Outrun - Cyberpunk LitRPG

Inquisitor Ligh Strumgard and Hope Esquire, or whatever her actual last name was, sat in his office as I knocked on the open door. Their very serious conversation halted as both looked up at me.

Inquisitor Ligh stood, his silver-clad arms raising slightly. “Shquire! So glad you could make it.”

Not like I had much of a choice... “‘Course, Sir.”

Hope smiled politely at me, the smile dragging sharply as her eyes seemed to sag with bags. “Greetings.”

“Come along now, shquiresh, Vald awaits ush.” Ligh stretched out his arm, grabbing his silver long sword from its resting place against his desk and slinging it back into place. He pushed past me and out into the hall, his silver armor reflecting the light blindingly into my eyes. I flinched back slightly, only to feel a hand on my shoulder.

”You get used to it.” Hope offered with a smile that seemed as though it was meant to be reassuring. Instead, it came across as oddly threatening? It was like she put too much effort into it.

"Which part?"

"Well... none of it?" Hope frowned. "Sorry, Damien is better at this kind of stuff."

Damien? Still, I didn't ask as we pushed out into the hall. Probably another Squire if I had to guess, but it wasn't that important. Hopefully, I could find a way out of this position soon? I really hope so, at least.

I followed the duo down the maze of halls inside of the Blue Crusade Little Yukoto Department. We passed by several rooms I’d never seen before, finally coming to a stop at a heavily armored and guarded door. Two Crusaders, Squires based on their half-silver armor, flanked the door armed with rifles. They cleared the way as Inquisitor Ligh walked between them.

Inside the room was about as I would expect. The entire place was fully armored up, looking as though it was more akin to a bank vault than anything. A tall man with dark mutton chops stood behind the counter. A Blue Crusade hat sat tightly pulled down almost to his eyes.

“Vald.” Strumgard icily called as we entered.

The man stoically nodded. “Ligh.”

“You got what I ashked for?”

Vald looked at me and Hope before shrugging. He reached down below the counter, pulling out a bottle of-

The Inquisitor stepped in front of my view. By the time I peeked around him, the bottle vanished. “Ah, no, not that one. The other thing?”

“Right.” Vald nodded, the dangly bits of his beard flapping. He stepped back into the armory proper, returning a few moments later with a box. He rooted around in it, tossing small devices to the side. Finally, he settled on one and slid it across the counter. “Don’t forget to sign for it.”

With that, the man left us alone as he went back into the armory with the box. Ligh Strumgard snatched the device, raising it up to his reflective mask. “Here it ish. The Back End Doorway. Or the BED. The techies whipped thish thing up a while ago, but I completely forgot about it till recently. Here.” He tossed the thing to me.

I lunged forward, barely catching the device. It looked like one of those ancient phones back before touch screens. “Sir?”

”Shign.” Ligh passed me a clipboard from the counter.

I took it, still looking up at him in confusion. I started to sign S- I caught myself and put down Zuku Ichima. “What is this?”

”Just plug it into a terminal or hold it near a phone for it to create a Crusade backdoor. Then one of the nerdsh down in the command center can look through the data and shend it to me.”

Got it. Keep the thing far away from any of my stuff. “Is this legal?” I asked as the Inquisitor walked out the door without the slightest pause in his stride.

Hope laughed from beside me, though her face told a different story. It was entirely drained of all life, hanging limply just like her broken arm. “To be young again.”

”What’s that supposed to mean?” She turned away from me, following after the Inquisitor. “Hey?” I called one last time to no avail.

-- -- --

I returned back to my apartment feeling incredibly uncomfortable with the BED in my pocket. As soon as I stepped in, I made sure the device was off and placed in my kitchenette, the furthest point from all of my stuff. I really didn’t need the thing sending my data to the Crusade. Not that I had anything super incriminating, I think. I hope.

I checked the time, seeing I still had several hours till it was time for bed. With more on my plate than I wanted, I set the recording of Principal Bously to triple time and cranked it up to full blast.

With the sounds of devices beeping and the occasional heavy breathing of the principal as he worked on whatever it was principals worked on acting as background ‘music’, I got to work on some of the other projects I’d been planning for a while.

First and foremost, I took out my scouters. I set one aside to keep as a... trophy? Was that a fitting word for this? Regardless, it felt fitting. I didn’t want to forget where I came from, especially as I worked to improve the model.

The others I disassembled for parts. From there, I made some minor adjustments. It took quite a bit of effort, but I managed to write an extremely simple program to disable the gyro till I manually turned it on. This way would hopefully save battery over just running the gyro the whole time. Unfortunately, that was about the extent of my Net skills, so I couldn’t do anything else in that regard.

I also put in the new batteries, cutting my stock down to three left as I made two new Scouters. With less space and weight from the battery, I could safely cut down how strong the gyro would need to be, so I also managed to shrink that part down.

'Course, with shrinking everything to size, I had to reprint the casing for my Scouters. I set it to print, but it would take a while-

“Sir?” Principle Bously asked, drawing my attention to the audio file. “Whatdoyouneed?”

I skipped back and slowed down the track back to normal. This was the first time I heard anything from the guy of interest. Was he talking to someone higher up in Sentinel?

A phone rang, something I missed the first time around. ”Sir?” Principle Bously asked, this time at a much more understandable rate. He had that same smarmy tone to his voice. Except worse. If it was an eight for me, it was a ten for whoever the guy spoke to. “What do you need?”

A moment passed, and the mic failed to pick up the person on the other line. It was a thrown-together piece of tech after all, so it made sense. ‘Course it wouldn’t be able to pick up everything with clarity.

”Ah, my tests! They go well- no, they won’t interfere with our plans.” Another moment passed, during which the principal audibly gulped. “Yes, sir. Teenagers are already a susceptible sort. It makes it easier to prove my theories. Hopefully, I’ll soon be ready to move on-“

The principal went silent as a door opened. A lady, maybe his assistant, called out, “Principal Bously, the Trouse family is here again about their son.”

“Again?” The guy sighed. “Just stall for a while. I’m on an important phone call.”

”Of course, sir.” The door thunked as it shut.

”Sorry about that. I’ll be ready when The Circle calls for me. If things go according to plan, with some great results too-“ The line beeped several times, cutting him off as the other person hung up. Principal Bously sighed as the sound of shuffling clothes came across. “Gah, I really need to get out soon... maybe Meno will be my way?”

I felt a chill go down my spine as he called ‘my’ name. After that, the principal left. Shortly following, the audio file cut off entirely.

I sat still for a moment, my hands paused mid-motion on my printer. There was certainly a lot packed into that interaction. Based on the way he spoke, it didn’t seem like it was some corporate executive Bously was brown-nosing. Who else would he call sir though?

And he mentioned The Circle. That was one of the two things Inquisitor Ligh asked me to look into if I'm not mistaken. I cut up the audio file, separating the part from the rest of the boring bits. I didn’t immediately send it to the Crusader though, instead just saved it to my phone.

It wasn’t worth the risk of the Inquisitor doing something now that he knew his target. Especially since it would likely screw up the investigation into Quora’s disappearance.

With that audio file down, I shifted over to Tristen’s and got back to work as it played at several times its speed. Most of the file was conversations with me considering he was around me almost the entire time he was in the range of my Deck.

By the time I got through creating my newer and smaller models of Scouters, henceforth known as Scouter 2.0, the file played something interesting. I skipped back and put it down to normal speed.

”My band is here, I’ll be right back.” Tristen said in that narcissistic way of speaking unique to him. I remember the moment from the recording happened while he was showing us some of the other musicians in Sentinel Studios.

“We’ll w-wait here then.” My voice came across as disgustingly sweet and innocent. Did I really sound like that?

The sound of clopping shoes played as Tristen left the room we were in at the time and headed for another. “Remember: best behaviors.” He said, this time his voice sounded oddly normal. The typical self-confident and overindulgent tone was nowhere to be found. Instead, he seemed almost scheming?

A murmur came from the background. It was too low to pick up with my mic.

”Of course it matters! If I can get with Meno, I’ll be able to secure us a seat at a duchy in Pyrus.” Tristen sighed. “Look, sugar daddy Sentinel doesn’t actually care about us. As soon as we graduate or leave his son, he’ll kick us to the curb. This is a good chance to get a more permanent backer! Don’t fuck it up for me.”

He paused, listening to someone before speaking again. “I got this. Just trust in the process. I’ve got my usual look up around her. I just need to slowly melt it away to look vulnerable as if she were melting my prideful heart.”

A question came from the back. It was impossible to hear clearly.

”We agreed not to talk about Marc. I dunno where he went, but he’s obviously left us. So what if he wouldn't approve.” Tristen said.

The rest of the track played out with Tristen arguing for a few minutes before I popped back in. From there, it was much the same with very little of note occurring. It definitely wasn’t as jam-packed as Bously’s recording had been.

Really, there wasn’t much to say from Tristen’s recording. The only thing I could say for certain was he wasn’t as shallow as he acted. He sounded entirely different around his band than when around me. Not that it mattered too much. A facade didn’t mean he necessarily got rid of some people. It just meant I should be more careful around him.

Really, I needed to be more careful in general. The two people I bugged both mentioned targeting 'Meno', which was unsettling. There was no telling what other people around the school thought. Especially with a criminal on the loose already making about a dozen students disappear.

I finished up my projects, tossing the remnant pieces to the side as I shut down my deck. Overall, some interesting conversations. I would definitely have to look deeper into all of this to get a better grasp of what was going on. It was still too early to say.

Unfortunately, it was getting pretty late. Before I went to bed, I tried one last time to get a good design for my calling card. No dice. But I did get an idea I liked. My calling card would have a moon on it somewhere. Heck, it could even be a small model moon. It just needed to have a moon.

Calling cards were made by criminals for one of two reasons: to claim the crime or to mock law enforcement. Why not do both? Having a moon on it was just too good to pass on considering my name.

My eyes were drooping too much to continue though, so I set my sketchpad aside and headed for bed.