Demands Of The Dead 2

The demands of the dead were hard to reject.

Especially when the demand came from the previous owner of the body you are now using.

I didn't think much of it. Being inside this body. How I've stolen someone's life. How this came to be. Perhaps there is a joke or an accident. A once in a lifetime miracle that made me end up in this parallel world. That doesn't explain the changes in my body. How I could do all of this.

To think of it further gives me such a crisis.

Nonetheless sometimes you just act instead of react. Do instead of wasting your time. At least I like to think that's what I am.

I do not like killing folk.

Not that I won't. But who enjoys that unless you're some psychopath? Thing is that I noticed how I have been following desires lately. From the start when I awoke in this world I was afraid of what may come. And what was I thinking? Doing all these runs. Doing dangerous things and even brawling with folks who have Augmentations and Exo-suits?

Arrogance.

Conceit.

That was one thing that made me act.

Because I have this 'ability' that makes me think that I can do anything. It made me feel like as long as I have this. I can just drive people or fly people for a huge fee. Where did the coward who fucking secluded himself go?

Here he was following steps again.

Pacifica City brings something to me and I'm afraid of it.

If I didn't even ask myself just now. What this body demands and craves. I cannot change who I am. But for a brother. The fellow whose body I own now. I could not refuse no matter how much I hate the thought of it.

My case is rather simple. No, in the end, I got hints from the Solomons who shot me in the head. With that knowledge I got to use my skills without restraint. Tech-savvy was a handy skill. The spyware that I left on Goro's Tower remained. I did not need to steal from Goro's tower with all their assets acquired by someone. But I can make use of their connection to gain info. Took no time for me at all to acquire information on the Lintons.

The Lintons themselves were not the problem. The problem is the man who shot me in the head. The truth is rather so simple sometimes that it could make you twist your head in confusion. The Old Nikolai simply died because he was in the docks during the time the Lintons were doing something. The bullet missed my head. But I got a theory that it wasn't simple. At that moment. At that time. My ability awakened and the shock from the bullet caused me to be here. You know how when you get shot in some games there is only a blood spot that appears momentarily or your character gets scars. The scar on the right side of my head is not so visible because of my hair. Nonetheless, it did not go away either and I believe it's still there because the bullet did enter, but it grazed the moment my ability was awakened by the danger.

The one who shot me was easily found by me. He was just a goon who got ordered to take care of a witness. He is not even truly scum or overly evil to the point that it makes it justified for me to kill him. That I would not feel any remorse for doing so. It wasn't so convenient that he alone would be evil. Hell, the records I found showed that there is nothing so evil about him. It was nothing personal. And to the fucking Lintons?

Nikolai Orlov was a collateral damage. Thing is that the fucker who was with me that day drowned in the river. I survived, and hell, from the information I gathered from using the spyware I planted on Goro's Tower. It seems like they thought of me as no one at all. Not a threat that they'd even bother to fucking kill time for it.

It was not personal.

The man himself who did the fucking job of executing me didn't give half a shit. He partied and probably did some whoring after the job. I feel like a fool for even thinking of it and the demand of the dead remains.

I tried digging more. His name. His family. The people who just felt wronged about him. If anything Ardo Lisay was nothing more than just another thug no matter how I thought of it.

I want to kill for righteousness.

To think that I did the right thing and no one would blame me for it. He's hired a killer. A murderer and so on.

And yet as I found out more about the information of this body's killer. I came to conclude that there was nothing special about his case. He was like among many, ordered to take care of business.

Nevertheless, the dead demanded me to take care of him. Seek justice for me. That bit of consciousness persuades me endlessly to do what is right. I shouldn't have asked myself and woken up that consciousness. Maybe I'd still be fucking drowned in my own arrogance and self-confidence that I can do anything related to driving and piloting. I guess seeing Katherine and realizing that I was torn by these unknown feelings made me want to seek justice for the person who died and was replaced.

It's like this feeling you can't just scratch away.

This dreadful feeling reminds me endlessly that I must seek justice no matter what I think of what happened or should I care. Yet I know now that I must do it for the sake of my soul not feeling awful at not being able to do things right for the previous owner of this body.

Ardo Lisay lived doing rackets and runs for the Lintons. Observed him from a distance and followed him. He didn't react to my presence. How could he when I'm wearing Morgan's full gear? Not to mention I wasn't allowing myself to be seen or heard.

He did his run pretty neatly. He is careful and from the looks of it. Is experienced in what to expect from those runs.

He rode a black sedan. His partner in crime was not with him.

Made it easy for me to follow him with my hook-bracer. COuld have used my motorcycle but I didn't want to risk it being identified. If they catch a glimpse of my outfit they'd think that it was nothing more than Morgan doing his thing.

Ardo Lisay stops at a fast-food joint. He orders a burger and fries set. He spent time in the fast-food joints. The guy has the eyes of a dead fish. He ates while not caring how grease is in his hands.

He exited the joint and drove his sedan to another place. It was quite easy to follow this bastard from the roofs. Pacifica is congested. Its buildings are always close to each other and because of it. I could follow this bastard where he wants to go. He went to the Eastbrooks where he picked up a package.

I could fire a round and be done with this. He won't even know that he'd die if I do. Thing is that I need him to complete his runs for the day so that he won't bother the Lintons.

I waited patiently. From morning to noon. Then finally in the afternoon where he started to slow down. Following this bastard made me identify many locations where the Lintons operate. I also saw Danton supervising one of the camps. If it wasn't for the tech-savvy skill and the info from Goro's database. I would have not known where they operated.

I didn't record more than I needed to. I only followed Ardo Lisay to where he might go. I saw that after he got himself checked. He messed around the compound of the Lintons. The Lintons themselves were composed of many sub-groups working in many different businesses of the city. From small shops to giant stores. They specialize in construction and materials. Their compound is heavily guarded. They installed many sensors and alarms that made me wonder who else other than me could infiltrate it. Anyone with a cloaking tech could probably enter here, but would trip up the sensors. I could manage because of my radar ability which shows these traps and highlights them. The redder they are, the more dangerous they are. It's hard to notice them so I was thankful for my ability to detect them.

It was nearly night when Ardo Lisay decided to leave the compound with three people with him. He took them to a bar where they drank and brought girls to entertain them. It was clear what they do everyday.

Afterwards they spent six hours in a club. The three left the club while tipsy. Ardo Lisay drove them to their apartments and then went back home. His home was in Brooks surprisingly and it was quite decent.

Arriving in the apartment of his. He crashes down on his couch. He kneaded his head as if irritated and injected this syringe in his arm. He then rubs his right eye as if irritated and then stares blankly, clearly high.

Nikolai Orlov died because of this man.

He died because of this fucker.

A fucker who only did his job.

Looking at this sight.

I didn't even have the thought of pretending that I wasn't here. I made no care if I was detected and yet the fucker didn't notice me at all. I thought to myself if I should cross the line for fuckers like him. Shed blood for a guy who clearly has no care of his surroundings.

It sickens me. I wanted to go home and forget about it. It feels so stupid doing so and yet the dead man inside of me demands of it. It demands me to avenge him, and seeing that it will tear me apart inside if I don't. I checked the pistol that Ardo Lisay placed in his drawer and checked the rounds.

It is a nine-millimeter pistol with ten rounds. I cocked the pistol and pointed it on his head. He stares at me as if I was death coming. Ardo Lisay didn't scream. He didn't react so violently. He did not even fear death. He just stared back at me as if it was all over for him.

I pulled the trigger and the shot echoed throughout the apartment. The bullet cleanly went through his glabella and then went out of the back of his head. There was a perfect red hole in his temple and his eyes froze in shock.

The noise was loud enough that I saw the lights from the other apartments lit up. There was no need for any speeches.

Any conversation that would make me understand what he did.

I was out here to seek justice and fulfill the demands of the dead.

Ardo Lisay fell on the floor with a quiet wet thud. I stared at his pistol and then read the engravings written on the slide of his pistol.

"Vengeance is mine, I shall repay."

The pistol itself is engraved with silver baroque linings. With skull and bones custom grip and a blackened barrel. It is a gun he customizes for himself. It is a well-maintained gun with the grip somewhat being worn out. The consciousness deep inside me stares at the pistol as well.

It felt empty. It felt nothing other than confusion to where the satisfaction was. I placed the pistol in his right hand and then opened his window. I pointed at my hook-bracer at the roof of the building and zipped out of the apartment.

With Ardo Lisay dead.

The consciousness that was demanding me to seek justice became silent.

It was time to leave this place.