Chapter 44: Home Away From Home

  "Why didn't you tell me I could do this when I first entered the block?" I asked Diaochan as I inspected the shining metal beast before me. "It would have been helpful to turn the lights on downstairs." Diaochan appeared, hovering over my shoulder, before she replied.

  "The field deactivates as soon as you use an ability, and can be interfered with if you get attacked." It was a reasonable explanation, but she still should have told me about it sooner, and I reprimanded her for it. The A.I pouted but took her brief dressing down without complaint.

  Besides, she perked back up after I gave the A.I her next command. "This is the middle part of one of those Howler bikes. Tell me everything about it." If there was one thing the A.I version of Diaochan loved it was long lectures where she made otherwise interesting topics as dull as possible.

  The floating Diaochan tilted her head for a moment before launching into just such an explanation.

  "This is the frame and chassis from a Chrome Prophet, which is quite the find. The Prophet was the last desperate attempt to stay relevant by AuroraBlitz Mototechnics before they were driven out of business by KaiRoe and Weitech Dynamics."

  See, even talking about a powerful and heavily armored bike, she made it sound boring.

  "Not compatible with the KaiRoe flight engines that were dominating the market at the time, the Chrome Prophet ended up being a failed product. It was fast, durable, and generally easy to customize, but the cost to purchase one was simply too high for a ground-only vehicle. Also, despite its high power-to-weight ratio, it was still a little too big to truly achieve the maneuverability so prized by those who ride howlers."

  She spoke for another three minutes straight about how, despite being a commercial failure at the time of its release, the Chrome Prophet would eventually come to be prized not just as a collector's item but for its durability, its capacity to be fit with newer parts, and above all, the size and power of the engines that it could fit inside it.

  The bike in front of me that Diaochan had just explained in her boring manner was suspended between two large metal claws that held it leaning back in a frozen rearing motion. I may be peerless beneath the heavens, but it is the peerlessness of a warrior, not of a craftsman. Yet even I, whose talents lay deep within the realm of destruction, could tell two things about the vehicle immediately.

  Firstly, it was a truly magnificent machine, and secondly, it was both damaged and missing parts entirely.

  "Figure out what this Chrome Prophet needs to function," I said quietly, my mind alight with fantasies of using the machine. Next, I began exploring the bike store. Bike customization store? I don't know exactly what it was, but Vaestro's Customs, I explored Vaestro's Customs in earnest. The majority of the warehouse was taken up by large metal shelves covered in scrap parts that reminded me of Ji-Ho and Ha-Rin's workshop, though those were mostly components for weapons or cybernetics; the scrap here was almost exclusively made up of vehicle parts.

  Another difference was that the siblings made an effort to repair or repurpose the scrap they collected; no one had done so for this place in heaven knew how long. Most of the parts would honestly be better called garbage than scrap. I also found another little repair bay that had a pair of the same large metal claws that suspended the Chrome Prophet, though now Howler sat in this set of them. There were, however, a number of tools in reasonably good shape hanging off a wall like it was a weapon rack.

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  As I had ordered her to, Diaochan put together a list of what was missing or otherwise needed to be replaced on the Howler we had found, and I searched the shelves for them.

  As I did, I accessed my contact list for the next stage in my plan. As much as I wished I could, I knew calling Ji-Ho and Ha-Rin would be a mistake that did little but put them in danger. To the best of my knowledge, there was no such danger from Clan Irons for the single other person in my contact list.

  I looked at the option to call Fabio next to the miniature portrait of the fat little man I'd shared lunch with. To my chagrin, he actually didn't answer the call, which automatically stopped trying to reach him after around thirty seconds of failed attempts.

  I was ready to just keep activating the call option until the banker answered me, but Dioachan insisted that was extremely poor form, so I waited slightly under five minutes before trying once more. He didn't answer this time either, and my irritation grew further. I was in the midst of cursing him and the entirety of his De Medici family when the rich kid finally called me back.

  Even through the long-distance communication technique, I could tell that he had kept drinking. The cheerfulness of his tone and the slight slurring of his words revealed that.

  "Bu! It's customary to wait a day or two after a date before you call someone." He said before bursting into a snicker at his own terrible joke.

  With some difficulty, I managed to hold back my urge to call him an idiot.

  "Hilarious. Now listen, I need a favor."

  That killed his joviality on the spot.

  "Sorry." He said sternly, "De Medici's don't do loans with friends. If you want digi-creds from me, you have to put in an application form." I cut him off right there. Of course, the rich sky-tier dwelling man would think I wanted money; it was a perfectly reasonable expectation.

  "I don't want your digi-creds," I snapped. "I need you to collect some of my things for me."

  "Oh…Well, I don't really want to do that, but I'm glad that you don't want money. Basically, every friend I have ever had just wants money. So if this is some ploy to build up trust, you are doing well."

  "I do not want your heaven-forsaken money, you simpering drunk." I hissed at him, my patience growing extremely thin indeed. "But I really need you to do this favor for me. I am more than a little desperate."

  The irritating bastard enquired about what I would want him to do, and I explained that I needed him to pass on a message to Ji-Ho and Ha-Rin, along with collecting my spear from their workshop. The multi-clan meeting, which I now regretted attending, had not allowed weapons, and so I hadn't bothered to bring something as conspicuous as my red Over-Surge crafted spear.

  Fabio still insisted that he was far too drunk to travel back down to the lower tiers, even with his cruiser doing the driving for him. I did, however, manage to convince him to collect my spear and pass my message the next morning. It was far from an ideal solution for me, but I was lacking superior options at the moment.

  I made sure to threaten the young banker with both violence and a constant barrage of calls and messages if he didn't set out to help me first thing in the morning, which he claimed he would. Still, my plans were in motion of sorts, and I had theoretically found myself a near-perfect location from which to grow strong. There would be some potential for discovery when I needed to leave the hunting grounds for food or other supplies, but I was confident that by the time my daughter had any idea this is where I had hidden it almost wouldn't matter, I would be established enough and leveled up enough to wage a one man war on anyone sent in here to find me.

  Searching around, I collected several mats of rubber and false fur that would work as blankets or bedding in a pinch, along with a pair of howler seats. I moved close to the front entrance and settled myself in behind the counter that stood just across from the door. It wasn't going to be the most comfortable night I'd ever had, but it was also far from the worst.

  "Diaochan," I demanded. "Kill the lights and get to work hacking the doors. I want to have control of the entrances in this place before I wake up."