>>6239921>100You wanted to leave earlier, but Garcian insisted on staying in order to give the little brat a piece of his mind when he comes back. He probably isn't, but your brother refuses to listen.
Steel-headed headass. It's better to wait out his moods when he gets like this.
As you think about breaking something that isn't a bottle of beer, someone really weird sprints into the courtyard. Your eyes meet tinted lenses and he stops dead in his tracks.
The horrendously filthy, yet sharply-dressed businessman looks terribly out of place wearing a gas mask in the "Pure White City." It's almost like he's a visitor from another darker, stranger world, or a space alien. When he starts power walking straight towards you, you get your act together and stand up, ready to face whatever challenge he's about to give.
<Heads up, Dan. There's another one.>
What you can only describe as a proper <span class="mu-i">monster</span> rounds the corner. It stands a full head taller than you on its two stumpy legs. Its round body is clad in an dark, body-length robe that goes up to its neck and down to its feet. The claws are huge and three-fingered and its tail is a fused mass of pipes letting out a faint shimmer of heat in the morning light. It tromps behind the silent masked man but stands a few feet away from him, breathing heavily and steadily over his shoulder, its filtered voice sounding like it's wearing a gas mask of its own.
The masked man is still staring at you.
The tension continues growing.
Then he points at you. For a second you think he's going to say something <span class="mu-i">like that little fucking shit from earlier</span>, but he's actually pointing above at... your hat?
BLACKSTAR BANKER (The Dealer is Almost Here - ANEURISM IV Soundtrack)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cpZtWBIFvEwYou look at his hat too and you realize with a start that it's—
"S-Same hat?" You say with growing excitement.
"Same hat!" He confirms with an absolutely ridiculous vibrato filter over his voice. Garcian bursts into laughter.
"Same hat!"
"Same hat!"
This cycles continues for a few minutes. You hear chuckles all the while. <span class="mu-i">God, he sounds like he inhaled an entire Driflim's worth of helium hahaha—</span>
The businessman breaks things off with a grunt. "You look like a fellow street-level entrepreneur. Are you?"
"How'd you know?"
He sniffs deeply. "You've got the aura about you. The smell of the hustle. I can respect that." You're not sure if he's shittalking you or not.
"Dan Smith." You offer your hand and he shakes it. You're a little surprised at how strong the grip is, but you match it in return.
When you place the web between your thumb and fingers against the web of the other guy, that's what makes a handshake firm and confident. A professional's handshake.
Up close he smells like blood and sweat and human filth. <span class="mu-b">This guy's the real deal.</span> Of what, you're not sure yet.
You shake for a little too long before he stops. Your palms come back stained black.
