All eyes followed Cassie as she wheeled a whiteboard into the room. Going by how scuffed the frame was, the paint chipping and peeling, I was willing to bet it had been left behind by the last tenants of the office.

  “The Devils operate on commission. If you want to get a start as a villain crew, you gotta be willing to do jobs for the bigger fish. In our case, this job has come our way from Jupiter.”

  I tried to maintain a good poker face, but I couldn’t help but tense a bit.

  Crime came in many forms in Argent. Street gangs like the Kings and whoever else they were beefing with? They were the bottom feeders, playing with the scraps and giving their tithes to the actual big dogs of Argent City.

  And of those dogs, Jupiter was one of the biggest. I could recall Dad talking about him in the past, discussing the major villains who ruled the roost of the city.

  “He named himself after the Roman king of the gods. Arrogant? You better believe it, pumpkin. But when you can do what he does, some arrogance is deserved. You’d have to be kind of nuts to cross him.”

  I raised a hand, making Cassie halt before she could roll the whiteboard around to the other side. “I wanna say, before you get deep into anything, I don’t plan on killing people.” Aside from Sidewinder, potentially.

  Cassie lifted one brow. “Aren’t you selling weapons to people? They’re not gonna use those things for pacifism, you know.”

  I shrugged. “Whatever people do with my toys whenever I’m not using them is none of my business.” I’m sure there were people who would still find me culpable, and they were welcome to take their essays on morality and shove them up their cornholes.

  “Okay, okay, noted. Well we’re not serial killers, Jay. And while Jupiter probably has a kill count in the triple digits, we don’t wanna contribute. And he’s not hiring us as hitmen. He’s got guys like Six-Shooter and Headhunter for that. Nah we’re being tasked with... Thievery.”

  The board squeaked as she flipped it around, revealing an assortment of pictures that had been taped to it. “Oy,” Beatrix said, taking a long sip of her soda. “Always with the whiteboard.”

  “I like the whiteboard. Now shut up a sec.” Cassie motioned to a picture at the heart of the board, a large red brick building that looked like it was straight out of the Victorian era. I could just about see a few huge chimneys looming in the background. “This here’s the old Mercury Autofactory. Used to be a car manufacturing spot, but it went under and has been abandoned for many years. Naturally, that’s led to every crook and their grandmother using it as a hideout.”

  “Naturally,” Greg said, folding his hands behind his head.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  “According to Jupiter, it’s currently being used by STING.” She motioned to another picture, this one a grainy CCTV image depicting a group of armed men carrying large rifles in their hands. The big eyes and pointed mouthpieces of their helmets made them look like hornets. “Naturally, Jupiter doesn’t want those guys operating in his city.”

  Superior Technology Implementation and Navigation Group. I’d heard the name on the news a few times. Torturous acronym aside, they were a big deal. A global terror network that largely operated outside the Society, interested solely in the advancement of their own pursuits of technology.

  “So... we go in there? Knock a few heads and break their junk?” I asked.

  “Essentially.” Cassie gave a shrug of her shoulder. “Those guys are naturally well armed, probably have some Augments on security too. But Jupiter says to leave any weapons undamaged. You know, so he can repurpose them.”

  He’d get his cut. After I took mine, of course. Wasn’t every day you could get your hands on STING gear.

  “We’ve got a deadline to the end of the month to get the job done, or Jupiter will give the gig to another crew. With the pay he’s offering? I’d rather that not happen. But we still oughta scope the place out, and those little troopers of yours are perfect for the job.”

  “They can handle the job. I’d just need to fit a camera to one of them.”

  Beatrix leaned forward, elongating her neck a little. I’d have to learn to get used to that. “You could fit a camera to something that small?” she asked, eyes wide.

  “Theoretically.”

  Artisan powers could be tricky. Everyone assumed they were some variant of super-intelligence, but that wasn’t exactly true. While my powers gave me an innate grasp of machinery, that didn’t mean I understood it. Put a disassembled V8 engine in front of me and I could reassemble it as if in a fugue state, but I couldn’t explain to a person how I did it.

  My tech, oriented around toys for the most part, operated on a similar level. I could fiddle with them, alter them to do what I wanted, but the how and why eluded me. And if a qualified engineer tried to replicate my process, it simply wouldn’t work.

  Some scientists said that Artisans were possibly low-grade reality warpers. Our tech worked because we believed it would work. Made as much sense as anything else.

  And some Artisans, simply put, had a much stronger sense of belief than others.

  “Then I can trust you to whip something up an’ help me scout the place out?” I gave Cassie a nod, which made her smile approvingly. “You got a costume.”

  “Not one that could be considered... professional,” I admitted.

  “Well... that won’t do,” Greg said. “We don’t want someone who’s running around in airsoft gear or some shit.”

  “Shut the fuck up, Cheech.”

  “He’s got a point though, we do wanna set a decent vibe. Gotta at least appear professional, you know. I could hook you up with a guy I know.”

  “I...” Grunting, I sank back into my seat. “I have someone I’m hoping to get a costume from. Guess I can speedrun things a little and go to meet him.”

  The meeting ended soon after, and three of the group busied themselves with the games consoles. As the sound of aggravated chatter over kart racing filled the office, I made my way over to Cassie. "Take it they don’t know about... our shared interest?”

  “Haven’t mentioned it to ‘em yet. I will eventually.”

  “Right.” Sighing, I leaned against a boarded up window and downed the last of my soda. “I should say that while money is nice, my interest is always gonna be in Bonfire Night above all else. I hope it’s the same for you too.”

  Cassie looked at me with a newfound seriousness, her expression devoid of any mirth or teasing. “Abso-fuckin-lutely.”

  We nodded at each other in silent understanding. “Then I guess we ought to keep in touch. Gimme your number, I’ll give you mine. We’ll want to keep in close contact, going forward.”