Week 4 – Vorspeise

You wake up to the start of a new week, of a new day, a new mornin', and you're already feelin' more tired than when you last closed your eyes.

"Fuck," you utter, croakin', as you recall, still clearly, unfadin', 'bout the 'dream' you just had. Groaning, you drape your arm over your face. Almost, you could see it, little Lily's corpse lyin' on some alley . "Fuuuuuuuck!"

You're sca – spooked, and it pisses you off that you're spooked. It never comes up, and you never thought about it, but you're – you're what? You exhale, letting your arm to drop from your face, burying your fists into your pock – shit, your jacket's hanging way over there.

[Endurance Check. Easy. Pass.]

What are you cryin' over? We're fucking unkillable, sister! Ain't nobody bringing this fortress wall down.

[Melee Check. Easy. Pass.]

Double the carnage – double the bloodshed, and double the massacre, and double the slaughter. Double the fun, the mess!

[Instinct Check. Easy. Pass.]

Second time's not the charm.

Hah. Fuck. 'Course you're happy – pleased as fuck, really. You don't think you're Distorting, but who the hell really knows – at the very least, you still feel like you, and aside from the usual shit, you're as peachy as you could be. It's a damn leg up, bein' capable of surviving stuffs that you really shouldn't, and you coulda been dealt with a much shittier card. It only makes your job easier, an' you know, only a select few of people out there can rise through the ranks of a Fixer, beyond it, into Color, and those people are one-of-a-kind. The Red Mist who hit so goddamn hard things just turn into mist, or the Purple Tear who could apparently get anywhere and everywhere in a blink of an eye. But that ain't the reason you're pissed of, is it? That's not what got you spooked up, it's –

It's the fact that you know shit fucking all about this shit.

[Vision Check. Medium. Pass.]

It's one thing if the past stays in the past – it's another thing when the past latches on to you.

[Repression Check: Medium. Pass.]

This is the one – and many a, unfortunately — thing we can't let go.

[Endurance Check: Medium. Pass.]

The Flesh.

[Melee Check: Medium. Pass.]

Never.

[Instinct Check: Medium. Pass.]

Forgets.

You shiver. "Enough of this weak coward shit," growling, and glaring at the ceiling, you let out a grunt, pulling yourself up to your feet. "I don't got time for this," you mutter, mussing your hair up. Shuffling, you bend over to your jacket, and throw it over your shoulders. "Need to work."

You can think about this when you're rich enough to not care about what or who's putting food on the table. Or maybe never. Never sounds great.

Stalkin', prowling, back hunched towards the bathroom, onto the tub of cold water, you pass the mirror. You pause, and look at yourself scowling back at you. Green eyes, blonde hair, scars peekin' up here and there, and – and the red ribbon that you forgot to untie. Grunting, you tug it off, lettin' your hair fall over. Ain't gonna want it get wet – but in any case, for all that shit about the fact that you could die and then become not die, you don't feel any different, and you don't look any different either. It only makes your brows furrow together, glaring at your reflection like it's some stranger.

Just… what are you?

[Ego Check: Hard. Fail!]

You don't know anymore.

Article:

You have 1,203,150 Ahn – more money than you ever could know how to use.

Diet Plan (Choose 1):

[] Extreme (0 Ahn): It's… well. It's not a living. Barely a living – but you just need something to fill your stomach. Water's free. You'll have to dumpster dive, and maybe see if there's some wild edible grass you could cook. Or mug some nearby Rats. That works too, though you don't expect much from them either. [Receive Status: Starving – -5 to Max Health, and Sanity Point for the Week. -1 to Armor Resists. Receive Temporary -1 to one of your Favored Skills (1d3).]

[] Turtling (5000 Ahn): Your usual affair. Rice porridge seasoned with salt – and whatever else you can find on discount, and maybe scavenge out in the dump of some fancy neighborhood. It's not great, but you can live with it. [Receive Status: Hungry – -1 to both Armor Resist, and Damage.]

[] Healthy, and Fulfilling (50,000 Ahn): Rice porridge, but this time with proper seasonings, and meats, and vegetables. Maybe not even porridge – maybe you can eat rice as is with a side-dish, without turning it into sludge. Wouldn't that be nice? [Receive Status: Prepared: +5 to Health or Sanity Points.]
-[] Boost Health or Sanity

[] Luxurious, and Nutritious (100,000 Ahn): You can… you can treat yourself a little, right? For once in your lifetime, and – fuck. You don't know. Eat whenever you're hungry. HamHamPangPang sandwiches, and that rice porridge Mao and Mori treated you to. Shit, maybe even pork belly? God. Please. [Receive Status: Energetic – +5 Max Health or Sanity Points. Receive temporary +1 to one of your Favored Skills (1d3 Dice Roll).
-[] Boos Health or Sanity

Cooking Skill:

[] Mom's Shitty Stir-Fry (30,000 Ahn): The logic of 'not wasting anything at all' is something that you're very much willing to internalize, but the execution on how this recipe's doing that is fucking stupid. Still, it's a taste of the past, and the past is an awfully addicting thing. [-10 Sanity. +1 to Repression and Ego, -2 to Vision]

[] Boundary of Death (44,444 Ahn): Your foray into the cooking world with the help of Sun has proven to be incredibly valuable. At the very least, you ain't gonna accidentally burn down your place, and you can make something dependably – 'course trying out new things, experimenting, and creating a whole new ass recipe is another thing entirely. [1d4 Roll. Rolling 1 will lead to a Bad Recipe. 2-3 leads Mixed Recipe. Rolling 4 will lead to discovering a Good Recipe. You are allowed to either Learn the Recipe, allowing you to recreate it, and consuming one Recipe Slot, or Ignore it.]

…

When you're finally ready for work, you feel much better than you first woke up – the memory's still fresh and clear as crystal, but in the end, it doesn't matter. The past is the past, so let it stay there in the past – thinkin' too deep on it would only make you a loser fuck too busy choking on misery and self-pity, so you gotta stay on the now and then, keep on keeping on with the daily grind. One day at a time, and never look back.

"Yeah," you growl, grinning, popping your collars out, twice-checking your red-ribbon, and shove your hands deep into your pockets. "Time to get to work! Bodyguard some idiots, eat fancy shit, and kill some fucks."

And with that, you swagger out of your room – and it only lasts a second, as you feel the hair on the back of your neck rise. You twitch, snapping your neck to the side, and greeted immediately by a pair of yellow circles over circles over circles over circles. Dark red hair braided down to the small of her back –

[Melee Check: Easy. Pass.]

— flowing, swirling, and coursing like a river of blood.

Black dress touching her feet, and skin white to the point of pale.

[Instinct Check: Medium. Pass.]

Somewhere, beyond District H, elsewhere, in a Nest, a woman stands before a two-by-two-meter size square of land. It is a grave, but there is no corpse, or ash, or anything underneath, just a marble plaque with a name on top of it. It would take her twenty million Ahn per year to maintain that tiny, allotted piece of land. She would only be able to maintain it for half-a-year. That woman too, wear a black dress. She is in grief, and she is in mourning.

Her eyes widen slightly in surprise, before they settle into a curving smile. Adil stands there, facing the door of room, hand on the handle, pausing. Your newest and next-door neighbor. Someone who might or might not know your mother – no, there's no doubt about it that she does. There's too much coincidences, and you might be dumb, but if you're that dumb, you wouldn't be alive, apparent ability to get back up after dying be damned. It's also for that reason that you don't fucking trust her – but at the very least, unlike Landlord Lin, she hasn't given you much reason to actually hate her.

"Adil," you grunt, clipped, narrowing your eyes at her. "Good morning."

Adil hums. "Good morning to you as well, Lily," she returns, voice soft and smooth. She pauses then, tilting her head slightly, and frowns in concern, circles over circles over circles circling over you. "You look awful."

"Fuck off," you say quickly, reflexively, almost flinching away – no, digging your hand deeper into your jacket, you glare at her. "I look the same as every day."

She hums, then takes a step towards you. Instinctively, you take a step back. She pauses, then smiles, and she takes another step forward, but you don't take another step away. The back of her hand, cold, rests on your forehead. "Did something happen to you?"

You jump. "Don't fucking touch me!" you slap her hand away, leaping back. Your heart beats rapidly. Shit, what the fuck was that? "What the fuck, you bitch?"

Adil winces, nursing her hand close – you could see the coloration already forming from your slap. Serves her right. "Apologies, Lily," she says, before sighing – her smile returns. "I'm simply worried – a Fixer's job is hard," she points out, as if you don't fucking know already. You glare. She dips her head apologetically. "And it would be very upsetting if you were to die before we could sit together and have tea."

You glare at her, shoving her hands deep into your pockets, fingers digging, nails scratching at the seams. "Fuck off," you mutter. "Ain't gonna fucking die."

She purses her lips together, then sighs. "Well, if you say so – I think it would be very lonely here without you," she holds her bruised hand to her cheek. "Especially if your mother is who I think she is."

Aha. You squint her eyes at her. "So you do know who my mother is."

"I think I do," Adil muses, eyes twinkling. "But if you want to know, you'd have to return alive for our teatime together."

You glare at her, long and hard, then scoff, turning away. "You can't tell me what to do – you're not the boss of me. I'll die if I want to."

You won't, of course, die, even if you won't die if you do die – you want to live, because dying's not great, and because you're still not up there yet. And even then, you're nowhere close, and never will be close to planning to die. But you're trying to make a fucking point here!

Behind you, you hear a giggle. If you look over your shoulders, you might be greeted to Adil waving her hand at you. "Stay safe, Lily, and see you soon!"

You growl, and quicken your pace, practically leaping over the staircases.

You got to Scarecrow Office almost in no time, and the moment you step foot inside, you already know something awful is about to happen. It's the heavy air in the room, pressin' down on you; the dead silence in the air, none of that soft distant playing music, and interrupted only by the spinning and turning of the fan. It's the fact that the only one inside the main lounge is Boss Daniel still in his usual seat, seeming to have never moved at all, his sack-covered head twitches, and the crow on his wide-brimmed hat locking eyes with you, and Mao, sitting on her armchair, alone, and not at all smiling.

Your neck tingles. Suddenly, you're struck by the feeling that you're no longer seeing Mao the Annoying Senior Fixer, but Mao the 5th​ Grade Fixer who is the Vice-Chief, and Future Chief of Scarecrow Office.

Instinctively, you gulp.

"Good morning, tiger," Mao greets, smiling, golden amber eyes curving slightly. "Take a seat – I gotta talk," taking a deep breath, you do just that. Mao chuckles. "First of all, you look like shit."

You glare, grumbling under your breath. "Second time I hear that today…" you mutter. Pausing, you take a deep breath, then lean forward, elbows resting on your knees. "So what's up?"

Mao hums. "Let's take this easy first, tiger," the corner of her lips twitches as her shoulders start to slouch, and she leans back onto her chair. "So I been hearing that you've been getting close to Sun, huh? Never thought she was your type."

You flinch. "She cooks good," you mumble, not really knowing how else to answer that. "What, something wrong with that?"

"Nah, nah," Mao shakes her head quickly, grinning. "But food, huh?" she muses, before snorting. "Well, not like there's any rule with hanging out with our client, and what kinda girl I'd be if I get in the way of my little tiger's happiness, eh?" she sighs. "My, how they grow so quick."

You grumble under your breath, digging your hands deep into your pockets. "Ain't like I'm hidin' shit," you mutter, feeling heat rise up to your cheeks. "So screw off. Just asked her for a cooking lesson."

She raises an eyebrow. "Just?"

"Fuck off."

"Like I said, there's nothing to be mad about, Lily," Mao smirks.

You roll your eyes. "We easin' up enough now?" you grumble. Mao pauses, then nods, a smug look in her eyes. "So get to the point."

Saying that, the smug look in her eyes quickly goes away, replaced with something more serious – and the heavy air returns as she leans forward, elbows on her thighs. You copy the motion reflexively. Golden amber eyes sharp as the tip of a blade. "… We spotted Moon on the move," you tense up, but wait. There's more. Mao nods. "And he's distorted."

You inhale sharply – sweat breaks out of your skin in hives. Sun is in – "Motherfucker," you mumble. "Knew we shoulda killed him in the first place."

Mao shakes her head. "Ain't nobody's fault. Nobody could predict that," you raise an eyebrow, and Mao rolls her amber eyes. "Lily, nobody knows how people Distort, and if every people who's a little down on the luck could Distort, we'd all already be Distorted or dead."

You open your mouth, and then closes it. "Whatever."

She sighs. "What's done is done."

You nod begrudgingly. "No point in sticking on the past," you mutter. "Nothing good comes out of it."

"Yep," she pops the 'p'. "And fortunately, not like Distortions can't die – you and I could still stop them."

You blink. Once, then twice. "You and I? Them?"

Mao makes a face, as if tasting shit. "Remember 'Tomorrow's New You'?"

You nod. Hair rises, alarm rising. "That's the Distortion Candle thing, right?" your eyes widen slightly. "Don't fucking tell me that's how Moon –"

"Nope," she shakes her head. "The girls at Yellow Road told me that they're not connected – but the candles are back, and someone managed to connect them to the Loud Orchestra," you inhale sharply. "Yeah, they're now an Urban Nightmare – and Ran's on a warpath and pulling Fixers left and right. She even got some Distortion experts from 'nother District," her eyes darken slightly at that. "Mori and Kai are the two who got successful experience on spotting the candles, and while we're an Independent Office, that doesn't mean we could just ignore the Hana willy-nilly."

You grimace. This… would be the first time in a while that you won't be working with Kai. Suddenly, you're very aware of the Red Ribbon's existence on your head, the fabrics brushing faintly against your hair. "… And 'them'?"

"Vic's Office," your eyebrows pick up at that. "Yeah, I know, but Moon's – Hana's dubbed him 'Weeping Heartstrings' now, and yes, I know, but the girls saw him do something funny to the Vic's Office Fixers, and now they're under his control. Last the girls saw them, they're headed towards Sun's place –" your hands clench tight into fists. "This time, we're being hired by Vale."

You blink, exhaling slowly. "That's Sun's Boss."

"Yep," Mao confirms, smirking crookedly. "Also the one who suggested Sun to hire us in the first place."

Huh. Yeah. Okay. That fits. Then you pause, connecting the dots. "Sun doesn't know, does she?"

"Nope."

You open your mouth –

[Empathy Check. Easy. Autopass.]

She smiles a melancholic smile. "It was nice, while it lasted. So just for that, at least, I don't want him to die."

And you close your mouth down, grimacing. "… It's probably better that way."

[Negotiaton Check. Easy. Autopass.]

If it comes to it, beg for forgiveness, not permission.

"Thought the same. Our client too. She doesn't want Sun to know," Mao tells you. She closes her eyes with a sigh, leaning back to her chair – then cracks a single eye open. "Listen, tiger, this is going to be an Urban Plague Request," you stiffen. "And I know I said 'you and I', but this is also still beyond your skill, so if –"

You clench your jaws, and it takes every twitching muscle in your body not to leap at her. "Fuck you," you snarl. "I don't give a fuck, and I ain't backing down."

She casts a lazy eye at you. "Even if it means you'll only be dead weight?" she drawls.

Your hand instinctively reaches for your knockbar. "… I'll show you dead weight, Mao."

Mao sighs, then chuckles. You glare, and not at all pouting. "Fine, fine – at least you can take care of the Vic's Office. I think you're strong enough to take those chumps out."

You grumble. That's probably the best you can get.

"And one more thing," Mao continues, and you try not to groan. Mao grins, chuckling, but that also fades quickly back to seriousness. "… You remember what I said back then, when we hung out in that bar?"

You eye her cautiously. "… Yeah," and then, you catch the rare, quiet-like concerned look on her face. You feel a knot forming in your throat. That ain't Mao. "You think something's about to go down."

"I think things are already going down," Mao answers you simply, closing her eyes, scowling. "It's a feeling I been getting – the girls aren't seeing anything, but things are lining a little too perfectly. Not like things are always calm, but this time, today, it feels

[Instinct Check. Hard. Pass!]

On the Border of District H, the Black-Masked Beat stands and stops. There is only rage and misery in his mind. Then he takes another step forward, to continue his personal and senseless rampage, leaving behind innumerable yet unseen ruins and destructions. In that moment, the rows of white-masked men and women begin to sing and play, led by the guidance of the Conductor. Deeper still, up North, two Factories continue its chugging – brains of fragmented memories processed, and stored, and sold to the highest bidders. One candle – two, three, dozens of candles flicker to life. In the Nest, up in tall antenna-like tower of H-Corp, the CEO of Hello Corporation looks over their own District; the Nest, and the Backstreets – they look the same to them. Swirling a glass of red wine in one hand, a piece of paper hangs in the other. Unsigned, waiting for his approval to finally realize his Vision. Elsewhere, two newly reborn Managers and a discomfited Rat-turned-Middle-recruit returned to kneel before their King Administrator.

You gulp. "I trust you," you say, and Mao smiles a little. "But then what?"

"Keep your eyes open," Mao advises, and you give her a look. She sighs. "Not much else we could do beyond riding this out 'till it's over, and struggle to survive."

You blink. Then snort. "So the usual crap, then?"

Mao barks out a laugh, grinning, and the seriousness fades from her face – now, you don't see Mao the 5th​ Grade Fixer, Vice-Chief and Future Chief of the Scarecrow Office. She's now back to Mao your annoying Fixer senior. Leaning back onto her seat, she lets out another chuckle. "Sounds about right."



[] Hang out with
-[] Boss.

Mao leaves the Office soon after, saying that she's going to pick up stuffs from her place for tonight's preparation. And that means you're staying back in the Office until she got back here, meanin' that you're left behind, alone with Boss Daniel. Shit. For the first time since you've become member of Scarecrow Office, you're alone with the Boss. Your eyes latch onto him, but you don't even know where to start. There's nothing for your eyes to latch onto thanks to the burlap sack, and he's just sitting there, doing nothing, menacingly, 'staring' at you. The crow remains perched on his hat, beady eyes locking with you, head twitching left and right every now and then.

Your stomach begins to gurgle.

Uh. Shit. You haven't eaten breakfast, have you? And now you're starving. Groaning, you lean back into the sofa, fingers idling on the Red Ribbon around your hair. Kai's face pops into the front of your head – for some reason, it feels like forever you last seen her. You frown.

[Perk Activated: Partner.]

[Perk Activated: Red Ribbon.]

You're not – you're not fucking worried. She's going to be fine. Yeah, she's going to be fine. She's your damn partner, after all, and even if that means little when she's not actually working with you, you also know that she's damn strong, and she also got Mori, and Burke with her, not that she needs them, and also that Ran from Hana, and probably a buncha other scrubs.

… Honestly, you should be more worried about yourself.

Squawk!

You jump on your seat, heart flying up to your throat as you tear your hands away from your Red Ribbon, eyes locking with the crow. "… What?" you say, cautiously.

"Hungry?"

You jump again. Gods, this ain't doing wonders for your nerves. Your eyes lower down to the Boss'… burlap sack of a head. "… Yeah."

The head twitches. "Food. In fridge. Eat."

You blink, staring at him, unsure, but before you could even act on his words, the crow suddenly jumps off from its perch. You watch it glide around for a moment, circling the room, before slipping into the breakroom. You stare, unsure, towards the breakroom, unmoving from your seat, as you hear something being opened – a fridge, followed by some rustlings, and something being closed back again. A black blur glides out of the breakroom, but this time, it's accompanied something white; a rustling plastic bag hanging from its beak, with something inside – and you don't have to wonder what that something is as the crow descends onto the table, and plops down the plastic bag down before you. Its claws clatter on the table, shifting, turning to you, before it spreads a wing out towards the back. It stares at you. You stare back at it.

"What in the…"

"Food," you twitch towards the Boss. "Eat. Full."

Keeping one eye on your Boss, and another on the weird – weirder than it already was – crow, you tentatively open the box inside. You blink as a full round of icing-slathered cake with strawberries stare back at you. This is… you look up to the crow, then to the Boss. "… You sure?"

"Yes."

"… I ain't gonna take backsies, yeah?"

Well, that's a lie – if the Boss tells you to stop, then you're definitely going to stop, but it's gonna fuck you up, and you're also making super duper sure and clear.

"Eat."

You open your mouth, and then closes it. "Well, alright then," you mumble under your breath. There's a fork inside already, fortunately. "Digging in."

You take a chunk out of the round whole cake with the fork, and plop it inside your mouth. Your eyes widen as an explosion of flavor bursts forth. Sweet. Extremely, extremely sweet. But creamy, and buttery, and so full of fat, followed by pops of sweet and sour and cold juiciness as taste the strawberry jam, and the actual strawberry fruit slices tucked between the yellow cake slices. You nearly moan – it feels like you're committing something extremely, truly bad, and it's with great regret that you swallow it down. But then, you still have a whole ass cake still in front of you.

"Good. Be full," the Boss says, voice halting, almost creaking – you're reminded of the whistles of wind through the holes and cracks of your windows. "Be safe. Return."

You pause, turning to the Boss, frowning. "Y'know, if you're that damn worried, then you coulda join us."

The moment that leaves your lips, you immediately come to regret it. Fuck. He's the boss, and you're demanding shit out of him? You're fucked –

"No. Watch home. Scarecrow."

You stare at him. He doesn't elaborate. You open your mouth, and then closes it shut, a little loss for words as you continue to pick at the cake, plopping it into your mouth, and savoring every last drop that you can get. You won't die. You're not going to die. You'll get back. Yet all the same, this could also be your last meal. Quietly, you think on your Boss. Something tells you, that if Mao hasn't mentioned anything, then it's pointless to continue this line of questioning. Eventually, you finish the whole cake, and lean into your chair, full and happy.

"… Thanks, Boss."

"Good."

Then Mao comes back with a suitcase. She pauses, staring at the cake – or what's left of it: nothing and the box. "… Those were mine."

"I pay."

Mao jumps, blinking, staring at the Boss for a long time. "Huh," she mutters, surprised. Then chuckles, sauntering onto her armchair, and plopping down. "Alright then."

"… What's that?" you ask, eyeing the white metal suitcase.

Mao smiles crookedly. "Insurance, if things go badly. My insurance, specifically, so don't pull some reckless shit, okay? At least survive for a whole month before you go and keel over. If shit goes wrong, then…" she pulls out a white envelope from her pocket and slides it to you over the table. "Open this. You'll know what to do next. But do not open this, if things go smoothly," her eyes narrow, golden ambers flashing, almost glowing; you catch something flickering, sparking. You tense up. "Or I'll be fucking pissed."

[Instinct Check: Easy. Pass.]

A single pull of the trigger –

[Instinct Check: Hard. Pass.]

And it could be in seconds, or minutes, or hours, or days, or weeks, or months or years –

[Instinct Check: Very Hard. Pass.]

And then – death. Mao always hits her mark.

"I won't," you grind out, shivering. "And I don't go back on my word."

The intensity – the pressure fades away as Mao returns to her smiling self. "I know. I trust you."

"And I ain't gonna die," you add, mutteringly, and ignoring what she just said. "… What the fuck's up with people saying that to me today?" Mao smirks. You inhale, and then exhale, before nodding, locking eyes with her as you pick the envelope up. "Fine, alright, whatever. Let's do this."

Article:

WARNING! Welcome to the Final Week of your First Month – it's time to finish what both you and Mao did! You will be automatically picking the Job Request: [Extermination: Weeping Heartstrings (Urban Plague)] – should you survive this mission, whether you successfully complete the Request or not, you shall be immensely rewarded.

WARNING! Due to Time Constraint, you can only pick 1 Action to do before [Extermination: Weeping Heartstrings] commences! Choose wisely!

NOTE! You have 140 XP Banked left.

You Have 6 APs (Effectively 4APs)!

Jobs Requests (2 AP Each):

Path to 8th Grade: Completed! Congratulations – you are an 8th​ Grade Fixer in all But Name. Due to extenuating circumstances, the Hana Association will properly hand you your promotion at the end of this Week. You are now trusted to take Urban Myth jobs on your lonesome (though having someone with you is always recommended), and you will receive more Urban Myth Requests in the future, as well as the rare occasional Urban Legend Request, should you want to take it! You have become Experienced! When fighting against those less Experienced or lower Grade than you, you will receive a Buff/Advantage against them, but when you fight those who more experienced than you, they will receive less Buff/Advantage against you.

Path to 7th​ Grade: 6 Urban Myth Requests, or 12 Canards. (Urban Plague is worth 4 Urban Myths).


[X] Extermination: Weeping Heartstrings (Urban Plague). Moon, Sun's Ex-Lover, and the guy who first kicked off your career into the Fixer business, has been spotted heading towards Sun's apartment. Normally, that wouldn't require much of any concern, but Moon has Distorted, now dubbed as the Weeping Heartstrings, and has control over the whole of Vic's Office. This will be your first time dealing with Distortions, and you're going in blind without much knowledge beyond speculations over what the Weeping Heartstrings could do, and Mao herself doesn't think this is going to be a simple Request: Distortions are very 'funny' like that. Fortunately, Chief Vale managed to 'evacuate' Sun away from her apartment, but if you fail, that's only going to be a stopgap measure. Pay: 15,000,000 Ahn – After Cut, Before Split. This Request Takes Priority over Other Requests.
-[X] Mandatory: you'll go with Mao.

[] Neighbor(s) from Hell (Canard): Mister Toko has cottoned onto the fact that one of his neighbors – or neighbors – might be trying to kill him. Cause? Noise complaints. All of which goes ignored by the Landlord since Toko paid extra for his rent and does so always on time. Something that his neighbors do not always do. It appears that Toko is something of a musician – and people are… sensitive of musicians after the Pianist Incident. One day, Toko caught one of his neighbors stalking him to his work. It might be his paranoia, but regardless, he's willing to hire a Fixer in case he's right. Pay: 350,000 Ahn – After Cut.

[] Dreaming of You (Urban Myth): Miss Ann has been having nightmares since… well, since a few months ago. That's nothing new, of course, and she did ignore it at first. However, it has gotten worse ever since to the point that she couldn't do her work – a teacher, of all things! – properly. Recently, she has woken up with cuts, and bruises on her body, and she has requested the Scarecrows to guard her from… whatever's causing this. Perhaps even from herself. Pay: 800,000 Ahn – After Cut, Before Split.
-[] Go with Kai? (Recommended)

[] An Inequivalent Exchange (Urban Myth): Conflicts don't just happen between Fixers, and Syndicates – they also happen between 'civilians', the 'common people'. Mister Arnold is one of the many proud business owners in the matter of food transports – specifically fresh fishes. It's a whole industry. He's ambitious. Enter Miss Ratika, the owner of an equally as-large business in the same industry. She's also ambitious. And well, this type of thing is never pretty. Real cutthroat. Regardless, Mister Arnold has lost, and he's supposed to be delivering his 'letter of surrender' – that is to say, the deed, ownership, and everything to his company – in person to Miss Ratika. Mister Arnold also doesn't have any bodyguard, on the account of them being all dead. She has at least a good half-a-dozen 9-to-8 Grade Fixers on her person all the time. This is where you come in. Ideally, you all just need to stand there looking tough-like while the deal happens, but unideally, as it often goes, you are gonna have to extract Mister Arnold out there from Miss Ratika's building. Intel from our Sisters at the Yellow Path says that Miss Ratika is that kind of person. Pay: 1,500,000 Ahn – After Cut, Before Split.
-[] Go with Kai? (Recommended)

Side Activities (1 AP Each):

[] Someone to Hang Out With?
-[] Kai. Provided that you managed to survive your mission alive — no, she'll definitely live. And then, it wouldn't be… bad to hang out together, maybe sparring?
-[] Mao. Provided that you both managed to survive this mission alive, Mao promises to treat you for a feast.
-[] Sun. Provided that you live this through, you might be able to visit her bakery…
-[] Mori. Provided that you all managed to live this through…
-[] Burke. Provided that you all managed to live this through…
-[] Boss. For the first time, you spoke with Boss Daniel. You still don't know how that happened. Still. You don't think he's bad, and… maybe if you got back here intact, he would give you more cake?



[] Shopping Time – last time you went into the Market District, it was with the gang, and there's a sorta time-restraint then. Now, you have the time to look around a bit. You have money. You don't really know if it's enough for much of anything, but well… why not, right? You can also bring someone else with you, if you want.
-[] Who to bring? (Choose 1. Boss, Kai, Sun, Mori, and Burke Excluded. You can pick none.)
-[] What do you want to buy? (Choose 1: Weapons, Body Mods, General Items, Gadgets, Accesories, etc. Specify what type of weapons, body mods, or general items you're looking for.)


[] Burning Curiosity – For the first time in years, you've heard something about your parents – and that comes from Landlord Lin. You've already forgotten their face, their voice, and even their names. It doesn't bother you, no, but staring at the crumpled-up doodling of them… loathe as you are to approach him, you gotta know.

[] Time for Tea – Adil, your most recent neighbor, staying right across your room. She's… fine, you think. Okay. Granted, you only spent a good some minutes with her, but you also pass by her through the hallways, every now and then, exchanging greetings. It's… actually nice. And she seems to know something about your mom, and… well, you want to know.

[] One Month Celebration Party. There is, as it happens, a sort of tradition going on with Scarecrow Office and its Sister Offices, where at the end of every month, representatives (generally the Vice Chiefs) of each Office would come together and discuss over this and that. It's a private, and boring thing, Mao told you. This time, however, is going to be different. It's going to be a celebration party – for whom? For everyone, really, but mostly for the recruits who managed to survive within the business for a single month. That means you. (Mao grins, golden ambers curving almost into slits. "We get to basically boast over our juniors – that's you and Kai, by the way – and decide who got the best. And this time, I'm going to be the winner.") [Can only be picked as the Last Action of the Week.]