Day 3
A blunt smack in the face. "The fuck up, man." It's the bald contact who'd instructed him to get the upgrades earlier. Blurry vision returns as does wakefulness. "You're a hard man to find when you hit stealth, consumed by your Harpocrates Cloaking EMF." Agent 943.5 stands and stumbles slightly. "Come to find, You're out here getting shit for brains tweaked while on the job." The bald pale face man in hat lights a cigarette - he looks different, more human, in the daylight. "Did you meet up with the old loon and his assistance?" Our agent groans and nods in response. "Good, the man's a fucking whack job clone of a genius with neuro circuits. Problem is clones been left to their own devices and glitch themselves for larfs, their work kinda gets sloppy after it's been installed for a good while but they come cheap. You've made a real fucking mess of things for loosing the Mercury suit's prototype down there like you did. Rodent industries is pissed, it featured their latest Bodsoft wetware interface which was supposed to be cross format compatible. It's probably crawling with infection by now. Try to get your shit straight. From now 'til this assignment is complete you're on loan through Lenisker's, more-than-happy-to-oblige CEO - indentured servitude, son. For a "small-time" operation Lenisker has alot pull in the community."
943.5 pulls out a small communication device in from his left pocket, it's screen is flashing in green neon text: "Begin the Harvest per your assignment. 9-Cubed is already well ahead of you. - Codename:Z./w." "Fuck" 943.5 spits a thought into existence "- competition on the job." The last thing a recently Restructed agent needs.
Agent 943.5 rubs his eyes and wonders why he has to deal with all this shit. A greater cause...? Somewhere down the distant line of time he seems to recall purpose to the madness. "Anyways, you'll probably want to be getting the fuck out of town as soon as possible because of what you and that gang of Lillins did. This market has lots of traffic from those regions. Primary import here is some of it's malefic fruits and cacti, sweet and rotten to the taste of the tongue. Surely, they'll be looking for you. Only one place for you now, the Outlands. Your two contacts from Rodent Industries are waiting for you at the local transport terminal, you have another agent to pick up before your mission can begin."