Chapter One Hundred and Sixty-Eight - Smashed and Grabbed

  I watched with a growing pit in my stomach as the Seraph team barged into my home. The idiots didn't even try the handle. I'd left the door unlocked and everything, were they trying to ruin my deposit?

  There weren't any cameras in my apartment, just the one outside, but it was enough to see their disappointment as they pulled out after clearing the room.

  One of them had stolen one of my energy drinks. Damn. They really had no chill.

  Outside, that C-ranker was waiting by one of the vans and was clearly in contact with the guys inside because he looked upset. Still, the team regrouped, jumped back into their vans, then rode off.

  It looked... like a smash and grab.

  I'd heard of that kind of thing before. When one corp really wanted to grab someone from another, they'd just pull them off the streets. There were mages able to soften someone up. Mind magics were definitely a thing, even if the mere mention of them was taboo as all hell.

  But usually, that kind of thing was done to like, middle managers, or particularly talented experts in a field that a corp wanted. It wasn't normal to do that to a ranker. Even an E-ranker might be able to put up a fight, and D-rankers were generally treated with a ton of respect.

  I don't know what was going on here.

  Their hit was clean, though. If I wasn't able to loop back, by this time I'd be in one of those vans riding off to who knows where. Judging by how they didn't just open fire on me that first time, this wasn't an assassination attempt.

  I worked my jaw, then pulled open a phone app on my augs. I called Luna Corp.

  I was answered by someone on the night rotation, and once I proved my ID, they sent me up the chain one rung. From there, I insisted on talking to Eldur. The man was my squad lead, he was responsible for me.

  He was also not at work at what was still an unreasonable hour of the morning on a Saturday. Oops. Instead, I was put into contact with someone else.

  "Hello. This is Sergeant Guy, how can I help you?"

  "Hey," I said. "I'm from Squad B, Eldur's team. I needed to talk to someone at the corp." Guy wouldn't have been my first or second choice, but he was maybe a distant third. "A team of rankers from Seraph just kicked in my front door and broke in. I had a friend warn me, so I had just left, but I saw them on the apartment CCTV. There were a dozen of them, plus at least one C-ranker. Ernest Glover, from Seraph. A light mage."

  "Are you certain?" Sergeant Guy asked.

  "I have the footage right here," I replied flatly. "I can send it over to a company server whenever. I'm not fucking around here, Guy. Some assholes just kicked in my door and it didn't look like they were Girl Scouts selling cookies."

  Guy grunted. "Got it. I have a few members of my team on standby, we'll go check your place out. Send a copy of the footage to HR. I think we're going to have to kick this up the chain. Seraph never really tried to poach anyone from Luna Corp before. Not like this. When are you coming in?"

  "I think I'm going to stay low for a bit," I replied. "I have some friends in the city that I trust. I'll stay in contact."

  "Okay. Higher-ups might not like that."

  "Sucks," I said. "I'll be in on Monday, maybe. See ya."

  I hung up, then leaned back into the seat I'd been planted in for the last few hours.

  Now what?

  I could Reload, of course, go back to late last night and redo things, but that didn't feel super productive. Instead, I sent another text to Becky and Fran, making sure they were alright. That was something to do but it was hardly a proper next step.

  I stood up, slid my phone away, shoved my laptop into a satchel bag, then picked up Mister Couchtop's crate. Then I headed back down.

  I didn't have much luggage in my apartment, but I had a few bags that were large enough to carry things in. I packed away clothes enough for a week, sniffing a few items before I shoved them away.

  The plan was simple; if I was going to play this out, then I wanted to see what Luna Corp's reaction to Seraph was. There was no point in retaliating until I knew the consequences of not getting my revenge.

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  If Luna Corp stepped up and did something, then that would be that.

  I didn't feel like they would.

  Maybe if I had been working for Luna Corp for a decade, or at least a couple of years, then it would make sense for them to step up and help me, slap Seraph down, start a bit of a fight for my sake...

  But I wasn't even a month into my contract with them. Sure, I was a D-ranker, so they had to believe I was worth something, but it wasn't that much.

  I left out the back, made it to the street, and called an auto-taxi using a pre-paid account. Anyone creative at Seraph could probably trace it down to me, but it would take some effort. Ten minutes later, a cab was pulling to a stop nearby. I climbed into the back, ignored the warnings about having to pay extra for carrying an animal, then ordered the cab across the city.

  It stopped on a quiet street where I had ordered a second one with a second card. This time I rode it just a few blocks over, stopping in front of a familiar fast-food place.

  The guy behind the counter looked at me funny as I stomped past, but he knew better than to comment.

  FULL-AUTO STRANGER-DANGER! Your One Stop Shop For Guns, Gear, And Glory!

  The sign lit up the little courtyard between Plain-Jane's place and the back of the restaurant. It was late enough that the sun was up, but it still wasn't all that bright out. I didn't mind. I came up to the door, then knocked. Then knocked again, louder.

  "Coming, coming," someone grumbled from the other side.

  The door slid open and a barrel was shoved into my face when I opened my mouth to speak. The barrel ran down the length of a combat shotgun with a drum mag, held in the hands of a short woman.

  "You changed your hair," I said.

  Jane blinked. "Just highlights," she said before stifling a yawn. "It's the middle of the night. What's going on?"

  "It's seven thirty," I said.

  "Uh-huh? The middle of my night. Is that a fucking cat?"

  "This is Mister Couchtop," I said.

  "You're not bringing a cat into my shop. It'll get hair all over," she said.

  "He's a British Shorthair," I said. As if that helped anything, but she probably didn't have any idea of just how much shedding Mister Couchtop could do.

  Jane worked her jaw. "What's up?" She lowered the gun, at least, then clicked the safety on. "You look like you're mid-move."

  "I need a place to lay low for... call it three to five days."

  "Find somewhere else?"

  "C'mon," I said. "I can pay."

  Jane stared at me. "I sleep on a futon in the corner. I have a microwave and minifridge as a kitchen and a bathroom so small you can barely fit one person in it. This ain't a house, Beanstalk, it's a shop."

  "I know, but you're one of the only people I can trust," I said.

  "Wow... that's sad."

  I rolled my eyes. "Don't take it that way," I said. "Look, some shit came up, and I need to lay low for a few days and basically get a good idea of what's happening before I can act. It's nothing that'll hurt you."

  "And what do I get out of it, huh?" she asked as she leaned against the doorframe. She was wearing a distractingly loose t-shirt and some boyshorts and nothing else. Being so short and leaning as she was, I couldn't help but stare down her shirt.

  I shook my head. It wasn't the time to be distracted by boobs, dammit.

  "Money?" I tried. "I'll owe you a favour? And... I don't know, maybe if we're sharing that same futon, things might get a little bumpy?"

  Jane snorted. "Yeah, that is kinda tempting. Only with as many knees and elbows as you have, Beanstalk, I might get a little worried."

  "I have an average number of knees and elbows," I replied. "By the way, do you know any good martial artists? And if I showed you a video of some guys in armour with guns, do you think you could help me come up with a plan to mess them up?"

  "Concerning, Beanstalk. Real concerning."

  ***