Nolan returned home as if he'd just completed a simple errand.
In a sense, it had been simple. He'd just sawed a person in half.
Unfortunately, Dmitri's unexpected capture and coma had brought Nolan's resource replenishment plan to a grinding halt once again. He'd been planning to try the number from that private gun dealer, see if he could establish some kind of working relationship.
But before he could make the call, early the next morning, he received a strange phone call.
He'd been preparing to help his aunt clean the restaurant when his phone rang.
Nolan answered with a frown. To his surprise, it was Dmitri. Somehow, despite being in a deep coma, he'd woken up and managed to contact Nolan through a nurse's phone.
Nolan hesitated. Then he grabbed a thick wad of cash and headed to the hospital.
Whatever else Dmitri was, he'd tried to help. That deserved something.
Brooklyn Hospital's emergency reception desk was busy with the morning rush. After a brief inquiry, a Black nurse on duty gave him Dmitri's ward location. She mentioned that the patient was expecting visitors but warned that he needed rest. Keep it short.
Nolan thanked her and turned to leave.
As he did, he overheard a white nurse whispering to her colleague. Something about a man who'd been brought in last night. How he'd woken from his coma and had a complete breakdown. Cried for hours. Like a child who'd been traumatized beyond recovery.
Nolan's eyebrows rose. Dmitri's ordeal must have been worse than he'd thought.
But when Nolan found Dmitri's room and pushed open the door, the man sitting in the hospital bed was nothing like what he'd expected.
Dmitri sat upright despite the neck brace, his back straight as a rod. His eyes stared ahead with laser focus. His overall mental state seemed fragile, yes, but there was something else there too. A brightness in his eyes that hadn't existed before.
"Hi, Nolan!" Dmitri's face split into a brilliant smile the moment he saw him. He waved excitedly.
Nolan squinted. "Do you need me to call the doctor?"
The change in Dmitri's temperament and behavior was dramatic. Unsettling, even.
"It's okay, Nolan. This isn't your fault." Dmitri's smile didn't waver. "I have changed, inside and out. But I think it's a good thing."
He blinked several times, speaking with surprising clarity. "I don't quite remember everything that happened to me. But I know you saved me."
He reached under his pillow and pulled out a folded piece of paper.
"I remembered what you asked me for help with before." His voice was earnest. "So, to repay you for saving my life, I contacted my friends. I found someone. Aaron Davis, from Queens. He can provide what you need."
He handed Nolan the note. "This is his contact information. I already told him about you. You'll need to negotiate quantity and price yourself."
Nolan studied Dmitri carefully, searching for signs of deeper damage. Then he took the note and pocketed it.
He pulled out the wad of cash he'd brought and moved to place it on the bedside table.
Dmitri's hand came up, stopping him.
"I'm giving you this information because you saved my life," Dmitri said. He tried to lift his chin, and despite the swelling and bruising on his face, there was something almost luminous about his expression. "I used to be a bully. I hurt people. I wasn't a bad person, not really, but I wasn't good either."
His voice grew stronger. "Nolan, I want to be truly good from now on. Every penny I earn needs to come from clean work. So please, let me have this. Let me start here."
Nolan's frown deepened. After a long moment, he shook his head and pocketed the money.
He smiled faintly. "Dmitri, I hope you succeed. I hope you become a good person."
He turned to leave.
Just as he reached the door, he paused and looked back.
"By the way, Dmitri. Don't work in Manhattan for at least a year. Brooklyn and Queens are fine. If you trust me, listen. If you don't, forget I said anything." He nodded once. "Goodbye."
Nolan left the ward, leaving Dmitri sitting on the hospital bed, confusion written across his battered face.
The first thing Nolan did after leaving was advance payment for Dmitri's hospital stay. He left his phone number with the billing office, just in case.
As he stepped out of the hospital into the morning sun, he sighed.
Dmitri had probably experienced extreme fear and pain. The kind that fractured something fundamental. Even without being a psychiatrist, Nolan could see the personality changes.
Whether that was good or bad for Dmitri, he couldn't say.
Nolan sat on his scooter and pulled out the note. He dialed the number without hesitation.
After a short ring, the call connected. A male voice with a distinct accent reached his ears.
"Aaron Davis? I'm Dmitri's friend. Did he tell you about me?"
The conversation was brief. They agreed to meet in three days for the first transaction. If everything went smoothly, they'd establish a long-term arrangement.
Aaron quoted wholesale prices. Two hundred fifty dollars for brand new guns. One hundred for used ones.
Nolan chose the used guns without hesitation. Old guns were "murder weapons" with criminal histories, sure, but the simulator didn't care about a weapon's past. Long guns, short guns, it recovered everything in an hour.
The cheaper the source, the better.
Finally, the resource problem was solved.
Nolan felt considerably lighter. He glanced back at the hospital once, then started his scooter and rode away.
That night, after handling his aunt's errands and settling his affairs, Nolan lay on his bed with satisfaction.
He opened the simulator he'd been waiting days to access.
[Simulation starting...]
[Current identity: Catachan recruit, Krieg grenadier]
[Please choose your identity first]
[If you refuse, you will be randomly assigned]
[Identity selection has been refused]
[Simulation starting...]
[You have descended into the Warhammer universe]
[Location: Unknown Star Region · Roon V]
[You have descended onto the surface of the planet]
[You find yourself in a land of ice and snow, surrounded by countless snowflakes]
[You don't have time to feel the biting cold]
[You hear the familiar roar of the bolter and the desperate whine of laser weapons firing]
[You look toward the sound and see a Chaos Space Marine]
[The warrior stands 2.3 meters tall, his blood-red power armor festooned with horns and skulls]
[He has just torn a mortal soldier apart with his bare hands]
[He bathes in hot blood while bullets and las-fire ricochet off his armor]