Chapter 737: Ice Cream.

05 July 2099

Boris snapped awake to the sound of his annoying alarm. He had a long day waiting for him, and so he woke up at 06:00 to ensure that he had all the time he needed to prepare.

Eating a light breakfast -light by his standards-, he hit the gym and spent half an hour on the treadmill, then another hour lifting weights. Working out was never a hobby of his, but he recently found a reason to stick to it.

"Hey Finn! You up yet!?"

"Yeah, what’s up!?"

"Remember to eat something!"

"Got it!"

Watching the boy had become one of his main responsibilities in recent months, so he made sure to check on him every now and then. He also made sure to check the security footage of the hidden wireless camera he had planted near the exit.

’Not today, huh?’

The boy was a genius Diver who mastered an ability that allowed him to move around undetected by tech, so the only way to catch him was to rely on something that didn’t give out signals. He had been going out a lot more frequently, but since he wasn’t hanging out with his surrogate brother, Boris was a little concerned.

’Maybe I should ask Dante to check on him...’

Their red-haired friend seemed to be busy with a lot of things ever since he started his own gang, or he was trying to keep himself busy. Because of that, he had been neglecting a lot of things. Everyone seemed to agree that leaving him alone was the best solution for the time being. Once he has everything sorted out, he will surely make things go back to the way they used to be.

"So it’s today, huh?"

The question came from Viktor. Boris had been with the fixer for more than a decade now. The two of them shared the kind of friendship that can only be obtained from going through a lot of shit together, so today was as important for him as it was for Boris.

"Yup," Boris nodded. "I feel like I’m losing weight just from thinking about it."

"That’s a good thing, isn’t it?" Viktor smirked.

"Not if it’s making me this hungry," Boris replied.

The two shared a laugh, then went their separate ways. Since the big guy was taking the day off, the fixer decided to use that chance to catch up on some sleep. Running the Ghost International Delivery Service had added to his already packed schedule, so he had no choice but to rest whenever the chance presented itself.

Though he still had hours before what would be the most important moment of his life, Boris couldn’t sit still. He called the restaurant to confirm his reservation, checked his suit, his spare suit, and his just-in-case suit, then he went and polished the car he would be using today. Though he could have gone with one of Viktor’s cars, he decided to borrow one of Dante’s instead.

The blue Natsuki was a classic. Not too cheap to be considered worthless, and not too expensive to be considered a show-off. Though plain-looking, it held a certain appeal, especially to people from a certain generation. Boris chose it for the simple reason that it was the car a certain character had used when he proposed to the love of his life.

Nana had spoken very positively about the movie, so Boris intended to use the car to gauge her reaction first before going ahead with his proposal. One might argue that it would ruin the surprise, but Boris believed it would be for the best if both of them had the chance to prepare for the answer she would inevitably give.

As the minutes ticked by, Boris spent most of his day rehearsing what he was going to say during that dinner. He had to ensure it was perfect because he didn’t know what he would do if it turned out any other way.

~[ ]~

The Fifth of July had once been a very important day for the people of the Radmir Union. Dubbed Independence Day, it celebrated the end of the victory of the revolutionaries against the forces of the Empire and the establishment of the Union. For years, it had been celebrated as a part of the creation myth of the greatest country on earth, but as the twenty-first century was about to make its turn, it became clear that people couldn’t care less about it nowadays.

Cultivating a patriotic spirit became increasingly difficult as more people became disillusioned with the country that sucked you dry from the moment you could legally get a job, all while asking you to be grateful for things only a certain glass could hope to access. No one bothered to celebrate the day anymore, and most seemed hostile to the very idea.

Of course, that didn’t stop the propaganda machine from spitting its usual garbage. The parades marched during the day, and the fireworks lit up the sky during the night. The streets were dressed in white, red, and blue, and the countless digital billboards switched to displaying slogans about liberty and freedom.

"Screw your freedom..."

As he watched the same propaganda ad for the thousandth time, a certain man returned his gaze to the crosswalk projected on the road before him, counting the seconds before it changed from red to green. Having arrived just as it was about to turn red, he had been counting the seconds, hoping to confirm that the lights were taking much longer to change than they should.

"3...2...1..."

As it turned out, it took exactly ten seconds for the stripes on the ground to turn from red to yellow, then to green. That meant the delay had been the work of his imagination, and that only helped fuel his anger. He cursed under his breath, then crossed the street, giving little mind to his posture as he hunched his back, both arms in the pockets of his jacket, with a plastic bag hanging from his left wrist.

He followed the sidewalk until he arrived at an alleyway blocked by a metal fence and a simple gate. Looking up at the security cam, he waited until the gate slid aside before passing through and making his way to the back door of the taller building on his left.

"Took you long enough!"

His brows twitched at the very expected greeting. A young girl met him at the door, her arms crossed as she looked up at him with half-lidded eyes. Her pink hair was styled into fluffy pigtails, and her white clothes seemed a tad too fluffy. It should have been clear by now that the cute act wasn’t going to work on him, but he would rather play along than bother arguing with her.

"Now, where is my-"

Before she could ask, he held out the plastic bag toward her.

"Leave some for the rest of us." He said before walking away.

"Yeah, yeah, I’m not gonna steal it, alright?"

Though she said as much, her joyous tone as she fished out an ice cream cup, the art on the side showing that it was strawberry flavored.

"Rajab! Don’t you dare take the lemon!" Someone called from deeper inside the room.

"Nobody is taking that from you!" She shouted back.

The place seemed to be the lounge room of some corporation, but the ones occupying it didn’t look like your typical office workers. A green-haired youth lay down on one of the sofas, his hands occupied by some retro handheld gaming device. In the corner of the room, a dark-skinned woman looked out of the window. The ashtray on the table beside her showed that she was already halfway through her third pack of the day, and it was barely noon.

"I’m done with this shit." The hunchback dropped onto the free couch and immediately lay down. "Next time, I’m ordering drone delivery."

"There won’t be a next time." The green-haired youth said. "We aren’t coming back here once it’s over."

"I’m talking next job."

"Well, you’re allowed to dream."

"Let’s pray for the next job first." The dark-skinned woman said.

Silence fell on the room as no one dared to argue with her. Taking another drag from her cigarette, she blew the white smoke into the air and put it out right after.

"Marimo, how is it?" She asked.

"Nothing changed." The youth replied. "Looks like we’re still on."

"Doesn’t guarantee that he’ll show up, though," Hunshback said.

"Of course it doesn’t. That’s how plans work... or don’t."

"Say, I know it’s a little late but..." Not bothering to finish her sentence, the pink-haired girl put a spoonful of ice cream into her mouth. The taste immediately caused the corners of her mouth to rise.

"We aren’t going to turn back now." Biting another cigarette, the dark-skinned woman raised a small lighter to its tip. "If this doesn’t work out, we’re going after him directly."