The Deadman

The last job that he had concerning Alice was the warning sign. He didn’t know that things would go wrong until every gangbanger and faction in the city started pointing their guns at one another. Even the Lux’s City’s finest officers had gotten involved in the fight.

“Everyone found in the streets during the curfew will be apprehended and questioned.”

It was evening. Robert could probably go back to his apartment and then chill, but the amount of drones being deployed around the district was quite concerning.

For the last hour they have heard a car explode and gunshots sounding. It was dangerously close that it made Robert wonder if he’d have to worry about his motorcycle and apartment.

“That’s checkmate.”

“Hmm,” Robert groaned as he looked at the piece that Julie moved on the chessboard. He could have played darts or pool, but he had beer prior to the curfew and had enough that his vision wasn’t working so well.

All-sense worked with the idea that he could concentrate hard enough to highlight the intentions of others.

“You are very good with this.”

“I had my share of playing chess during college,” Julie said confidently. “Had to play matches and did stuff. Mind you I didn’t enjoy the game of chess, but it was the only club that didn’t cost much to get into and most of the play’s about sitting inside an air-conditioned room.”

“What was that move you first did?”

“Sicilian defense. One of the best and still is the most effective. It might be called ‘defense’ but it’s still an aggressive play. I thought you’d be good at this.”

“Could have mentioned that you were in a chess club before I made a mockery of myself.”

“You lasted seventy-six moves. Want to do another?”

“I’ll pass this time.”

Robert sagged his shoulders and leaned on the counter. Julie’s smug face somewhat annoyed him, but he took the bills out of his pocket and handed it over to her.

“Thank you very much, customer.”

“So, other than working here and scamming people out of their money by being good at chess. What do you do?”

“Hey, if you’re going to be a sore loser. We could have done pool instead.”

“What about darts?”

“Alice told me how you decked four thugs in quick succession. I am not going to embarrass myself in front of someone who can do that.”

“You should.”

“Sore loser.”

Robert groaned, “Other than having that liver implant. Any thoughts about getting any implants for self-defense?”

“I actually thought about it. Lux City isn’t particularly a safe place without it. I have a pistol that my boss told me to keep, but it barely gives any comfort considering that most of the gangsters worth their salt have subdermal implants. I asked James about any good self defense implants and he told me that I should get reflex implants and finger bullets.”

“Finger bullets?”

“Bullet-tipped fingers. James told me that they are cheap and effective since you can take them by surprise when you raise your hands up. I actually did mull about it, but after a few days decided against it. It didn’t make sense to me, you know? Chopping my fingers off and replacing them with bullets. The maintenance alone is going to be a hassle and it came to me that I like having real flesh. I think you can agree with that.”

“I don’t mind getting one as long as it was damaged and needed replacement. Mercenaries tend to get enhancements because of their line of work and in my case if I do get one. It’s going to because someone rips my arm off.”

“Glad that you agree with the sentiment then.”

“I do,” Robert groaned. “Hey , can you get me a beer?”

“I’d refused, but what the heck? I’ll get us another. Not that you’d be leaving with the chaos outside.”

“Thanks.”

She got behind her workstation and mixed up some beer chemicals and placed them on the table they were playing chess on. Robert took a sip of the foam and clicked his tongue.

“Premium beer must cause a lot.”

“It does. I have discounts when it comes to purchasing actually brewed beer that came from grain, and hops. For some reason I got into this chemically made beer more than actual beer.”

“They are addicting and sweeter than actual beer.”

“That they are. But you’d be surprised how people tend to not share opinions. I even got into an argument with a fellow bartender taking the vocational course about bartending. They look at me like I’m some heretic and a contrarian for it.”

“Are you?”

“No. I don’t hate actual beer, but I guess I was so used to chemical beer that it became my go to when purchasing and that they are cheaper. I don’t want to spend 500 dollars on real beer.”

“Could have said that you don’t like actual beer because it's expensive. Might actually make you sound like you don’t hate real beer.”

“Well, that came to me, but I don’t know why I defended myself like I wasn’t some real cheapskate for it. Could have gone better than that. Still though, you must be earning a lot to spend so much money on beer. I’m starting to think that you actually have implants on your liver. Even John goes red when he drinks this much.”

“Where’s he by the way?”

“He said that he went to his girlfriend to protect her. Kinda sweet of him actually. He doesn’t show it, but he can be quite a gentleman.”

“Must be worried.”

“He should be since his girlfriend lives in Chinatown. He’s probably there to make sure no thugs get in her apartment. But I was sure he had a packet of condoms in his bag. Must be trying to score some points.”

Robert didn’t comment. He took a sip of his beer and then looked at the newsflash. Riots in the center. A gangwar all over the poorer districts and data crashes.

“Does this happen a lot?”

“It’s nothing really. All forms of violence aren't new in this city. I heard that this city’s founding started because of smuggling illegal goods. There were also a lot of awful activities like human slavery and organ harvesting, but that was around ‘48? I’m not a historian. My grandpa did live in this city and he told me that he was around when it still had the name of Saint Lucius. A city that shouldn’t exist.”

Robert nodded, “What brought you into this city? If anything, you seem to be the kind that doesn't want to live in this kind of city. Considering the high crime rate, the awful amount of gangsters, and the serious amount of violence going on, I’m surprised you’re still here.”

“Do I look that meek??”

“No. But I assume that there’s a reason?”

“I don’t know. This city has a lot of faults. But it’s one of the places you can live freely. Tax isn’t as bad here. Oh man, it’s worse in other cities. I know some people who barely could enjoy their pay because of utility. Now it’s utterly safe because of the surveillance, and yet it’s like you’re part of a machine. Life becomes gray and you wonder if you’re living your life and not just surviving. This city is a shithole, but at least it can give you some freedom.”

A car exploded in the distance. Gunfire continued to sound outside of the bar.

“Well, you know what I’m talking about, Robert. What about you? Alice told me that you just appeared like a ghost. Even started calling you a mystery since it’s hard to get information on you.”

“That so?”

Robert drank a mouthful.

“You’re not chipped. You have no implant lines. No anything and you are surprisingly good at being a premium delivery boy for Boss Pei. Believe me when I say that it’s hard to become a premium courier for Boss Pei, considering how easy it is to get zeroed working for him.”

“I heard that the competition is fierce. Boss Pei tends to be neutral, and some folks tend to hate fence-sitters like Boss Pei. I do have times where I spot folks that try to rob me, but I usually just avoid them than engage them.”

“You make it sound like you hate fighting.”

“Maybe. Oh, I never really was the kind that loved fighting. I do have times where all the blood goes into my head and I can’t help but act on that impulse, but it rarely happens. Honestly, there are times where I wish I never got groomed into being a merc or learned how to fight. In my world, I mean hometown. It’s either you learn to fight hard or just die. Fighting is mandatory.”

“What a shithole.”

“It is. It’s a place where there are only a few people and a few places that are worth paying attention to.”

“Wow, for a second your face brightened up.”

Rober had been trying to avoid thinking about the past. It was a past that can’t be fixed. It was a painful memory that would remain on the back of his head.

“It has passed and like always… we have to move on. Cherish the memories. It’s rare for people to get third chances. Second chances are already rare, but a third one? Hard not to think about your priorities and how you do things.”

Julie drank her beer, “I guess I should be grateful that my life’s pretty normal. I don’t get a lot of excitement other than being mugged once. Never got beaten by bullies and there was rarely a time that I felt so threatened. If anything, the most exciting parts of my life can be counted. I did have time that I felt miserable because of a breakup. Having misunderstandings with my exes. But it never really amounted to anything. There are times that I wish I could have done something. Choose a different option, but it’s only when everything’s done that I get to discover these choices.”

Julie held her head, as if embarrassed by her confession.

“I’m not laughing at least. Yeah, I can understand the feeling of wanting to have done something different. It’s not something to be embarrassed about. It’s not like we’re measuring how interesting our life is by the things that we experienced. We all have our own pain and hurt.”

“That’s kinda understanding of you.”

“Someone taught me that. That we all have our own pain and hurt. Things that we’ve been hurt by. It might not be because of a failure. It’s a matter of point of view.”

“That’s one way to think about it. Are you always this sappy?”

“Not always. I like to blame the beer that the bartender has scammed me after getting me to lose a chess match.”

“Are you going to bring this up in the future?”

“Depends if you play darts with me right now. I might not nag you about this loss.”

Julie frowned and then raised her hands in surrender, “Fine, you’ll get your revenge. But if I somehow miraculously win. I’d never stop nagging about it.”

“Deal.

Julie reluctantly brought out the darts and started playing a match. As expected, she got curb stomped by Robert mercilessly. Not giving her a chance to come close to even getting half of his score.

Looking at the score tally. Julie looked at Robert irritatingly and crossed her arms.

“I’m never going to play with you again. You’re the worst about this.”

“Just messing with you.”

“Sure, mister. This is just you ‘messing around’ then. I’d take that as a concession.”

“For what?”

“You know what you did.”

Robert raised a brow before laughing hard. The night continued until Robert finally felt his liver aching. By the time he woke up, he was sleeping on the booth with his face planted on the flat of the table and drooling, while Julie was nursing her head with ice.

“My head… you look awful, man.”

“I think… I discovered how much my liver implant can take. I think I’m going to puke.”

“No more exploding cars?”

“The Consortium took care of the situation. Quite a bloodbath in the slums from what I heard. I’m off to get some coffee. I’ll pay if you help me clean up.”

“Might as well.”

Robert dragged his stiff body and started cleaning up the bar. By the time John arrived in the bar, he was staring at the mess and decided to take over and told Julie to take a break.

After getting some bitter coffee, Robert parted with Julie and went back to his apartment with a throbbing headache.