Before Parkye could utter a word, Putato covered her mouth again.
Talking to a lunatic like Wym was useless; getting sucked into her rhythm would only make Parkye's condition worse.
"I'm quite fascinated by your smoke," Wym remarked, her eyes tracing the vapor. "It looks like it's seeping directly from your pores. Do you have smoke vents implanted in your lungs?"
SWOOSH!
Holding Parkye tightly, Putato suddenly leaped from the second floor. Out of the corner of his eye, he glimpsed the approaching Sweepers, misshapen figures with glowing crimson liquid-filled tubes strapped to their backs.
The moment he hit the ground, Putato rolled forward, narrowly dodging the paintbrush spear that came whistling down after him.
Anxious to get clear, he sprinted toward the head of the street as the Sweepers swarmed. A long trail of white smoke streaked through the narrow alleyway.
Glancing back, he saw masked figures through the window, Rosedale and Olga. It seemed both Offices were moving fast, their arrival successfully drawing the enemy's fire.
[Move through the Sweeper swarm unharmed.]
Holding the paralyzed, terrified Parkye with one arm, Putato issued his own prescript, mapping out the optimal escape route in his mind.
Seeing no one else in the alley, Putato sheathed his shortened Honesuki and drew the Blood Sword from his back, cleaving an incoming Sweeper in half at the waist.
Hematic Pump!
His accelerated blood flow made Putato's entire body run hot. Dense smoke shrouded him and Parkye, but he could already feel the warning signs of his body redlining under the strain.
The Sweepers were a tide that couldn't be fully stemmed; even as their crimson liquid coated the pavement, they kept coming.
Fortunately, Putato pressed against the wall, only needing to fight off Sweepers from one side. Every swing of his Blood Sword sent ripples through the mist, turning the alley into a city of fog in seconds.
COUGH, COUGH, COUGH!!
An uncontrollable fit of coughing made Putato feel like he was going to hack up his own lungs. He slumped against a wall with Parkye, focus narrowing as he severed a Sweeper's reaching hand.
Leaning on his Blood Sword, Putato suddenly noticed the Sweepers growing quiet. This wave had passed, but the next was already on its way.
After all, the Sweepers' primary duty was to clean; they wouldn't stop for a few "uncollected scraps." Their cleaning KPIs were heavy.
However, Putato couldn't stop coughing. The more he coughed, the more his head throbbed. He finally deactivated his Smoke Mask.
"Don't you run off!"
Standing up and wiping saliva from his mouth, Putato immediately caught Parkye trying to crawl away. He hoisted her up, rounded a corner, and pounded on a door.
Three heavy thumps followed by one light, the signal he'd agreed upon with Mo.
Putato kept a vigilant eye on both ends of the street. He spotted more Sweepers emerging. He was at his limit; another round and he'd drop dead from exhaustion.
"Get in, quick!"
The door swung open, and Putato dragged Parkye inside. He slammed the door shut behind him and finally let out a breath of relief.
Breaking into a home during Night in the Backstreets was a taboo in The City. Even if Wym herself showed up, she couldn't just force her way in.
"Senior, who's this? Is she part of your big job?"
Consta stepped forward to support Putato, then cast a curious glance at the bewildered Parkye. She looked like someone who had just been jolted awake and had no idea how to handle the situation.
"That's right, she's a major contract. You guys have to look after her."
"I've got business once the Night in the Backstreets lift. You stay here until dawn."
As he issued his stern instructions, Putato suddenly realized Mo was missing. Sensing something was off, he settled the frail Parkye at the dining table and asked urgently:
"Where's Mo? She didn't go out, did she?!"
"Not exactly. She's just... scavenging for valuables in here."
"What do you mean? Didn't you guys rent this place?"
"Uh, she thought that was a waste of money. So she just found someone to 'stay' with."
Damn it, so this is just home invasion?!
"Did you kill them?!"
"They're tied up in the bedroom. We're just after the cash; no point in killing. Besides, we didn't bring the organ harvest bags."
Putato turned to see Mo dragging a body bag out of a room, hopping along cheerfully.
"You're done?"
"Leave whatever you took right there. My big contract can't afford any 'accidents'."
"That guy in the bedroom is loaded, why shouldn't we take it?"
The living room fell silent, a tense standoff thick in the air. After a long moment, Mo huffed and dropped the bag, plopping onto the sofa to watch TV.
"You're the boss. Your call."
Putato leaned against the door and closed his eyes. Exhaustion hit him so hard his head lolled, nearly drifting off before he caught himself and propped his weight against the wall.
"Um, Senior."
"What is it, Consta?"
"I just ate some pickles and a sandwich from the kitchen. I threw it all back up, is that okay?"
"Why would you eat it if you were just going to puke it out?"
Is everyone here out of their minds?!
"Because I only have a taste sensor and a simulated oral cavity. I can experience the flavor and the deliciousness, but I have no place to swallow it."
"It's fine, it's fine. I just don't want us looking like common looters."
Arnold, who had just brought a cup of hot coffee from the kitchen, paused. He looked oddly at Putato, then at Parkye, who had clearly been kidnapped.
"But isn't that exactly what you're doing?"
"It's different!"
Mo, leaning over the back of the sofa, flipped Putato two big middle fingers.
"Forget it. We already know his temperament. Whatever he does is 'good,' whatever we do is 'bad'."
"Ignore him. Either way, there's money to be made later."
Damn it!
Putato felt a lot more alert now. He headed into the kitchen and used his communicator to contact Olga, reporting that he had successfully rescued the target.
"What? Vanda, how were you that fast?!"
"Tell me the truth, did your Smiling Faces friend sneak you in early? I spent ages trading 'greetings' with Rosedale and those Ring idiots for nothing!"
"Everyone, fall back, fall back, fall back!"
"I've settled her in a nearby residence. I'm sending you the location. Get your people and wrap up the Commission fast. You'd better credit me big for this one."
"Doing more means getting more, that's simple enough. Feels like I'm riding your coattails this time, Vanda. You could totally handle being a Grade 5 Fixer on your own."
"When this is over, you're buying me a drink. Don't you dare skip out."
Hanging up, Putato let out a long sigh as the Smoke Mask once again shrouded his face.
The Office side was done, but the Syndicate business wasn't. Plus, if possible, it would be better to take out that Maestros Wym through the Smiling Faces to stop her from hurting anyone else.
The chaotic noise outside lasted quite a while before finally settling into silence, signaling the end of Night in the Backstreets.
Putato climbed out a window and stepped onto the clean street, silently impressed by the Sweepers' efficiency and hard work. They were also miserable working folk, after all. He shook off those thoughts and headed back toward the art exhibition.
...
"What?! Wym is dead?!"
Standing in front of an overturned gambling table, Walter was full of questions. He stared in disbelief at the headless corpse before him, then turned to Wang, who was just shrugging.
"The table crushed her. Don't pin this on me."
The absurdity of the scene left Putato dumbfounded. He never expected a Ring Maestro to go down so easily. Was she a fake?
But a second later, the screech of a feedback-prone microphone echoed through the exhibition hall.
"Cough, cough. Hello, everyone. I never imagined my solo exhibition would attract a Smiling Faces parade. It's truly an honor."
Putato warily dispersed the smoke obscuring his vision, staring at the welcoming electronic screen. After a flicker of static, Wym's face appeared.
She seemed to be holding a piece of colorful yellow skin in one hand and a camera in the other. For a split second, Putato felt like he was watching a daily vlog.
"Hey there, everyone. You've really made a mess of my casino. Kokochi, what are you doing just standing there next to a corpse?"
Vigilantly bypassing the Zwei AssociationFixers, Putato regrouped with the main Smiling Faces force. Everyone's eyes were fixed on the Ring apprentice standing beside the headless body of "Wym."
Kokochi scratched his head, standing before the electronic screen. The bizarre scene kept anyone from stepping forward to stop him. The bright lights clearly defined the contours of his abdominal and back muscles.
"Maestros Wym, aren't you supposed to be dead?"
This guy's 'form-fitting' clothes are a bit too effective, aren't they?
Putato suddenly realized that the man's black short-sleeves and even his blue jeans were entirely painted on. Squinting, he finally noticed the barely perceptible color gradients on the thighs and waist. To stand in public wearing nothing but underwear—what a legend!
Even if his body-painting technique was divine, wasn't he freezing in the middle of the night with his bare skin exposed?!
"Oh, please. This is my solo exhibition, and the performer is me, of course. Everything else is just background. We were just discussing when this personality-overwritten 'artwork' would finally realize something was wrong."
"After all, without a Personality Chip for timed correction, a forced personality graft either dissipates within three days or leaves the subject mentally deranged. There is no other outcome."
Maestros Wym spoke as if showing off her exhibition's design. Behind the lens, the hushed whispers of many others could be heard, all being broadcast without reservation.
"Who is that guy? He ruined all the bets on the second floor. I bet that the one named Parkye would absolutely never make it out!"
"Three days would have been plenty for those steel balls to fill that heart. Who knew this savage would trash the whole thing."
"I already took the surveillance screenshots to the Office. They said it was a Syndicate thug named Putato. What a buzzkill."
The crowd on the scene exchanged glances. Even the well-traveled Wang tilted his head while looking at the "Wym" corpse on the floor. This place turned out to be just a casino for amusement, and Wym had even deceived her own apprentice. It was truly absurd.
CLICK.
On the electronic screen, Wym opened a door and strolled leisurely down a hallway, seemingly savoring the crowd's shock and confusion. She slowly instructed Kokochi to clean up the mess himself.
"Smiling Faces, I'll remember you. I'm sure we'll collaborate again. And of course, you too, Putato."
Wym looked down meaningfully, staring straight ahead. Putato, standing off to the side, felt the illusion that she was staring directly at him. He hadn't expected to gain notoriety in such a fashion.
"And Section 6, you're all far too amateur. I thought you'd be enough for a solo exhibition, but you're a bunch of useless hacks."
"Next time, I'd be better off hiring Full-Stop Office."
Hearing this, Walter was absolutely livid. This Commission had been utterly sabotaged by the goddamn Smiling Faces. He glared fiercely at Wang, then his gaze fell on Putato in the back.
Suddenly, his brow furrowed, and he began to scrutinize Putato repeatedly.
"Wang, the parade's over. Aren't you leaving, or are you waiting for Association reinforcements?"
"Putato, you really made a name for yourself today. Let's call it a day here."
Smiling Faces immediately began to withdraw. Walter's eyes turned blood-red as he moved to lead his men to stop them. If he couldn't redeem himself through merit now, this failure would be a massive stain on his record.
Dodging a slash from the Zwei Association'sJulia, Putato spoke up sharply toward Wym on the screen. Even without activating his Hematic Pump, his blood surged with the intensity of his emotions.
Committing all those sickening, malicious acts just for such a meaningless reason!
"You're trash. There is no future collaboration, because even seeing an 'amateur' like you is beneath me!"
"You're a pathetic failure who treats others' agony as a novelty. If it weren't for your twisted gimmick, you'd be nothing but a boring Joker. Don't tell me you're actually proud of your little circus act!"
Everyone watched as Wym, who had been elegant and poised just a moment ago, came to an abrupt halt. Her smile and the corners of her eyes dropped. Her expressionless face leaned into the camera until only her pale blue eyes filled the screen.
"You dare... to judge my art?"
"Putato, isn't it? Your life is down to a single day. I'll prepare a spectacular firework display just for you. Don't be in such a hurry."
"This will usher in a new phase of my creative work. After all, you've trashed more than half of the pieces in my hall."
Wym enunciated every word with chilling clarity, then turned to give a delicate, refined smile. She gave an enigmatic bow to the audience through the screen.
"Honored visitors, please bear witness."
Amidst the resumed melee, only Kokochi felt a shiver run down his spine. Even he didn't know what kind of earth-shattering, horrific act MaestrosWym would pull next. He glanced at the Wym corpse on the floor with lingering dread.
Putato, however, stood frozen as if struck by fear. But it was because of what he had just seen.
The moment Wym bowed, half of a "rabbit ear" had appeared in the background on the right. Putato knew that place all too well!
She was currently near the Rabbit's room!
Everyone knows they will eventually face their end, and Putato was no exception. It was just that his dream of reaching the Pinnacle of The City was still unfulfilled. Therefore, his end wouldn't be today, and the person who died today certainly wouldn't be him!
"Brother Putato, it looks like you really hit a nerve. Even I wouldn't dare provoke her like that."
"I'm afraid Smiling Faces will be remembered now as well."
On the path of their smooth withdrawal, Wang looked at Putato with a mix of surprise and amusement.
Putato paid no mind to the implicit blame. He wanted the credit, but if the boss tried to shift the blame onto him? No way!
"I just saw you drag off that fake Wym corpse. Is that what you've got over your shoulder? How's the meat quality?"
"Haha, it's exactly as you said. The moment the skin is cut, it heals. Since she died so quickly, the cellular activity hasn't dissipated yet. I need to get it into a stasis box immediately."
"This kind of stuff is a rare delicacy. It'll make an incredible sashimi. I just hope the body modifications haven't ruined the flavor."
"I've put so much on the line for Smiling Faces. You wouldn't sell me out because you're scared of the Ring, would you?"
"Heh, look at how you talk. At worst, we'll just head back to Backstreet 23 for a few days to lay low. You think Wym actually dares to pick a fight with the Eight Chefs?"
"I don't think anyone is brave enough to disrupt those chefs' competition. It's actually a good time for you to go reconnect with Chef Yixin."
Seeing Wang's amicable attitude, Putato had a sudden realization. He'd almost forgotten he had a genuine Star of the City backing him; though he had to be careful not to be eaten by the other party.
He wouldn't actually want me to do sales and market expansion for him, would he?
"Then let's part ways here. I need to brief Yixin on the situation. We'll split up now."
"Are you serious? Handling Wym alone is going to be tough. The guys at Gaze Office don't care who's buying intel; someone with cash can pinpoint your location in an instant."
"Look, they even knew the Wym at the exhibition was a fake. You don't think you can hide your tracks from them, do you?"
From behind, Jin was utterly bewildered by Putato's decision to leave the group. He felt Putato was being overconfident. After all, no matter how powerful Yixin was, he was currently in Backstreet 23.
If Putato pinned his hopes on a Chef rushing to the rescue, he'd likely have been turned into fireworks long ago.
Wang cut off Jin's questioning, seemingly possessing a deep understanding of these eccentric Stars of the City.
"Alright, alright. Putato has his own ways. But this time, it was thanks to you that we bagged so many high-quality goods at once, and you drew all of the Ring's attention. I have to show my appreciation."
"In Smiling Faces, we don't care much for formal ranks, but for parades and daily operations, there has to be a hierarchy. Usually, we follow the order: Aristocrat, Priest, Scholar, and Commoner."
Putato looked at Wang with surprise, sensing the reward that was coming. He felt a surge of excitement.
"Putato, I'll let the others know later: you are now a Parade Priest. Though, for daily business, you'll still operate with me."
"Once this batch of goods is sold, you'll get your cut."
Well then. A promotion, but a hollow title. I don't even get a single subordinate.
Fortunately, what Putato looked forward to wasn't the authority granted by the promotion, but the chime of the Work Card.