Putato suppressed the excitement and joy surging within him. Right now, his target was with those N Corp "purity" fanatics and backed by K Corp bodyguards; he couldn't afford to alert them by making a move now.
Obana clearly held a high position. The moment he moved against her, he had to consider the risk of being besieged by K Corp's armed forces, and a Wing could even hire major Associations to mobilize.
He quickly looked for a nearby café to monitor the situation, but the moment he stepped inside, he saw it was filled with young people clutching exam papers and reference books. For a moment, Putato thought he'd walked into the wrong place.
"Sir, would you be open to sharing a table? There's a seat available by the window."
Putato followed the waiter to the window seat, looking curiously at the huddled figures. Then, he spotted the title of the book in the hands of the man sitting opposite him.
"The Compendium of Interviews for the Wings of the World"
Well, looks like a bunch of guys who failed the last round of exams and are grinding for next year.
"We clear the tables every hour after ordering. Thank you for understanding. If you wish to stay longer, a minimum purchase is required."
The waiter handed him the plastic menu card with both hands.
He ordered the cheapest coffee available. Only then did Putato notice the man across from him had a stack of twelve empty coffee cups. The man, eyes bloodshot and vacant, looked up and ordered another cup, just like Putato.
He stared blankly at the steaming coffee as if he were about to melt into it, and then, tears began to flow uncontrollably into his cup.
Putato watched in disbelief as the guy tilted his head back and downed the entire cup of coffee in one gulp. He couldn't imagine how Lesti had managed to win out in such a brutal competitive war. Was she some kind of genius?
THUD.
A faint tremor from the ground made Putato immediately turn his head toward the street. Obana and that Nagel und Hammer representative had emerged once again. Had they already finished their business in Calw Town?
Putato desperately wanted to get closer and eavesdrop, but the Zwei Association Fixers weren't there for show. All he could do now was catch glimpses of what appeared to be a heated argument between the two parties.
Obana's petite frame looked like a doll's in front of the Nagel und Hammer representative, yet her smiling face as she spoke was unnervingly charming. It wasn't until the representative left that she let out a furious kick at a utility pole.
As he watched her get back into the car and drive away, Putato's spirit stirred. If he could infiltrate her home and carry out his plan there, things would be much simpler.
Surely, no one would turn their private residence into a heavy-firepower fortress.
"Fried chicken?"
Putato watched with a bizarre expression as Obana's car pulled up to a fried chicken shop festooned with Christmas decorations. A fawning floor manager rushed out to meet her. Putato quietly slipped into the adjacent alleyway to eavesdrop, using his Mist to amplify his hearing.
"There's absolutely no problem! Christmas Eve fried chicken sales have quintupled. We're using the corporate-supplied ingredients, and profits are at a breakthrough high—all thanks to your leadership, Lady Obana."
Wait... you're in charge of fried chicken?!
Listening to Obana discreetly coordinate with the manager on a scheme to skim corporate ingredients for a "free-range chicken" plan, Putato began to doubt if he had the right person.
"I hope you seize this opportunity well. There are plenty of people who can fill your position, but not everyone can grasp the opportunity for advancement. This is no different."
Using a coin-flip to determine his direction, Putato shadowed Obana for over half a day. This woman was even more of a marathon runner than he was.
...
Union Co. Branch.
Putato feigned interest as a customer, inspecting the bio-organic weaponry mounted on a mannequin's torso while keeping an eye on Obana as she emerged from the crowd. The manager beside him excitedly barked orders to a nearby assistant.
"Hurry, send a team to Calw Town! Nagel und Hammer just raided the place—this is the perfect chance to buy them out!"
The City's guidance never steered him wrong. Putato quickly re-evaluated his thinking and realized where his logic had slipped.
Obana was a supreme scoundrel!
From what he knew, she had first betrayed K Corp to join Green Journey, then turned around and betrayed Green Journey. She was a pure, unadulterated opportunist.
No wonder she wasn't well-liked in K Corp. But how did she manage to mobilize someone as absurdly augmented as Shamisen?
Everything started to fall into place. Putato felt a surge of confidence for his upcoming move; he needed to ask her if his amnesia was related to Green Journey.
...
In front of Stylish Office.
"Boys, a big commission just came in. Close up early."
Putato watched Obana's back with a hint of annoyance. He really wanted to see just how many more shady deals this woman was personally involved in. Her web of connections was far too wide.
Wait, she wouldn't be hiring a Fixer Office to deal with me, would she?
"How's that midget back again? She scammed us blind last time!"
"Don't sweat it. This is just about opening a trade route. The goods were ordered by The Ring in the Backstreets."
Listening to the muffled conversation behind the door, Putato immediately connected the dots to the mangled Nagel und Hammer corpses.
After all, only The Ring would collect that kind of "art." Is she really turning around and selling N Corp's people out?
Even after surviving in The City for so long, Putato had never encountered a "being" like Obana. How was a traitor this outrageous not dead yet!
...
Night fell.
Putato leaned against a wall, panting. Looking up, he finally saw something other than a shop or an Office. Before him was a luxury residential district filled with villas and private courtyards, with Zwei Association Fixers patrolling the perimeter.
"Finally caught you!"
But looking at the security cameras everywhere, Putato hit a wall. This wasn't the Backstreets where you could just kill and run; breaking in here meant leaving a trail.
Watching the patrolling Fixers sweep the street with powerful flashlights, Putato felt a bit stumped. He didn't have any hacking skills to black out the cameras.
"Wait... if I just blow the power lines, job's done!"
It was a bit of a dick move, but it was simple, reliable, and guaranteed to cause enough chaos to disable the security systems.
Two Zwei Fixers yawned, exhausted by the monotony of their rounds. Their sector hadn't seen a single incident in over three months.
Suddenly, one of them stopped.
"Is that smoke? Don't tell me someone's burning hell-money again to protest the rich. It took me forever to sweep up the ash last time."
"Huh? It looks like it's coming from underground."
BOOM!
The ground buckled from the explosion. The entire residential district plunged into darkness instantly. The sudden shift startled the two Fixers; they frantically gripped their flashlights in their teeth and drew their weapons.
Unnoticed on the lawn to their right, Putato crawled slowly through the shadows, constantly issuing Prescripts to himself to remain undetected.
Soon, residents began pouring out of their homes to investigate the blast and the blackout. Only Obana's gate remained tightly shut, and curiously, the lights inside her house were still flickering.
"Are you kidding me?! I went through all that to sneak in!"
Fortunately, the lights suddenly died out for some reason. Putato seized the moment. He tightened his grip on his Violent Knuckles and threw a punch. The window shattered with a sharp crack, but the sound was swallowed by the clamor of the confused neighbors.
SWISH!
Putato vaulted through the frame and successfully entered Obana's residence.
After rushing into the bathroom, Putato stared speechlessly at the mirror above the sink.
The process of fumbling through the dark had led to an accidental and embarrassing realization. There were so many rooms here that he had no idea where he was. Unlike the standard, orderly layout of residential buildings, this three-and-a-half-story space was entirely interconnected and highly stylized, so much so that after his frantic searching, he had somehow ended up back in the living room.
But the strangest part was the lack of any sign of Obana. Putato immediately considered that the villa might have a basement or a secret chamber; that damn midget was far too calculating!
Putato patiently pressed his ear against the kitchen floor, listening intently until he finally found a trace. He slowly crawled toward a bedroom door. As he gently turned the knob, a scent of citrus wafted toward him.
The movement underground was right here!
Gripping Honesuki beneath his clothes, Putato moved with extreme caution to avoid making a sound. A quick glance revealed slightly messy blankets; this was likely where Obana rested daily.
Putato slowly reached out to open the wardrobe. Just as he was about to peer inside, a crisp click echoed behind him, followed by a scalp-numbing whistle of clashing air.
THUD!
Ducking into a forward roll, Putato scrambled to his feet only to find a sharp katana piercing through the wardrobe. Without a hint of resistance, the blade was pulled out by a Prosthetic user with a tri-faced head. The figure spoke in a calm, electronically synthesized voice.
"Who goes there?"
Putato warily maintained his distance. He glanced toward the air purifier and saw a hidden door standing open; the light spilling from within momentarily blinded him after his eyes had adjusted to the darkness.
SLASH!
The katana suddenly swept toward his legs. Putato wondered why the opponent was pulling their punches even as he leaped into the air, white mist instantly flooding half the room.
Seizing the opening created by the opponent's full-force swing, Putato steeled his resolve. Mid-air, he aimed a double-kick straight at the tri-faced head. The spiraling mist erupted with massive force.
STOMP, STOMP, STOMP.
The tri-faced figure retreated three steps, looking down at their own body with a sense of immense displeasure and disdain.
"Weak."
CLANG!
Putato gave his enemy no chance to breathe, but his sneak attack was easily parried by the katana. He immediately locked into a fierce melee. Honesuki and the katana clashed, sending sparks flying like fireflies swirling around the two.
Troublesome!
Extremely troublesome!
The tri-faced head's absurdly refined combat techniques felt disturbingly familiar to Putato. There was only one person he knew who combined such wild aggression with cold composure. His mind wavered as he blurted out a name.
"Shamisen?!"
Shamisen tilted her tri-faced head slightly and spoke. Even through the synthesized electronic voice, her disbelief was palpable.
"You're not dead?! How is that possible? My Prosthetics were custom-built by Green Journey as solo-combat armaments. How are you completely unharmed?!"
Suddenly, Shamisen stared at Putato's sweat-beaded forehead and realized something. She immediately began to curse.
"Obana, you idiot! If you're going to skim Regeneration Ampules, pick a different spot! Now look at the mess you've dragged home!"
Putato noted with confusion that Shamisen seemed completely oblivious to the details of their previous battle, otherwise, she wouldn't be asking such questions.
He thought rapidly. A shocking realization hit him: this woman was a super-Prosthetic user, likely so advanced she even had a personality chip backup.
Is she even human at this point?!
But right now, it seemed she was using a base model Ghost Walker frame. Putato realized that these two, doing their shady dealings behind K Corp's back, were likely strapped for cash; the price of high-end Prosthetics and their maintenance was astronomical.
"Heh. It looks like the power balance between us is about to flip."
"What?!"
Facing a Shamisen who gripped her katana with both hands, Putato let out a jagged laugh and activated his Hematic Pump. A thick, cloying mist surged forth as he struck out with a heavy blow.
BOOM!
No matter how Shamisen tried to parry or deflect the force, the sheer, raw power of the strikes forced her into a desperate retreat, pieces of her frame flying off with every hit.
Putato excitedly pulled the Violent Knuckles from his pocket and delivered a full-force blow directly to Shamisen's tri-faced head.
BOOM!
"You... are all... id-id-id-id-idiots"
Shamisen leaned against the wall, her body twitching uncontrollably. Putato quickly reached out and felt the back of her head; the familiar Ghost Walker configuration made it easy for him to yank out her personality chip in a few quick moves.
This thing was too useful to toss. Putato slid it into a specially shielded pocket of his Stasis Preservation Packaging and stepped through the hidden door.
"Stop right there!"
The moment Putato crossed the threshold, he saw the midget at the end of the metallic corridor leading to the basement. Her distinct, wavy green hair made Putato instinctively reach into his clothes for his throwing knives. Whatever she had to say could wait until he'd broken her legs!
"Move another inch and we all die together!"
The shrill female voice grated against Putato's eardrums. He watched with suspicion as Obana, her face a mask of frantic terror, pressed her hand against an identity verification screen at the end of the hall.
Think you can bluff me?!
I don't believe for a second that anyone would rig their own home with explosives!
Putato had pulled the same "Empty Fort" trick on Gyeong-mi before. He let out a cold laugh, the Workshop Mindcord sliding three throwing knives into his palm as mist surged around his right arm.
"Putato! Calm down!"
"I have all the assets I salvaged from Green Journey stored here! They cannot be discovered, that's why I've already rigged the bombs! We can sit down and talk!"
Obana tried to force a gentle smile. Paired with her petite stature, she was the kind of person who naturally elicited a sense of trust and sympathy.
"You're just stalling for reinforcements, aren't you?"
"Impossible! I can never let anyone find the data stored here! Please, believe me!"
WHIZ!
Putato, having fully charged his strike, didn't believe her for a second. This was Obana's territory; he had no way of knowing if she'd already alerted K Corp. Residents of The City weren't the type to just sit around and wait for death.
He had spent the entire conversation focusing his concentration, locking his aim onto Obana's hip. He was determined to disable her in a single strike.
The moment Putato's hand flicked, Obana's friendly smile vanished. She gritted her teeth and shrieked a command.
"Green Journey!"
Instantly, a deafening, earth-shattering explosion erupted from the basement behind her. The violent shockwave sent her hurtling upward through the air.
SQUELCH!
The throwing knife pierced Obana's right thigh. She screamed in agony, even as the blast behind her continued to surge outward.
Dammit!
Putato exerted every ounce of his will to convert his mist into Hardened-Mist. Gripping the Stasis Preservation Packaging from his backpack, he didn't retreat. Instead, he lunged into the teeth of the explosion, slamming the open container down over Obana's head.
"Putato, you absolute psycho!"
A blinding white light swallowed them both. Inside the container, Obana's muffled voice continued to curse him in a mix of grief and fury. This guy was a completely unpredictable lunatic; he had attacked without a single hint of hesitation.
Debris, wood, and metal rained down as Obana's villa was reduced to a smoking ruin in an instant. The two of them tumbled across the lawn, rolling over a dozen times before finally coming to a stop.
Putato let out a pained groan. The explosion had completely stripped away the mist shielding both him and Obana. The power of the blast was staggering; he couldn't fathom how this woman had slept peacefully in a house rigged like that.
Her legs and left arm were a bloody mess of shredded flesh. Obana's features were contorted in agony, but she suddenly realized someone was tugging at her head.
"You, aaagh! What are you doing?!"
"Isn't it obvious? I'm only taking the head. You're too big to smuggle through the Nest's security checkpoints in one piece."
"Stop! My neck, stop!"
Seeing a soot-blackened Putato catch his breath for a few seconds before squatting casually by her head like nothing had happened, Obana's panic reached its peak.
This cursed monster!
However, she quickly realized this lunatic wouldn't listen to a word she said. Pleading or threatening was a waste of time. She immediately pivoted her strategy.
"Regeneration Ampules! Go to the smart-storage locker ahead and take them! If you use them when you take my head, I can restore my body later!"
"You must need me for something! I'll cooperate with whatever you want!"
"If you try to fix my body at a clinic, you'll be traced in an instant!"
"The location."
Obana frantically rattled off the address and the passcode.
"It's an anonymous locker, no trail! Putato, you have to get them, please!"
SNAP!
Her frantic pleading was cut short.
Putato immediately fled the scene. Issuing a Prescript for a stealthy escape, he sprinted through the shadows of the alleyways. Looking up, he saw K Corp drones and armored vehicles rushing toward the site of the villa.
Close call. He'd nearly been caught in her trap, but he'd played this game before!
Muttering a prayer to The City under his breath, Putato hurried to retrieve the Regeneration Ampules Obana had mentioned. He then pulled out his communicator and contacted Kokochi.
"Putato, when the hell are you delivering the goods?"
"Arrange my exit from the Nest. No security checks. Ideally, I shouldn't even have to show my face."
"Finally!"