>>5341939“Large enough to destroy all of FutureLabs’ major computing systems,” you state factually.
“No kidding…” Valjean breathes.
<span class="mu-i">“O kurwa.”</span> Boleski mutters, equally surprised.
“So, what do you say?” You speak up after a beat, wanting an actual answer from Boleski. “We got a deal?”
<span class="mu-i">“Tak– </span>okay. I will help you,” Boleski replies. “But I need also help.”
You’re not quite sure what a guy like Boleski could possibly need help with, but, whatever it is, it’s probably leagues easier than breaking and entering into FutureLabs.
“Alright.” You nod, ready to hear what he has to say and urging him to continue, but, as opposed to speaking, Boleski turns around, shuffling to the other side of the room without so much as a word.
When he returns, he proffers a thick, moleskine journal that, when you grab it to examine it, has visible singe marks across the cover. Moreover, the edges of the pages are covered in a fine dusting of pencil lead, telling you that Boleski filled every last page to the brim. <span class="mu-i">Od taty. Otwórz dla pomoc.</span> The words are written in a near-unintelligible scrawl.
“What do you want me to do with this?” You don’t know why he gave you a book you can’t even read.
“Turn around,” He instructs, and, doing as told, you find an address written in equally-terrible handwriting– an address that isn’t that far away, you come to find as you give it a once-over.
“Oh,” You breathe, realizing what Boleski probably wants from this. “You want me to bring the book to <span class="mu-i">there."</span>
“Yes, give to address.” Boleski repeats with a nod. <span class="mu-i"> Dobrze?”</span>
“Uh, yeah.” You affirm, and again you get baffled everytime the man dips back into his mother-tongue.
>(2/3) 