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The Last Outlaw

In a world where the East reigns supreme and the West is but a distant memory, "The Last Outlaw" follows the journey of Q, a rugged Frenchman who awakens from cryo-sleep to find himself in a future dominated by a different culture and technology. Branded an outlaw by his natural different look in this new world order, Q must navigate the unfamiliar landscape of megacities and high-tech surveillance while grappling with his own sense of displacement and loss. As he embarks on a quest for redemption and survival, Q's journey takes him across vast deserts, bustling metropolises, and treacherous landscapes, where he encounters allies and adversaries alike. With the fate of humanity hanging in the balance, Q must confront his own demons and embrace his destiny as the unlikely hero who could change the course of history. "The Last Outlaw" is a gripping tale of resilience, identity, and the enduring spirit of the lone gunslinger in an uncertain future.

qmpro · ไซไฟ
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12 Chs

Chapter 8: Ice

Q, despite feeling out of place at the party, was the focal point of attention. However, in this society, that meant being viewed with cautious curiosity.

One refined gentleman approached Q, inquiring, "Tell me, Q, what is the name of your organization?"

Q, well-prepared for this question, replied, "I struggle to translate it into your language, but I personally refer to it as Francia."

The crowd echoed the name, "Francia."

Another man, repulsive in appearance and demeanor, with a tone as dry as his personal hygiene, asked, "And what is the size of Francia?" He was accompanied by a retinue of five stunning creatures, dressed provocatively and exuding an air of seriousness.

Q carefully responded, "To avoid any...misunderstandings, I can say that our capital city appears to be at least three times larger than this one."

The repulsive man, later introduced as Marius, pressed on, his smirk a stark contrast to the romantic atmosphere. "Three times larger than Circle 4?" he asked, as one of his companions attended to his back, scratching an itch beneath his undergarment.

Q averted his gaze, feigning nonchalance, and replied, "At the very least, yes."

Marius seemed to have obtained the information he sought and departed.

The room erupted into a flurry of questions, prompting Q to pose one of his own: "Gentlemen, as a newcomer to your culture, could someone enlighten me as to how your nation manages to produce such exquisite women?"

A diminutive man, later introduced as Mr. Farnsfort, Head of Operations for "the mother company," responded. He offered Q a firm handshake, which lingered a touch too long.

"Is this how you greet one another in your nation?" he asked, his tone tinged with curiosity.

Q nodded, "Indeed, sir."

Before he could respond further, another guest intervened, introducing Mr. Farnsfort as the nation's esteemed leader.

Q expressed his honor at meeting him, still grappling with the notion that a dwarf oversaw the nation's most beautiful women.

Mr. Farnsfort, slightly miffed at being interrupted, shot a stern glance at the gentleman who had introduced him, prompting the latter to discreetly excuse himself.

"Would you like to see, Mr. Q?" Mr. Farnsfort asked, his tone hinting at a deeper meaning. The crowd was now all eyes on them.

Despite his surprise, Q's response was immediate: "Yes."

Mr. Farnsfort nodded in approval, saying, "I appreciate your directness." Before departing, he added, "I'll send my chauffeur to your residence tomorrow at the first hour." Q nodded, but the COO was already gone.

Q noted that he had no creature around him. 

Q seized the moment to acknowledge Tia, who promptly approached him with Felicia.

"Gentlemen, the time has come for Q. We value your time and consideration, and we want you to know that Q's nation is open to partnerships."

Q returned to the entrance and was about to leave when he noticed the consul entering what appeared to be a cariol. The consul glanced at him, stepped into the cariol, and called out,

"Francia, right? Mr. Q?"

Q froze. He wondered why he hadn't asked such a question on the first day before even granting them diplomatic status. Was it deliberate?

Q nodded. "Francia," he affirmed, punctuating the air with his fist.

The consul offered a smile and vanished into the distant darkness. Q couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss. It all seemed too easy. 

Q had time to see some man going away from the cariol, in the darkness. This man had some kind of paper in his hands and something shined on his neck, some kind of neckless. 

As Q stepped out into the cool night air, the weight of the evening's encounters lingered heavily on his mind. The elegant facade of the party dissolved into the bustling streets of the city, where shadows danced in the glow of neon lights.

The encounter with Marius, though brief, left an unsettling impression. His probing questions hinted at deeper motives, concealed beneath the guise of casual conversation. Q couldn't shake the feeling that he had just scratched the surface of a tangled web of intrigue. Marius seemed as exited as Q to offer him this opportunity and Q knew he had to double the care. 

And then there was Mr. Farnsfort, with his lingering handshake and cryptic invitation. The sudden departure, leaving behind an air of mystery, only added to the enigma surrounding the nation's esteemed leader. Q's curiosity burned brighter than ever, fueled by a thirst for knowledge and a sense of unease.

As he made his way through the labyrinthine streets, Q couldn't help but replay the evening's events in his mind. The consul's casual mention of "Francia" sent a shiver down his spine. Was it a slip of the tongue, or a deliberate ploy to test his reaction? The questions swirled in his head, forming a tangled knot of uncertainty.

Lost in thought, Q barely noticed the sound of approaching footsteps until a voice broke through the silence.

"Mr. Q, I presume?" came a smooth, accented voice.

Q turned to see a figure emerging from the shadows, clad in the traditional garb of the city's elite. His features were obscured by the dim light, but his eyes glinted with a steely determination.

"Yes, that's me," Q replied cautiously, instinctively assessing the stranger for any signs of threat.

The man offered a polite nod before extending a hand in greeting. "I am Wei Chen, I am assistiing the consul and I am on a mission." He said showing some kind of identification Q coudn't read. His tone measured and deliberate. 

Q accepted the handshake, noting the firmness of Wei Chen's grip. "What brings you here?" he asked, curiosity mingled with caution. He just saw the consul going away. He had a shinny neckless Q recognized and had some kind of paper outside his pocket. 

Wei Chen's lips curled into a faint smile. "I believe we have much to discuss, Mr. Q," he replied cryptically, his eyes betraying a hint of intrigue.

And with those words, the night's mysteries deepened, drawing Q further into the intricate web of power and deception that lurked beneath the surface of this seemingly refined society. With each step forward, he knew that he was venturing into dangerous territory, where trust was a rare commodity and secrets held the key to survival. But Q was no stranger to adversity, and as he followed Wei Chen into the unknown, he resolved to uncover the truth, no matter the cost.

Q realized Tia and Felicia was absent, despite being just behind him an instant before.