"Woof! Woof! Huff, huff!"
The burly man, who had just moments ago been standing tall and intimidating, suddenly crouched down beside Kagura, panting expectantly like an eager puppy.
"Uh… wait a second!" Kagura scratched her head awkwardly. "You don't have to act that much like a dog! This is getting weird!"
But she quickly shook off her discomfort, "Whatever. Just tell me how to find this 'Mr. J.'"
"The VIP13 lounge is just a cover," the man responded enthusiastically. "Only those who say the correct passphrase can access the lower-level trading center! Woof!"
"No 'woof!' And stop acting like an actual dog!" Kagura scolded, exasperated.
"You're a huge, muscle-bound guy, not some cute little pup!" Sighing, she got back to the point, "So, can you take me inside? I'd like to see this 'trading center' you're talking about."
The man—who apparently had high enough clearance—tapped his earpiece and spoke into it.
After a short exchange, he nodded at her.
"You're clear. I'll take you down."
Well, that was easier than expected.
As she followed him, Kagura decided to make conversation.
"So, do you have a name, or should I just call you 'Big Scary Guard Guy'?"
"FC," he replied.
"FC?" Hitomi smirked. "Like… a video game console?"
"It's just a codename," FC chuckled.
"I'm a former Marine. I work security for these arms dealers because, well, I've got a wife and kids to feed. That retirement pay doesn't cut it."
"Yeah… life's tough for everyone, huh?" Kagura shrugged.
Not that her life was particularly tough, but it was a decent piece of generic wisdom to throw out.
Whether this FC guy found comfort in it was his business.
Still, FC didn't seem like a bad guy.
Maybe after she wrapped up this mission, she'd erase his brainwashing and even help him land a legitimate job.
A guy with his size and skills could probably make a great security chief somewhere.
"We're here," FC said, pushing open the door to VIP13.
"Like I mentioned, this place is just a front. The real entrance is this way."
Kagura glanced around.
The room was lavish—extravagant couches, glass tables, high-end liquor, and delicately plated hors d'oeuvres.
The air conditioning was on full blast, music played softly in the background, and the vibrant lighting was set just right.
It was a party waiting to happen, except… nobody was here.
"Okay, but why bother setting all this up if it's just a decoy?" Kagura asked. "Seems like a waste."
"It's for the dead."
"…Excuse me?"
FC answered matter-of-factly, "The ones who don't make it back up. This is their last taste of luxury."
Kagura gulped.
…Creepy.
"Anyway, the entrance is through here."
FC walked into the bathroom.
Kagura frowned, "Uh… Are you sure you didn't take a wrong turn?"
"This is the way."
She hesitated before stepping inside, glancing around with an increasingly weirded-out expression.
"You do realize how awkward it is for a guy and a girl to be in the same tiny bathroom together, right?"
FC smirked, "Yeah. But usually, it's just guys."
…
That somehow made it even worse!
Before Kagura could process the implications, FC reached up and traced a symbol onto the mirror.
The room rumbled.
The gravity beneath her feet shifted, making her stomach lurch slightly.
It was an elevator!
"Ahhh, that makes sense," Kagura muttered as she felt herself descending.
'But still… why disguise it as a bathroom? That's so weird!'
With a soft ding, the hidden elevator came to a stop.
FC stepped out first, motioning for Kagura to follow.
"Welcome. Enjoy your business."
Kagura swallowed, took a deep breath, and walked out into—
A massive underground facility.
The room was huge, like some kind of secret bunker.
The lower level was split into two areas.
One side was an office—an enormous desk covered with computers, documents, and various miscellaneous items.
The other side featured a lounge space, furnished with plush sofas and coffee tables—clearly meant for business negotiations.
Everything was top-tier.
The lighting, the furniture, the tech—this place was even nicer than the VIP lounge upstairs.
The upper level, however, was pitch black. Kagura couldn't see what was up there.
Her holographic UI automatically marked 21 armed individuals in the vicinity.
Their threat level: [Moderate.]
"Well, well, well," a voice drawled.
A man reclined on one of the sofas, dressed in a sleek shirt, a cigar between his lips, and sunglasses obscuring his eyes.
He grinned as he took in the sight of Kagura.
"And what do we have here? A young lady who's… clear up top, breezy down below?"
…
What.
Did this guy just call her breezy?!
Kagura's eye twitched.
Her outfit was completely normal, damn it! She just had bare legs—how was that "breezy"?!
Regaining her composure, she forced a neutral tone, "You must be Mr. J?"
The man chuckled, shaking his head.
"Oh no, I'm just J's agent. He doesn't handle transactions personally. My job is to take orders, settle deals, and send people on their way. Nothing more, nothing less."
Kagura tilted her head, "So, I say what I want, name my price, and you make it happen?"
"That's the idea," the agent smirked.
"So, what are you in the market for, sweetheart?"
She smiled back.
"How about an Ark Reactor?"
As she spoke, she whispered a command under her breath.
"Cortana, deploy reconnaissance drones. Full-area scan."
"Command acknowledged," came the AI's response.
Tiny, coin-sized surveillance drones detached from Kagura's smart shoes, silently taking flight.
They slipped between shadows, avoiding detection as they began scanning the entire facility.
Meanwhile, the agent took a long drag of his cigar, then exhaled slowly.
"An Ark Reactor?" he mused.
"Well, well… that's quite the request. The question is… how much are you willing to pay?"