“From the sounds of it, you were living in the Outskirts.” Foxtail stated in a hush tone. Foreigner and Foxtail were walking through byroads and corners to avoid being overheard with the girl taking the lead. “Not sure what to make about the rest of the information though.” Foreigner shrugged, nodding in agreement.

“Well at least I know I have a home out there, right? And if I have a home then I should get more answers once I head over there. If the Meister can give me at least that much information, I can leg it the rest of the way and find out what happened to my wife and Carlito.” The name of his son was still tender in his mouth, like an open wound that tasted of copper. Without any memories, he still hoped he was okay, the poor kid.

“That’s if the Meister is just hiding out somewhere. Chances are good he’s dead or gone but people like them tend to be kidnapped and ransomed instead of outright slain. They’re more useful alive.” Foreigner hated to admit it, but Foxtail was right. Jin had hired professionals and even they didn’t have anything to offer. It was wishful thinking that they could make a difference but even so, it was either the Meister or the mysterious Banshee woman he had to mine leads out of and he much preferred the option that didn’t put him in harm’s way. “That aside, do you still need lessons on District 24 or did you get those memories back too when Jin did their… thing?”

“Yeah, give me a rundown. I have the foggiest of memories about social hierarchies but trying to push any further gives me a splitting headache.” Foreigner replied, looking to Foxtail for more information.

“Well, hierarchies is right. We’ve got the Nests, which are the walled off bastards up above. Then we’ve got us in the Backstreets and outside of our own walls are the Outskirts, which is a place you don’t want to go unless you don’t mind being eaten or are strong enough to hold your own.” Foreigner noticed Foxtails agitation at the mention of the Outskirts. He made a mental note to ask her about it when they had less pressing issues to deal with. “Each District is owned by a corporation called a Wing. They’ve got a monopoly on these things called Singularities but you should ask Peepers about it. He knows more about the Singularities than I do. Anyway those in the Nest work for the corps as Feathers. And out here in the Backstreets, we have to contend with the likes of the Five Fingers and the local Syndicates, which is the criminal faction that the Associations often deal with.” Foxtail stopped in her tracks and looked at Foreigner. His eyes were squinted and an eyebrow was raised.

“This seems so convoluted.” Foreigner said matter of factly.

“I agree. It’s a bunch of bullshit nonsense, which makes the cruelty of being at the bottom of the food chain so much more painful. Suffice to say; no one out here is your friend except for the close circle you align yourself to, and even then you should keep your distance.” Foxtail kept a jovial facade but her dour tone told Foreigner there was something else to that coldness. She shook her head and pivoted to restart her march. “Alright, I think if we take this path up here, we should reach-” Foxtail made a sudden stop. A moment later, the sound of crumbling concrete and a familiar shattering of bones pierced through the area. Up ahead, Foreigner could see about five individuals without shirts, sections of muscle rippling and writhing with overwhelming power. There were tufts of fur, elongated jaws, pincers, and an assortment of other animal appendages grafted onto their bare bodies. One of the individuals pulled back their bear arm, shaking the fur to let a slick of blood and viscera cut through the pavement, its victim falling limply onto the floor.

“Keep yourself calm and alert! These Burden bitches won’t be taking us down today!” A gruff masculine voice rallied the group of Fixers. He was out of breath, wielding a grey hammer with both hands, his body in a readied stance to attack. Underneath his feet were oversized bodies, about four to five of them, with caved-in skulls and limbs.

“What should we do?” Foreigner looked to Foxtail for answers. Her eyes were wide with fright but shit bit her lip in resolution.

“I didn’t expect to arrive at an Office with the Beasts of Burden conducting a raid, but here we are. Uh, I don’t know if we should engage,” the five oversized people were stretching their limbs, getting ready for their next assault on the Office, “but if we don’t engage, we might lose out on our lead.” That was enough of a justification for Foreigner to jump in. His body was reflexive in his charge, measured steps and tested muscles sinking into a routine his body was familiar with, like an entity had hijacked his body. He reeled his arm back on the charge and propelled the needle forward with his momentum. His intended target tried to react to the arrival of a third party by swinging a gorilla arm in a wide range but Foreigner had closed too much distance to deflect the attack outright.

The Turned Stone Office watched as Foreigner skewered the oversized person through their midsection, dragging the individual away a few steps. The man’s eyes were wild but there was still sense in him. He held onto the cement borer and anchored himself to the ground, preventing the weapon from piercing the whole way through. Foreigner used his front leg to pivot, extending the cement borer into its pick mode and cleaving through more of the beasts midsection. The man held onto the weapon as a final act of resistance.

“We are the predators, brothers! I may fall but the Circle lives on!” The muscular man howled, using his form to pull the weapon out of Foreigners hands. Foreigners grip tightened on the weapon and he instinctively knew what to do.

“Ahhhhhhh!” Foreigner yelled out, muscles taut as he yanked the pick with all of his strength out of the monstrous man. The man’s lower spine visibly snapped under the weight of his own muscles, a heavy thud on the concrete with spurts of blood flying out like a water spout. His heart was practically leaping out of his chest but he held firm as the remaining four enemies adjusted to contend with their new opponent. “I hope I just didn’t make a fatal mistake.”