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Ah, sponsorships, a free source of capital. Well, 'free,' as long as you're willing to subject yourself to the whims of shadowy organizations.
Most of them are pretty reasonable this time around. UED's sponsorship is basically telling you to focus exclusively on anomalies, sure, but that's how you make money anyways. Easy choice.
FEASTS? That one is going to suck. They're asking you to financially castrate yourself with the amount of samples they're asking for. At least the deadline's lenient; you can chip away at that over time.
BLACKWELL? You have no reason why they're so keen on keeping an eye on you. Your notable achievements start and end at 'successfully farming mold' and 'killing a psychotic mutant freak with a metal stick.' It IS a lot of money, though.
Could it be your ties to <span class="mu-b">the Man</span> and/or <span class="mu-r">the Heart</span>? You're the only one who can see the <span class="mu-b">Man</span> while the <span class="mu-r">Heart</span>...
From what little you've seen of the <span class="mu-r">Heart</span>, it seems keenly interested in you. Maybe that's part of the reason?
Whatever. The only one you're not picking is ISOLA. If they're actively paying you to work on a high risk anomaly, they probably expect it to maul you to pieces by the end of the day. Pass.
>FEASTS, U.E.D and BLACKWELL sponsorships are now active!
"Eugh." You groan out in pain. Your head's still pounding after Miss Lil' Caspy's meltdown. "Ed. Got any better booze?" You shake the flask he gave you. "This stuff sucks."
"C'mon, Vincent." Edward clicks his tongue. "You need to treat ZH-Corp branded Swill with the respect it deserves."
"I'm impressed you're able to drink this." You find yourself taking another sip from the flask. This isn't even rotgut at this point. It tastes like watered-down rubbing alcohol.
"It's an acquired taste for sophisticated gentlemen like me." Edward smiles wryly.
"If by 'sophisticated,' you mean 'functional alcoholic,' sure." You roll your eyes. "I'll give you good luck or somethin' if you give me something good."
"Please?" You shake the flask for emphasis.
>1 SUCCESS: CRIT BOOSTED!
"Sure, sure. Just because we're SUCH good friends, I'll do you a favor." Edward reaches down to grab something from his belt. As he pulls his hand back up, you see what he grabbed. It's a mini, travel-sized vodka bottle. "Flask, please."
You hand the flask back. He pops open the bottle and pours about a third of the contents into the flask. "Normally, they say not to mix alcohol, but consider this my little treat."
"You can drink the whole thing, go ahead."
He slides the flask back over. Without saying a word, you take another swig from the flask. It. It tastes.
It tastes <span class="mu-i">amazing.</span> You're not sure what black magic or arcane science was used to make that vodka but the tiny amount he used? It salvaged this whole thing.
You empty the whole flask in less than a minute. You carefully place the flask down on the table as if it were made out of glass. Hoo. This is definitely going to help.
