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>>6173871

You adjust your tie, open the Manila folder on your desk, and review your latest Missions...
>Locate and beat the living shit out of a missing debtor somewhere in your strata of District P. "He. Must. Be. Punished." (Client: Headhunter Ratchet, H company; scrawled letter, cam recorder provided. Rewards: $500, ++Goodwill (TYRANT'S CROWN))
>There's a trade deal being brokered between a few Minor Powers. Deliver sensitive documents to the representative of Toha Heavy Industries. (Client: Unknown, blood-stained manila folder. Rewards: $800, Major bionic implant)
>"TROUBLESHOOTER, pretty please: 1. find the anomaly known as 'ATOM BOMB BABY' 2. secure it using the provided containment cube 3. deliver to dropoff point 4. proceed" (Client: Acquisitions Department, P Company; formal letter of request on printer paper. Rewards: $2000, +GOODWILL (POWERHOUSE))
>KITTY. CAT. RESCUE. (Client: Unknown; photo, crude crayon drawing on the back of a greasy Beetleburger coupon, and a phone number of... an M Company Administrator? Rewards: $???, ???, ???, ???)
>[TIME SENSITIVE] "Recover my stolen bottle of 2000 Caymus Cabernet Sauvignon. Its location is at this District L Nightclub. Thank you." (Client: Mr. Mochizuki, T-Company; high quality memo written in cursive. Reward: $350, +GOODWILL(TICK-TOCK TIME), +2 Bottles of Free Time)
>WRITE IN?

Hmmm... You tap the assortment of orders, once, twice, like knocking on your Office door.
- The first request sounds low risk, lowkey, and to be frank, this gentleman is certainly better off in your hands than in H Company's. However, Shivers work --- the art of finding things or people in a City --- isn't exactly your forte.
- Corporate affairs are where things start to become a little dicey, but as long as you've got your gun and a faster hand, you'll come out on top.
- An ANOMALY... That which breaks with the coherent logic of the waking world. It's a tall order but yowza! That's a few months worth of rent and then some.
- Well... a request is a request, isn't it? There's a reward if an Alphabet Company is involved with this, right? (You're no good with kids, admittedly.)
- This last job is the most straightforward of the bunch. No further comment.

>>6173879
Because you are just one man, and there are eight million just like you in the marvelous City under the earth, please choose ONE MISSION to undertake.

>>6173879
>[TIME SENSITIVE] "Recover my stolen bottle of 2000 Caymus Cabernet Sauvignon. Its location is at this District L Nightclub. Thank you." (Client: Mr. Mochizuki, T-Company; high quality memo written in cursive. Reward: $350, +GOODWILL(TICK-TOCK TIME), +2 Bottles of Free Time)
JOHN, you must DO A GOOD JOB.

>>6173879
>KITTY. CAT. RESCUE. (Client: Unknown; photo, crude crayon drawing on the back of a greasy Beetleburger coupon, and a phone number of... an M Company Administrator? Rewards: $???, ???, ???, ???)
Let’s go gambling!

>>6173879
>Locate and beat the living shit out of a missing debtor somewhere in your strata of District P. "He. Must. Be. Punished." (Client: Headhunter Ratchet, H company; scrawled letter, cam recorder provided. Rewards: $500, ++Goodwill (TYRANT'S CROWN))
Big goodwill gains

>>6173879
>KITTY. CAT. RESCUE. (Client: Unknown; photo, crude crayon drawing on the back of a greasy Beetleburger coupon, and a phone number of... an M Company Administrator? Rewards: $???, ???, ???, ???)

NO, NO, NO, NO. I don't care about time. I don't care about money. I don't care about goodwill. I NEED the mystery box. I REFUSE to have any other option.

>>6173879
>KITTY. CAT. RESCUE. (Client: Unknown; photo, crude crayon drawing on the back of a greasy Beetleburger coupon, and a phone number of... an M Company Administrator? Rewards: $???, ???, ???, ???)

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STOLEN WINE: 1WH
KITTY CAT RESCUE: FOu, 5n5, zHT
PUN. ISH. MENT: MiX
Alright, it's time for the most humble of Fixer tasks: SAVING LOST CATS. Writing.

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>KITTY. CAT. RESCUE.

Why not?

You like the little furballs and you're not yet screaming in debt. They like sitting in loaves, going around as they please, and them purring in your lap is the one of the last joys and purest loves left in this asscrack of the earth.

You review the case material you were given: the photo is of an ordinary black cat with sleek fur and wide yellow eyes. On the back of it, a girl playing with a cat is drawn in crayon. There's something scrawled here in a kid's handwriting:

"Dear Mister Cleaner,

Hello! This is my cat, Percy! (But INSIDE a photo! WOAW!) I love him with all my heart but now he's went missing and everyone else is too busy to help me find him! I lost him at the nextus train station at the 3th subfloor, 1st floor, 3th strata, district p. I'm not supposed to talk to anyone outside of the Company, so I'm giving you my big sister's business card instead. Please call as soon as you find him!!!

XOXO,
MGMT"

Cleaner?

You've been called everything else, from a "Fixer" to a "Freelancer" to a "right son of a bitch," but never once "Cleaner." These jobs get awful dirty and more often than not blood gets shed instead of sweat or tears. But maybe you'll just leave a little puddle today. Shouldn't be too hard right? Hehe.

And at the end of the day, a job's a job and you do wonder what kind of reward an Admin of M Company will give for helping her kid sister. They're big on their "corporate family values," anyhow.

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Let's get organized.

You review the rest of your belongings and take a general assessment...

JOHN SMITH
A Troubleshooter

ATTRIBUTES:
CORPUS: 3/3 (Physical Health Stat)
COOL: 3/3 (Mental Health Stat)
CASH: $500 (LIFEBLOOD)

ASPECTS:
[NORMALITY]
You are rather mundane and lack any weirdness and mutations. By and large, you physically resemble a baseline human.

EQUIPMENT:
- Taurus Raging Bull Revolver (6/6 .454)
- S Company "Black Standard" Suit (+Style)
- S Company "Black Standard" Tie (+Style)

Items:
- Photo of Percy
- M Company Contact Information
- First Aid Kit

How do you want to prepare for your Mission?
>Turn on the TV and take it easy. It isn't going to help, but you do want to watch TV.
>Call the local pet shelter. Maybe things are really that simple. (ODDS: PRETTY BAD)
>Visit a local store and purchase supplies. (Please specify the kind of store to visit.)
>Rush straight outside and get looking. It's only a few stops away by train.
>Write in.

You think about the allies you should bring to this Mission. A party of dudes and buffoons... (CHOOSE TWO.)
>CARMEN. A M Company Drone. A newer generation of worker with albinism and white eyes. Peppy and well attuned to the corporate heartbeat, but has the MEAT-fuel derangement shared by all M Company workers. ("Hello! Hello! Hello! Can we sell you some L Company sunscreen? "It's delicious, nutritious, and it polishes/cleans your teeth!")
>THE SECRETARY. Abomination. You found her half-dead in a dumpster and were pretty surprised that the black-haired nugget was still kicking. She works for you now. Loyal and an absolute monster in combat but lacks formal training. (*gurgling noises* *thumbs up*)
>FRANK. A P Company Acquisitions Agent. Some asshole wearing a bunny mask. You shot his best friend (brother?) in the back of the head and saved his life. He owes you one, a damn big one. Analytical and *competent,* but paranoid. ("ONLY IDIOTS COMMIT MURDER, WE'RE GODDAMN PROFESSIONALS.")
>FRANK. A P Company Handler. Some asshole with a bug head and full tactical gear. Experienced and well-equipped, but filled with deep-seated true anger. ("FRANKLY, HEH, I ENJOYED THE WAR.")
>NOBODY. You've been a solo Troubleshooter for quite some time and picked up some tricks of the trade and the harsh life lesson on why that's a bad fucking idea. (Prevents taking another other allies. Gain another ASPECT at the next opportunity.)
>NOBODY... FOR NOW. This is a job best suited for one person. You'll get it done. (Choose your allies at another time.)
>WRITE IN.

>>6174727
>Call the local pet shelter. Maybe things are really that simple. (ODDS: PRETTY BAD)
Worst case scenario, we can ask for one of those toys cats love.

>CARMEN. A M Company Drone. A newer generation of worker with albinism and white eyes. Peppy and well attuned to the corporate heartbeat, but has the MEAT-fuel derangement shared by all M Company workers. ("Hello! Hello! Hello! Can we sell you some L Company sunscreen? "It's delicious, nutritious, and it polishes/cleans your teeth!")
>FRANK. A P Company Acquisitions Agent. Some asshole wearing a bunny mask. You shot his best friend (brother?) in the back of the head and saved his life. He owes you one, a damn big one. Analytical and *competent,* but paranoid. ("ONLY IDIOTS COMMIT MURDER, WE'RE GODDAMN PROFESSIONALS.")

>>6174727
>Call the local pet shelter. Maybe things are really that simple. (ODDS: PRETTY BAD)
>NOBODY... FOR NOW. This is a job best suited for one person. You'll get it done. (Choose your allies at another time.)

>>6174752
+1
By rejecting all others, we might come across somebody new...

>>6174727
>Call the local pet shelter. Maybe things are really that simple. (ODDS: PRETTY BAD)
>>FRANK. A P Company Acquisitions Agent. Some asshole wearing a bunny mask. You shot his best friend (brother?) in the back of the head and saved his life. He owes you one, a damn big one. Analytical and *competent,* but paranoid. ("ONLY IDIOTS COMMIT MURDER, WE'RE GODDAMN PROFESSIONALS.")
>>THE SECRETARY. Abomination. You found her half-dead in a dumpster and were pretty surprised that the black-haired nugget was still kicking. She works for you now. Loyal and an absolute monster in combat but lacks formal training. (*gurgling noises* *thumbs up*)

Let's see...
CARMEN: 1WH
FRANK: 1WH, fVl
NOBODY: FOu, zHT
SECRETARY: fVl
I'll call this a tossup between FRANK and NOBODY. I'll wait or see if there's a tiebreaker somewhere after Church, but if not, I'm breaking it myself.

For the local pet shelter, please roll a d100 for LUCK. DC: 70

CAPTCHA: M0TH (heh)

Rolled 64 (1d100)

>>6174727
>>6175266
>FRANK
Gotta go with my boy

Rolled 47 (1d100)

>>6175266
rollan

Rolled 54 (1d100)

>>6175266

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With how inconsistent the City is with maintaining a coherent urban morphology, it's awfully difficult to navigate the streets and passageways and even more so for someone who's just moved into this District. You don't have the intuition or knack that some other people have in walking the fallen city. Locating the shelter in place and time will be a pain in the ass.

The good thing is that you have a T Company phone plan, so you can just call directly. Time to use up those well-spent minutes. You crack open the phone book and search for the local pet shelter in that area.

"Hello, Urban Rescue Shelter? I'm calling on behalf of a, uh, family friend who's missing her black cat—"

>64, 47, 54
>FAILURE

"Sorry sir, but there are no black cats here. We only find dogs here. Mutts, mongrels, corgis, foxhounds, acrids, some kind of weird red insect-dog thing. You'll want to call at our sister—"
You hear a terrible screeching sound in the background.
"Shit."
You stay on the line for a moment. You'd like to ask about any pet toys or some tips in finding lost pets. The sounds of a struggle intensify.
"It’s chewing my face off, stop it stop it, mwharg helf—"
"Get off of her, you fucking—!"
The call goes dead.

Ah, well. So much for that.

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You let out a familiar-tasting sigh of disappointment and relief. Looks like there's no getting out of this one. Boots on the ground and fingers on the floor --- you're a Troubleshooter and that means you have to earn today's bread. At least, you'll learn more about this new District after the job's done.

A few thoughts float by, but you settle on grabbing one of them: you'll need some help with this.

Carmen? A sweet girl but mostly harmless and too corporate. Pass for now.
Your Secretary? You're not looking to bust heads with the one woman wrecking crew today.

You tap your chin and finger the keys on the fliphone.

As it turns out, you know a guy.

FRANK TALKING (Scattle - It's Safe Now) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LXxxnspPJWw

"FRANK."
"WHAT THE HELL DO YOU WANT, JOHN?" The voice of the Agent snarls on the other end.
"What? Is this a bad time?"
"YOU'RE CALLING ME ON A SUNDAY, JOHN. FOR ONCE, I'M NOT BUSY BUSTING MY ASS OUT THERE AND I ABSOLUTELY KNOW YOU'RE LOOKING TO DRAG ME OFF INTO THE WILD PALE YONDER ON ONE OF YOUR DAMN MISSIONS AGAIN."
"You're not busy? That's good."
"FUCK OFF."
He hasn't immediately dropped the call, so you know he's listening for what you have to say next.
"Here's the scenario: There's a missing persons incident—"
"YOU'RE BRINGING ME OUT ON MY SUNDAY OFF TO CHASE AFTER A LOST CAT?"
"Woah, hey. Slow down, asshole." You can't help but chuckle at his lucky guess. Already the bastard's breaking out his crazy mindreading instinct. "Yes, it's a missing cat case ("PFFTTT, SURE."), but here's the kicker: it's M Company who's making the request."

There's an audible silence as your words settle in. The Alphabet Companies, as a major part of the Powers that Be, hold an incredible amount of power and influence over ordinary City life. P Company is referred to as the Founder of the City for this reason. Getting official request from one of them, and from one of the most prolific Companies on top of that, means dropping everything to see it through. (This job isn't actually official, you think, but you're not telling Frank that just yet...)

"...WHAT'S THE REWARD?"
"Dunno. Didn't say."
"NGHGHGHGHG. THAT'S M-COMPANY FOR YOU ALRIGHT."
"I'll take your word for it. I'm not the Agent here."
"HAH. RIGHT, WHERE ARE WE MEETING UP?"
"Meet me at... the Corduroy Station in 30. Bring your stuff."
"DEAL."
*click*

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>>6174727
>two Frank’s

This world is not prepared.

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CONVERGENCE (Suits: Absolute Power OST - Main Station (Extended)) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QrJkaxevrLE

I loiter in the hall of the station, with my hands in my pockets.

Here and there in the passing crowd are the faces of friends, and foes, and all of them are yet strangers to me as I remain silent and unmoved in the flow.

A business woman with grease smearing her lipstick. A frowning man with a stern face holding onto a small girl. An Agent — because Agents, those who serve the Companies as their hands and eyes, carry themselves with pride and purpose in the way that only Agents do — wearing a wide grin and a stolen officer's uniform. A man swaggering past in a red and black checkerboard suit. A masked woman with clothes patterned after the night sky and its false stars.

And so on.

Until the person who I wanted to meet arrives.

The rabbit-eared, bunny-masked Agent hops off the train with a ticket clutched in his hand. He's dressed in a sharp-looking notched-lapel gray suit and he moves swiftly and with purpose. He glances around at his surroundings as he approaches, his ears swiveling this way and that, and I offer a grin in welcome.

"WHAT'S IT GOING TO BE THEN, EH?" he states.
I take him aside and fill him in with what little information I have.

>FRANK SMITH has joined the party!

FRANK SMITH
Acquisitions Agent, P Company

CORPUS: 3/3
COOL: 4/4

ASPECTS:
[GEARHEAD] Used to using whatever's available in the field to do a good job. Has a working level knowledge on all things mechanical and can do simple repairs on the fly.
[PIERCING VISION] Claims to have 20/10 vision, seems to have far better vision than even that. Can observe his surroundings and aim a good shot, regardless of (most) conditions.
[LINGERING GRUDGES] A lot of people are his enemy and a lot of people see him as their enemy. High chance of encountering people he slighted during a mission. Expect trouble.

EQUIPMENT:
- Winchester Model 70 (4/4 .30-06 Springfield)
- S Company "Vigil" Suit (FOCUS)
- S Company "Black Standard" Tie (+Style)
Suit Bonus: FOCUS - +1 COOL. +1 reroll on any roll.

How should you begin? (Take as many or as little as you want.)
>Split up and start searching the local area. That way you can cover more ground.
>Start asking the locals for any information or directions.
>Find a phone booth with a phone book and try to find a local library to print some posters.
>WRITE IN.

>>6175922
>Split up and start searching the local area. That way you can cover more ground.

>>6175922
>Start asking the locals for any information or directions.
>Find a phone booth with a phone book and try to find a local library to print some posters.

>>6175984
+1
Who says we can't both learn on the job? Sunday is the best day to go READ A BOOK NIGGER (you sure are stupid)

>>6175922
>Start asking the locals for any information or directions.
>Find a phone booth with a phone book and try to find a local library to print some posters.

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Being at the station already, you call at the free Navigator service line who was glad to tell us precisely where to go.

"Go up, take a left, go straight until you see the TV tree — don't actually look at that, if you know what's good for you — and then there you have it."
"Uh huh, thanks."

Kind of like a living GPS but paid for with your tax dollars and actually capable of conceptualizing the right directions in spite of local spacetime distortion. Thanks to N Company, there's always someone to guide to your destination.

=============

You're moderately surprised at the library being open on a Sunday morning. Pleasantly so. Could be one of the time zones moving around, but you chalk it up to serendipity.

As expected, there's only a few patrons loitering about inside. You notice that one guy looks too professional to be here among the families and stray students, typing away at several huge blocky monitors with a worried expression. Some kind of assistant sub-executive type, judging from the gold watch.

We make a few photocopies and try not to look too guilty of using up all the ink. One of the library patrons, some sucker with a full body prosthetic, looks intently at the pictures as they slide out onto the printer tray.

"DOES THIS CAT SEEM FAMILIAR?" Frank asks after the cyborg stares for just a little too long.
"SORRY, JUST MY IMAGINATION," drones a tinny male voice from his chest area. Frank's ears twitch at the discordant noise and librarian looks up with a nasty glare. "SORRY AGAIN. I MUST BE GOING NOW."
"GET OUT OF HERE."

Your ally hands you a stack of posters.
"KITTY. CAT. RESCUE," he announces dramatically.
You pump your fist.
"Let's go!"
"SHH!"

=============

One hour passes.

We ask the people around the station where the cat was last seen.

"Excuse me, sir. Have you seen this cat?"
"I didn't see anything," mumbles the addict bundled in sheets.

"OFFICER. HAVE YOU SEEN THIS CAT?"
"NOTHING TO REPORT, CITIZEN," the Officer plays the response on his stock line tape recorder.

"Have you seen this cat?"
"No sir," mutters an Agent type clearly failing to be inconspicuous. "Now get the hell out of here, you're making me nervous."

"HAVE YOU SEEN THIS CAT?"
"No, sir! But I have seen a few cute posters just like this one for kitty kib—"
Frank spins on his heel and walks quickly away from the Drone.
"DAMN ADVERTISERS!"

=============

Two hours pass.

We start hanging posters.

"THIS ISN'T REALLY HOW I IMAGINED SPENDING MY SUNDAY OFF," your companion remarks out of the blue.
"Aren't you glad that you aren't being shot at for once?"
He mulls it over. "IT'S OKAY, REALLY."
"Just okay?"
"YEAH."

The corporate Agent does look out of place running an errand like this. You both do, come to think of it.

I brush aside a dozen fake missing children posters and add our own "HAVE YOU SEEN THIS CAT" to the numerous earnest pleas and gibberish phrases stapled to the telephone pole.

>>6177587
IDLE MOMENTS ((8/28) Chris Schlarb - Waltz of Urban Blight) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6Am0cihLbXM

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We take a break for lunch.

"I CAN'T BELIEVE SOME SNOT-NOSED BRAT AT M COMPANY CALLS A GROWN MAN FOR THIS INSTEAD OF GETTING ONE OF HER 'SISTERS' TO DO IT." Frank saws into his diner steak at a measured pace.
You drum your hands on table as you think. "Kids aren't known for being patient. She must have seen my number and called it on impulse." You smirk. "The client has a problem and so I fix it."
"THAT'S A BIT CREEPY. HOW'S A KID KNOW WHAT YOU DO FOR A LIVING?"
"My reputation precedes me."
Frank lets out a derisive snort. "LITTLE FISH IN A BIG POND." He motions with his a piece of steak on his knife. "DON'T GET AHEAD OF YOURSELF IS WHAT I'M THINKING."
"Yeah, well..."

That's the truth, but you don't say it. You're well sought by your clients but not famous enough to anyone really important. It's matter of fact that it suits you and your way of life.

You couldn't find a way to refute it so you simply leave it at that.

=============

And in the third:

"Mmrrph." The peeper cat looks at you with all of its eyes. It sloshes and quivers like fine protoplasm as you gently take its bucket with both hands.

"You can keep the bucket..." The voice of the shut-in City dweller exhales from the crack in the doorway.

"Thank you Miss." You hardly get the words out before the door is closed on your face.

Well, these sort of people appreciate a quick conversation. There's more of them nowadays, so you've become used to dealing with them.

"HOW'D SHE GET YOUR PHONE NUMBER FROM INSIDE HER HOUSE?"
You shrug. "Same way the client must have."
"FAIR."

ACQUIRED:
PERCY (He looks more like a "Tom," to be Frank.) [MISSION OBJECTIVE]

"HE LOOKS MORE LIKE A TOM TO ME."
"You said it, buddy. Now let's go find a payphone for this one, I'd like to save some minutes on my plan."

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TROUBLE (Syndicate Soundtrack - 3.Danger) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S8u_4HiiyxM

Only after a few minutes on the streets, there's a tap on your shoulder.

"John, stay calm and keep walking," Frank whispers. You have to strangle the urge to tense up. When Frank breaks out that quiet tone of voice, you understand that something is afoot.

"Who's it?" You ask.
"That tincan from the library is following us."
"Just one?"
"Just him for the last few minutes. Couldn't see any others, I checked."
"What are we going to do about him?"
"I know that kind of model. It's a piece of shit with a really bad weak spot. Give me an opening and I'll blast it apart in one shot."
It would be easy to resolve this just like that, but it seems rather troublesome to get into a proper firefight on a Sunday morning. You could do it but your heart just isn't in it. "Look, I'll go and talk to him first."
"What? Don't be an idiot. There could be more of them." A pause. "Somewhere."
"It's a small time job if someone sent him." You wave a finger in the air. "A snatch and grab by one man for one cat."
Frank's ears twitch. He's getting a little agitated. "It's a small time job and that's why there's at least two of them. I'll kill this guy and you look for the other."

What do you want to do?
>"Yeah, I'll go distract him. You move up on ahead and fire a bullet that won't miss."
>"How about we both confront this guy? A show of solidarity will intimidate him before he acts."
>"I'll make the call first. If he tries anything, fire away."
>WRITE IN.

>>6177594
>"I'll make the call first. If he tries anything, fire away."

>>6177594
>"Yeah, I'll go distract him. You move up on ahead and fire a bullet that won't miss."

>>6177594
>"I'll make the call first. If he tries anything, fire away."

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>>6177777
Checked.

>>6177777
KNEELING

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>>6177777
>>6177807
And then John shot his troubles all over the City. Can't miss a golden opportunity with this one.

>>6177836
Truly.
this is the Troubleshooter of all time.

>>6177777
Kneeling. +1

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>"I'll make the call first. If he tries anything, fire away."

Frank nods and takes the rifle off his sling before you continue, walking two steps closer to your back. You're reminded of his brother for a moment; the gesture looks tough but a little unsubtle. You hem. Well, men in sharp suits with guns is a sight common enough to not blink at.

It's a matter of fact that life in the City is dangerous. (They say that violence is the City's language of love.) In some Districts like 7, 8, and 13, open carry is entirely acceptable due to the inherent danger of simply being there. But you wouldn't walk into a police station crawling with Officers with a loaded gun in your hand, now would you? In the City, it's important to follow your heart, but also to read the room.

Anyway.

By pure happenstance, you find a lone payphone in a quiet sidestreet. There's nobody else around.

A sudden thought comes to you. "You got any spare change, Frank?"
"NOPE. BENNETT DRAGGED ME INTO THE ARCADE THE OTHER DAY. WE HAD A BIG SACK OF COINS COMING IN BUT NOW..." He vaguely gestures downwards. "PFFFTTT."
"Ah. Well." You pat yourself again. "Here we are. Wait here, alright?"
"STAND HERE AND LOOK MENACING. GOT IT."

This rusting box has clearly seen better days, but the chained phone book looks to be in relatively good condition. You pick up the receiver, listen for the tone, slip in a few quarters, and enter the number.

Calling...
Calling...
Calling...

click

You get the inexplicable feeling that you're extremely lucky to get this connection.

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BIG SISTER (Star Fetchers Unreleased OST - Dont Be A Stranger (Save Stick Theme) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bKoFenKOrp8

"The person you are trying to call is not here right now..." A soft monotone of a young woman, in an almost perfect impression of an automated voice recording, comes through the receiver. "Please leave a message after the beep..."

"ACHOO! Uweugh..."

You snicker. "I hope I'm not interrupting something."

She lets out a heavy sigh followed by the sound of rustling fabrics. "Alright, alright. Trying that was worth a shot. This is, uh, Jo-Jane Smith, the secretary for Miss Meat. Who is this and how did you get this number?"

A "Miss" of M Company. You've heard that title thrown around during a few past conversations with Frank. Apparently, only a special type of Drone is selected for promotion to an Administrator of M Company. (You're not exactly sure if they're made-to-order or are selected from their "extensive talent pool," as Carmen puts it. You're not really sure if that was meant to be another one of M Company's weird innudenos.)

This Jane might be important, so you conduct yourself professionallly.

"Hello, this is John the Troubleshooter. I've just completed a request for M Company Management. I have here a little Percy, formerly lost." You lift the bucket and, as if taking the cue, the peeper cat lets out a muffled meow. "As for the 'how,' I was given this number as part of the initial request and instructed to call when the cat was secure."

A short huff. "Well, my li— the big sister reached out to you, did she? I —"

"MGMT, the request was signed." Mmm. You interrupted her. She is speaking a little slow, in your defense.

"Slow down, you nosy boy." You hear her grumbling, muttering to herself. "Ugh, my mind's all over the place right now. Listen buddy, I'm going to be straight up with you, that right there constitutes a major breach in Company security. This number is meant for internal use only..."

"I've completed the request as it was written," you say, cooly. One of those *those* Corporate types, eh? You'll need to lay down the law before this gets out of hand. "If you're trying to give me any sort of corporate punishment, you don't have any leg to stand on seeing as I'm an outside—"

"No, no, no. Wait up." You hear a agitated, harsh noise coming from between the teeth, followed by the sound of someone getting out of bed. "Just give me the address of your Office and I'll come down there and sort things out."

You give her the address.

"Uh huh, got it. I'll get dressed and be there in 30."

Jane hums to herself. With a trace of a smile, she adds, "And uh, before I forget, Joan. John, right. I just wanna say thanks for helping me out with this. Miss Management's been worried sick about Percy all week."

You grin. Looks like the end of this little errand's in sight. Finished, just about.

File: COMBAT1.png (35 KB, 1129x567)

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But before you can respond, the faint clicking of a gun causes you to turn around.

"Mrrrrrp?" Percy rises up from his bucket.

"HEY! BACK UP, ASSHOLE!" Frank shouts before raising his rifle to the approaching figure. The long thin head of the cyborg bobs unsteadily, but swiftly on its mechanical gait as it passes under the street lights. From darkness to light to darkness again.

"Listen, I'll see you later Jane, there's something going on outside." You hang up the receiver and put your hand to the Taurus under your coat. Your heart begins to beat in anticipation. Frank's fingers tighten around the trigger. Yes, feel the rapid beating of your heart, crawling into your hands, your head, this familiar pulsation, it's coming back to you, it's calling to you—

Your eyes dart to the left. Movement!

"FRANK, YOUR NINE!" Before your ally can turn around in time, someone lunges right at him from the darkness.

"I FUCKING KNEW IT!!!" Frank screeches at the top of his lunges as he raises his rifle up at the second robot.
FRANK LOSES 1 COOL!

R COMPANY AMBUSH (Bunny Kill 5 - Scene 4 : Double Trouble) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oGhC0b4jRqg

The newcomer grabs at Frank's rifle and pulls with all his might! The Agent holds on but the barrel is shifted downwards—!

POW! The shot drives directly in the sidewalk!

Frank aims a mean kick at his leg, but there's a metallic clang as the cyborg holds its ground! And in the struggle for the gun, between the man and the machine, the machine was getting the best of it, as machines will. You unholster your revolver with a smooth motion but in that split second, you see the first robot closing from at a few feet away. His arms are emitting an audible hum, revving up and ready to bash in Frank's brains from behind.

You can only react...
>Intervene in the melee and try to blow out the cyborg's brains before Frank loses his gun. (ODDS: RISKY)
>Open fire on the other guy before he ca get a hold on Frank. (ODDS: SLIGHTLY LESS RISKY)
>Hold onto Percy, get the fuck out of dodge, and abandon Frank to his fate.
>WRITE IN.

>>6182123
>Intervene in the melee and try to blow out the cyborg's brains before Frank loses his gun. (ODDS: RISKY)

Star Fetchers? Based. Still miss the original demo soundtrack.

>>6182123
>Intervene in the melee and try to blow out the cyborg's brains before Frank loses his gun. (ODDS: RISKY)
>WRITE IN: "ARTHUR, TAKE THE OTHER ONE!" Bluff that backup is arriving. Hope to god the robots are dumb enough to look, even for a brief moment.

>>6182132
+1
Well we gave them the benefit of the doubt and ate shit for it. For the rest of this mission, we will not have such mercy again

Seems we're all in agreement.
Please roll
>1d100-10 for JOHN. (-10 from DISTRACTION.) Roll under: 55.
>1d100 for FRANK. Roll under: 55. 1 REROLL AVAILABLE.

SYSTEM NOTES:
- Criticals are on matching numbers (11, 22, 33, etc.), critical successes are on natural 1s, and critical failures are on natural 100s.
- Minus modifiers is dice1d100+-10 in the options field. (This one was a bit of a doozy.)

Rolled 64 - 10 (1d100 - 10)

>>6182439
DISTRACT

Rolled 26 (1d100)

>>6182493
>beat DC by 1
Should not work but it did, nice

>>6182439
Rollan

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Rolled 45 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>Intervene in the melee and try to blow out the cyborg's brains before Frank loses his gun. (ODDS: RISKY)

Frank is moving too much to risk trying a shot right now! You need to get closer!

>"ARTHUR, TAKE THE OTHER ONE!" Bluff that backup is arriving. Hope to god the robots are dumb enough to look, even for a brief moment.
>CLOSE SUCCESS!

Your shout has no effect on the two men fighting for their lives, but the approaching cyborg swivels his head right towards you and pauses, as if to call bullshit on the empty threat.

Good enough!

Taking advantage of the golden opportunity, you dash forward, duck under a sudden sideswipe, and put barrel right up to the robot's side!

PTANK! The sound of a bullet punching through metal rings throughout the empty streets! A fine mist of black tar covers your arm. The assailant's body shudders as if desperately trying to compute the meaning of the new hole put into his chest.

The vice grip he has on Frank's rifle weakens.

>FRANK: SHOVE IT OFF!

Frank wraps an arm around the barrel and smashes forward with his shoulder, using the momentum to wrench his rifle back into his hands! The staggered robot stumbles, trying to regain balance, but the Agent tilts his rifle and instantly blows a second hole into his chest!

You hear a strange mechanical noise from within the torso as his limbs lock up in unnatural angles. The weak spot! Unable to move his body, the braincase can only turn to look at you in what you think is unadulterated panic before the cyborg topples backwards and smashes onto the hard ground.

KERCRASH! The glass case shatters, painting on the sidewalk a beautiful spray of cerebrospinal fluid and fine glass shards. Alright!

The Regulator model is incapacitated!

"THE CAT!" intones a voice from right behind you. Your head turns...

RETALIATION DICE.
TARGET: JOHN

1d100+10
+10 (Genuine distraction: THE TARGET!)

Rolling under: 55.
- It is much better for you if the Retaliation check succeeds.

>>6182990
Jesus fuck, we have a knack for barely passing stuff.

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>>6182990
>EXTREMELY CLOSE FAILURE!!!

And see the fluid form of Percy spilling from his bucket and escaping out onto the dark streets.

You shout and the entire world plunges into the black. All you can see are the false stars of the City's night sky glimmering like diamonds in the darkness.
JOHN LOSES 1 CORPUS! (2/3)

When you come to, with blurry vision and the taste of blood in your mouth, you see the shining yellow eyes of that fucking cat getting further and further away.

A glance behind you reveals Frank furiously racking the bolt of his Model 70 and the robot bobbing and weaving with his hands up and his head down. Hands like Goddamn hammers...

Your head is killing you right now and you can't seem to think straight. But you need to do something!
>???
>???
>???
>WRITE IN.

>>6183027
Shit. Okay. You know what, let's do something funny.
>"TOM! TOM, COME BACK HERE!" IT'S A TOM. IT KNOWS THIS. IT MUST OBEY.
>IF IT DOESN'T STOP, GRAB BUCKET AND TOSS IT AT CAT, HOPING TO LAND IT RIGHT ON CAT.

>>6183037
To clarify, the idea is to land the bucket so the cat's trapped underneath an upside bucket. Not to bonk it on the head.

>>6183037
+1

Please roll
>1d100-20 for JOHN. Roll under: ???
-20 (?CAT COME TOM?)

- [CONCUSSION] (1 turn) Difficulty checks are hidden and character plans are write-in only, due to the temporary brain damage.

And roll
>1d100 for FRANK. Roll under: 55. 1 REROLL AVAILABLE.

Rolled 44 - 20 (1d100 - 20)

>>6183633
ROLLING FOR BUCKET PLAN.
Please, god.

Rolled 88 (1d100)

>>6183635
Rolling for FRANK

>>6183638
>24
That's some really good roll under value. It better have worked

>>6183678
>failure
OH NO NO NO NO BROS
Do I reroll this? I don't fancy FRANK's chances at being melee'd by a robot boxing at him

>>6183678
>>6183684
>88
>matching
The numbers match so that's a critical failure. (And so was John's earlier 55.) You have one reroll for Frank.
Captcha: 2RNG

Rolled 42 (1d100)

>>6183700
rerolling for zHT since he's not doign it.

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You hear the sound of shouting and gunshots behind you, but you focus on securing the enormous pussy lest it becomes loose forever. (And that would really make the client upset!)

The cat needs to stop moving, so you open your mouth and make a weird grunting noise from the back of your throat, causing you to panic for a second as you feel the blood running down the back of your neck and think about just how badly that pneumatic sucker punch smashed in your mental machinery, but you shake it off and say the first words which come to mind,

>"TOM! TOM, COME BACK HERE!" IT'S A TOM. IT KNOWS THIS. IT MUST OBEY.

And oh what the hell.

"Mwwwwwwwp?"

>24
>EXTREMELY CLOSE SUCCESS!!! (DC: 25)

It works.

The peeper turns to look back at you instead of running further into the endless night. You almost trip over yourself as you slam down the bucket right on top of it. There's a muffled hiss and a thumping noise but even though the feline is fluid, there's no way it could leak through the gap between the bucket and the ground.

TARGET SECURE.


>42
>SUCCESS

You breathe a sigh of relief and go back to meet with Frank. The Agent has his rifle pointed right at the fallen robot's head; his suit looks a bit ruffled, but he doesn't look any worse for wear. As for the assailant, his arms and legs are locked in, clutched to his body so much like a giant metal bug or perhaps a case of decorticate posturing.

"WHO SENT YOU?"
"NO ONE. THIS WAS AN INDEPENDENT MISSION."

The braincase tilts and the glare which the brain slurry gives is far more intense without any trace of a human expression.

"BULLSHIT, WHO SENT YOU AFTER ME?"
"I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHO YOU ARE. JUST PLEASE DON'T SHOOT ME."

"Frank," you say, making yourself known. "I got the cat."
"JOHN." He tilts his head and takes a look at the back of your head. "Woah, holy shit dude."
"Is that bad?" You raise your hand instinctively but refrain from touching the wound again.
"I don't want to alarm you, but I can see the white of your skull through the meat."
"Jesus."

You cough. You can worry about the damage later. "Frank, M Company is coming to pick up the cat at my office. We've got 30 minutes before she shows up."

"SO ARE WE JUST GOING TO LEAVE THIS GUY HERE? AND THE OTHER GUY TOO."

"Well..."
>Interrogate the robot about the independent mission.
>"Interrogate" the robot about his augments and other stupid life decisions.
>Shoot this guy in the head for punching you in the back of your head. Justice, City style.
>Call the police and let them take care of this mess.
>"Yeah, sure. We're leaving." (End Scene)

>>6187739
>"Interrogate" the robot about his augments and other stupid life decisions.
Cool augments. I wanna 'em.

>>6187762
+1

>>6187739
>Shoot this guy in the head for punching you in the back of your head. Justice, City style.
Get fucked

>>6188705
Can we do this after we interrogate him or if he refuses to talk?

>>6188706
Sure

>>6187739
>>Interrogate the robot about the independent mission.
Then
>>6187762

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>>6187739
>"Interrogate" the robot about his augments and other stupid life decisions.

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Thread is archived. I must apologize for wasting everyone's time. I will return to this wonderful City after the robot dating sim is over. Wait for it and watch for it.

>>6208483
Thought you'd escaped into the night, I'll look forwards to the story's continuation.