>>5168617>>5168629>>5168630>STARE AT YOUR REFLECTION.>THEN SHANK THE BITCH.Suddenly stricken with vanity, you turn to face your reflection in a large section of polished chrome wall nearby. Although a bit distorted from the metal’s dents and scratches, the image of you is just about how you remember it; you make a face, she makes a face back. You continue doing this for nearly a minute, before you start to get sick of her and pull out one of your LOVELY KNIVES.
Your reflection, naturally, has the same idea and draws one of her own. Though you have prepared for this in the past, you are relatively well-matched and the ensuing struggle continues for quite a while before your reflection finally surrenders. In exchange for her life, she offers her SANDWICH COUPON, which you accept. It is, however, printed in reverse.
With two (?) sandwich coupons, you could certainly eat for a while; but the sooner you got around to killing this BAZAAR MASTER, the less likely it was that some other killer-for-hire would do the job before you. You were at the bazaar, you had arrived here in fact, now you simply had the undertaking of finding its master.
Heedsnog was layers upon layers of old chrome buildings and the service tunnels that ran between them, overgrown with both natural flora and ramshackle huts. The bazaar took up one otherwise bare muddy patch within the city’s limits; the law was loose, but people were much more likely to dole out punishments themselves. Between the nonstop bustling crowd, and the shacks and tents offering goods and services, SOMEONE HERE had to know where you could find the bazaar master.
>THE STARRY-EYED TELEPATH WITH A CRIMINAL LOOK ON HIS FACE.>THE POLYMEROUS STRANGER SHARPENING KNIVES USING A STRANGE CONTRAPTION.>THE CLERGYMEN OFFERING BLESSINGS OF LUCK AND FORTUNE.>THE SANDWICH VENDOR YOU WANT YOUR SANDWICH NOW NOW NOWNOWNOW. 