"Aiya, now that you mention it, I think I remember. You're that rising star Fixer, Vanda, aren't you? Achieving so much in such a short time is truly impressive. Not like me, I've been stuck at the same Fixer grade for years."
"Don't be so tense. I'll recommend a place to relax. Occasionally reading those comments is quite entertaining."
Roland used an admiring tone to flatter Putato, his hands operating his communicator before showing the screen to him. He showed no intention of leaving.
The screen displayed Urban Girl in the middle of a livestream.
WHOOSH!
The terrifyingly heavy Crusher instantly ripped through the air. The previously nonchalant Roland was forced to quickly pull back his communicator and retreat warily, his eyes repeatedly scanning the unreleased Giant Workshop item in Putato's hand.
"Someone actually uses that kind of thing in real combat? I tried it out once and gave up. Vanda, you truly live up to your reputation."
Roland, a quintessential resident of The City.
Before marrying Angelica, he possessed the typical City mindset of only caring for his own safety, having participated in the Smoke War that brought down a Wing of the World.
After the Seed of Light triggered the Pianist incident and he lost his pregnant wife, Roland went on a rampage, slaughtering anyone he deemed suspicious. In the Library, to uncover the truth, he could suppress his emotions enough to kill even his acquaintances.
Putato was not at all deceived by Roland's earlier flippant and casual words. This man was honey-tongued but dangerous. If Roland truly decided to target him, only by displaying strength could Putato force him to speak properly.
"Let's settle this outside. Don't disturb my client, because if you ruin my job, our grudge will be substantial."
"Sigh, I really didn't want things to reach this point. Don't make things too complicated, Vanda."
Seeing Roland obediently walk out of the gallery and even turn his back to him, Putato shouldered the Crusher and followed, casually closing the main door behind them.
He also wanted to communicate normally to resolve the misunderstanding, but without a show of force, communication would turn into a one-sided interrogation, and Putato had no interest in being treated like a criminal.
"Say, Vanda. Although I'm not very famous, I should be a bit stronger than you. How about we calmly discuss this Urban Girl matter?"
Putato finally sensed a slight shift in Roland's emotions. This guy was indeed here for him, likely seeking to verify Urban Girl's prophecies.
Hematic Pump!
Putato squeezed his eyes shut, his left hand snatching a massive, equally heavy Spiral Spear into his grip. This dual-wielding stance of ultra-heavy weapons even startled Roland.
"Hey, hey... can standard strength augmentations even reach this level? Do you have counterweights inside you to keep your balance?"
In the darkness of the night, Putato's Night Watchman talent allowed him to clearly perceive everything around him, including a now-serious Roland. The man lowered his body into a combat stance, clearly wary of the weapons in Putato's hands.
At some point, Roland's hands had gripped an exaggerated greatsword, clearly adorned with Wheels Industry markings, nearly matching the size of the Crusher.
"Urban Girl is connected to you, isn't she? I can exchange the information you have for a commission. You can still stop now. Otherwise, a Grade 5 Fixer is just a small matter to me."
CLANG!!
The ear-splitting collision made passersby feel as if a car crash had occurred on the street. Those who opened their windows to look saw two freaks swinging massive objects that could hardly be called weapons, their continuous echoes ringing out all the way to the end of the road.
"You're really just a Grade 5 Fixer?!"
CLICK-CLACK.
Wielding the spear in a thrusting motion, Putato suddenly swung the Crusher in a horizontal sweep. Even though Roland parried in time, the absurd weight of the Crusher forced him back. He then saw white, chitinous material begin to protrude all over Putato's body.
In the blink of an eye, a sleek, teardrop-shaped armor encased Putato, as a ceaseless surge of power erupted from within him.
Putato took a deep breath and dropped the Spiral Spear, his hands suddenly gripping the Crusher's handle with both palms, followed by a full-force overhead smash.
BOOM!!!
The crushing weight caused even the Workshop weapon to vibrate uncontrollably. The piercing hum made anyone listening feel dizzy and nauseous.
Retreating several steps, Roland gritted his teeth to steady his weapon. He panted heavily, looking at the white armor that had suddenly appeared on Putato's arms, his eyes filled with disbelief.
"Anyone with the guts to stream using the name of the Prescripts... hmph, I guess having this much power isn't so strange after all."
"But if you want to keep going, I'll have to get serious. Besides, the Night in the Backstreets is coming."
Facing the sudden surge of Roland's aura, Putato glanced left and right, noticing the windows were all shut tight and almost all the lights had gone out. He felt a surge of relief.
To avoid extreme complications, he had already shattered the nearby cameras with throwing knives. In theory, he could now unleash everything except the Death Tattoo.
HUFF.
A cloud of Mist was instantly exhaled, gathering around Putato's face. The rolling thick smoke filled the street in just three breaths.
"I see! You're the Putato who killed the Ring Maestro. To provoke both the Index and the Ring and still be alive... it seems you weren't actually holding back just now."
"So tell me! What exactly does the 'Backstreets calamity' mean!"
Roland swapped his greatsword for a one-handed grip and stubbornly plunged into the white, numbing Mist. In just two lunges, he was back in front of Putato.
Dionysian Festival!
The sudden eruption of illusory cheers and music made Roland flinch back just as he was about to slash. He listened in confusion to the sounds of a celebration coming from all directions.
He licked his dry lips, tasting a faint, ghost-like scent of wine.
"Is this some new technology too?"
"Forget it! Looks like I'll only get you to cooperate once you're on the ground!"
Roland grew increasingly frustrated. The thought of not being able to grasp the truth made him ruthless. His earlier plan of careful probing was forgotten as he raised his sword and cleaved toward Putato's back.
The lightning-fast strike instantly carved through the white armor, but Roland noticed with shock that the deep gash was already closing. Before he could think, he raised his blade to meet Putato's counter-swing with the Spiral Spear.
CLANG!
Another round of rapid, violent metal-on-metal clashing erupted within the fog.
Roland was well aware of the intelligence regarding the Mist. Even with his rationality frayed, he didn't stay long in the numbing fog, wanting to pull back to catch his breath.
But the first words Putato spoke since the fight began threw his mind into chaos.
"Have you ever seen fireworks?"
Before coming here, Roland had hired an Office to investigate everyone in that building. Intelligence on Putato and Vanda was the most expensive, and the remote recording of Putato killing Wym Maestro clearly showed that his special Mist could explode.
Now, as he came to his senses, Roland noticed the pure white Mist frantically gathering around Putato. His eyes widened as he scrambled to retreat, unable to believe he had ignored such an obvious anomaly.
Putato swung the Spiral Spear with all his might, and the ultra-high concentration of Softened - Mist spiraled outward. The Mist filling the entire street was instantly swept up by the violent atmospheric shift.
BOOM!!!
One minute before the Night in the Backstreets arrived, a terrifying explosion swept across the entire street in front of the Moon in Water exhibition hall.
The white mist gradually dissipated.
"Cough, cough, cough... where the hell did this monster come from?"
Roland painfully spat out a mouthful of foul blood, bracing himself against the shattered ground as he stood up in a wretched state. His suit was already shredded to tatters.
He struggled to wipe the blood from the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand, feeling immensely fortunate that he hadn't grown careless even in retirement. He was wearing a custom outfit made by the Carnival. Had he truly come in casual clothes, he'd be lying on the ground half-dead by now.
"You've got a death wish! You dared to detonate it when we were that close?!"
Just as Roland was about to look up and interrogate Putato, he saw Putato return to the gallery and swiftly slam the door shut.
BANG!
The vibrating communicator in his chest pocket made Roland's face pale. It was now the hour of the Night in the Backstreets. No one was permitted to damage the buildings. He truly couldn't fathom how Putato, who had taken the explosion point-blank just like him, was still able to move so naturally.
Roland quickly scanned his surroundings. At this hour, he wouldn't find anyone willing to open their door. No one in the Backstreets would voluntarily open up during the deep night just to help a stranger.
"Dammit!"
The information-gathering mission he thought was a sure thing had completely backfired.
Behind the gallery doors, Putato sat against the wall, clutching his chest. He playfully pulled out his communicator, easily found Roland's account, and opened a private message.
[Vanda: Roland, how are you feeling?]
THUD, THUD, THUD.
[Roland: Respected Fixer Vanda, I admit my mistake this time. Could you please open the door? I already see the Sweepers. You hit me too hard. If you don't open up and I end up dead, what then?]
The sound of fierce fighting erupted outside.
[Vanda: From the first moment we met, I knew you were the type whose words couldn't be trusted.]
[Brandon:
- Roland [5,000,000 Ahn]: Urban Girl, I love you.
- Angelica [100,000 Ahn]: Roland, aren't you out helping someone handle a commission?]
Roland's apology was quite sincere.
Putato glanced at his white armor, which was still regenerating, and slowly stood up. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the three Urban Girl candies Olivia had given him.
"Hey, Roland, you still there?"
"Yeah, yeah. Look, Vanda, we don't have any deep-seated grudge. I just wanted to ask about that Urban Girl prophecy. How about we call this 'meeting through combat' and leave it at that?"
SWISH!
Roland's hoarse voice was punctuated by the clean sound of a blade slicing through something.
"This is a gift in return from Urban Girl. Catch it well!"
"Hahaha, no need for gifts! Just open the door for me. You know how persistent these Sweepers can be."
WHOOSH!
With a flick of his right hand across the floor, the three candies were tossed through the narrow gap at the bottom of the gallery's main door. Putato stared at the frosted glass of the entrance, where he could vaguely see the faint shifting of shadows and light.
"Brother Vanda, don't mess with me at a time like this. Night in the Backstreets is so long. A few pieces of candy won't do squat. Just let me in to ask a few questions, alright? I'll leave as soon as I'm done."
"You're so skilled, and I can't even beat you, so why be so cautious? We're colleagues, friends, even."
There was another heavy thud of something being smashed to pieces.
[Brandon:
- Roland [50,000,000 Ahn]: I'm seriously out of money now.
- Angelica [100,000 Ahn]: Roland, why aren't you answering your phone?
- Patches [100,000 Ahn]: Where did this old couple come from? They're acting so nauseating on Urban Girl's stream.]
Hm?
Roland's sincerity was certainly substantial. After all, 50 million Ahn wasn't pocket change even for a Grade 1 Fixer. It was more than enough to cancel out their earlier friction.
"You make a lot of sense. Once this wave of Sweepers passes, you can come in."
Putato moved his body to check his injuries, finding that he had already recovered more than half. With the advantage of being rested, he wouldn't need to fear Roland even if the man tried to stir up trouble once inside.
"Great! Aiya, I'm actually quite curious. Hasn't the Index come knocking on your door yet? This stream is using the name of the Prescripts. Or is this truly the will of a Prescript?"
The voice outside immediately turned joyful. Putato could clearly hear how much Roland cared about this. The man was likely uncertain about the so-called 'Backstreets calamity.'
After all, when someone suddenly starts playing the prophet of doom with your life on the line, the only thing Putato could offer them was a reality check.
CLICK-CLACK.
Covered in blood, Roland propped himself up with a one-handed sword. Seeing Putato open the door, he managed to force a weak smile.
"Thanks. At least you're the kind of guy who actually does the job once he's paid. I can rest easy now. Cough, cough, cough."
Putato watched Roland sit down against the same wall he had just occupied and quickly closed the door. Only then did he exhale in relief, maintaining a safe distance from Roland.
"I told you I had no ill intent. No need to be so guarded."
"You stink."
"Uh..."
Roland's words were choked back into his throat. This was the first time he had tasted bitter defeat in both words and combat against the same person. He began to eye Putato with intense curiosity.
"I should call you Fixer Vanda, right?"
"Yeah. That 'Backstreets calamity' is related to the Distortion. If you don't know what a Distortion is, hire an Office to investigate it yourself. In short, it's the will of the Prescript."
"Actually, I've been curious for a long time about what the Index's Prescripts really are. Is it a person? Or maybe an AI computer?"
"I'm not Urban Girl, how would I know?"
"Is that so? I thought you were her. Tell me, can you be a bit more specific? Like, is it targeting me or Angelica? That's the part I absolutely have to know. After all, you can hide for a while, but you can't hide forever."
"As long as you move out of the Backstreets, there shouldn't be a problem. You can think of it as something like a natural disaster."
[Brandon: Boss, a lot of people are asking for Urban Girl's birthday. Is there a setting for this? Manager Shamisen said to use your birthday.]
My memories of my past life are a total blank, how would I know my birthday?
[Putato: Just pick one at random. Let Shamisen decide.]
Taking a deep breath, a weary Putato sat back down by the windowsill. Once this "easy" commission was over, he could rightfully be promoted.
Once he became a Grade 4 Fixer, not only would his reputation skyrocket, but he would also qualify to participate in commissions involving the Wings of the World. It would be a qualitative leap.
Beep-beep-beep!
This was Roland's communicator, which he had just switched out of Fixer mode. After all, one couldn't have their communicator vibrate or ring during a commission. The Communicator Corporation was quite strict about that.
"Yes, yes, yes. Of course, nothing's wrong."
"How could I possibly do that? I'm busy here, we'll talk when I get back."
Putato frowned as Roland hung up. The man patted the dirt and stains off his shredded clothes and went to the restroom to clean up a bit.
"Sounds like this calamity is easy enough to deal with. Sorry for causing you so much trouble. I'll make it up to you by supporting Urban Girl's stream."
"Say, Vanda, have you met Urban Girl? She isn't just a string of data, is she? Like some kind of AI customer service?"
Putato clearly sensed that Roland hadn't given up on digging into Urban Girl yet, but after their scuffle, the man likely wouldn't dare act rashly.
"Got a coin?"
"I have this."
Catching the J Nest gambling chip Roland threw his way, Putato tossed it casually into the air, while inwardly issuing a Prescript.
[Flip the chip to tails.]
"Catch it. If it's heads, I'll take you to meet Urban Girl."
"Ha, deal!"
Roland immediately focused intently on the spinning chip. He was supremely confident in catching it on heads. A Grade 1 Fixer was capable of far more than just hacking and slashing.
As the chip fell in front of him, Roland reached out, ready to snatch it from the air. Beneath his mask, a smile of "it's all in the palm of my hand" played on his lips.