"You really enjoy doing this, don’t you?"
Shaking his head, Dante decided to forget about his earlier promise and relaxed into his seat.
"So? Did you not know about the heroes moving in, or did you just forget to tell me?"
"To be honest, I just didn’t think it was worth mentioning. They are more of a quick response team, not street patrol." Victor reached into his jacket. "How you ended up encountering one of them, I guess it’s plain bad luck."
He took out something and passed it to Dante, who couldn’t help but be a little shocked when he saw what it was.
"You managed to get it back?" He asked.
In his hands was a bulky pistol with a dark blue coating. Dante had given up on it after getting arrested. Once a weapon falls into the hands of the police, it is almost impossible to retrieve, especially if it’s not registered.
"I called in some favors," Victor said. "Since this case is getting erased anyway, they didn’t have any problem letting me take it."
"It’s getting erased?"
"Mr. Simmons doesn’t want what happened to get out. The last thing he wants is people wandering why his kid had to be saved by a hero."
"Does he even have that kind of power?"
"Nothing a few bottles of good whisky can’t solve." The fixer snorted then turned his gaze to the window.
Dante didn’t feel like he had anything to say so the car quickly grew quiet, the only noise that could be heard being that of the blaring horns outside. The increasing traffic forced them to a stop. As they waited for the car to move, Victor spoke again, his voice sounding a lot more solemn.
"Seriously, kid, sorry for getting you caught in this."
Not knowing how to reply, Dante glanced at him for a moment then shrugged.
"Don’t worry about it-" The corners of his mouth rose into a mischievous grin as he spoke the last word, "Dad."
It was a good thing that they weren’t moving, or Boris would have crashed the car. That one word was enough to turn Victor into a stone statue. As much as he enjoyed playing his role as the loud, drunk father, the fixer truly couldn’t stand being referred to as a dad, especially not by his fake son. It wasn’t much, but Dante decided to call it even with that.
The car soon started moving again. Turning to the oversized driver, Dante asked
"By the way, Boris, did you take care of that thing for me?"
"It’s done." The big guy raised a thumb up. "Gotta ask, though, since when do you jack wheels?"
"Been thinking of getting a ride for a while now. This looked like a good opportunity."
"Tired of riding trains, huh?"
"I can only beat so many thugs before it gets old." Dante shrugged.
"You should drop by Megan’s shop later, then. Get her to clean one for you and see what you want to do with the rest."
Victor seemed to recover from his petrification at that moment, which left him in a somber mood.
"These so-called heroes are spreading faster than a new drug." He said.
"Tell me about it." Dante followed.
"Back in the day, all you had to worry about were robo-cops," Boris commented. "And those were few and far between."
"It’s not like cyborgs are getting less common." Victor said. "Genomes are far less predictable, however. That makes them a royal pain in the neck."
The variety in bionics resulted in the birth of many types of Cyborgs, and that’s without counting the custom parts that allow for further specialization. Nevertheless, the abilities Cyborgs have are generally more grounded. The most common are those who have enhanced strength or speed, which allows them to use weapons that a normal person doesn’t have.
Genomes, on the other hand, have a range of outright fantastical abilities, like being capable of creating fire, manipulating water, absorbing electricity, or transforming into a furry beast.
"I heard whispers," Victor said. "They say that Eidolon is preparing to commercialize some of their Genome treatments."
Dante gave him a glance but said nothing.
"You don’t look too surprised." Said the fixer.
"I mean, it was obvious from the start," Dante said. "I bet they already rolled it out for some of their investors."
The Eisenberg girl was enough proof, and with the constant influx of new heroes, it was highly unlikely that all of them were raised in a lab.
"It seems things are going to get a lot more difficult for us." Victor sighed.
"Tell me about it." Dante followed.
Heroes aren’t the only problem. The Level of criminals and villains was bound to rise as well, making it harder for those in the gray zone to do their job.
Dante lingered for a few moments, then asked
"So, you got any new gigs for me?"
They had agreed on the fixer giving him some proper jobs once the whole thing with the Simmons brat was done.
"Already?" Victor furrowed his brows. "Don’t you want a break or something?"
"I’ll get my sleep, don’t worry. " Dante replied. "And I need the money, so keep them coming."
"Money, huh... you’ve always been all about it."
"You think I would be bothering with all this if it wasn’t for the Gs?"
"You’re rushing things too much." The fixer said. "I tried not to think about it before, but then the stuff in Factory Town happened. You need to give yourself some time, kid."
"Yeah, let me go on a vacation," Dante spoke sarcastically. "Maybe I will work on my mental health while I’m at it."
"I’m being serious, kid. You need to-"
"Victor, don’t tell me you’re letting the role get to you." Dante cut him off, his voice growing cold. "You’re a fixer, and I’m a merc. Either you give me jobs, or I will go find them somewhere else."
Once again, silence filled the car’s interior just as it reached another stop. Shifting his gaze, Victor glanced beside him and said in the same calm tone.
"Then I guess you don’t want in on the next party I’m preparing."