Decisions

*Beep-Beep*

*Beep-Beep*

Ori blearily awakens to his holophone beeping, he grumbles about it for a couple moments before eventually relenting, staring up at the ceiling and looking towards the notification that appears in the corner of his vision.

[Kid, we're sortin' this out. Meet us at the waterfront East of Bellevue Overpass] - Max

...

[K] - Ori

He's about to roll out of bed when he finally notices the couple machines connected to him via a tube in his arm and some wiring in his Interface Port. Bats must've noticed his state and sorted him out, least he wasn't feeling like complete shit like he'd been expecting... Nanites were working overtime.

[System Report; Increased Density and Count of Adipocytes. Increased Efficiency of Gastric Acids, increased Acidity, Increased Acid Resistance of Stomach Lining. Digestive Tract Reinforced. Process of Cultivating Beneficial Microorganisms Started: Flesh Administrator]

He crooks a brow at that, "Yeah, that's not gonna make me forget the body takeover, saving my life or not..." he thumbs his temple, feeling a headache that was undoubtedly caused by whatever the nanites had done yesterday. "What exactly is 'Adipocytes'?" he questions.

[Fat, Energy Storage Cells. Increased Potential Energy Reserves Without Stunting Dexterity Or Flexibility: Flesh Administrator]

He disconnects the tubing from his arm and slides out of bed, heading into the bathroom and checking the mirror. Yep, just like he thought, he was back to his gaunt look again... He wasn't sure if the nanites used all of his fat cells for those upgrades, or if his fat was just too dense to be visible like it had yesterday.

Thankfully, his eye wasn't fucked up anymore. He checks it for a bit before nodding in satisfaction, happy there wasn't any permanent damage. He wasn't willing to risk testing the nanites effectiveness in healing such a delicate organ as an eye. They were already programmed to fuck with the brain, but the eye? He doubted it.

[Collective Request Increased Iron Intake For Nanite Replication: Flesh Administrator]

"Yeah, I'll eat more spinach or whatever... Couldn't I just swallow iron shaving or something though?"

[Collective unable to manually process metals, requires other technology: Flesh Administrator]

"Well, you're in my blood right? Couldn't I just bleed on something and have you deconstruct it?"

[Protocols 2415-2, JM2152, DFG2141-32, AR001 Prohibit External Action From Host. NMN Injector Required: Flesh Administrator]

"NMN Injector...?" his memory flashes back to the crazy old man and the knife he'd stabbed him with, was that what he needed to make full use of the Nanites...? "Do you know what the Injector looks like?"

[Negative]

"Well, that just adds another reason to find that old bastard...

------------------------------

An hour later Ori arrives at the destination Max had given, he steps out of his car with his new shotgun slung over his shoulder and the Holomask Bats had stolen from the Scav Rippershop, since his was now broken.

He spots Max and Six standing next to a pillar holding up the bridge above them... Next to that was a man chained to a concrete bench... Speks.

"O-Ori! Yo c-choom! H-hey tell these two they got the w-wrong guy!" the Fixer stutters out, his face bruised and bloody.

"We already got what we needed outta him," Max explains with crossed arms, "Decided that it was best that you decide what to do with 'im. Y'know, since he fucked you over first." he says and Six nods, almost encouragingly. "You look like shit by the way."

...

Ori's throat goes dry as he approaches, this wasn't what he was expecting at all... Not that he was complaining about their efficiency but. "You know the client?"

Max nods, "Yeah... Which is kinda a problem. It's a suit, a Corpo asshole, one that'll have a shitload of security." he sighs and ruffles his own hair irritably, "You sure know to pick 'em..."

"Hey, a job's a job! Y-you should be thanking me for getting us this opportunity!" Speks struggles in his chair.

"A Fixer is meant to pick the shit jobs out before handin' 'em out. You're lucky I've thought of a way to handle this." he growls at the chained man.

Ori perks up, "You do?"

"Yeah, but it's a long shot. I'll give you the choice kid, if we ditch this and forget about it, or pursue it and potentially get fucked in the process."

"We're doin' it." Ori instantly answers. He refused to have his first job go like this, it'd just set a bad president in his mind for the rest of his Merc career.

"Aight, here's the sitch. The guys we've been flatlining? The buddies of our client, Cleveland Fabrosi's kid." he states, causing Ori's eyes to widen, "Don't know why, don't care, all you need to know is that this gives us some options. Before I was thinkin' we just take the guy and his son hostage for the Eddies owed, but now we can actually gain more.

We'll contact Quentin Fabrosi and let him know what 'daddy dearest' has been up to. I'll be my legs he'll go apeshit, his dad hired us to do the dirty work for a reason after all. We'll have his kid hire us to off him, use his inheritance to pay us what we're owed... Understand?"

"Won't he be pissed off that we killed his friends?" Ori questions, it sounded like a plan doomed to failure...

Max grins, "Well, as far as he knows, we're just some guys who discovered this all after killin' some Mercs and their Fixer." he sends a glance at Speks.

"W-what!? No way that'll work! Besides! I-I used my real name in that transaction, a-and I won't give it up! I'd rather die!" Speks blurts out, squirming harder in his restraints.

"I'll be sure to write that on your grave, Allen." the Fixer pales at that, "What? I find dirt on everything I work with." he gestures at Six, "Him, you... Only person I can't find shit on is the kid, which makes sense given how green he is."

Speks, or better yet, Allen turns towards Ori with a pleading look, "W-we're good aren't we? You don't wanna kill the guy who gave you your first job! Right!?"

...

Max and Six watch intently as Ori looks at the ground in thought, his face was neutral, but his eyes displayed clear conflict... But this cleared rather quickly as he takes a deep, calming breath.

"What do we need from him? We need proof, right?"

The Merc duo grin, Six's far more subdued than Max, "Depends, NCPD uses facial ID and fingerprints if they haven't been scrubbed off or chromed over. What do you think 'Quentin' would prefer?"

...

Ori wets his lips while tentatively pulling the kitchen knife from his side, "Something he'd recognise, the head of the man responsible..."

"Addaboy."

"N-no! NO! PLEASE NO!"