A criminal's guide to evading the law in Westbrook, written by an anonymous author on AbyssNet Forum: Blacklist.

[Alright, you chumps, you want to sling drugs or murder someone. I gotchu cuz. Thankfully, Westcrook might be one of the only places in the world where this shit's borderline legal. And I say that cus half of the damn police don't care if they get they money out of it. Everyone's desperate in the city, natural disasters of both the earthen and man-eating variant have left us poor, overpopulated, and vulnerable. So, here's my list of tips.

One: Scrub your Sigil, or hell, get a new one if you can. That's the only way low-ranking Investigators will be able to identify you. As for the higher ranks, their tech's more complex, so bribe them or their bosses. You need money to make money.

Two: Do not kill anyone in the police, that will put pressure on you that your pig pals might not be able to relieve.

Three: Make friends with a big gang, and I'm not talking small chumps like Interflame or Snake Fangs. Crimson Souls, Muramasa, Los Diablos, or Metal Heavens; they have the connections, so connect with them.

Four: Lay low after your crime until your case is dropped. It's unlikely someone else will pick it up.

Five: If it is picked up, it's either some new recruit who wants to climb the ranks with their naivety, or Special Intelligence Operations. If it's the latter…

Six: Run. SIO operatives are effectively judge, jury, and executioner. Their salary is high enough that they might actually do their damn job too, so bribery won't cut it. Not unless you got millions in your pocket.

Seven: Learn the damn Precincts and which regions they cover. Some are less funded than others, and depending on the nature of your crime, it's easier to do them in specific Precincts than others. Here's a summary.

First Precinct [Pleasure Lanes (Great Lake Lanes) / Little Requiem]: The great mama of police activity, everything in Westcrook is coordinated from this Precinct. Formerly run by Jacob Grazhe and now by Anabelle Grazhe, things have gotten weirder with his daughter running the place. Her father used to keep the peace, even when Little Requiem fell. But with his death has come a chaotic spiral where neither the police nor the gangs are in control. A good place to commit murder, and equally good to get murdered. Oftentimes with no reason. Little Requiem might be open to anyone, but make no mistake, it's a foot into hell. So make sure you can handle the heat — or you will die.

Second Precinct [Yezuha Hills]: Run by Yuzhou's puppet of a Lieutenant, Raichi Kurosawa. This Precinct is a big corporate playground for them to do their business, though that didn't stop one hell of a raid from happening two weeks ago there. But the R0N1N's the very reason why you shouldn't commit crime there, it'll be your execution.

Third Precinct [Bolivar Gardens]: Now you're in SynTec's Southen territory, their mascot Oliver Simons is a joke of a lieutenant. Bigger nepo baby than even Annabelle Grazhe. If you know good money laundering, or want something shipped off-city then this is your place. Just have someone get you in.

Fourth Precinct [New Houston Yards]: One of the border regions of Westcrook with Yellowstone, it's run by a dysfunctional unit held by a warlord calling herself Lieutenant Riley Ponsky. She probably commits more crimes than the pisspot of small gangs constantly warring in the area. Though, it's all a proxy war or smn, I dunno, don't care. Good place for people to go missing though.

Fifth Precinct [Saint Yorinobu]: Can't even say a damn Lieutenant runs this place, cus Rabia Amman is held by the throat by Crimson Souls and their Fingers. This is their territory, and they have a whole cesspool of rules there, you can read more about it on my blog. Just know that this place is good for getting shipments out of the city if you can get a Nomad tribe on your side, and for transporting goods between here and Yellowstone if you can pay the price for a little river transport. Oh, and they have a bangin' Shard Operator in a gym!

[Click more for information about Precincts 6 through 9]]

2:39 PM October 13th

Diana

Belle sat into my car like he'd stepped into trash. "What the hell is this? You have a First-Rank's salary and you ride a piece like… this?"

It was one of Dryder's customized vehicles he sold to me for a lowball price… it was functional, but not very aesthetically pleasing. "My old car crashed, this was the quickest replacement I could get. It's secondhand."

"What, no insurance payout?" He tapped some scab-like formation on the leather, almost belching at its stiffness.

"Nope." I'd tried, but unfortunately, my company wasn't accepting spontaneous combustion caused by criminals seeking my bounty. Not that I told them that much anyway. "Who cares, it's fast."

"I don't see it." The Special Investigator looked through every nook and cranny, seemingly growing more and more disgusted with each further look.

I revved the car and promptly proved him wrong.

———

A four-hour drive was cut in two-thirds, and Belle had threatened me multiple times to give me a speeding ticket. Or prayed that some other officer would, because he was frankly afraid of his life.

New Houstan Yards was located along the northern borders of Westcrook, far above the great lake that the Pleasure Lanes were built around. Apparently, in the Old World, the Lanes used to be called Salt Lake City, which was kind of lazy when I thought about it.

It would have been quicker to get to New Houstan Yards by monorail, especially since, as a First Rank Investigator, I had access to their executive-class rail system, which ran on Silver-Grade engines. But New Houstan Yards wasn't exactly the most developed region, so it didn't have a direct rail station. Being closer to Yellowstone, the earthquake had hit it hard and, like all regions affected by the natural disaster, had become a breeding ground of crime.

In a place like that, having a car capable of stopping bullet fire was better than trusting an old rental. The Yards were under the eye of the Fourth Precinct, and they knew we were coming over.

Being in a Special Operations branch meant we had jurisdiction to act through all of Westcrook, beyond just the fifteen million people under the First Precinct. We were free to choose the jobs others didn't want.

Corporal Lopez had been sure to tell me that, regardless of my status as a First-Rank, Associate Special Investigator, they didn't take kindly to outsiders who wanted a piece of their pie. And likely, some members would be involved in the criminal activity and could try to hold our investigation back.

As we entered the region of New Houston Yards, it was different from how the pictures on the Net described it. They talked about a flowing river cutting through the settlement, tall and wide complexes housing thousands of happy civilians who built this place as a remembrance of a city still claimed by the MAL.

I wasn't surprised to see that it was nothing like that. Factory buildings of various corporations piled smoke and dust into the air. The buildings were run down, concrete and paint chipping away, and holographic graffiti poured on every wall, some markings indicating gang territory. One, in particular, was most common. A blue tiger made of metal.

The few policemen scattered about were rougher, more jaded, and stoic compared to those of the First Precinct. Children played in abandoned parking lots beside smoking heaps of trash-fire, almost every adult openly carried a gun, while homeless and drug addicts were gathered around in every hidden alleyway. The general atmosphere of the town was… tense.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

The Pleasure Lanes and its surrounding areas were also riddled with crime, but there, the money drizzled down from high up, from the rich who came to enjoy a world where they believed they were supreme. Here, it was pilfered from those at their lowest.

"Place hasn't changed a damn scrap." Belle sighed, his eyes darting as we passed a corner familiar to him and he pointed at a building which made a poor attempt to look 'normal' in this shithole. "Used to go to that school over there."

"The Corporal said you had family here… I didn't know this is where you grew up." I glanced at the man.

"Hard to believe it, I know. There was a time when I… was real close to being one of these guys on the streets. You know my Mutation?"

I'd read all their files, especially the SIM Adapters. "You can accelerate and modify plant growth with your blood."

"That's the gist of it, there was a guy around here who called himself a 'gardener'. Just a sorry excuse for an old man who grew whatever psychotic drugs he could in his basement, never hurt me, but damn… I was making a killing selling my blood to him."

I held myself back from asking more, but Belle still felt the need to talk.

"Turns out it was more potent than I thought. Caused the damn spores to overdose him, he lived, but he was never the same after that. That was around the time I left the place. Was just fifteen."

He stared into the derelict streets, and despite how terrible everything was, there was a sentiment in his eyes. That feeling of missing something terrible, because you'd grown so comfortable with the horrors.

I'd known it when I left the Cradle, maybe even when I left my real father.

"Who's your family here?" I let out, knowing that I was leaving an option for a wound to grow.

"My aunt. Tried to get her to come by the First, but she's a stubborn woman. I got that from her. She's a school teacher, a good one at that, if I didn't have someone like her teaching me then I wouldn't be off better than any of these shitheads."

I chuckled, but then he had a strange look of both amusement and offense. "For the record, Ulrich, only I can call these people shitheads."

"Well. You are one of them." I let it out so casually, I hadn't even had the moment to consider that I-.

I couldn't let myself make new friends. New people to care about.

To lose to Soul Killer.

I stiffened even as he held back his laughter. "So you got a mouth on you, after all, huh?"

In silence, I begged myself to forget about the pain in my heart. To focus.

I'd lost Yvette. I'd lost Anthony… I'd caused too many people to lose someone close to them. No more. So I shifted the conversation over to the case. "These orphanages, you familiar with them?"

"Only one. Had a childhood friend grow up there, I think he works in it actually. Lost touch a few years ago, when I was a Second Rank." Belle had a conflicted look on him. "Haven't been here in ages."

"Well…" I took a deep breath as I entered a deep tunnel, a scan of red light verifying our identities in the police force. "…let's keep it short."

———

Having Belle as my partner on the case turned out to be a very good decision of the Corporal. He was an easy man to get along with, a casual charm that worked on anyone from those who begged for money to those who wouldn't spare a dime of their millions. And his familiarity with the area removed a part of that outsider effect the Corporal warned us about.

The downside was that now everyone thought he was leading the case, which would sting me under normal circumstances. Credit didn't matter; I was here for reasons beyond that, I told myself. There was no denying that my being ignored and his casual query on his favorite bagel place a decade ago, leading to him getting police gossip, were grating on my nerves.

"You're kidding me? Little Joshua Brogins married a smokeshow like her?!" Belle's mouth was wide open, looking at some pictures on a corporal's laptop.

"You're one to talk." A corporal whispered just a little too loud for my liking. "Hardly expected Victoria's brat to walk into our office with… her."

Yeah, there was another reason why I was everyone's greatest attention—and fear. At first, I was simply an above-average-looking woman in a job where stress runs high and you're looking to relieve it. Now, I was the daughter of Brian Ulrich, a recipient of a Gold Implant, outranking even my Lieutenant in Grade. I was pretty much a celebrity to the police, and I being here only spelled danger for them.

I attracted attention, which was normal for me. But lately, it was a lot of even worse attention, something these officers were wise to recognize. Especially if they were in the wrong crowd. It was a good thing my several million Shardyne bounty had been removed through some magical act of my father's, but the Gold in my head couldn't be erased so easily.

"Does she always have a resting bitch face?" I heard another Investigator whisper to Belle while I was doing nothing but scouring some of the files he'd sent over to me.

This was a bit unfair. I closed the screen of text and decided to take a more proactive role. First, I headed to a nearby archivist who was busy typing away.

"Hello there, I'm First Investigator-"

"What do you fucking-" Her eyes met mine, and they seemed to shrink with that oh-so-familiar glance of recognition I was getting nowadays wherever I went in the police force. "O-oh… what did you want… Miss Ulrich?"

"Files regarding the missing children's cases."

"The recent ones?" She asked with a nervous laugh.

My eyes narrowed. "How many are there?"

A raspy voice answered from my side, an eyepatch-wearing woman in a decorated uniform staring at me with her cold stare. "There are as many as there are children running away from home here. So… a lot."

I confidently raised my hand in salute, finally. Someone who didn't fear me or want to flirt with me. "It's nice to meet you, Lieutenant Ponsky."

"I wish I could say that I regurgitate that sentiment, but in case you can't tell, you're distractin' my people." The Lieutenant folded her arms, her hair was buzzed short, and pure black marbles took refuge in her eye-sockets — like a void devouring all it captured in their reflection. "And I see you brought over a family man here. First Investigator Rockfel, can I ask you and Associate Ulrich to follow me?"

Belle 'Vineyard' Rockfel got off from his chat with some Investigator, nodding ahead and following into the Lieutenant's office. Unlike the high-rise towers of our District, Lieutenant Riley Ponsky dwelled deep within the matrix of the labyrinthine bunker for the Fourth Precinct.

They didn't even have separate buildings for their various departments; it was all one massive jumbled mess. I couldn't say I blamed them. No one wanted to admit to a lost cause, but they still needed some form of security in New Houston Yards.

They had a fourth of our funding, and a sixth of our manpower.

Deep within her windowless room, the Lieutenant sat us down as she lit her cigarette, staring at both of us with annoyance scowling upon her. "This case of yours ain't goin' anywhere. Missing kids… It's a shame, I'll admit it, but more likely than not, they're missing cuz that's what they want."

"I getchu." Belle reclined his seat. "I'll give it to you straight, Diana here signed her name up on the case just so I could get some nice spare vacation time back home."

I blinked. What?

"Is that so?" The Lieutenant sighed her smoke out. "Because I'll have you know, a damn Gold in this town's gonna cause chaos. Stupid of her to even come here."

Her eyes focused on me like a sniper's scope. "Ulrich, you might be a hotshot where you come from. But this place ain't a palace, don't think you're-"

"Falling down to Earth?" I completed, unable to quell the fire within me. "I lived in a damn bunker for two weeks, was captive to Simon Jugosla. I've been deeper than the surface of the Earth, thank you very much."

She didn't take another drag, the corner of her lip curling up. "Ah, now that's something refreshing. But why of all people did you offer yourself to come to this pissfuck for his damn vacation?"

"She lost a bet." Belle crossed his arms behind his head. "It was either this or her Civ-Sigil."

I stared at Belle with the most condescending look I could pull on myself. This was his angle?

"Hmm, very well, but for the time being, I'm letting you two stay here and acting your part in the case only as long as one of my men gets to join up on it as well." The Lieutenant balanced the stick of burning ashes on her lips. "A safety precaution."

That was troubling.

Belle's smile was casual and charming. "Can't promise you we won't find ourselves in some kind of crime here, but Diana and I can handle ourselves. Special Intelligence, remember?"

"I very much remember." She mumbled through the fading ash. "My point stands, things will get difficult without my man ensuring things."

"In that case." I crossed my arms. "We'll choose who it is."

"Nope." She stubbed her cigarette on her table, making another one of several hundred scorched imprints onto the wood. "His name's Tristan Lockheed. First Rank, Shard Adapter."

"I-"

"He'll meet you tomorrow. For now, find some place good to rest up or…"

"Actually-" Belle interrupted. "We're a bit sore from our ride, Diana wouldn't stop shutting up about how much she needed to punch something, any training rooms here fit for us?"

Her neutral face once more took a deep curl. "I might have one available, but there'll be an audience."

Belle smiled, matching her sadism. "There should be participants."

———

"What the hell was that?" I whispered to Belle as soon as we were out of earshot from any of the staff. "You completely derailed our ca-"

"Sshhh." Belle hushed me, before whispering even quieter. "Sorry for the performance, but she was fishy. It's clear she doesn't want that case opened up again, not without her having some ability to control it."

"I could tell as much." I matched his subtle tone. "So you want her to think we're here to slack off?"

"Exactly, but she'll have people watching us. The guy she's sending is likely a red herring to throw us off." Belle eyed those wandering gazes around us. "She was right about a few things, you're going to pull a lot of criminal attention onto yourself. There's bound to be police here willing to make an 'accident' happen, you need them to be wary of you."

"I gathered as much from you mentioning training." I sighed. "Could have warned me."

"Wanted to, but it would only have made things worse. You're not the best actor."

"I'm a fantastic actor." I took offence to that, after all, I'd snuck into The Toxin Club all that time ago. And I got acting lessons…

"No." He settled his gaze on me, and I knew he was talking about something deeper. "You're not."

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