District 20 Backstreets (before battle)

So we're finally here, eh...

Heathcliff looked out the rattling bus window with a dour expression.

Though it wasn't raining, the world outside was grey and opaque like an overcast sky. Black, pungent clouds of smoke had long devoured the atmosphere.

So this is the kind of place Heathcliff used to roam...

The color remains grey this deep into the heart of the Backstreets. I recall with quite the certitude that the T Corp. I arrived at after my departure from S Corp. was sepia-hued.

This phenomenon can be explained by the fact that the technology used to drain our saturation is situated at the center of T Corp. It has been reported that such variations in hue may occur in areas further away from its sphere of influence.

Ah, I understand. Then...

Two other Sinners immediately jumped in on the conversation to direct it away from whichever obscure subject Yi Sang and Faust were about to steer it into.

OH! Right, I had something to ask you guys!

Ohh, yeah! Uh, m-me too.

What? I-I mean yeah! That's, uh... oh, yeah. The buildings here look a little different from where Yi Sang used to live... so I'm just wondering if there's anything up with that.

Exactly! That's exactly what I was about to ask.

<......>

It's been a while since we started on this journey together. I was starting to grow more comfortable with the Sinners.

Maybe that's why I found Gregor and Rodya's valiant effort to keep this conversation remotely comprehensible to most occupants of the bus... pretty amusing.

Ah, allow me to elaborate, then. To discuss this subject, we must first -

And Yi Sang, unknowingly shooting down their effort by jumping into another complicated discussion, was another sight I'd become familiar with.

While I was curious about the technology T Corp. uses to drain our color, and about the behind-the-scenes of T Corp.'s operations...

... it wasn't something that could be answered now. I decided to table that discussion for later.

Instead, I approached Heathcliff. He was sitting all by his lonesome, clearly in deep thought.

... Hm? Ah, Clockhead.

<Still wracking your head about what to wear to Wuthering Heights?>

What?! N-no. It's nothing like that.

Heathcliff protested, jumping up from his seat. Looks like I hit the nail right on the head.

Fine, I was. A little bit. But... I was mostly reminiscing.

Mm, I do remember hearing that Heathcliff used to live in the Backstreets.

A part of some... Syndicate, if I recall correctly.

Vergilius did say that we were going through the Backstreets instead of going straight to the T Corp. Nest for a reason. And that it was because of the company's orders.

<... Maybe there's something for us to do here? Heathcliff did spend some time in the T Corp. Backstreets, after all.>

<Maybe we'll run into a Golden Bough here...?>

No chance. If the Golden Bough was as common as any other twig in some Backstreets, why'd we be doing any of this globetrotting waste of time?

<T-true, I guess...>

... Besides, Wuthering Heights is... quite the manor in more ways than one. You won't find it anywhere near some run-down Backstreets like this.

There's a chasm of wealth between these poor alleyway sods and... them.

After all, they've sent me an invitation. Quite obvious that we'll find our Golden Bough in that manor, innit? Or at least somewhere in the same Nest?

... Correct. We will eventually travel to T Corp.'s Nest.

Heathcliff continued to speak in a low voice. The hubbub from outside the bus seemed to blend with his words, turning into a mass of murmurs. There was a sort of commotion outside...

Before we talk about wherever our eventual destination is, we'll have to clear the road of some blockage.

Your intuition is half-right, Heathcliff.

Hmpfh?!

Heathcliff, who was muttering to himself in an uncharacteristic daze, jolted awake.

Bloody hell... what's wrong with you and the vroom-vroom lass? Neither of you ever do anything with a proper forewarning.

I simply did not see the necessity in warning you.

Anyway, those outside the bus are our 'targets'.

<Targets...?>

I believe that he means to say that they must be eliminated.

I feel compelled to let you know that that is not the only implication of the word 'target'. Though I am yet to be informed of the precise details of this mission, that is...

Regardless, you are to make contact with a 'target' among them.

Find the target, then extract the necessary intel. Is this clear enough for you, manager?

<How are we supposed to find this 'target' if you're not even going to tell us who it is...?>

Dante asks if there are any identifying characteristics to this 'target'.

I'm sure you'll find out when you get there... You are asking me questions I have no answers to, Dante. Don't waste your time.

Well... Off the bus, all.

I was somewhat wary of the way Vergilius answered me, but... even in murky situations like these, we've always managed to pull through anyway.

I'm sure things'll get a little clearer once we get there. I slowly disembarked the bus with the rest of the Sinners.