take in the overall ensemble and atmosphere of Wendy’s. A lovely lilac, I think, it is some kind of pink verging on purple, borders the entire shop, with the name of the café picked out in a playful font with white lettering. In the windows are a variety of cakes, biscuits, boxes of teas and little figurines, made out of what looks like icing, of kids in a park, sitting on swings and roundabouts. A true flair or the evanescence of childhood wonder and joy.

If I had just been walking past, I would have been very tempted to enter just to meet the proprietor. Well, honestly, I probably would have just walked past with a mind to come back sometime to compliment the owners, promptly forgot where the café was located and what the hell it was called, and spent a few days trying to wrack my brain and frustrating myself to no end. Then I would have given up, moved on, and within a week, come across the place once more, and the cycle would then repeat.

The double doors of classical wood and glass and opened in welcome to all patrons, with small round tables and hard back chairs with soft looking padding on the seats, the kind which are in-built rather than removable cushions. To my left in an extremely long counter, with all manner of deliciousness, one or two pieces of healthy crap that I wouldn’t touch with a ten-foot barge pole. On the back wall are shelves containing all manner of bread, from the plain white and brown to artisanal like chilling and sunflower seeds, to honey to black forest gateau bread. Then comes a very small section, containing some truly bizarre selections. Tomato ketchup and marmite bread. Cheese, jalapeno and orange peel bread.

On the counter, below the shelves, is a brand spanking new coffee maker, which spoils the effect somewhat, but then I imagine that it is a necessity for modern Americans where they need their life-saving caffeine.

And behind the counter but in front of the shelves is a middle aged woman, maybe 45, very early fifties at the most, with luscious brown hair, with slight touches of grey at the sides, given her a very distinguished look, in essence, a very MILF like look. Oops, gotta keep myself busy for a few minutes, DON’T step away from the counter. Down boy, bad boy, bad.

With a name tag reading the infamous ‘Wendy’ attached to a charming black blouse with black trousers with silver swirling patterns in thin lines down the legs and along the bodice of the shirt. And a truly startling set of green eyes meet mine, with crow feet at her eyes, laughter lines present telling a life spent smiling, truly smiling, not like those bitches who smile with their faces but not their eyes, even as they push the sometimes literal knife in your back.

I think I am in love. Get in shape, level my abilities and rob the shit out of the city and come back, kill her husband and take her for myself. Look, this isn’t helping with the below belt problem. Get your mind into the gutter. That’s it, think of all the disgusting things you can find in the sewer.

Smiling back, I introduce myself, “Hello Wendy, my name is James. It’s lovely to meet you.”

Wendy looks at me funny like I had just made a faux-pas, but I don’t know how I did that within the first few seconds of our very first meeting.

“Dude, hey. Okay. It’s lovely to meet you, love. What can I get for ya? Wan’ look around first, or do you know what you want?”

Ah, I know that it hasn’t exactly been that long, although with all the shit that has happened in the relatively short time I’ve been in this new body it certainly feels like a small lifetime, hearing the lovely native sounds of England is like a soothing balm on my troubled soul.

“Hey, dearie, you having a stroke or something?”

“No, sorry, it’s just that it’s been a long time since I’ve been home, and you sound just like a friend of mine from where I grew up.”

“Oh? You’re from dear old England? Funny, I can’t hear an accent indicating otherwise.”

“Yeah, I was about 10 when my mother moved to America for a job, and for some reason, lately, I’ve been thinking about making a trip back there. See if I can look up some old friends.”

“Well, I hope you find what you are looking for. For now, though, why don’t you take this here menu, take a seat at one of mi tables and take a looksie.”

“Thank you, Wendy.”

“You’re welcome, Dude.”

Odd, another person who has called me Dude. Oh, Shit, maybe that is the ‘Name’ bit of the status screen coming into play to cover my civilian identity. But, wait, I should be wearing some kind of costume. Why the fuck did I pick such a stupid ass prick name. Because I’m a dick, who can’t think before he types and has to be the king of the lolz. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Calm down, wait this out, find somewhere quiet, then you can bash your brains out.

Taking a seat at one of the very cute tables, I peruse the menu and wait for the paranoid Alvarez. Shit load of very unhealthy stuff versus a shit load of very healthy stuff. I can’t work out if Wendy wants to either kill her customers or keep them alive to make them suffer to then later kill them. A very devious system indeed. I must give her props for the seemingly benign exterior this house of death presents. I think I am going to go for the chicken and sweet chilli sandwich on a bed of sweetcorn and brown wholemeal bread. You might think that that is a little bit too much information, but if I am going to suffer some healthy eating, I think the least you can do is suffer with me.

A few minutes later, Alvarez walks in through the do, takes a quick look around, spots me, and sits down at my table.

A conversation ensues, but since I am still intent on making you all suffer, I shall skip the hilarious commentary that goes on between us. Alvarez makes an order for a cake, I forget which kind he ordered. Safe to say, death by chocolate would be an apt metaphor. In fact, thinking about it now, that is probably its name: Death By Chocolate Cake. Yum.

“So, how can I help you?” inquires Alvarez.

“Well, there are a few things I need. First is a place to stay. I can be a relatively low rent place, no more than $3k per month. The second is that I need some supplies, just general store/warehouse type things, like rope, shovels, tools, the kind of things you can get at Walmart. Thirdly, I need some employment, but not the strictly legal kind, if you know what I mean.”

“Yeah, man, I can help you out, no problem. But I don’t suppose that some kind of finders fee might be involved, somehow?” Cheeky bastard, I gave him a C note already. Look at that, learning the lingo already.

“Maybe, it depends on the quality of the information provided.” I can play cheeky too, you know.

“Well, my cousin has an apartment, and she has been looking for a roommate for a few weeks now. I can introduce you two, and if she likes you enough, then the apartment is yours. I don’t know what the rent is like, but you can figure that out yourselves. Be warned though, she is pretty fiery, and she will take your head off at the drop of the head. Trust me, she and my other friend we living together, and one day, he just disappeared. Never heard from him again. So you take my offer at your own risk.

“For the supplies, no problemo, as that can be solved with the third issue of employment. I’ve known this guy, we were friends back in the days, and I can introduce you two. Be warned, if you try to play them or your snitching, it will work out even worse for you than it did with my friend who lived with my sister.

“But, if you need to do some shopping beforehand, there is a Blackmart just outside on the city outskirts I can take you to. It’s absolutely fucking massive man, easy to get lost in there. Rumours are that the ghosts of previous customers still haunt the place where they simply got too enticed by everything that was being sold.”

“Chillin, honestly, sending shivers down my spine,” I smirk back.

Alvarez grins too.

I can’t believe my luck in finding so valuable a find as I have in Alvarez. I proceed to eat, my heart-stopping dessert, Alvarez eats a healthy salad, we bid Wendy adieu, and we leave. I stand outside of Wendy’s whilst waiting for Alvarez to bring his cab back around, and when he arrives, I climb in, and off we are.

“Remember, Dude, this is your last chance to find another, safer place.”

“Thanks, Alvarez, I think I’ll be fine. Whats the worst that could happen after all? To be killed by a beautiful woman? That’s is probably the second best way to go.”

“Well, don’t say I didn’t warn ya.”

We are inside in an old apartment building, the one where the entrances are guarded by the formidable presences of massive sliding metal doors. Scary, I know.

Knock, Knock, Knock.

Three slow and ominous taps by Alvarez announces our presence to the owner inside. Hopefully, she isn’t the frightful sort to think that we are the buildings ghosts or ghoulies and comes to the door ready to door some exorcisms with a hand axe as back up.

But contrary to my wild imaginings, what greets us is a scowling, 5”4’ short Mexican woman in the twenty to late twenty bracket range. No, she is not smoking a long handled cigarette, get real, this isn’t a stupid 30’s noir film, where she is in a ermine overcoat, makeup perfectly applied, with a sultry expression on her face. The creature facing us is a modern woman.

She has no makeup to speak of, Mexican in colouring, but with shimmering blue highlights in her hair, just enough to be mesmerising but not, meh. With pale red lips, a lovely oval face, a nicely curvy figure in all the right places, and what looks like a gorgeously ample ass in her trunk.

Then she notices Alvarez, then her scowl transforms into an even deeper scowl.

“What do you want!” Mysterious lady isn’t too happy to see her cousin, or so it seems. Either that or they have one weird and freaky relationship where happiness and joy are shown as disgust, loathing and disappointment.

“Come on Leigh, no need to be like that. See, I’ve got another Potential roommate for you. Now, invite us in, offer us some coffee like a nice host, and where are the biscuits, I keep forgetting.”

Alvarez meets her onslaught of scowliness with bright cheeriness like this is the highlight of his day, a chance to fully annoy his cousin. I am starting to get a bad feeling about this. Maybe I should look for another place. Nah. Too lazy. Hopefully, the introduction with my new employer will go better. Yeah, right!

Alvarez just calmly saunters past ‘Leigh’ and into her apartment, like he owns the place. It an actually quite big, quite surprising since I would have though that most space in the city would be prime real-estate and quite expensive. I was expecting more of a cramped studio than this almost sprawling space.

Leigh continues to glare at me for a few seconds more, grunts, turns around and walks over to one of the couches.

I step inside, close the sliding door behind me, then figure out that the locking mechanism is a crowbar which takes the place of the padlock. Interesting.

I turn around once more to find that Alvarez has taken one of the single seater couches to Leigh’s right and my left, with his feet tossed over one of the arms, with a mug of something cradled between his hands.

Leigh is sitting back with both arms spread out to either side of her, one leg crossed over the other, with shadows lining the underside of her eyebrows, giving her already ominous appearance that much-needed killer vibe.

*Gulp*

“So, you’re my new roommate then?”

“I guess so.”

I continue to stand as I haven’t been invited to sit, and quite frankly, this little lady is scaring the shit out of me. Oh, come on, not again. I think I’m getting another boner here. This body seems to be turned on by every single creature so far. Seriously dude, when was the last time you got laid or had a wank,

“Here’s the deal: No pets, no dates, no noise, late rent gets your ass thrown out, no mess, no flirting or sexual innuendoes, no touching of my stuff, oh and, if you dare go in my room, I will find out, and I will feed you your cock and make you choke on your balls. Alright? Still, want to be my little roomie?” God, Leigh is a sarcastic bitch. I think I’ve fallen in love all over again. Hate fucking. Get in there my son.

“Yeah, sounds ideal. So when can I move in?” I ask sweetly with a hint of saccharine.

Leight stares at me for a few more seconds, like she is trying to convince me to leave with her glares alone. Then she snorts, turns her head and look at Alvarez, and asks snidely, “Where the fuck did you pick him up from? I like a man with balls. Gives me something to take my anger out on when they piss me off.”

Alvarez and I just laugh.

“Alright. First, what’s your name?”

Time for a little experiment. “Hilda, The Genie Bullsack.”

“Just Dude? What the fuck were your parents thinking? Or you some god damn hippy? I don’t like those wackadoodle permanently glazed mother fuckers.”

“Nah, my parents were just having a laugh. Not the brightest of people, they didn’t realise that the certificate was for real. After they had found out, they thought it was a right Josh of a joke. Funny, one and all. No, really. I never liked my real name, so I just decided to change it to Dude. I like it. I guess that is all that matters in the end.”

“Whatever. Look, it’s $1,500 a month, with a two-month advance upfront. That alright with you?”

“Yeah, that’s alright. So, I need to do some shopping first and meet this contact of Alvarez for the job. Can I meet you back here in a few hours?”

Slipping my hand inside my coat, I open up my inventory and take out the $3,000 which comes out as a roll of C-notes with an elastic band. Weird, free stuff, even if it is an elastic band.

Handing the cash over like it wasn’t one-third of my current funds, Leigh raises one sexy eyebrow whilst still retaining her pleasant demeanour.

“Okay.”

She stares at me some more like she is trying to pierce through to the root of my soul. Whatever she finds there still displeases her. Still my angry goddess.

Leigh then gets up, goes to what I presume is here room in the back left of the apartment, and comes out seconds later with a key on a ring. She tosses it to me whilst still halfway in the doorway.

I do my best to show her my prowess by catching the keys, but of course, my hands are shaking with sheer animal magnetising attraction, so I fumble them a couple of times but do eventually get a grasp on them.

“Thanks.” Suave man, totally debonair.

Alvarez finishes off his drink, places the mug on the table, gets up and crosses over to me. “Hey Leigh, we gotta make a move now. This big lug needs to pick up a few things then I need to introduce him to Micky. Need anything?”

“No, Alvy. Bye”.

And with that, Leigh once again enters her room, but this time just stays there. I don’t know if I could have been that cool with a new roommate. I would have insisted on a thorough background check with written references and still wanted a sawn-off shotgun hidden under my bed. Well, I don’t know for sure the Leigh doesn’t have some kind of firearm in her room, but she is awfully trusting for someone who met a complete stranger for the first time and decided that he would be her new roommate, even if her cousin did introduce said stranger.

Getting back in the cab with Alvarez, (otherwise, that would have been stealing, and stealing is wrong after all, well, it is if it’s from a friend), we make a move.

“So, Dude, where do you want to go next, supplies or the job offer?”

“It’s been a long day for me so far, so let’s go visit this contact of yours first, I can do the shopping tomorrow maybe.

“Do you mind if I ask, what does your cousin do exactly?” I ask in the hopes of finding out why she is so terrifyingly scary for the entire length of our introduction.

“Well, her main occupation is as an online digital artist. In certain circles, she is quite famous and very well respected. But on the side, she has her true love. She works as a family grief counsellor. I know right, why would my lovely fragile cousin work in something that can be horrific and heartbreaking. But she always says that if she could do that full time she would. I don’t know, maybe she has a few screws loose.”

Well, I’ve got to admit, I didn’t see that coming, even with the craziness so far. Well done, big guy, you got me good and proper.

Neither says another word after that tidbit of information. I think we were just ruminating on Leigh lifestyle choice. But it was a comfortable silence, no awkward at all.

Alvarez drove for about another fifteen minutes or so and stopped outside a pub called ‘Pirates Gambit’. A very fitting name indeed if I find inside what I expect.

Alvarez turns around in his seat and says to me, “Listen, Dude. Don’t make any quick moves whilst inside there. Just go up to the bar and ask the bartender that you would like to speak to ‘Micky’ and tell him that Alvarez sent you. Alright?”

“Alright, got it. See you in a few, then.”

Getting out of the cab, I take in the view of the pub, but it just looks like an ordinary pub, one of the thousands you might see in good ole England, those oldie types not the newer ones.

Stepping inside the doors, I am temporarily blinded by the sunlit brightness of the outside. It’s not exactly dark inside, but it is quite a bit dimmer. Giving myself a few seconds to recover and get used to the dimmed interior, I survey the layout, just in case or JIC of course.

Booths down the left side of the pub, with a round layout to my immediate, left just before the door. Down the right are wooden tables and chairs. Try to think Victorian style pub chairs, and you will get the idea. No modern stuff in this pub, just good old vintage.

Except maybe for the bar. The bar is a haven of light, draw the moth-like customers to its warm embrace encouraging them to partake in its deliciousness. At the bar is a female bartender, about mid-twenties to very early thirties, no tattoos as one might expect, but with horn-rimmed glasses. Blonde hair, a slim figure but showing off clearly defined muscles. And the way she is walking gracefully like a ballet dancer might move. Intoxicating. And she has this small smile playing across her lips with wiping a glass like she is lost in her own little world. I want to visit now.

Definitely, need to build myself a harem. So many choices, I am pulling myself apart in order to chase them all at the same time.

My eyesight now fully adjusted, I walk up to the bar, and in a very professional voice, and not like a love sick puppy in love and worship with its new master, I ask “Could I please speak to Micky? Alvarez vouches for me.”

The bartender looks at me with that small smile, then glances over to the side, in one of the booths. I look over just in time to see the back of a head nod just once whilst raising a glass to its mouth.

The bartender looks back at me, nods just once and tilts her head to the side in an indication for me to go over.

“Thanks,” I say to her and tap the bar. Getting up, I steadily walk over to the man sitting in the booth. Walking past, I then turn around in order to introduce myself. But I am defeated. For sitting on the seat is not a man, but a woman, gasp. I’ve never come across a woman who has called herself, Micky, before. New experiences and all that jazz.

Playing it call like everything is as expected, I nod to Micky and say, “Hey, I’m Dude.”

To which, see just looks at me with a question in her eyes like, ‘Really?’

And I just look back at her, with my eyes saying, ‘Really!’

With a small tightening of her mouth and a small almost imperceptible shrug, she tilts her glass half full of amber liquid as an invitation to sit down.

I do so.

“So how can I help you…?”

“Dude”, might as well bite the bullet as it is now my name.

“I meant your real name.” Micky is looking slighted peeved off now.

“Really, my name is Dude, no other.”

“Fine, then how can I help you… Dude?”

“Well, I’m new in town I need help in finding a job. I specialise in extra-legal acquisitions with a side interest in creative… HR work.”

“And just why should I help you? Other than Alvarez vouching for you that is.”

“Well, I didn’t come empty handed, I brought along a gift that I am hoping that will persuade you that I am serious.”

“Okay, then give me my present then.”

“I have to reach inside my coat, that alright? Or you gonna shoot me or something?”

“Just do it slowly. Just as a warning, ever since you sat down, my other hand has been holding a revolver pointing at your nuts. I don’t like what I see, and your 2 ounces lighter, got it?”

“Alright.” Slowly and carefully reaching inside my coat, I open up my inventory and pull out the gun I nicked, or should I say looted, from Ben the hired killer. Shit, still gotta phone that in. Well, after this I can get Alvarez to drop me off at a payphone.

Then gun comes out held between my thumb and forefinger. Pulling it out of my coat, whilst keeping a close eye of Micky, I can see her tense up slightly when she can see the gun coming out.

But she relaxes when she can I see that I am not gripping the pistol and I set it down before her

“A gift,” I intone.

She lifts the gun up, looks it around a few times, pulls back the slide and ejects the clip. And her face transforms into something like a little girl would have on her face if her parents gave her a pony on her birthday.

“Where did you get this?”

“I killed a guy that was trying to kill me. I don’t like guns, but decided to hang on to it to maybe sell it later.”

Her face then drops back into its calm and focused formation, looks at me as if trying to discern who I had killed. But then she just says to me, “Okay. Nice gift. I’ve always wanted a Desert Eagle.”

Micky then pulls out a phone from her inside pocket, takes a picture of my face, does some typing, then lays it flat on the table in front of me.

“Put your fingertips on the screen. When it flashes, remove your hand and put your other set of fingers on the screen. I will then run a background search on you. Come back in three days. If the search turns up that your police or a child abuser or a known snitch, I will then either kill you or put a bounty on your head if you don’t turn up. So, you want to back out now or do you want to go from here?”

“I’ve got nothing to hide, I think.” I grin in a self-confident manner. I mean, what is a bullet to the brain when I can reincarnate? Other than the horrid possibility of being reborn into an incontinent comatose body that will never wake up and die in fifty years worth of total boredom? Hmm, not getting killed for a while would be better.

But I am going to have to take the chance that my previous body’s owner wasn’t either of those things.

“Off you go then, Dude. And remember, back here in three days, no more, no less.”

I nod back, get up and walk outside.

I ask Alvarez to drop me at a payphone, tell the police that I killed a man and give them the address and hang up. They have to check it out.

Tell Alvarez drops me back at my new home.

Time to get some sleep, and tomorrow I can work out what to spend my character points on and what to get on my shopping trip.

Until tomorrow, goodnight.