Vice Bunker 12 (Patreon)

Vice Bunker

Chapter 12

-VB-

“Yal’Manus,” Director Renick greeted me from across the table inside the PRT ENE’s headquarters, which was a normal office building in the middle of Downtown.

“Director,” I greeted back as he gestured for me to sit and I did.

With us in the room were Armsmaster and Miss Militia on his side and Kali and Brandish on my side, though the New Wave heroine was here as my advisor and lawyer and Kali was here as my secretary.

“Before we do or say anything,” Renick began with a smile. “Thank you. From the bottom of my heart and from all of the PRT, thank you for killing Jack Slash and Bonesaw.”

“You are welcome,” I replied after a moment to take in their sincerity. Miss Militia, the stoic and calm heroine known for her discipline, broke protocol to curtsy, and Armsmaster nodded respectfully. “I also heard that Armsmaster took out Crawler. Congratulations.”

Armsmaster stiffened and then straightened his back.

“It was with an unsanctioned tinkertech…” Renick chuckled. “But I think it will be filed retroactively as being approved. Results matter more than bureaucracy, after all.”

‘No, I don’t think you actually believe that,’ I thought to myself. “You called me here to discuss … my operation.”

Renick nodded. “Yes, you own and operate a bunker of your own, though the bunker itself has not been acknowledged nor registered with the US government.”

“Please get to the fundamental question, director. I will not waste time tap dancing around small issues that are not issues,” I replied with a snap.

The clean shaven grandfatherly man stared at me for a moment before nodding. “Very well. It has come to PRT ENE’s attention that you have a bunker that is expanding rapidly with solid structure. I wish to hire you to build a new bunker under this very building. In exchange, I will ensure that your bunker is certified and registered so that future issues cannot crop up regarding its legality, register you as a special affiliate of the PRT, and provide you with reasonable pay for your work.”

I liked what I heard, but at the same time, his words and the words of the PRT ultimately lacked meaning. Why? Because I knew that PRT itself was just a puppet of Cauldron, and Cauldron did as they wished and not as they should.

So I asked for something else.

“Legality… holds no meaning, director,” I replied slowly as if I was speaking to a child. “The world is experiencing an apocalypse. While I understand that you must still abide by the laws and regulations of the United States of America, everyone here understands quite well that there is a good chance USA might simply stop existing tomorrow. The people will continue to live, yes, but the government is literally one asteroid strike away from cessation.”

Renick had an impressive poker face and showed nothing about what he felt about that.

“Perhaps if USA was smart enough, they would have just paid String Theory a few billion dollars instead of suffering few trillion dollars in collateral damage and much more in human lives…” I hummed.

Armsmaster’s power armor creaked.

“But sure, I’ll build that bunker for you,” I added while my leg-tentacles coiled and slipped around each other placidly. “There is, however, a catch. I want none of the things you told me you can provide, because they are meaningless.”

“Then what do you want in return?”

“... Nothing, really. You don’t have anything you can provide me,” I replied with a shrug and then smiled. “But I’m not against helping my neighbor in their time of need.”

Renick looked at me with a questioning stare before warily nodding. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

By being nice, I lost nothing but time that was already going to be wasted. In return, I gained their respect. Not loyalty, no, but respect was still nice.

Besides, I needed more people alive in the future for my future children to play with. Where else was I going to find my boys and girls their play dates?

-VB-

The Slaughterhouse Nine’s death created two effects for Brockton Bay.

First of all, it ruined the city. Between Armsmaster’s antimatter bomb and my constant incendary and explosive barrages, half of the still standing city was gone, which meant that a total of two-thirds of the city was gone. If this wasn’t the case everywhere in the world from the constant meteor showers, then the city would have been condemned. Practically speaking, it just meant that the few people who did remain on the surface finally got out of dodge or died.

Second, and more importantly, people saw capes here in the bay as “powerful guardians” capable of keeping them safe. Add to the fact that some of these capes had bunkers of their own…?

The “bunkerless” on the surface began to migrate to the city.

To me, this was great. It meant that there were more women for me to look and to lure into my embrace.

For the PRT and the other bunkers, this was a disaster. Most of the bunkers in the city had been full already. They could not handle more people, and even the new bunker that I built for the PRT ENE (it only took a week) had people on the waiting list already.

This meant jackshit to the people who wanted to live, and between the dwindling supplies and increasingly aggressive clashes, people began to trigger.

Chaos ensued.

What did I think about this?

‘The fucking Slaughterhouse Nine caused less problems…’