A Hard Knock Life: Another Brick in the Wall (ch. 9) (Patreon)

Tinkering with objects was different than tinkering with code, I found. With code, I was in the driver's seat the entire time. I was aware of what I was doing, what I was creating. And I could look back at the code and make sense of it. With objects, it was different. My hands- well, hand, seemed to have a mind of its own as it worked on the prosthetic that was laid on the desk that once housed a built-in computer and a mountain of takeout boxes.

It was half taken apart -- the guts of the prosthetic revealed. Wires, the mantis blade, screws, bolts, and nuts… Oni Lee had some nice tech. The arm wasn't top of the line, but it wasn't something that you would see on any random gangbanger.

All the while, the arm was hooked up to my desktop -- the systems of the arm were mostly red lighted because it was gutted, but that didn't matter. I was more interested in the base code of how the arm functioned. The port that connected the prosthetic to my nervous system and, by extension, to my brain was a huge web of code. Similar to the Kiroshi eye in my socket.

It was tempting to scrap it, but that would leave me writing code with one hand for possibly days. Still, it irked me seeing the inefficiencies. The junk in the code where some underpaid lab tech wroteit up, saw that it worked, and didn't bother to refine it before shipping it out. For the most part, it wouldn't matter, but things that could improve reaction time? Syncing my arm systems with my eye? There, those systems mattered.

But, as much as it annoyed me, it wasn't the focus. The arm itself was. The wires that connected to the microboards, which housed the settings of the arm -- such as temps for the mantis blade. The arm was gutted for a half dozen reasons, but the most glaring one was hijacking the power source for the extreme heat that the mantis blade reached and turning it into a plasma cutter.

The scraps from my old arm were being cut up and transferred into my new arm. Trying to give it a little extra oomph for when the time came. The cape said that they would look out for me, which is why I came back to my apartment in the first place, but I couldn't rely on them to protect me forever. Which is why I started messing with my arm -- trying to give myself more options when the time came.

Next was insulation. The guts of the transforming arm were coated in a non-conductive polyester I had whipped up with a bit of water, glue, and various chemicals that I had separated in my bathroom sink. A thin glossy layer that you couldn't even tell was there when it was all said and done. The final step was a converter -- in place of a battery, the heat generated could serve as the source.

Bakuda's bombs had given me some ideas. I couldn't seem to come up with any blueprints that would let me craft a black hole grenade from scratch, but electricity was manageable. The idea was simple -- the heat generated inside the arm would be converted to an electric charge. And because I had done a little tinkering with the power source… well…

I had settings that ranged from an electric charge that would hit the enemy with fifty thousand volts to… six hundred million. So, a taser or twice the typical lightning bolt. A nice range, if I did say so myself. I wanted to give myself some options -- so, if I didn’t mind getting pegged as a tinker, I could just shoot lighting at people. More subtle options were the taser knuckles I installed and a stun blade on my mantis blade. I would have to avoid the edge, but I could whack people with it to give them a good jolt.

Tinkering around with the arm also helped show me my limitations. I'm pretty sure that my specialty was optimization -- and, at its core, that meant making something run as perfectly as it possibly could. As far as specializations went, it was a fairly broad one. And because of that, it was about as deep as a puddle.

To put it simply? I could make an engine run so efficiently it could get a thousand miles on a drop of gas, but I couldn't make the engine from scratch. Bakuda's bombs? If I dug in the guts of them, I could make them a hundred times more powerful. Enough to wipe out the city, probably. Yet, I couldn't build one of her bombs. There was a block there that made me come up empty.

I had to stand on the shoulders of giants and improve their work. I couldn't create it on my own. That bothered me more than it should.

My phone rang and I saw that it was Jackie. I wasn't surprised. For starters, he was the only one that would call me now that Lock was dead. Secondly, I had a good idea of why he was calling. Which confirmed my general impression of Jackie -- the guy was a solid choom. I answered and Jackie spoke up, "How'd it go?"

There was no mistaking what he meant. "Kinda… terrible, actually," I admitted to him, a sigh in my voice as I continued to work. "His mom didn't believe me at first. Thought it was some prank or something. She was pissed, but when she saw the money… I guess it clicked that it wasn't a joke." I answered and Jackie listened quietly. "Started hurling shit at me, screaming at me… fuck. It hit her hard, Jackie. I don't think they were close -- Lock always said she worked all the time, but…"

"He was her son. She worked hard for him. It's not your fault, mano. I think when she lets herself feel it and calms down, she'll be able to talk to you," Jackie reassured.

I sighed, "I left her my deets, so if she wants to reach out, she knows how to."

"That's all you could have done," Jackie added, and it was reassuring. I had expected… grief. Crying and sobbing. Not wrath. It felt like I had screwed up somehow, but… people grieve differently I guess. "Have you made your peace with it? With Lock?"

To that, I shrugged my shoulders. "I don't know. Probably? At first, with Bakuda, I had a goal. Something to focus on and unleash just… everything upon. Then I saw she was just a sad sack of shit, I guess Lung became that outlet. He's gone now, so… I dunno. It fuckin' sucks that he's gone, but I can't do anything about that." I did everything that I could have done. Did some crazy shit and somehow managed to live through it. Bakuda was out in the wild now. My backdoor was still there, so I could find her if I needed to. If I thought she needed killing.

In the end, I guess I grieved for Lock in my own way. Went through the emotions… and learned what I could. Because I would never, ever, let that kind of shit fly again. Never. Not when I could stop it.

Jackie made a noise of understanding, "Sounds like you need a drink. You should stop by the Coyote in Heywood. Take a few shots to honor his memory." Jackie offered -- I knew the bar. Jackie had mentioned that his mom was Mama Wellis, the owner of the bar. Apparently, it was a well-known merc and Valentino bar.

I let out a small huff, "Can't. Underage and I have school in the morning."

The huff was returned, "I'm just going to ignore that first bit -- but school? The first thing I did when I joined up with the Valentinos was blow off school. You're seriously still going?"

I paused for a moment, considering it before I started putting the arm back together. "Yeah. Made some promises a while back about taking it seriously." That was an understatement. "Have straight A's, you know? Don't want to mess with that."

"No worries. My old man… eh, he was a real piece of work, but he had a saying that he probably ripped off someone that was a lot smarter and less drunk -- A man's worth is determined by the promises he keeps," Jackie quoted. "Don't have to be ashamed of following through with a promise like that, mano."

A man's worth is determined by the promises he keeps? Yeah… I liked that.

"I would have just said that it was your saying," I remarked, letting my tone thank him for me. To that, Jackie laughed. Then he sobered up.

"You go to Winslow, right? Are you sure it's a good idea heading there?" He questioned while I started putting in the final screws and secured everything. On my desktop, everything was all green.

"Can't hide from them forever," I answered. By now, the ABB netrunners would have cracked the encryption. They would know who I was. They were distracted right now so they didn't have the muscle to track me down, but if they saw me? "Well… I probably could, but I won't."

"You do not like backing down from anything," Jackie remarked. And there was some truth in that. I spent most of my life being a complete write-off. A nonentity. There were a lot of things I was learning about myself now that I was getting involved in actual conflict.

I always considered myself laid back. And, until now, I always had been. Brushing off some disrespect or stepping out of the way for gangsters? I could do that easily. When my life was on the line? All of a sudden it was just too much. You'd think it'd be the opposite, but… I don't know. Something in me changed, I guess.

As if to confirm that thought, I was done with my arm.

"No, I don't," I agreed. The silver panels on the black forearm shot up, angling themselves in contrast to the black panels that did the same. Four of each, each angled to intersect with the other because when they were flat, they would cover the core guts of the arm. The silver was longer, about the length of my forearm, while the black was only half as long. My hand spread out -- my fingers becoming longer, almost doubling in length.

With a thought, I set the hand to its weakest charge and I saw a small crackle of electricity in response. The sound of it must have traveled over the phone, because the next thing I knew, Jackie was asking, “What was that?”

“Just messin’ around with my arm a bit,” I answered. Then I paused. Jackie snorted before I could rectify that statement.

“I’ll leave you to it, mano. Maybe next time wait until you aren’t one the phone, yeah?” Jackie teased with a laugh.

“Ha-fuckin-ha,” I responded. “I’ll catch you later, Jackie. If tomorrow goes how I think it will… well, we can get that drink then.”

You know. Provided that I don’t die.

But that would give our new cape friend a chance to show their stuff. If they could follow through with that promise to protect me if I couldn’t protect myself. I just had to keep an eye on every bug I could. Though… that being said, it wasn’t like I wasn’t taking my own precautions.

Now that I had both hands back, my arm reverted to its previous shape before I cracked my knuckles. Siren Call had been a rush job and it could use a tune-up. And I was getting ideas. Like making that new language for coding. That would remove some of my limitations -- all I needed to do was maintain a way for it to speak to systems…

It was going to be a long night.

…

Winslow was an absolute disaster of a school. Way overcrowded, practically a breeding ground for gangs… most of the teachers couldn’t be bothered to do a damn thing about anything. More than once, I had watched them walk right by a fight. At every entrance, there was a metal detector that would flag you if you had anything resembling a knife.

The fact that Winslow was an absolute disaster of a school was never made more clear when I walked right through the entrance and they didn’t pick up on the very deadly thermal mantis blade in my forearm. I had been in the school systems for… a long time. Pretty much the first thing I did when I learned how to code. The only difficulty getting in was how old they were, to the point that some of the techniques I had learned were completely useless. I had been ready to kill the alert and alarm, only to not have to.

It was a scary thought, honestly. Because if it didn’t work for me, then who else did it not work on?

With that thought in mind, I walked through the halls with an eye peeled. My optic was targeting out ABB colors to alert me to their presence. Hopefully, before they became aware of me. It scanned the flowing crowd of kids that clogged up the halls, spotting the color combination and flagging whoever matched the description.

It was weird being in school again. As if what happened over the weekend had all been one great big dream. In a way, I almost wished that it was. At least Lock would be alive. A bit of fame and chrome arm wasn’t worth his life, a good friend or not. Even still, I pushed on to class and took my usual seat at the front. Mrs. Knott offered a thin smile from behind her desk -- she liked me. Both because I was usually early and because of my good grades.

It was my final year of school and I had already taken everything I needed to graduate -- I was technically a Junior, but thanks to extra classes I had the credits of a senior so I didn’t need to bother with a fourth year at school. Now I was just taking a half year of electives I had saved up. Given my interest in coding, her class was a natural pick.

However, that smile quickly fell when she noticed the chrome. “V? What happened to your arm?” She questioned, sounding like she wasn’t sure if it had been something that I wanted or something that had been done to me.

I offered a wane smile, “Had a bit of an accident and ended up getting chromed up.” I answered simply, not wanting to make a big deal out of it. Mr. Knotts looked like she wanted to press the issue, but her attention was stolen when other students began filing in. The class was a blend of whoever wanted to take it -- it was beginner level coding, so anyone could take it. From my position, I could see who was entering the classroom.

To my surprise, I saw Taylor walk into the room. I honestly had no clue we shared a class. She kind of blended into the background, for the most part. Our eyes met, before she quickly looked away and headed towards the back of the class -- which was probably why I never noticed her before.

Class started not long after. Mr. Knott forwarded the notes that I already had, along with the assignment that I had already done. The basic idea was a project to write a code that could perform a function each week, with each week introducing more complex systems. I… had entered a bit of a funk last night, so I think I might have completed the year’s worth of work on accident.

Not that I was complaining. It gave me more time to work on my own project -- Codename Babel. A rapidly adaptive coding language that could interface with any system. In theory, it would let me write whatever I wanted to write, and it would translate those commands for a dumb system in ways that it would understand. It sounded more complex than it really was -- there were… thousands of coding languages, all similar, but each unique in how the commands interacted with one another.

The idea was to have it meld with Ping and Breach -- my end goal was a system that would breach anything that it pinged off of. With it, my netrunner skills would be far more useful. I would be able to seize control of most systems, including the systems that ran inside people. That, in turn, would lay the foundation for my own ICE and ICE-Breakers-

“Uhhh… V?” A voice questioned as I typed away at my computer. For a moment, I worried that I had been lost in my own world and everyone in the room was going to start pointing at me and shouting cape. Instead, when I looked over, I saw a weedy kid with sandy blonde hair and blue eyes looking at me. He looked around as if to make sure that no one was listening before leaning in. “Is it true you breached the school systems?”

I blinked, casting a glance at Mrs. Knott to see that she wasn’t paying attention at all to us. With a class of a hundred, she had to divide her attention fairly thin. “Yeah…?” I trailed off, wondering who this guy was and why he was talking to me. “How’d you hear about that?”

“My friend said that you were the guy to talk to about getting a grade changed?” He continued, half answering the question. That much was true. Before that job, I had ways of making ends meet. One of those ways was to change grades for cash. Petty cash.

I still had some leftover from the job. About five thousand eddies left. That was a lot to spend, but not a lot to have.

"Class, assignment, grade?" I rattled off the three questions before inclining my head to him. "And name?"

"Greg Veder," Greg answered. "This class, the midterm and, uh, an A?" He requested -- which wasn't great. Mrs. Knott was one of the few teachers that would notice if the grade had been changed… but she wasn't likely to change it back. Funding was determined by SAT and overall GPA -- Principal Blackwell, if she could, would give everyone a flat A. I almost wished she could. Maybe then this place wouldn't be such a dumpster fire.

That was part of the reason that a market existed for changing grades. I wasn't the only one doing it. There were enough people in the system, changing grades and more, that the price for such a thing had leveled out. In general? Fifteen eddies per grade level.

With a few strokes, I was in the system using an already existing backdoor. As such, "Fifty eddies," I gave him my price. Greg looked at me as if I had accessed some superpower. He offered a nod, passing over the money. I failed to take it for a moment because behind Greg was the door. And, for the briefest moment, a few flies wrote out ABB on the see-through glass.

Snatching the money from his hand, I changed the grade and saved what I was doing to my own system. My eyes were glued to the door, my foot bouncing in place as I considered what to do. Twisting around, I looked at the room full of people, each sitting at a row of desks, each one more elevated than the last. Most were goofing off and talking.

The ABB were making their move. The cape wouldn't have told me otherwise. Because in doing so… I was starting to think that they were a student. Two of the times I had interacted with the cape, it had been near the school. The only outlier had been the diner, but that was something they had arranged. It was only a theory, especially considering I didn't know the cape's range, and the cape would know that I was starting to guess their identity, wrong or not.

I had hoped a school full of witnesses would be enough of a deterrent, but apparently not.

If that's how they wanted to play it, then fine. I wouldn't hide. If they wanted to do this? Then I was fucking doing it. I got up and left my desk behind.

"V-" Mrs. Knotts started, only to fall silent at the expression I was wearing. I marched out of the classroom, looking to my left, then to my right where I spotted the ABB walking down the hall. A small group of them. Five in total. I thought there would be more.

I walked towards them -- I wasn't particularly tall, but when I was surrounded by freshmen as they changed classes, I stood out. I made eye contact with the dark brown eyes of the leader -- he had a crew cut with a snarling dragon tattooed in neon ABB colors running up his neck, ending at his ears. With my access to the school network, I easily pulled up his name. Ha-Jun. His expression narrowed into a scowl as he led the way towards me. The others? Going from left to right it was Haruto, Asahi, Ha-Jun, Haru, and Sung-ho.

My prosthetic curled into a fist as I walked to meet him halfway. My heart started pounding with every step, adrenaline surging in my veins. At the moment before we finally met each other in the center of the hallway… I started to wonder if I might have a problem.

That thought was quickly dismissed before I slammed my fist into Ha-Jun's face, catching him in the side of the head. The shock knuckles I applied to my prosthetic worked nicely, and he was too dazed to do a damn thing when I grabbed the side of his head with my organic hand, keeping his head in place so I could punch him again. His neon ink was wrecked as blood dripped down the side of his face, skin tearing under the force of metal against his arrogant face. Shoving him into Haruto and Asahi on the left, I threw myself at Haru and Sung-ho on the right.

I got some more licks in before they realized that I was attacking them rather than the other way around. My organic hand caught Haru in the nose, nearly flattening it in a spray of blood. Sung-ho slammed a fist into the side of my jaw -- but it didn't really hurt. My face just felt warm from the impact. I returned the blow by grabbing him by the hair and punching him again with my left hand, and this time his nose did flatten. Haru tackled me, trying to send me into the ground. It might have worked if the halls weren't filled with freshmen who had no clue what in the hell had just started in their midst.

My back slammed into some unfortunate pimple-faced teenager, stopping my fall. For a brief irrational moment, I thought about whipping out the mantis blade. Instead, I kicked my leg up, trying to knee Haru in the balls while Haruto and Asahi rushed me. I don't know if I succeeded, but I didn't have time to find out. The wall of teens behind me kept me up, preventing me from falling over, letting me slug Haruto in the face. Asahi raised his fist high, revealing a knife in it.

Grabbing a fistful of Haru's shirt, I slung him off of me and into Haruto and Asahi, knocking them off balance. Just long enough for me to grab Asahi by the forearm and squeeze down hard with my prosthetic. Asahi shouted in pain, but bone was fairly tough so instead of breaking it I only managed to give him an ugly bruise. While he was distracted I slugged him in the mouth and at the same time shoved Haru forward into him again, trying to keep them both off balance. Then I let go of Asahi’s arm, but not before yanking him back to me and sending him straight into my fist again.

I don't know what it is like getting punched in the face by a metal fist, but it sure didn't seem nice. Blood gushed down his face, and it looked like I broke some of his teeth. Good.

Haru, still between us, tried to return the favor from earlier and cup check me. Instead he swept one of my legs out from underneath me. I braced for the fall before my back hit the ground. Haru took the chance to frantically reach into his pocket for his knife, while Haruto finally rejoined the fight with his blade drawn and at the ready. Lashing out with my prosthetic, I stopped Haru from stabbing me and tried to twist him around to act as a human shield to stop a stab from Haruto.

Using the grip I had on Haru, I sent a jolt of electricity into him. After that, he was much more amenable to the idea of being a human shield. Putting his friend in the way tripped up Haruto, who ended up diving into Haru's back in his attempt to gut me. The moment of confusion was all that I needed to clock him in the face.

With a heave, I rolled out from underneath both of them before I took advantage of the chance and jumped on top of them both, using my weight and their awkward positions to pin them to the ground. I slammed my fist down on Haru at the bottom of the pile, tenderizing his ribs, back and sides. Haruto recovered while I was doing that, and went to slash at me with his knife, so I turned my attention towards him. My natural arm lashed out, smacking into his wrist with no fear of being cut. His grip must have been weak because that's all it took to knock the knife from his hand. I saw a flash of fear on his face.

He was right to be afraid. With my organic hand I pinned Haruto’s head to the ground and then used my prosthetic to wail on his face. Through the 'oh shitting' of the crowd that had gathered around us, I could hear the sound of pounding meat. After a few hits, his face was bloodied and he went limp. So, I hit him a few times to make sure he stayed down. When I was sure he was out for the count, I punched Haru in the side of the head again for good measure before I scrambled to my feet.

Ha-Jun was getting up by this time, and so was Sung-ho, though unsteadily.

Ha-Jun had a knife out now too, Blood covered half of his face, but he still looked ready to fight. He made a thrust at me, trying to drive me back. It didn't work. The moment he thrust forward, I launched myself at him -- my chrome arm caught his, while I grabbed a fistful of his shirt with my other. Clenching my jaw, I slammed my forehead into his. The action hurt more than I thought it would -- but I was too hopped up on adrenaline to really feel the pain.

So, there was nothing stopping me from headbutting him again. And again. And another time. The headbutts seemed to do more damage to Ha-Jun than they did to me, because he went slack in my hands. So, I used my prosthetic to help keep him up and I head-butted him again for good measure. The moment he dropped to the ground, I kicked away the knife, sending it skipping across the floor into the crowd of kids.

Feeling blood on my chin, I realized I had a split lip. And when had I been punched in the nose? Eh, didn't matter. My attention settled on the last remaining ABB member, Sung-ho, who as afraid as he looked, still lunged at me. Repeating the maneuver I used on Ha-Jun, I grabbed his forearm with my prosthetic, stopping the lunge cold, before I started pushing him backward until his back slammed into a wall.

I grabbed a fistful of his hair and slammed the side of his head into the wall. Keeping him there, I punched at his face. Blood spattered on the wall, ironically on an ABB tag. His nose flattened, his lips busted, and only when his eyes shut and he stopped moving did I stop hitting him.

He dropped to the ground, unconscious. Spitting out a mouthful of blood on the ground, I turned around to make sure that any others hadn't gotten the idea to join in, and saw more ABB coming. Like it or not, there were a fair few at the school. I also noticed that a lot of cameras were being pointed in my direction. And… I smiled.

"The name's V. I'm a merc available for hire for the right price. If you already know who I am, then you know I get the job done come hell or high water. And if you know that, you'll know how to get in touch with me. Look forward to workin' with you," I told the cameras, picking one out in particular, before I turned towards another group of ABB heading my way. I really hoped that they got a good shot of me launching myself over the wall of freshmen that the ABB was pushing through.

My fist slammed into someone's face, snapping his head to the side. A few freshmen were in the splash zone and they fell with me, slowing our fall enough so that I could tenderize the guy's face with a few good hits. My knuckles crackled with electricity, the voltage ramping up as I spotted more ABB. Three nearby with another five headed my way.

And you know what? Fuckin bring it on. I'll stomp them all and head back to class.

With a snarl of a smile on my face, I pushed through, launching myself at the gangbangers. I took hits. More than a few of them landing on bruises from the crash, but I avoided getting stabbed. And in return, I delivered devastating punches. The knuckles probably saved my life. It stunned them enough that I could get hits in and that's all that I needed.

It was an all-out brawl, and the hallways filled up to watch. Absolutely no one in the crowd had any idea what had caused it, and because of that, they pushed back the teachers when they tried to get involved. They didn't even seem to care when one of the ABB pulled out a gun, only for it to misfire when he pulled the trigger. The students… Well, they loved the sight of blood, apparently. And I was giving them plenty of it, I thought, kicking a thug in the face as hard as I could.

The crowd worked in my favor. The ABB had to push through it, giving me a window to launch myself at them. With all of the shouting and cheering, they couldn't talk to each other. So, they just came at me, and I kept knocking them down and beating the absolute shit out of them to make sure they stayed down.

There were about a hundred something ABB members at school. I only ended up fighting a fraction of them. The rest were either dealing with an invasion, or they were waiting for me after school. That much, I knew. Even still, between the crowd and the chaos, I ran out of ABB to fight. The school was going absolutely wild -- they were cheering, stomping, taking videos and pictures. It had more in common with a riot at this point.

Even still, when I turned around, the crowd parted to let me by. I felt their eyes on me, so I straightened up and retraced the mess I left behind. The ABB were groaning as they were being helped by other students to the school nurse. I walked by it all.

Being the center of attention felt exactly how I thought it would. I wasn't so deluded as to think anyone in the crowd was my friend. Hard to do that when I had just been attacked by the ABB and they had actively stopped me from getting any help. Yet, hearing them chant my name and roar in approval had its own special appeal. The respect. The adoration. The fact that for the first time in my life, I was finally someone.

I didn't let myself get lost in it. I couldn't. Not with so many ABB still running about. And buying into my own hype… that wasn't my style either, I decided.

Yet… yet, the stunned looks I got when I walked back to class and parked my ass at my desk, not even bothering to wipe the blood from my face…

That was a memory I would cherish forever.

…

“They expel you?” Jackie questioned, sliding me an icepack and a booster inhaler. I pressed the icepack to my eye, which was starting to swell, before taking a hit from the booster. It tasted like mint. The booster would increase my healing speed by a fair bit. I just had to avoid relying on them too much, or I could really fuck my body up.

I shook my head, leaning on the bar that we were at. Jackie had his back against it, his arms spread wide with his elbows propped up on the counter. “Nope. Suspended. Three days,” I added, hearing Jackie snort. Pepe, the bartender, did the same. Pepe was a large man, Latino, with his arms covered in ink. I’m pretty sure he was a Valentino, but I didn’t ask.

The Coyote bar was a nice place, I decided. It was in Heywood, tucked into an alley. I thought it would be a hole in the wall kinda place, but it was fairly large. A bar counter on the wall that you see coming in after walking down some stairs, an open area with a few tables hugging the walls. There was even an upstairs portion. It’s decor stuck to the owner’s roots -- Mexican and Spanish symbolism, a few painted glass skulls… things of that nature.

If only they didn’t give me shit for getting orange juice, I’d say I like the place.

“Only three days?” Jackie questioned with a shake of his head, clearly amused with my suffering.

“There were about a hundred angles of the ABB trying to kill me. It was pretty easy to plead excessive self-defense…” I winced as I poked at my lip, “And it helps that Blackwell doesn’t give a shit. Pretty sure the only reason I got suspended was because she didn’t want me getting ganked at school.” Pretty sure that I heard her say as much on my way out.

“Well, you don’t have to worry about that now. You’re drinking with friends,” Jackie reassured, giving me a sideways look. “Did our friend pull through?”

To that, I nodded, “They couldn’t do much with so many people around, but I’m probably not sporting a third eye because of them,” I confirmed. The fight was a bit of a blur, so I couldn’t be sure how much they had helped out, but I knew they had jammed at least one gun. So, they kept their word. They kept a watchful eye on me.

Jackie nodded, his head bobbing. "We should probably call them something other than the cape. Bug?" Jackie tried, earning a shrug from me.

"Seems appropriate, but we should probably ask before we decide anything," I returned, before taking a sip of my juice. And it was real orange juice. Probably. At the very least, I was convinced it wasn't the powdered stuff that you mix with water. All of a sudden, Jackie straightened up, prompting me to look over my shoulder to see that an elderly woman was approaching us. A hint of gray in her hair, a few wrinkles around her eyes -- I never bothered trying to guess people's ages, but she seemed like she could be…

"Jaquito, I see you're breaking in your new liver already," the woman remarked, sounding thoroughly unimpressed. Jackie let out a small laugh that sounded a touch nervous. The woman's eyes slid to me, "And you must be V. My son's spoken fondly of you. And I have to thank you for helping him get back home."

The thanks kinda caught me off guard. "We helped each other," I deflected. Jackie nodded.

"That's right. If I was a decade younger, I would have had your back in that brawl too. Speaking of which -- you need to pack on some muscle, mano. I saw the video -- people are going to learn to expect the left hook when it's all you throw." he said. The woman -- Mama Welles-- smiled lightly as she walked behind the counter.

"Best move I got Jackie," I defended. I had seen the video that was circulating. In a way, it was hard to believe that was me. "But, you're probably right."

Jackie nodded as if he knew he was. "I got some weights you can borrow. And you want to build muscle, not that showy body building crap. Looks nice, but not practical. Stay away from any boosters -- they'll mess you up something fierce." He started, then he paused. "Except for that targeted muscle milk drug from Biotech."

"The what now?" I questioned, trying to not pay attention to Mama Welles, who watched the two of us with a fond expression.

"Eh, didn't read the label, but ever since that Blasto cape got picked up by Biotech, they've been making some real preem stuff. Basically, it's a protein pill that is a performance booster rather than a straight-up steroid like what the Animals get off on." The Animals were… well, animals in a way. They ‘roided up to the point that they were hulking masses of tech and muscle. As a side effect, they lost a few IQ points and were short of temper. "You pop the pill for the muscle group you want to work, then you work out. Choom of mine uses it and he started seeing results in about a week."

Well… that was worth looking into. "Huh. Well, I'll put it on my to-do list. Now that the ABB knows who I am, they'll know where to find me. So, I'd probably hold off on giving me any weights just yet."

Jackie nodded, "Eh, true. Do you have a place to stay with your apartment too hot?"

"Yeah. Picked a room at the No-Tell Motel. Dropped everything off there. Out of everywhere I've been so far, they have the best security," I answered. The grenades, my clothes, and whatever guns I didn't keep on my person. The room was fairly expensive to use as a bolt hole, but it was worth it.

Jackie and Mama Welles shared a look, but said nothing. It would be a bit of a stretch to say that I knew Jackie well. I had only known the guy for a handful of days, but he was solid enough that I didn't think he would try anything with that information. It wasn't his style. However, before either of them could say anything, I saw Mama Welles' eyes narrow into slits as she looked beyond me and Jackie.

Looking over my shoulder, I saw why.

Tattletale confidently strode into the bar like she owned the place, that same confidence that she had displayed a few days ago back in full force. I couldn't see her face, but I could tell that she was grinning at me.

"Look who isn’t dead despite all rhyme and reason?" She started, planting a hand on her hip and cocking it. I twisted in my chair to look at her, Jackie bristling where he stood.

"What do you want?" I asked her, my eyes gliding over to the other person that was lingering near the door. A short girl with a dog mask covering her face.

Tattletale tilted her head as if she didn't understand the question. "I did say we would be in touch, didn't I?" She questioned before she held up a phone that played a short video clip. A video of me looking into a camera and introducing myself.

When it ended with me sucker-punching an ABB thug, Tattletale put the phone away.

"I heard you were available for hire… and since I'm here, I'm clearly worth knowing, aren't I?"

...

With the opening arc being over, I do think it's time to switch to the original schedule of A Hard Knock Life being a bi-weekly story. So, the next update will come on the 17th of March.