The traffic jams had been worse than expected.

By the time we'd reached the fourth district, we were actually slightly late. So we hurried to the motel where I took a quick shower and changed out of the gaudy overly-expensive RGB clothes. Isia had then taken the too-expensive clothes and dropped herself off in the dry-cleaner's while sending me off to the Well with the car on autopilot.

We'd made sure to straighten out our alibis beforehand. Isia's official story was that she'd gone off to party the night prior and was suffering through a massive hangover.

"You sure you're up for this?" Vesper asked as soon as I'd hopped out of the car, eyeing me up and down as if trying to gauge whether I was hiding broken bones or something. "The official story is that Bear's attack at the end did a number on you, so it'd be ok if you'd rather rest some more."

"What'd be the issue of getting a session today?" I asked. "Today's meant to be a long run but low intensity, right?"

"Sure, but it's one thing to pretend to be debilitated and another to actually be in no condition to go at it." Her tone gave little room for arguments as she led the way to the tent. "Mistakes can happen and monsters don't give a shit."

"Yeah, you're right." I nodded along, stepping inside and giving Quinn a small wave of hello. The gang's techie was wearing full weather gear as usual. "I just need a warm-up."

"We'll put that into the stream, it'll help bump up stream-time. Quinn, was-" Vesper stopped as I'd removed my shirt. "Jesus fuck!"

"What?" I asked, glancing over my shoulder, noting how even Quinn had stopped tinkering, staring intently at my back.

"Axel…" Vesper's voice wavered for a moment. "I get if you'd rather not share, but just how did you survive the fight with Shadow?"

I wasn't too sure what she was talking about, not until Quinn pulled out a tablet and showed me a picture of my own back. It was a mess of crisscrossing scar-tissue that left very little skin. As I bent to try and touch it, I could barely feel the irregular topography, no wonder I hadn't noticed it was there until now.

"I…" My first instinct was to try and avoid the topic entirely. This stepped closer into explanations of the full scope of my powers than I was comfortable sharing. "It wasn't easy." I muttered. "I went into the badlands to try and get an edge, and… well, it was mostly me trying to survive and run the clock out, though Shadow still managed to get in a good blow."

"But how did you heal?" Quinn asked, their voice lingered at the edge of being insistent. The techie had stepped closer, the opaque visor in their helmet reflecting the image of my own skin. "Even at an all-star hospital, something like this would've kept you bedridden for months. Even healer megucas couldn't patch this up in less than a week, not…"

"I don't fully understand it myself, I'm still discovering what I can do," I replied, averting my gaze from the two as I rubbed my neck awkwardly. "I had a very close call."

They shared glances, and I could practically hear the question hanging in the air. Yet neither of them voiced it. Vesper was the one to talk, pretending like my answer was all they wanted to know. "I'll say." She eyed me for a moment. "And you're sure you're ok? Did you at least get a check-up?"

That was literally the last thing I wanted right now, especially after that last conversation with Moreau. "The last thing I need is someone getting their hands on a sample or something," I replied. "I really didn't notice this. Do you think it'll be a problem for the stream?"

She glanced at Quinn, gaze taking that slightly unfocused edge for several seconds before she finally spoke up. "Hiding it would be hard, not impossible, but certainly not cheap. If we're going to reveal it, we can't tell the fans this came out of a meguca attack." The gang leader gave me a questioning look. "What do you think?"

Her words gave me pause.

She was right that trying to pass it off as a meguca-based injury wasn't the best of ideas, for one, people just did not fight megucas. Not just for the practical factors, humans weren't going to survive such an encounter, but also because megucas were protectors of humanity. To be targeted and attacked seriously could only really be the resultof some major transgression.

Or at least, that'd been what I'd thought before Shadow.

"We could claim it was out of a monster attack," I replied. "I'd gone out thinking I was fully recovered, fought some monsters, overestimated myself, and got lucky." I perked up. "Actually, that kind of gives me an idea that might be great for a slow day…"

SKREAAAAAAAH

The mouther screamed its nonexistent lungs away. The thing was uglier up close than I remembered, a fleshy spherical blob of flesh with most of its volume dedicated to a mouth with sharp fangs. The four limbs it called legs were tiny by comparison, but even those were desperately clawing at the air in a vain attempt to free itself from my grip.

It was like holding on to a squeaky ball that kept trying to wriggle free.

"Mouther." I spoke as I glanced at the drone. "Eater type. Once it opens its mouth, it will bite whatever enters it." Using my free hand, I pulled up a chunk of debris and placed it into its mouth. The fangs clamped down on the concrete with a 'snap', but it failed to do any actual damage, chomping over and over. "It will keep doing this until it dies, or the object breaks, or the object's removed from its mouth."

Carefully, I lowered the monster to the ground, releasing it.

Even as it gnawed on the chunk of debris, it tried to shove its mouth against my ankle, effectively pushing the debris deeper into its mouth and choking itself. The monster kept letting out gargled screeches as it slammed itself mouth-first into my leg.

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The drone beeped, an electronic male AI voice piping up.

"ElectroFungus6969 says: can you keep it as a pet?"

I scoffed. "No, of course not." I crouched, flicking a finger at the monster, sending it sprawling back. The debris was dislodged, and it returned to screeching as it attempted to get a piece of my foot.

The monster met its end as I stomped it into a splatter.

"Even the dimmest monster will attempt to kill you. Some might do so in roundabout ways, others might not comprehend the best way to do it." I adjusted my 3D-printed bone-mask before it fell off. "Mouthers alone are responsible for millions of amputations every year."

"VivroBudBud23 says: Mouther is love. Mouther is life."

"ElectroFungus6969 says: stick your dick in it."

The drone's speaker kept going, prattling off other such nonsensical meme-type messages from viewers who'd made the corresponding donations. I'd throw in a thanks or a comment here and there, though most of the memes and references went entirely over my head. I clearly needed a course on New Francisco content, because everything that came to mind was from Frontier City 02.

That is, until one of the comments caught my attention.

"Gavigavigavi says: Would you win in a fight against the Shush Monster?"

For once, I was thankful that the mask hid my face, otherwise someone might have noticed the hesitation. "I doubt it," I said after straightening my thoughts out a bit. "Monster of that size and speed? It's got to be at least an F-class, probably E. I'd need a lot more than just Mr. Stick. Something in the .50 caliber explosive-tip range to keep it cost-effective."

I'd been about to mention that maybe the best way to 'deal' with the shush-monster would be to send a meguca after it. But the thought immediately brought a little chuckle out of me. Someone had tried exactly that and failed, after all.

"Yugi33matarara says: Why be cost-effective when you can just be effective? Blast it to the moon!"

"Sure," I agreed, finding a new mouther to bully. "But survival is a marathon, the more you spend today, the less you have tomorrow. If I use a nuke to kill a G-class, then I'm one nuke short for when a C-class shows up." Finding my newest victim, I pounced, grappling with the chomping mouth as it tried to claim my hand. "Now…" I heaved, having finally managed to get a firm hold on the little monster. "...continuing where we left off. The mouther might not be bright nor have great eyesight, but it uses its tongue as a replacement for a sense of smell and it's very sharp…"

"Now, if you'll pay attention to the drone overhead, you should be able to see the crawler currently trying to ambush me," I said, pointing at the pile of rubble up ahead, my earpiece pinging to inform me that there were three. "I'd say they're not really much smarter than mouthers. Their methods are more effective, but they're just as easy to fool." I stepped closer to the rubble, stopping at six meters. "Their pounce-range is roughly four meters, once I step closer, it will enter attack-mode. If I look away from their position, they will pounce, if I don't, then they will either wait until I'm three meters away, or until I take a step away from their position. Like this."

Two exaggeratedly long steps forwards, followed by a one second wait, and then followed by taking one exaggeratedly long step back. Instantly, all three crawlers pounced out of the rubble, bolting towards me and hissing angrily, entirely uncaring for how exposed they'd left themselves.

Three good swings of Mr. Stick and they'd been turned into puddles of hissing monster goop.

"Historically speaking, the technique was developed and codified way back when G's were the biggest concern around." I chuckled, shaking my head. "Keep in mind that, though I am capable of easily killing them with Mr. Stick, it's preferable to engage from a distance, any .22 would suffice for the job."

The drone's speakers crackled. "VivroBudBud23 says: Why not pet?"

My brow twitched. "Because it'll rip my hand off." I shook my head emphatically. "Crawler claws are razor sharp, they can easily cut through kevlar protection. Their bodies are also very flexible, so it's not hard for them to twist around your grip and find something to shred."

My earpiece chirped again, and I frowned.

"It seems an F-class has caught my scent and is moving in," I informed the viewers. "Seeing how today's not a day for me to bring out the unga-bunga, I'll start making my way back."

"VivroBudBud23 says: Catch?"

"Definitely not an F-class." I quickly shot down the idea. "However, I think it's a good opportunity to show another one of the good-old strategies: leading a stalker into a kill-box." Pausing, I scratched my chin. "It's a technique that gained prevalence when we switched to CYPHER economics. It's a very efficient method against lower classifications, doubly so if you don't need to worry about fuel. But with anything D or higher… it can get really dangerous to allow a monster of that power get that close."

Making my way back towards our improvised base of operations, I informed Vesper to be ready. Though I was confident I could tackle the F-class, it'd been a long day already, and the point of the stream was to show myself not going that hard.

Unstrapping the mask after nine hours of streaming felt like heaven.

I plopped myself on to the stool, pulling up the water bottle and drenching my head, washing my face, and just basking in the cool refreshment. It took a moment before I finally glanced around. "Where's Quinn?"

"They had to leave early," Vesper replied casually as she was checking her gear and packing it up. "Today wasn't a good day, the meds kicked a little too hard."

"Are they alright?"

"Yeah, it's normal, nothing to worry about," she replied casually, pointing at a cardboard box at the side. "Got some drone-delivery food for you."

"Not all heroes wear capes," I muttered, ravishing the packaging, but stopping when I noticed the contents. I'd been mostly expecting protein slushies or something along those lines, instead I was met with a dozen wrapped up sandwiches. The premium sort that had cheese substitute and vegetable derivatives. "You really didn't need to go this far, though thanks for the meal."

"What do you usually eat?" Vesper asked as she moved on to start dismantling the tent.

"Oh, you know, protein by the bulk. My appetite is… kind of economically troublesome." I munched on the meal, giving her a look. "Do you want any help with that?"

"You've been running around for most of the day, I just got to sit on my ass and tend to the crowd a little." She twirled the tent pipe. "Stream didn't draw new viewers, but previous ones upgraded. Not to sound too much like a corpo, but today's session went pretty well, it humanized you to the viewers, made you look more approachable."

I nodded at that, not entirely certain of how to take it. "Next session I should get a bit more serious, get some proper fights under my belt."

Vesper laughed. "God, you sound like the old Bear."

My face grew a little hot. "What are you talking about?"

"It's…" Slamming shut the box, she let out a long sigh. "Back when she got her powers, she was like that, wanting to smash monsters left and right."

"Sounds like something happened."

"If it did, she never said." Vesper's gaze became distant for a moment. "One day things just… changed. She stopped being so…" Her hand made a vague gesture in the air. "It doesn't matter now. Just keep it up and we'll be able to get the gang properly running soon."

"And what would that look like?" I asked, finishing off my meal as I went over to lend a hand in picking everything up.

Vesper just let out a sigh. "I wish I knew," she said. "For now just gotta focus on saving up as much as possible."

As I looked her way, working hard to stuff everything back into her car, I thought back to the Banker.

And I had a very dangerous idea.

What if the shush-monster gave him a visit?

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