"What's wrong with you?"
Finn was clearly startled. Turning around and seeing Putato had returned, his face immediately lit up.
He carefully carried the hotpot pot to the table and then cheerfully explained to Putato.
"I was thinking of actively looking for commissions, and I ran into Olivia the other day."
"They've gathered enough money to buy a Christmas turkey, but Olivia didn't come to pick it up today, so I'll bring it here."
You take on commissions like this?
Putato took the hotpot pot with one hand and, under Finn's surprised and bewildered gaze, threw it into the trash can. Then he looked at the exquisite turkey on the table. Olivia was standing under the table.
"Olivia, you come out first. I want to ask you about the experiment. Where exactly were you sent before? Are there any deeply memorable buildings?"
Olivia, seeing Putato wasn't angry, happily ran to his feet.
"I don't remember it very clearly, but when I got off the car, I saw a super big rabbit."
Where in The City would there be a giant rabbit?
"Is it the Rabbit's Room? White main body, with two red decorative rabbit ears."
Seeing Putato looking puzzled, Finn hastily pulled out his communicator and opened an electronic map.
It was a high-end residential area near the commercial district.
"How did you see it? Did they have a commission looking for you?"
"Uh, no, I found it when I was looking for a cat. That building block was quite distinctive, so I remembered it."
Putato didn't expect to find a breakthrough here. He immediately patted Finn's shoulder excitedly and turned to leave.
...
High-end residential area.
In front of him was a cartoon-style house. The windows were exquisite, but there were no signs of anyone residing there.
Putato stepped forward, intending to use his Honesuki to pick the lock, but was surprised to find that it used a smart anti-theft door lock. This solution was quite complete.
Knocking on the window, the sound intensity would probably attract someone before he could even break the window. This place was unlike other areas where he could cause trouble.
The Rabbit's Room was even more heavily guarded. Putato wanted to go in and see the results even more. Wym's apprentice lived here, after all, and the architectural style was very prominent.
After circling the room, Putato was surprised to find that the two ears were not just decorative; one of them was a chimney.
Aside from the Ring members' preference for spectacle, who else uses smoke from a chimney? Enkephalins are, after all, more fire-resistant than firewood.
Using the cover of night, Putato free-climbed the wall, grabbed the eaves, and pulled himself onto the rooftop. He barely managed to reach the chimney and quickly attempted to squeeze inside.
THUMP!
He landed on his backside, covered in ash. Putato, his mouth and nose covered, was thoroughly covered in gray. He groped around in the pitch black for a while before turning on the light.
A quick scan of the room clearly showed it was a girl's living quarters.
Suddenly, his communicator rang. Putato, confused, connected.
"Oh, Putato, I forgot to tell you my sister's name, didn't I?"
Putato walked to the bedside table, opened it, and found a diary. On it, "Parkye" was written in two beautiful scripts. He casually flipped it open.
"My sister's name is Parkye. Didn't I tell you before that she was sent back once? That time was fine, but now Parkye doesn't trust anyone. She thinks everyone is trying to harm her. Even I'm suspicious."
"Anyway, I'm sorry to trouble you. I'm already talking to Molar Office and trying to get a loan."
The other end actively hung up the call. Putato, however, was in turmoil, flipping through the diary with his hand.
The beginning was clearly Parkye's childhood records, mostly just a few lines of text, showing a carefree and privileged life.
Then came the entries from after she had lived at Parui's home for a year. From here, the text became paragraphs, though there were very few records about her brother.
A piano teacher who helped her with warm towels, an uncle who bought her expensive gifts, and a neighboring woman who taught her to paint.
Putato stared wide-eyed at the diary, which stated that she was actually Wym's daughter, and it was only due to the hospital reporting the wrong child that such a tragedy occurred.
Parkye even wanted to bring her brother to live with her, but Wym warned her about the disparity in their positions.
[In The City, everyone has their place they should occupy.]
Putato looked at this sentence with increasing confusion, hastily flipping back, then frowning.
The piano teacher, envious of her youth, beauty, and wealth, intentionally gave her the wrong medicine.
That uncle also embezzled her assets, turning against her so quickly that Parkye couldn't believe it.
Various incidents left Parkye depressed, with no heart for painting, and she was scolded and slapped by her neighbor.
The diary's handwriting became scribbled, each page a large block of text crammed together.
Until she sought Wym's help, and Wym actually lived with her, helping Parkye with groceries and mail, managing her finances, and encouraging her to continue her creative work.
Putato judged from the handwriting that her mental state had improved quite a bit, and impatiently flipped to the last page.
[Was it all a lie? There was no 'wrong child swapped at birth' incident, and I have no relation to Wym at all?]
[Why do you want to see me doubt? That's not art at all!]
Putting away the diary, Putato immediately understood what this place was for. He was somewhat confused why Wym's performance art seemed like she had gone mad.
However, this guy had only been on the scene for a few months creating artworks. Everything else was outsourced. It meant that in this room, everyone except Parkye was an actor.
Putato could roughly imagine what kind of situation this Parkye would be in when sent back to Parui's home. She was genuinely mentally ill, a pure creation of Wym.
Grabbing his communicator, Putato immediately dialed Smiling Faces.
"Wang, are you there?"
"Oh, contacting me in the middle of the night just to ask me this?"
"How much longer do we Smiling Faces have to keep operating so frequently?"
"Ah, that. That depends on when we've gathered enough high-grade ingredients. After all, you should know how picky the Chefs are."
"Have you heard that the nearby Ring has a Wym's solo exhibition? I heard she has experimental subjects whose wounds recover instantly after their skin is cut. They use them to collect fresh pigments for painting."
"My, my, that's the Ring, one of the Five Fingers. How dare we provoke them?"
Putato was a bit speechless. Smiling Faces, in the game's storyline, even dared to attack the general manager of Shi Association's Southern Branch. How could they be afraid of this and that?
An Urban Nightmare level Syndicate, as long as it didn't incur the deadly enmity of a Star of the City, would generally have no trouble.
"Her exhibition opens tomorrow. We can make our move during Night in the Backstreets. By then, those experimental subjects will be sufficient for submission. We don't even need to fight the Ring Maestros to the death."
"This is important intelligence I'm providing to the Syndicate. Even if you don't accept it, you must remember my contribution. Don't hold back when teaching me knife skills later."
"Hehe, so Putato is thinking about this, huh? Your target is indeed very appealing. I'll discuss it with the others."
Putato wanted to say something more, but Wang had already hung up.
This guy, with his rich experience, was indeed hard to deceive. Fortunately, Putato also had a backup plan with the neighborhood watch.
He lay on the pink bed, planning to borrow the Rabbit's room downstairs to sleep tonight. He had already communicated with the neighborhood watch.
...
The next day.
The morning sun shone through the window. Putato rubbed his head and rose from the soft bed. He hadn't rested so well in a long time.
He took out his communicator and saw that Smiling Faces' intelligence report had already arrived.
...
By the dirty river.
The distinctive crimson clothes of Smiling Faces immediately scattered the surrounding people. The old man fishing on the culvert also picked up his bucket and fled.
"Putato, you're a bit late, aren't you?"
Putato looked at the three smiling Masks, unable to discern their emotions or thoughts. Perhaps this was one of the reasons they wore Masks.
Mi, sitting on the iron railing, irritably clanged his smoke gun, clearly quite displeased.
"Yesterday, I went wading through that exhibition hall. Besides the experimental subjects, there were quite a few high-ranking officials and nobles."
"What exhibition hall?"
Jin, who was picking up a fishing rod on the ground, looked curiously at Putato. This made Putato immediately realize that Wang completely disregarded his words.
Even though his strength was not bad, as a newcomer, it was still difficult to gain trust. Moreover, he was recommended by the Chef; to them, he was an outsider.
"Hahaha, let's put other matters aside for now and return to today's mission. The target is that neighborhood watch."
"Speaking of which, we also randomly chose our entry point for goods in this area. We didn't expect to run into them this time, making Putato's first mission experience not so good."
"Since that's the case, let's deal with them, what do you think?"
The pitch-black holes on Wang's mask faced Putato, making Putato immediately maintain an unperturbed expression outwardly, but inwardly, he wondered if the other party was suspicious of him.
However, his Syndicate background was clean. If traced back, it was a perfectly legitimate criminal organization experience. His landlord was even Stray Dogs.
Fortunately, the other party didn't press further but casually accepted and got into the car.
The money transport vehicle started again. Putato couldn't transmit information via his communicator at this moment, so he could only explain Wym's exhibition hall to the other two.
"Wow, this is really good! The high-grade goods that usually take so much effort to find are all gathered here. It's much easier than getting exhausted every day sifting through a pile."
Mi immediately became excited, highly invested in such a delicious prospect.
Even Jin agreed to make their move during Night in the Backstreets; there was no trouble at all.
However, the two noticed that Wang hadn't spoken, so they didn't bring it up again. There was an unspoken understanding between them.
"We're here. I heard this is where those guys make their headquarters."
As soon as he got out of the car, Putato saw the roadside neighborhood watch propaganda column. It was plastered with missing person notices and short-term commissions. The most eye-catching among them was the warning notice from Smiling Faces.
This place felt like a military-grade residents' committee.
"What's that smell?"
The remaining three Smiling Faces members immediately looked around as soon as they exited the vehicle. They instantly saw green grenades being thrown from the neighborhood watch high-rise. As soon as they hit the ground, they emitted an unbearable stench.
Putato quickly retreated, covering his nose.
"ATTACK!"
A man standing on the rooftop of the high-rise shouted into a megaphone. The upper floors of nearby buildings immediately opened their windows and launched a volley of stink bombs, filling the entire street with noxious fumes.
"Ugh!"
Putato, leaning against the wall, retreated to the street but still couldn't stand upright from the stench. This was the weapon he had ordered the red hat to produce.
After all, Smiling Faces didn't kill people for fun like Wym. They also had to meet the KPIs given by their client. This was a deal with the Eight Chefs, and there would be no room for backing out later.
As long as this area reeked, it would cause trouble for Smiling Faces, forcing them to choose other cleaner areas to pick up goods.
The Backstreets lacked many things, but not trash. Those guys must have packaged all that filthy black water from the dumpsters.
"These psychopaths! It stinks to high heaven!"
Jin disgustedly retreated to Putato's side. Mi, even more furious, ran to the outskirts of the square, refusing to even open the money transport vehicle.
"Wang, let's call it a day. I don't want to go near that place at all."
"No."
Putato then realized that Wang's tone, though still amicable, carried a flavor of no refusal.
"If we're scared off like this, that method will spread. We must let them know this approach won't work."
"However, it's also not good to be too oppressive; otherwise, I can't stand being covered in stench every day. If I butt heads with the Chef, I'll probably get kicked out. So, should we just kill these people and move to another place?"
No one objected to the rhetorical question. Putato clearly felt the killing intent from Wang; it was hard to say he wasn't simply disgusted by the smell.
Hearing Wang's words, Mi and Jin couldn't help but chirp in, strongly resisting going in. They decided to stay put and wait for the smell to dissipate.
"Wait, I'll go."
"Huh? Putato isn't a chef? Can your nose handle it alone?"
"I was just a chef before. Although I joined the Syndicate to learn the trade, I know this gangster business very well. It's my duty to share the burden for the boss."
"Besides, for these guys who use such underhanded tactics, I alone am enough. I'll hang all their bodies on the lampposts."
"After all, I'm a member of Smiling Faces now. Don't you think, Wang, that having a former Chef helping out here will assist you in attracting clients in Backstreet 23 later?"
Wang chuckled, sizing Putato up and down, then nodded in agreement.
"Alright, alright. Speaking of which, you don't even have a Smiling Faces mask or uniform. People will think you're just a seasonal worker. Tomorrow, I'll contact the Carnival to get your measurements."
"I hope Putato takes good care of our clothes; they're made of good material, after all."
Only then did Putato realize that the red clothes worn by the three Smiling Faces members were also products of the Carnival. No wonder they could block arrows; that small fabric had far greater defensive power than steel armor.
However, this attitude seemed to be a formal acceptance of him.
"No problem. I'll wait until the smell in my system dissipates, then I'll go in. Do you want to wait with me?"
"I don't want to stay here. I'm too lazy to smell this stench. Wang, I'm going back."
"Right, didn't Putato mention that exhibition hall? Let's go survey it then. It's more efficient than wasting time in a place like this."
Seeing that the two also shared this attitude, Wang nodded, carefully covering both ends of his cigarette holder, perhaps fearing the stench would linger inside.
"Then that's settled, Putato. You take perfect photos of the hung people and send them to us. We'll go check out that exhibition hall you mentioned first."
"Since you're a member of Smiling Faces, you don't need to worry about future matters. Once this big job is done, I'll have time to teach you knife skills. That thin slice you cut last time was quite good, but from the same piece of meat, I can cut slices twice as long."
This guy's pie-in-the-sky promises were still very proficient. "Tomorrow, after this," all future matters—unlike Gyeong-mi's generous offer of an Executive position to Putato.
Putato felt that advancing within Smiling Faces would probably be exceptionally difficult.
After the three disappeared at the end of the street, Putato finally pulled out bandages and began to change his clothes. His hands also incessantly began to contact Red Hat.
Next was the life of a Vanda Fixer.
[Paso: Payment? No way!]
[Paso: Today, we ourselves chased Smiling Faces away. Didn't you see them run off in chagrin? What effort did you make? You want so much money from us just for that one clue you gave?]
[Vanda: Smiling Faces is also planning to abandon this place. You're not going to violate the commission contract, are you?]
[Paso: How could that be? It's just that you fundamentally didn't fulfill the commission contract. The neighborhood watch will complain and withdraw the commission. You think you can trick us out of our money just by talking?]
[Paso: Even if Smiling Faces comes again, we can still drive them away with blanks. I didn't expect such a renowned big Syndicate to still care about appearances.]
[Vanda: Did you forget?]
[Paso: Kid, you're holding onto the Workshop. Did you record a video or something? Without evidence, even the Association can't do anything to us, the commissioned party.]
[Vanda: What I mean is what I said before: I have people within Smiling Faces. Your memory seems to need some rebuilding.]
Putato silently removed the facial bandage and stuffed it into his pocket. He never expected that his first active commission would end up with him being played. This guy's understanding of his own position was truly nil.
WHOOSH!
A puff of cigarette smoke was exhaled, and the smiling face mask converged onto Putato's face.