Bio Weapon Dystopia

Vomi woke up just a few hours later, still on the same chair as before. Despite what she believed were only a few hours of sleep, that had to be the most refreshed she felt in her life… well… all of her lives. The symbiote was still interacting with the terminal from before, his tendrils and appendages dutifully working non-stop. After straightening herself up and getting a few satisfying pops of her spine, she looked at the data that was being tinkered.

She frowned.

“I somehow understand what we are doing.”, She commented while she checked the screen, “Even though I shouldn't.”

The symbiote was carefully coding and manipulating the records of a few employees of BioTechnica in the hopes of drawing attention to them instead of themselves, putting some incriminating evidence here, a open arrest warrant there, deleting some important files on another person or even adding stuff that was complete nonsense in a few. In another screen, there were the records of the current HQ and how many people used this place, the tendrils making sure that they can't be tracked or retraced by reversing the search engine. Vomi understood every bit of coding, hacking, breaching and every stroke of the keyboard, be it flat on a high end screen, on the air, on a classic keyboard or even with the cursor that apparently was also altering data.

“The knowledge of the original Vomi might still be in our brain.”, The Klyntar said as he finished in two of the many screens he was tinkering with, “That will come in handy for our survival.”

“Just so we are totally clear, I want more than just survival. I won't run forever.”, The woman said as she also picked up a mobile device to check on a few pieces of information herself, “California, huh? We will need to go somewhere else for now.”

“While I do approve our dislocation to another city, we must remember that our presence needs concealment.”, He rebuked, but never stopped working on the screens.

Vomi sighed as she put the device on the nearby table, “I get it, but living only for the sake of survival isn't living. I want to do more than just that. After all, I am still human, mostly.”

She added that last part after realizing that she wasn't wrong, but wasn't right either.

“My directives tell me to protect—”

“Yeah I know!”, The scientist snapped, yelling at the stubborn companion, “But I ain't made out of glass, nor am I stupid to just throw my life away!”

The appendages stopped working and merged with one another, creating a face very similar to Venom, just the eyes being way rounder instead of the usual sharpness he usually has, “Why are you so willing to take risks?”

“Because I don't want to live with fear.”, She said simply while putting hands on her hips, “You were created in a lab, yes, I can give you that, but your creator isn't here anymore. There isn't anyone to order you around. Those parameters and directives should only work if you don't have a free will or at the very least, consciousness. But you are so set in following some to-do list that you keep forgetting that you are alive.”

The symbiote's face twisted slightly, the round eyes narrowing just a bit as if processing her words. He didn't respond right away, clearly not used to being challenged on his rigid worldview—or whatever counted as a worldview for a lab-grown alien lifeform. Vomi crossed her arms, staring him down.

"I am following my directives because they ensure your survival. Without them, we’re just inviting death," the symbiote finally replied, his voice tense. "I don’t see how that benefits either of us."

Vomi shook her head, chuckling softly. “Survival’s not enough, partner. Not here, not anywhere. What’s the point of surviving if you’re just waiting for the next bad thing to happen? Might as well be dead already."

The symbiote blinked, or at least it looked like a blink, his eyes retracting into the black mass. “Your human emotions—this desire for... freedom—is irrational."

"Maybe, but that's what makes us who we are. We take risks, we dream, we do stupid things for no reason sometimes. But that's how you actually live." She sighed, sitting back down in her chair. "Look, I get it. You were built to follow orders, to complete objectives. But we’re in the wild now. It’s just us. There’s no BioTechnica, no Militech, no big bad corporations pulling the strings. And even if they try, we gotta be smarter than them.”

The symbiote paused, seeming to consider her words. His tendrils twitched slightly, as if wrestling with some internal conflict. “You propose we disregard safety for… freedom?”

“Not disregard. Balance. We’re not gonna get anywhere just hiding in dark corners all the time. Besides," Vomi grinned, leaning forward, "I bet there’s a part of you that likes this. The danger, the unpredictability. You weren’t made just to sit on the sidelines, were you?”

Another silence filled the room, and for a moment, Vomi thought she might’ve pushed too hard. Then, slowly, the symbiote’s tendrils began to withdraw, returning to its usual form as it merged back into her body.

“Perhaps... you are correct,” the symbiote finally admitted. “There is... some merit in taking calculated risks.”

Vomi smiled. “That’s more like it.”

She stood up, stretching, feeling more energized than ever. The tension between them seemed to ease, at least for now. They weren’t totally in sync yet, but they were getting there.

“So, we’re heading out then? Maybe somewhere less, uh, trigger-happy?” she asked, grabbing the mobile device again to pull up a map.

“Affirmative. But we must remain vigilant. There will still be forces seeking us out.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ve got that part,” she said, dismissively waving her hand. “But let’s make this move count, alright? Maybe we’ll even find a place where we can actually lay low for more than five minutes.”

The symbiote hummed in agreement, his usual businesslike tone softened, as if he was slowly coming around to her way of thinking.

As she stepped out of the safehouse, the sun now fully risen over the horizon, Vomi couldn’t help but feel a surge of excitement. And with the symbiote by her side, maybe—just maybe—they’d carve out something more than just survival.

“Alright, next stop—wherever the hell we want,” she said with a grin.

The symbiote didn’t protest this time.

Leaving Night City was surprisingly easy. She just needed a car, and since she didn't have a shard key to actually own or steal a car, like stealing keys, she needed to hotwire the whole thing. Not ideal, for sure, but it's way better than needing to rely on things that weren't in control. A Galena, very low-end car, was spotted by them, so the only thing needed was to open the door, which was easy when they broke the window, open the compartment under the steering wheel and do some work on the wires and personal interface of the car. Even old as fuck cars like this needed some basic interface, apparently.

The Galena quickly came to life as it's engine roared humbly, as it's horsepower was nowhere near enough to be loud. Past Vomi’s knowledge for the win!

Taking the car off the parking lot, she drove it down the street and onto the big highway that connected all the main districts. It wasn't hard to see where the outskirts of the city were once there, and she wasn't really obeying traffic laws, something that apparently no one did as far as the symbiotic duo could tell, she raced through the slowest traffic and got to the roadblock that separated Night City from the outside world. But, a Galena, going out the city? They didn't even stop Vomi, letting her go, probably thinking that the car might fall apart just from the unkept roads or the rocky desert that was outside the city.

Thankfully the fuel was above half capacity. That meant they could actually go to another place and refuel, or steal a car.

“I feel like a nomad.”, She commented offhandedly.

The radio was thankfully playing Samurai. Chippin’ In, to be precise.

“Nomads to tend to travel long distances in search of income, yes.”, The symbiote said, his tone even more softer than before.

Vomi noted that, but decided to not comment on it.

“By the way…”, She said, changing the subject, “What did you find on that headquarters? You said that Vomi had contingency plans.”

“Indeed.”, He nodded, sharing some information through… their connected minds?, “Plans consisted in biological removal of our integrity in case the experiment went wrong, if the experiment was successful but put a target on her back, such as the situation we are in, and some information about what exactly she had done for her body before integration.”

Vomi hummed as she nodded more to the song than the information, “I have the knowledge in my brain, but I doubt I'd understand what she did to herself… Well, now myself.”

“To summarize, she used DNA of various animals, said genetic material that was already forcefully altered to perform better. Strength, Speed, Wits, Reaction, the sort of experiment that enhances every aspect of the human body.”, He continued his explanation regardless, seemingly positive about it, “Of course, these tests usually brought bad whiplash to her biology. Every good result had a bad unpredictable effect as well.”

She whistled at that, impressed and concerned at the same time, “How did she even survive before… well, before the Klyntar Project?”

“She mostly almost didn't.”, He said with minor sorrow, almost emotional, “My creator lived under constant medical attention, both herself taking care of the mutations in her body and BioTechnica as whole, trying to replicate her inventions without the drawbacks.”

“And they succeeded?”

“In general, they did a decent job. Some cybernetics and augmentations did came from Vomi's work. But they never could replicate a fraction of her work.”

“Shit.”, She said one hand off the wheel, inspecting her arm, “Does that mean I have some of those drawbacks?”

“No.”, The symbiote shook his head, “Our integration was done by injection of Nanobots, mixed with my own biologic matter. That was supposed to be a counter measure to the drawbacks, postponing the inevitable. However, I cannot detect any illness from within us.”

“...So are we cured?”

“Probably.”

“Cool.”, She said as she put her hand on the wheel again, “That means I don't need to be heavily dependant on your powers. Good thing to know since we will keep a low profile.”

“Agreed.”, He commented before coming out of Vomi's body and checking the radio himself, “This song is… intriguing.”

“Hear our call, I am Chippin' In!”, Vomi yelled the main part of the song, the symbiote just vibing along.

He merged back together, letting the woman enjoy the song until it finished.

“Indeed. Human recreation is quite interesting.”.

Was he jamming to the song too?

Vomi mostly drove northwest after a while, going to the direction of different cities in Colorado. But she already had a destination in mind thanks to a little bit of searching: San Francisco. Sure, Los Angeles was way closer, but it didn't have that much safety. Sure, we are comparing it to Night City, but LA wasn't as safe either. And she always wanted to visit the Silicon Valley, so there is that too.

As the song finished, the radio was now only transmitting static, the wind and sand being rather intrusive thanks to the broken window of the Galena. It was quiet, except for the tires and the engine.

“Samurai is a really good band. It's a shame music in 2076 is not as good. I guess they even call this retro?”, Vomi pondered as she looked at the road, no cars of traffic to be seen.

The symbiote’s voice came through her thoughts, more curious than usual. “Retro? It seems humans often romanticize the past, even if it was just as flawed as the present.”

Vomi chuckled, adjusting her grip on the wheel. “Yeah, guess we all do that. Makes it easier to cope with how messed up things are now. Music, at least, makes it all feel a bit better.”

The road stretched endlessly before them, the barren wasteland outside of Night City feeling almost alien compared to the chaotic, neon-filled streets they had just left behind. No more gunfights in the middle of the street, no more suffocating corporate towers. Just a whole lot of nothing. But, for the first time in a long while, Vomi didn’t mind the emptiness.

“So,” she started, glancing at the radio for a moment, “San Francisco, huh? Think it’ll be any better than Night City?”

“Doubtful,” the symbiote replied, “but perhaps it will offer us fewer immediate threats. The focus in Silicon Valley is different from Night City’s corporate warfare. We may find opportunities there.”

“Opportunities, huh?” Vomi grinned, stepping harder on the gas pedal. “Let’s just hope it doesn’t get too boring.”

They drove in silence for a while longer, the endless desert giving way to more rugged landscapes. The sky above was beginning to darken again, the brief stretch of daylight in the wastelands quickly fading into another cold night. But Vomi felt a strange sense of peace, a quiet that settled in her bones. It wasn’t exactly freedom—not yet—but it was a step in the right direction.

“Hey,” she said suddenly, her eyes still focused on the road ahead, “thanks. For, y’know, sticking with me. I know you didn’t really have a choice at first, but… it means something. That we’re in this together.”

The symbiote didn’t respond right away, but when it did, its voice was softer, almost reflective. “You and I are one now. Your survival is my survival. But beyond that… perhaps I, too, seek something more than just existence.”

Vomi smiled to herself, feeling a warmth spread through her chest. “Well, whatever we’re looking for, we’ll figure it out together.”

The rest of the journey passed quietly, the old car rumbling along the desolate road, taking them toward whatever awaited in San Francisco.

A few hours have passed, the Galena being very tired from cruising on the road. But that wasn't the main problem.

“I think we are being followed.”, Vomi commented.

She checked the fuel and it was getting low. And quite frankly she hadn't seen a CHOOH2 station in a long time by now.

“My information data is limited. I am unaware of those vehicles and what they pose.”, The symbiote said as he peeped through the broken window and saw a lot of nomad cars before merging again.

“As expected Vomi, your corpo side never falters.”, She shook her head, half amused half annoyed, “From the decals of their cars I'd say they are Aldecados. Generally friendly, but let's not let our guards down.”

“How can you affirm that?”, He asked, curious and at the same time suspicious, not at her, but at the cars behind.

As someone who liked to search Cyberpunk Lore, she frowned a bit.

“They worked in LA a long time ago. Using their knowledge of Civil Engineering and all that. A lot of buildings needed construction, mainly Arasaka. Although I think LA is not that liveable right now, even to its denizens.”, She said while gearing down the engine, pulling over the road, “Pollution is the main problem, and the corpos aren't concerned at all, even when the population needs to use Synth Lungs.”

The Galena slowed to a crawl, coming to a stop at the side of the road. Vomi kept her eyes on the rearview mirror, watching as the convoy of nomad vehicles grew closer. Dust clouds kicked up in the distance as they approached. Her fingers tapped the steering wheel impatiently, but she remained outwardly calm.

The symbiote, sensing her tension, chimed in. “If they become hostile, we can defend ourselves. We are equipped.”

“Let’s not jump to conclusions,” Vomi muttered. “We’re in their territory. No need to pick a fight unless it’s absolutely necessary.”

The Aldecaldos' vehicles slowed as they neared her car, surrounding it in a loose formation. One of the trucks, a rugged off-roader with a makeshift turret strapped to the back, came to a halt directly in front of her. The driver, a heavily chromed man with tribal tattoos running up his neck, stepped out, his crew following close behind.

Vomi rolled down the rest of her broken window and leaned out, giving them a casual nod. “Hey, no need for all the heat. Just passing through.”

The leader eyed her up and down, his gaze lingering on her strange outfit and the noticeable gooey symbiote tendrils flickering at the edges of her wrists before they disappeared back into her skin. He raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment. Instead, he leaned against his truck, arms crossed.

“You lost, Bennie?” His voice was gruff, but not immediately hostile.

“Not lost,” Vomi replied coolly. “Just on my way to San Fran. Saw your convoy behind me, figured I’d let you pass. Didn’t mean to cause any trouble.”

The leader smirked, nodding at his crew. “We saw you. Old car, barely holding together. Thought we’d check in, make sure you’re not stranded, choom.”

“We’re good,” Vomi said, glancing at the fuel gauge. “But… yeah, low on CHOOH2. If you know where I can find some, that’d help.”

The man glanced at her car again, then shrugged. “Might be a station up the road. But it’s Aldecaldo territory, so you’ll need to go through us to get there.”

Vomi raised an eyebrow. “And what’s that gonna cost me?”

The man grinned, a glint of amusement in his eyes. “Depends. You don’t look like a corpo, but you’re definitely not a nomad either. You offering something?”

She thought for a moment. “Got some skills. I can hack, fix things, breach systems. If you’ve got any tech that needs tweaking, maybe we can work something out.”

The leader exchanged glances with his crew, “A Netrunner? You city folks are full of surprises.”

Another man got close, nodding at Vomi but quickly turning his attention to the leader, “Henry, we kinda do need someone that can run the Net. Can't deal good with a bunch of gonks trying to fuck us over without a good merc. Although I don't think you are a merc, no offense.”

“None taken.”, Vomi shrugged.

Henry scratched his chin, eyeing Vomi with newfound interest. "Alright then. We got some shit that needs fixing. Been getting some static from a local scav gang that’s been messing with our communications. You help us clear that up, we’ll top off your tank and maybe throw in some extra supplies.”

Vomi glanced back at her car, then at the crew. It wasn’t like she had much of a choice if she wanted to keep moving. Plus, she could use some allies outside of Night City—especially if she wanted to lay low for a while.

“Deal,” she said. “Lead the way.”

“Preem.”

Henry nodded, gesturing for her to follow. The nomads piled back into their vehicles, and Vomi climbed into the Galena, falling in behind their convoy as they headed toward a nearby camp. As they drove, the symbiote’s voice rang in her head.

“Engaging with these nomads could complicate matters. They may expect more from us later.”

“We need the fuel,” Vomi replied, keeping her eyes on the road. “And we might need them later. Friends are better than enemies, right?”

The symbiote hummed in agreement, though it was clear he remained skeptical.

When they arrived at the camp, it was a sprawling, makeshift setup in the middle of the desert. Solar panels, tents, and vehicles formed the backbone of the nomad community. They parked near a large RV, and Henry motioned for Vomi to follow him inside.

Inside, she was greeted by a mess of wires, cables, and outdated tech. A couple of nomads were hunched over terminals, swearing at the screens. One of them looked up as Henry walked in, raising an eyebrow at Vomi.

“This her? The city gonk who’s gonna fix our problem?” the man asked.

“She says she’s got the skills. Give her a shot,” Henry said, folding his arms.

Vomi stepped forward, examining the setup. It didn’t take long for her to figure out what the problem was—a bunch of outdated software and some faulty connections. Typical for nomad tech, really. But nothing she couldn’t handle.

That's of course before she started working in the stuff. It wasn't because it was difficult, but more because she wasn't familiar with it. Sure she had the knowledge, but practice was different. And she even checked that it could be that they needed to replace some tech to actually work as good as it needed to. Jamming comms wasn't as easy, even for Nomad software. She cracked her knuckles and got to work, her fingers flying across the keyboard as she dove into the code. The symbiote’s presence was like a second mind helping her work, allowing her to multitask and process data faster than any regular person could.

A few minutes have passed with no visual progress, at least for Henry and the Aldecados he was leading.

“How's it going?”, He asked, checking in alongside the other programmer that was trying to help Vomi.

“Not perfect,” Vomi muttered, not taking her eyes off the screens. “You guys are running on tech so old, I’m surprised it’s even holding together. Half of these lines of code are patch jobs.”

She tapped a few keys, diving deeper into the tangled mess of software. The terminals in front of her flickered, displaying layers upon layers of outdated security protocols. These were simple, low-level programs designed to keep out amateur hackers but were no match for the more sophisticated methods of scav gangs who had been jamming their comms.

“Care to share what you are doing? I am half lost here.”, Their programmer asked as he caught a glimpse of the screen.

“Your comms system’s using an ancient encryption method. No wonder the scavs were able to mess with it,” she explained. “And some of the hardware connections are loose. I’m surprised you even have a signal at all.”

“Can't really improve tech that much while in the desert. High end parts are hard to come by ground, and if they do, they are heavily guarded.”, Henry offered as he lit a cigar.

“This tech is ancient.”, Vomi deadpanned, “Give me some tools, I'll work on the antenna.”

Both of them shrugged.

The symbiote subtly enhanced her focus, allowing her to process multiple tasks simultaneously. On one screen, she was running diagnostics on the communication network, tracking down points of interference. On another, she was sorting through lines of messy code, identifying weaknesses and vulnerabilities.

The first issue she tackled was stabilizing the physical connections. With a set of tools that Henry handed over, she began rewiring some of the outdated tech. Loose cables were reseated, and damaged connectors were replaced. Once the hardware was stable, she turned her full attention to the software.

“Alright, the cables are secure now. Let’s deal with this garbage code,” she said, cracking her knuckles again.

She accessed the network’s root code and started cleaning up the patches that had been haphazardly thrown in over the years. The scavs had exploited backdoors in the system—old, unsecured protocols that had never been properly updated. Vomi systematically closed off those backdoors, adding new encryption layers and securing the network’s firewall.

“What you need is a complete system overhaul,” she told Henry as she worked. “But I’m gonna give you a patch for now. This should lock the scavs out for a while, but don’t expect it to hold up forever.”

“Nova.”, Henry nodded, “But eddies aren't exactly our main strength right now. Gotta have some gigs to pay an actual Netrunner to fix this shit.”

She typed faster, creating a custom program that would constantly shift the encryption keys, making it nearly impossible for anyone to break back in without spending hours decoding. It wasn’t a perfect solution, but it would at least buy the Aldecaldos time.

“I’ve set up a dynamic encryption loop. Every time someone tries to hack in, the system will change its encryption. They’ll have to start from scratch every time,” she explained, “Unless they are good, that is.”

“That will do.”, The programmer said as he checked over the code, “As far as I can tell, this is better than I can do. I will probably do just some debugging after a while before it's completely changed.”

The last part of her work involved beefing up the radio frequency they were using for their long-range comms. The scavs had been piggybacking on the weak signal, listening in and jamming whenever they felt like it. Vomi rerouted the signal to a stronger frequency and scrambled it, ensuring that any eavesdroppers would hear nothing but static.

“Try it now,” she said, stepping back from the terminal.

One of the Aldecaldos hesitated but pressed a button on the comms unit. The screen flickered, then stabilized. Clear static-free audio came through, and the look on the nomad’s face was one of pure relief.

“No more scavs on our line,” he said, grinning.

“Fuck, she actually did it.”

Vomi leaned back against the table, arms crossed. “That should hold you for now. But seriously, upgrade your tech, or this will happen again.”

Henry let out a low chuckle, taking a drag from his cigar. “Easier said than done, city girl. But we’ll figure something out. You’ve bought us time, and that’s more than anyone else’s done lately.”

Vomi shrugged, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Well, I’m not a miracle worker. If those scavs are persistent, they’ll find another way. Just be ready.”

The programmer who had been watching her work nodded in agreement. “I’ll keep an eye on the system. Thanks for the patch, it’s a hell of a lot better than what we were working with.”

With the job done, Vomi wiped her hands on a rag and glanced out the RV’s window. The sun was beginning to dip below the horizon, casting long shadows over the desert. She could feel the day’s fatigue creeping up on her, but there was still a long road ahead.

Henry followed her gaze and seemed to read her mind. “It’s getting late. You can stay here for the night if you want. Safe enough, at least.”

She considered it for a moment. A night of rest sounded tempting, but the thought of staying still for too long put her on edge. “Thanks for the offer, but I need to delta. Got a long way to go.”

“Suit yourself.” Henry shrugged but didn’t press the issue. “If you ever need something, you know where to find us.”

“Appreciate it,” Vomi said with a nod. She turned and headed back toward the Galena, her feet kicking up dust as she walked. The nomads had already refueled the car and loaded the extra canisters, so she was good to go, “I need to get some shoes.

Sliding into the driver’s seat, she started the engine, and the symbiote’s voice hummed softly in her mind. “They were cooperative. A rare occurrence in this environment.”

“Yeah, well, it’s not every day you find people who aren’t trying to shoot you or rip you off,” Vomi replied, pulling away from the camp. “Nomads aren’t so bad. They just want to survive, like everyone else.”

“Survival remains our priority as well.”

She glanced at the horizon as the last traces of sunlight disappeared, the endless road stretching ahead. “Yeah, but like I said before, I want more than just survival.”

With the desert behind her, she focused on the drive ahead, the low rumble of the engine and the whistling wind through the broken window filling the silence. The road to San Francisco still lay ahead, and while she didn’t know what she’d find there, at least now she had a little more fuel in the tank and a lot more confidence in her ability to keep going.

“Jesus Christ, how do these people live here?!”

Vomi was baffled at the way the air smelled. It took a few more hours and a night of sleep inside the car, but she arrived at her fist stop before San Francisco.

But by the love of god, Los Angeles is awful.

She was grateful that their combined biology made so the chemicals in the air didn't affect her, because otherwise it would be unbearable.

“Remind what we are doing here again?”, The complete lack (or even the opposite) of enthusiasm was telling.

Vomi ended up putting a hand in her nose. Her nostrils didn't like the toxic air as much as the next guy, but it's either here or the next city. And given the state of the N.U.S.A., it's better to stop here than drive days worth of nothing or warzones.

“We need some supplies. First, clothes.”, She said while driving the main populational areas of LA, once the bright and filled streets now just a shadow of their former selves, “I can go by unnoticed with a gray skin and red eyes, a lot of people chrome stuff way weirder. But I can't go on about a black-dyed suit of the hospital all day for the rest of my life. Besides I need shoes. I still feel the sand on my toes.”

“And we needed to stop here to acquire such items?”

“I didn't think about it when we met the Aldecados, alright?”, She sighed, obviously frustrated at herself for not thinking it sooner, “But that's not only that. Night City police might not care about a stolen Galena, even more the normal civilian type, but other cities might not be as lenient. We need an actual car we can use without worrying about cops on our tail.”

“Safety.”, The symbiote hummed, “What else we require?”

“We need to chipp in some actual chrome.”

She parked the Galena outside of a bar, turning the engine off. There was still some CHOOH2 canisters in the trunk, but since she won't use the car anymore, there is no point in holding them.

“We left a decoy with the previous cybernetics. Why get new ones?”, He asked confusedly, more curious than annoyed, since it was counter productive to get something you just got rid off of.

Vomi looked at the bar, then sighed, “Because we need EuroDollars. If we don't have an Agent, Optics and a Personal Chord, the basic of the basics of Chrome, we won't be able to be ID’ed or even get payments. I want eddies. Eddies are nice.”

“We were meant to lay low. Identity is secondary.”

“That would be the case if not for every corner having an ID scanner. The more time we spent impossible to identify, the worse it is for us in the long run.”

After that, the black goo didn't have an argument to go against it. It was starting to become a reoccurrence in their time meeting each other.

“Fine. I will refrain from protesting.”

“No you won't.”, She said half amused half relieved, “But let's keep going at a slow pace.”

Then they entered the bar, one that they could find a job.

Or rather, a gig.