The Librarian

Marcus limped out of his apartment, his cane tapping on the ground. The streets of Centari-IV were chaotic, filled with all sorts of sounds and sights, but he tuned them out.

He had a mission: find a weapon and gather information on "The Librarian."

He headed to the black market district, a grimy area where you could find almost anything —for the right price (according to what Alex's memories said) . The first shop he entered was a weapons store. The neon sign flickered above the door as Marcus stepped inside.

The shopkeeper, a burly man with a scar across his face, looked up and smirked. "What can I do for you?" he asked.

"I need a weapon," Marcus said, voice steady. "Something reliable."

The shopkeeper led him to a wall filled with modern blasters and laser pistols. Marcus eyed them with interest but suspected they were out of his price range.

"How much for a blaster?" Marcus asked.

"Too much for you chump, the cheapest blaster is $15,000." the shopkeeper replied, eyeing Marcus's frail frame and disheveled appearance.

Marcus's eyes scanned the room until they settled on an old revolver in a dusty corner. "What about that one?"

The shopkeeper laughed. "That old piece of junk? I was just about to throw it away. A hundred credits, and it's yours."

Marcus counted out ten credits with shaky hands. "I'll take it," he said.

"Bullets?" he asked afterward.

The shopkeeper handed him a small box. "Six bullets left. Good luck finding more; they stopped making those ages ago."

Marcus inspected the revolver. It was heavy, worn, and unreliable, but it was something. "Any recon equipment?"

The shopkeeper offered him an old-looking pair of binoculars. "A thousand credits."

Marcus raised an eyebrow and the man shrugged "It's got holo-zoom and night vision, lowest I can go bud."

Marcus paid and left the shop, silently cursing his lack of funds. He had a weapon now, although far from ideal. But it would have to do.

He made his way to Sector J-9, the location given for "The Librarian." It was an unmarked warehouse, surrounded by piles of junk and scrap metal. He found a spot to observe, taking out his binoculars.

Hours passed with nothing happening.

Occasionally, something ridiculous happened in the streets, like a hover-car accident above or kids chasing each other with improvised laser pointers. It provided momentary distractions but nothing more.

Then, finally, Marcus saw some movement.

A man stepped out of the warehouse. He was thin, wearing a metallic mask, and had an air of intellect. "The Librarian," Marcus assumed.

He quickly smoked a puff of waterleaf and then observed the man.

[The Librarian]

[Strength: 10.]

[Agility: 10.]

[Endurance: 10.]

[Intelligence: 20.]

[Skills: Information gathering, Data Analysis, ???]

[Afflictions: ???]

[Traits: ???.]

[Current Mood: Anxious.]

With skills like those the nickname 'Librarian' seemed to be well earned. It seemed the System could determine this fellow was a nerd just by the way he looked alone.

But why was the man anxious?

Suddenly, another figure appeared—a large man in a trench coat. Marcus recognized him instantly. It was Brick, a henchman of the Black Hoods, the gang to which Marcus owed $1 million.

Before he hadn't had the skill of observation but now he did so Marcus observed Brick too.

[Brick]

[Strength: 70.]

[Agility: 60.]

[Endurance: 88.]

[Intelligence: 30.]

[Skills: Brawling III, ???]

[Afflictions: ???]

[Traits: Intimidation II, ???]

[Current Mood: ???.]

Marcus's stomach twisted. Brick was almost as strong as Mr. Black, if not stronger. And this was just a henchman of the Black Hoods? Who were these people!?

The two men spoke briefly, their conversation too quiet for Marcus to hear. They seemed cordial, even friendly although The Librarian never stopped nodding, as if he was promising something.

Marcus realized with a sinking feeling that 'The Librarian' may in fact be working with the Black Hoods and that killing The Librarian could upset the Black Hoods, making his already precarious situation even worse.

Brick left, leaving The Librarian alone. Marcus considered his options.

Getting involved in this could complicate things beyond repair.

Marcus clenched his fist, his rage bubbling underneath the surface. The indignity of his situation was infuriating. He had been a powerful leader once, a force to be reckoned with in ancient Rome. Now he was reduced to a frail body, lurking in filthy alleyways, owing money to thugs.

His breath came hard and heavy. "No more," he whispered sharply. "I don't have time to waste."

The anger burning behind his eyes fueled his determination. Marcus wasn't just thinking about surviving anymore; he was thinking about how to turn the tables. The Black Hoods, his adversaries, his own frailty—they were all obstacles, but not insurmountable ones.

He needed a plan.

Marcus remembered Brick's appearance and demeanor. The trench coat, the swagger, the way he commanded attention. If he could mimic that...

The plan began to form in his mind. Disguise himself as Brick, get The Librarian to come out on his own. Up close he might be able to intimidate the man or, if it came to it, use that rusty revolver.

Marcus hurried to a second-hand clothing store nearby and bought a large trench coat similar to Brick's, along with a pair of dark sunglasses. It cost him a good chunk of what he had left but he bit his tongue.

He reviewed his reflection in a cracked mirror, chuckling darkly as he adjusted the coat to fit his narrow shoulders.

"This will have to do," he muttered to himself, adopting the intimidating posture he remembered Brick using.

Armed with his disguise and a growing resolve, Marcus made his way back to the unmarked warehouse. His heart pounded in his chest as he approached the intercom.

This was it.

He pressed the button.

A scratchy voice echoed through the speaker. "Who is it?"

"It's Brick," Marcus grunted, trying to mimic the larger man's deep voice. "Open up, I need to talk, forgot something important."

There was a brief pause, then the voice spoke again. "Brick, huh? What's the password?"

Marcus felt a chill run down his spine. He hadn't anticipated passwords. He took a chance. "Bricks and mortar."

The voice laughed. "Cute, but not the password."

Marcus's mind raced. "Fine," he snapped. "How about: If you don't open up the Black Hoods will raze this place to the ground?"

There was a longer pause this time, filled with tension. Marcus waited, feeling sweat trickle down his forehead.

Finally, the voice responded, "Brick's never that witty. What's two plus two?"

Marcus's brain buzzed with frustration. This was ridiculous. "Twenty-two, obviously," he answered dryly.

The speaker was silent.

"Huh, guess it is you. Alright I'll be down in a moment." the voice finally said and Marcus gripped the revolver in his hand tightly under the trench coat.

This was nasty business, best to be done quickly.

Suddenly, the door buzzed open. A short man who was most definitely not the Librarian was standing in the door way his eyes locked on Marcus.

The short man growled, "Ungh, grle."

Marcus's heart skipped a beat as the cold barrel of a rifle made its presence known.

The intercom buzzed again "Now I don't know who you are but I know you're not Brick, Brick's a bit slow but he is very diligent when it comes to Black Hood business. Who are you?"

A cold sweat spread across Marcus's body as he struggled to think of something to say, nothing came out as he stared down the face of the barrel. They hadn't had them in Roman times but he understood the implications well enough from Alex's memories.

The intercom buzzed again "Well I'll figure it out anyway, okay Junk you can kill him."

Marcus's eyes widened as he met Junks face, the small man grinned.

"Ungh." he said grunted and pulled the trigger.