I leaned back, crossing one leg over the other, a new knife dangling lazily in my hand.
Across from me, Jackie was downing a beer in the creaky chair like he owned the place.
Probably cuz his mom did.
"Are you sure this is a good idea?" I asked, tilting my head, brow furrowed.
Where had this confidence come from?
Where was it a week ago?
And how the hell was he brave enough to talk about this here, in his mother's bar—El Coyote Cojo?
I could use some of that back then.
"Relax, chica! I'm totally sure!" he laughed, throwing his head back. Excitement plastered on his face.
"We just need to prepare a little!" He leaned in, going for a friendly shoulder pat—
Which I dodged, sharply.
"Prepare? You said we're dealing with a whole nest of Scavs!"
He nodded, looking just sheepish enough.
"Well, when you put it like that…" He scratched the back of his head. "But hey, we're just driving them out, right? For Padre."
I sighed, palming my face.
I should deny this. This is far different from what I've been doing.
It's only been smuggling and local gangsters.
It's frustrating—how much I want to say yes, even though every part of me screams hesitation.
Maybe if I had another week had I jumped at the opportunity?
But I don't think I'm ready for something like this, yet.
With just a week of commissions and training, I don't have the gear, or the confidence in my skills.
And there are myriad problems anyway.
Firstly, I'm not bulletproof.
One shot to the head, and I'm gone.
Secondly, Jackie's also not bullet proof. He'd die before even meeting V.
I sat up straighter, arms folded, mind spinning.
Still… I've been thinking about my task everyday—and I might have a plan.
It started with Padre. For two reasons.
One is me wanting to train solo from Jackie.
And two... to create a bit of distance.
After being sent here, selected as a recruit, something clicked:
Alongside [The Seer], I've been gifted enhanced learning.
And I've been using it. To learn.
Hand-to-hand.
Knives.
Guns, obviously.
But now, I'm focusing on a very specific skill—one I need for my plan.
And I... don't want Jackie to interfere.
"Hah…" I sighed, glancing back at him. That stupid grin still plastered on his face.
He knows I'll accept. He's seen how restless I've been lately.
"Fine. I'm in."
He whooped, throwing his hands in the air.
"I knew you'd come around, chica! You're damn talented—better than me at half this shit! You need a commission under your name that shows that!"
I waved a hand dismissively, giving him a flat look.
When do I care about reputation?
"Yeah, yeah. Can I go now? I've got prep to do for whatever insanity you just signed me up for."
He chuckled, nodding hard before flashing a thumbs up.
You just know he's gonna get wasted tonight and get yelled at by mama Welles.
"Go get 'em, tiger!"
I rolled my eyes and stood.
Time to accelerate my plan. Not like it matters much anymore.
I'd just hope to get more time.
———————
The cab ride to my new apartment was quiet. Comfortable, even.
But it made me introspect a little too much.
I stepped out, walked up to the megabuilding's elevator, and entered—it was already open.
I've always hated the space in my own mind.
Despite not being diagnosed with ADHD or anything similar... it just seems to accelerate at these moments.
Sighing, I rolled my shoulders and slipped a hand into my brand-new red synth-leather jacket, pulling out my phone.
Or whatever it's called in this universe.
I took a moment to bask in the outdated design, it gave me an odd sense of nostalgia despite only being gone for a week.
My fingers glided across the scratched screen and opened the notes app:
To-Do List:
• Bioware (bone lace, muscle graft, nanosurgeons, skin weave)
• Hand-to-hand combat skills✔️
• Knife combat✔️
• Marksmanship✔️
I stared at it for a while, LED lights casting pale rays down my back.
I wanted to imagine it washing away my worries. To stop me from thinking.
"Hah…" I muttered, thumb hovering as I typed the next section with a faint tremble.
• Find dirt on Militech/Arasaka
• Choose a convergence point
• Infiltrate and plant the evidence
It became harder and harder as I typed.
My fingers refused to cooperate, it felt lined with lead.
I tried to press on.
My thumb hesitated, trembling again.
Because this is it.
The moment I seal my fate.
Once it's done, it'll spiral beyond my control.
I'll doom them—to death, to chaos.
And I won't be able to stop it.
Am I ready for that?
My finger hovered over the backspace.
Somehow, the distance felt impossibly far.
The very idea of deleting that last line gave me vertigo.
A phantom ache pulsed behind my ear.
I-I just wanted it all to stop. For me to quit and just live here, to go on commissions with Jackie and forget all about the company.
I typed:
• Don't get attached.
My teeth ground against each other. Thousands of thousands of thoughts sharpened the bias.
It was all so hard, despite only being a week in.
But I have to do it. It was now my dream
I can't abandon that?
What am I then, when I broke that bridge?
Maybe it'll all work out.
And if it doesn't—then I'll just make it work.
One way or another.
DING
The elevator doors slid open. I stepped out, uncertainty and hesitation bleeding out of me with every step.
I've grown so soft, but that's a good thing. I'll understand what she felt when she looked at me, Alicia.
So I'll keep going, maybe I'll become someone I'm proud of along the way.
Then I won't regret anything.
Becausw to regret something is to admit you weren't enough.
That you could've done more.
Chosen better.
That there's road they could take but didn't.
So if I try my best—truly try—then I'll have nothing to regret.
Does a man regret a storm he couldn't predict?
No.
Not me.
I'll just try to weather it.
———————
"Hello, Mrs. Gloria. How's David?" I asked, smiling politely.
Gloria turned, her frown softening.
"Ah, Scarlet. I'm good, thanks. David's been fine lately—not much to report." She sounded relieved as she fell into step beside me.
"I see," I nodded. "Why don't you two come eat at my place? My treat."
It's been like this for a while now—me, David, and his mom.
Using money I might never get the chance to enjoy once my task is finished to feed them.
It'll be one of my first good deeds in this world.
She gave me a soft nod and walked ahead toward her own door, pulling out her keycard with a practiced motion.
"I'll go grab David," she said, voice a bit lighter now. "We'll be over in a minute, alright?"
"Take your time," I smiled gently. "Food's not going anywhere."
She gave me a look—grateful, and like she was gonna say thank you for the tenth time this week.
Then she disappeared into her apartment.
I turned and stepped into mine. Auto-locks clicked behind me.
The place was still new enough to smell, well, new.
It was hard work just to find this place.
Money's not the problem however, with how much work I've been doing in just one day.
It's just that how am I supposed to remember where David lived, without having watched Edgerunner?
I slipped off the jacket and tossed it over the counter stool, rolling up my sleeves as I stepped into the narrow kitchen.
My fingers flicked on the Induction stove.
More than once in my time here–I have to admit–that I've entertained the thoughts of trying cooking with the mantis blade.
Good thing I'm a sensible person.
The counter lit up in sections. Mama Welles had stocked me up when I asked for her help–not before chewing my head out after hearing I've been eating meal worms or scop my entire time here.
I pulled open the fridge. Vacuum-sealed synth beans, textured meat protein, faux-masa tortillas. Even a pouch of pre-spiced caldo base.
"how the hell does she even get all these," I muttered, gawking for the fourth time since i opened this fridge to the paradise of synth food items. By the time I'm done, my stove was already heating water and I dropped dropping in the base.
The smell of food comforted my exhaustion.
It didn't take long to get the pan hot and tortillas soft. I laid out three portions—oversized.
Because David was still a growing boy and Jackie told me to "feed him like he's gotta punch a wall after." It made me laugh, despite myself.
Maybe I also teased him a bit, who knows?
I was going through the motions, laid out three dishes, napkins and food before they rằng the doorbell.
"Come in," I called out, and the door creaked open.
David rushed in first, still in that school jacket he never took off. "Smells awesome," he beamed, already dropping his bag to the side and sliding into the chair closest to the stove.
It hit me that I almost tried to trip him, but I reigned myself in.
Gloria followed with a gentler pace, her shoulders a little less tight than usual. She gave the apartment a once-over, eyes landing on the warm plates and neat table.
"You've really don't need to do all this, Scarlet," she said, her voice soft, touched with guilt. "You know you've been... doing more than enough. Feeding us, easing things up. I don't know how to repay that."
I swallowed thickly, adjusting one of the cups on the table. The sigh that was bubbling up slipped backwards into my throat.
"It's nothing," I said quickly. Putting the bowl of Guacamole on the table.
But under my breath, so low it was barely a whisper—maybe only the apartment heard me—I added:
"Sorry."
Gloria sat down across from David. She smiled at me.
"Thank you," she said instead. "I mean it."
David was already halfway through his second taco.
"You cook better than half the city, Scarlet!" he grinned. "Where'd you even learn to cook?"
I chuckled, finally sitting. "El Coyote Cojo, mana Welles there make banging food."
And for a while, we ate in silence, peaceful silence.
Tomorrow is when I'll officially start my plan to fuck this place over.
After a while, David leaned back in his chair, letting out a satisfied groan.
"Ughh... I'm stuffed. I don't think I can move."
I smirked, scooping the last bit of guac with a chip. "You say that every time. Then you ask for more."
"Yeah, but this time I mean it." He patted his stomach like it owed him money. "Seriously, you're gonna spoil me at this rate."
"Good," I said, wiping my hands. "Means you'll owe me when I need a getaway driver."
He blinked. "Wait—what?"
I laughed. "I'm Kidding, mostly anyways."
He shook his head, grinning. "Man... between you and Jackie, I'm gonna end up in some wild gig before I'm even out of school."
"You'll be fine," I said, leaning back. "Just don't take advice from that vending machine flatterer."
David snorted. "Oh god. Jackie and that dumb soda bot. He really tried to flirt with it like it was a person."
"He claimed it winked at him first," I said. "And he still swears it gives him extra ice because it likes him."
"Well," David shrugged, "if it starts writing him love notes in caramel drizzle, I'm out."
I chuckled, shaking my head. "Fair enough."
The table settled into a comfortable quiet again. Gloria was smiling softly, sipping tea.
I again wondered how seasoned veterans of this profession do these stuff.
Must be an apathetic maniac, I guess.