Urban Camper

I finish vigorously brushing my teeth and give my mouth a good gargle. I then open the wash basin's tap to full blast and scrub my face down, savoring the cool sensation of the water splashing over my skin. I had taken a big dump earlier, so my morning ritual is just about done. Cracking my stiff neck, I dry myself off with the ream of toilet roll provided in the hotel's washroom before heading back out to the lobby of the Imperial Regency.

A mid range hotel located in the Red Perch Cape District that's popular with business travelers, the Imperial Regency's lobby would be best described as grand and bland. Marble floors, wood paneling and an unobtrusive check in counter. This ensemble is dominated by a tacky crystal chandelier hanging precariously from the ceiling. I wonder if that thing ever fell on anyone? It would be pretty embarrassing for the management if that happened. As I walk past the liveried staff while thinking idle thoughts, the doorman at the entrance gives me a dirty look as he opens the door for me with a shooing motion.

I pay the doorman no mind as I stride out into the street towards a black SUV parked by the side of the street. Opening the driver's side door, I climb into the vehicle and work my way to the rear, where the seats have been folded away to make space for a sleeping bag. A familiar lap top is set up next to the sleeping bag and the windows have been heavily tinted, ensuring that no one can look in. The SUV's engine fires up without any prompting from me and it smoothly drives off, joining the early morning traffic.

"You seem rather nonplussed this morning Transmigrator." The Voice observes as it rasps from the SUV's radio, "I thought that you would be delighted at the upgrade I have arranged for your mode of conveyance."

"I didn't expect that I would be living in it though. Like some kind of car hobo." I remark sarcastically, "The more I work for you, the more I rise in the world."

The Voice sniffs at my comment, "Pearls before swine. This SUV is a mobile place of power, allowing me to both repair your body on the move and perform deployments at short notice. You have spent the last few days sleeping here without any issue. I see no reason for you to complain now."

After I parted ways with Hernandez at the SOPO HQ, I found this black SUV waiting for me by the side of the road, its passenger door swinging wide open the moment I approached. Quickly taking the hint, I crawled inside and collapsed on to the sleeping bag, finally succumbing to the stress of the past few days. Time passed in a haze while I alternated between deep sleep and brief, bleary waking moments.

You can guess how thrilled I was when The Voice told me to go clean myself up in the Regency's public washroom on the first day of my complete recovery from the previous misadventure.

"Why didn't you just book me a room in the hotel?" I grumble, "Didn't know gods were so tight with money these days."

The Voice rumbles, "For your safety, Transmigrator. Look at this."

The laptop flickers to life and shows aerial surveillance footage of Six Trees Hills, the location of my previous hideout. I don't notice anything unusual, but The Voice highlights several random people that are wandering around the area or just basically hanging out. The laptop then begins to show footage taken from the park where I enjoyed to chill out at. Once again, the Voice begins highlighting a bunch of randos that are just going about their business.

A new window on the laptop's screen opens, showing an overhead view of the abandoned store I had been using in the Dreaming Spires District. Several pedestrians that are passing by the store are painted an angry red on the screen.

"All the highlighted men and women are recent arrivals from Neo-Cardiff." The Voice says, "It was an easy matter for me to match their faces to the passports they used to pass through immigration. All these unrelated individuals have opted to spend their time lounging around spots where you have been known to show up at. What does that tell you, Transmigrator?"

"Shit." I exclaim before I can get a handle on my shock, "Its Gallant's family. They're sweeping the locations of where all the hideouts are located."

"Indeed." The Voice confirms, "While Siobahn's men have not managed to locate my places of power, they have nevertheless made actually using those locations thoroughly impractical. You would be quickly discovered and no doubt attacked."

"I can handle a couple of flatfoots." I rebut, "Anyone who spots me wouldn't be making it back to report to Siobahn."

The laptop then switches to a feed from an aerial drone patrolling a grassy field. And in the field is a massive assembly of humans and angels going through combat drills, all the while presided over a figure I instantly recognize.

Chance.

"Based on what I have gathered from intercepted communications," The Voice rasps, "Every single one of those men and women have been tasked with your capture. Even discounting the presence of Master Chance, how do you fancy your chances against that pack?"

My face pales at the realization of how much trouble I am in. Siobahn is really pulling out all the stops this time. I don't think I can talk my way out of a confrontation the next time we meet. No wonder The Voice wanted a mobile base. But that still doesn't answer a question that has been nagging at me.

"I recall that Siobahn stays at Red Perch Cape as well." I query, "Why are we roaming around this district then?"

The Voice answers, "The safest place for you would be under her nose. Siobahn believes that you would have retreated to either Six Trees or the Dreaming Spires. This mistaken belief has allowed us to camp here unmolested for the past few days."

As if to drive this point home, the SUV makes a turn and heads down a wide two way road that has a large public field located to the right. And sure enough, I see Siobahn's band of muscle drilling under Chance's watch as the SUV drives past the field, with no one the wiser. Damn, there seem to be a lot more of them when you're at street level.

"We going to deal with them?" I ask, narrowing my eyes, "What firepower have you prepared?"

"Its too late for that." The Voice regretfully informs, "The window to handle the threat Siobahn poses has closed. We can only attempt to evade the blow that is to come."

"What!" I exclaim, "How come?"

The Voice explains, "Your capture by Archmage Naiberg had cost us too much time. That time has allowed Fate to stabilize the thread that Siobahn is moving down on. While we are not doomed because of this development, we must be ready to handle any complications that may arise."

"Wonderful." I groan, "Anything else happen while I was playing sleeping beauty?"

"There is good news and bad news." The Voice informs, "Which do you want to hear first?"

"Good news please." I moan, "Spare my heart a little."

The Voice rumbles, "Not just good news, but very good news. Transmigrator, I am pleased to report that we have generated a critical amount of instability. While not enough to destroy the doom path that we are on, readings from the Crossroads indicate that the black site is now vulnerable to attack. I have begun to draw up a plan for the assault."

"And taking out the black site derails the doom path?" I press.

"Yes, most certainly." The Voice confirms, "We are at the end of the tunnel. Just a bit more effort on our part and Fate's little scheme against us will be relegated to the proverbial trashcan."

"Alright. Cool." I nod, "And the bad news?"

"Inspector Scott has disappeared." The Voice relates, "After you had allowed her to flee from the SOPO Headquarters, she began to drift aimlessly throughout The City, but in general she was moving gradually towards the Academy. Half an hour ago, I lost track of her. It is as if she had suddenly turned invisible. Most odd."

Yeah. The whole thing at SOPO HQ was just weird. Before I could start to menace Big Tits with the gun or threaten to hurt her boss, Big Tits just walked past me, completely ignoring everything that was going on around her. Real anti-climatic, but it made my escape easier so I didn't think much about it at the time.

"That doesn't sound too bad." I comment, "Big Tits can handle herself."

"Unfortunately, there is more bad news." The Voice grimly states.

Oh?

"The Hero has been kidnapped."