5 excavating screws for a pack of cigs? Sounds like you've got a screw loose yourself.
HP | 71.0 + (2.4*lvl) |
DEF |
Trigger | Dialogue |
---|---|
Identity Acquisition | 5 excavating screws for a pack of cigs? Sounds like you've got a screw loose yourself. |
Morning Greeting | ... So busy, so early in the morning? Well, I do approve of your diligence. |
Afternoon Greeting | Fools running low on time start stalking the Backstreets around this hour. I enjoy watching them eventually slow to a crawl when they inevitably run out of time; it's quite the amusing sight. |
Evening Greeting | It's getting late... The detective will soon deliver me the ingredients for my art. Ah, I must admit that the thought excites me. |
Chatter #1 | Is it D.O.N. and T.E. next? Hah, I wasn't talking to you... Clock. |
Chatter #2 | Currency is just smoke and mirrors. It's much fairer to trade items of immediate worth instead, isn't it? Or even better, use that elbow grease and make your own. |
Chatter #3 | I prefer to apply a certain... percussive method when it comes to fixing broken machines. |
Post-Uptie Chat 1 | The tip of a lit cig, slowly burning itself away... A metaphor for the impending rider of death, atop the steed of time. It's just like this rich pig whose time we burned away. Heh, quite avant-garde, isn't it? |
Post-Uptie Chat 2 | The Yurodiviye Ideology...? Who cares. I just found the aesthetics of their movement alluring. I don't mind paying for my cigs with items instead of cash, either. |
Idle | Yurodiviye... More like you're-all-divvied-up. Pfft. |
Uptying | Hmph, fine—record all you want. Just make sure to get all the blood splatters. |
Deployment | This looks fun. I'll take this. |
Stage Entry | This is a H.I.T. List. List of fools to be Hacked In Two, that is. |
Viewed in Battle | They better give us a good fight. |
Commencing Attack | Let's bring them down. |
Enemy Stagger | Shake down the loaded pigs... |
Staggered | Tsk. |
Enemy Killed | ... and share the pilfered time with everyone. |
Death | Even I end up 'redistributed'... Haah. Not bad, not bad... |
Check Passed | Were you watching? Then pay up. Pack of Monkey Cigs per view. |
Check Failed | ... This bland act isn't my scene. |
Victory Cry | Hmm, not a bad invention... A bit more grease could've helped, however. |
Extra Conditions Fulfilled | Perfection. Now that I've given it some thought, I see the aesthetics in using such a janky invention to crush the janky brains of those who reign over us. |
Defeat Wail | So this D.O.N.T.E. didn't go as planned, did it? No deconstruction of normalcy, no one's terrified... Well, no matter. I can always make more time as long as I'm breathing. |
N.O.
- When an other ally Staggers an enemy with an attack: follow up with a Skill 1 against the Staggered enemy. (once per Turn)
- If multiple enemies are Staggered at once, target the enemy with the least HP(for Abnormalities, target the Abnormality with the least HP; then, target the Part with the least HP).
- When using Skill 1 with this effect, this unit gains +1 more <<((Vibration))Tremor>> Count from its Coin effects, and triggers a <<((VibrationExplosion))Tremor Burst>> with the last Coin On Hit
The A.I.
AMBER x 4
#1 Deployed ally gains +1 more Tremor Count from their Skill or Coin effects (2 times per turn)
Got a Screw Loose?
Got a Screw Loose?
Got a Screw Loose?
Got a Screw Loose?
Compression Wind-up Spanner
Compression Wind-up Spanner
Compression Wind-up Spanner
Compression Wind-up Spanner
Percussive Maintenance
Percussive Maintenance
T Corp. Staff standard issue weaponry. A rice cooker that doubles as a slow cooker for hearty beef stew. Cute, chicken-shaped plush. Lollipop candies of various flavor, too.
All kinds of items are on display in each stall...
... at this famous Bartering Market of the Yurodiviye underground hideouts.
The child came here to trade for an item of great importance.
That is why she scrounged for every single leftover screw she could find after building her invention.
Four screws for a box of cigs. Aren't they of equivalent worth?
Hah, nonsense.
This box is packed to the brim with cigs, I'll have you know. Seven screws.
The Yurodivy merchant shakes his head, but the child wasn't going to back down just yet.
She shoved the screws on her palm closer to his face and declared.
Four.
Six. And that's with the discount for bein' one of us, lass.
Four.
F-five. I won't go any lower than that, alright?!
Four. Refuse again and I'll S.Y.N.C.
Perhaps the child's glare intimidated him.
His eyes began to wander in search of something he needed, something she would be happy to take care of in return for the box of cigs.
They came to a sudden stop on his radio that broke down some time ago. His attachment radio.
W-wait. Just hold on a moment.
How about this? No need to pay me with screws, yeah? Just get this broken radio workin' again and I'll give you the whole box.
Oho.
Great. So I did try my hand at fixing it, and from what I can tell it's a wiring problem down he— AAGH!
Just as the merchant was starting to explain what was wrong with his radio...
... the child pulled out a massive spanner from somewhere and began smashing the merchant's radio with it.
Clang. Clang. Clang. The heavy sound of metal slamming into metal, something one wouldn't expect to hear outside places like the Workshops, was more than enough to freak out the merchant. He jumped from his seat screaming and tried to stop the child, but...
... it was too late.
What the hell, lass?! Look, it's completely busted!
Look harder.
The merchant, after a moment of silence for his crushed radio, dejectedly reached out and pressed its buttons.
... And exclaimed with joy.
Whuh... huh? That... that worked?!
Hmph. You can always trust percussive maintenance to do its job.
The child was no longer interested in conversing further with the merchant, no matter how happy he looked as he tinkered with the radio. She was now looking at the other child, who was eyeing the sundry lollipops on display at some other stall. She took a box of cigarettes from the merchant before kicking the other child in the shin.
No more lollipops. Time to give me a job. Now.
You know I'm technically your captain, right? How come you're always kicking me to get my attention? You're so mean~
The child protested with a lollipop in his mouth and rubbed his shin in pain, but his expression made it quite clear that he didn't really mind this small violence.
In fact, it appeared that the other child was used to such treatments from her; he nonchalantly produced a bundle of paper from his overcoat and placed it in her hand.
I would appreciate it a lot if you could come to our hideout to pick up your next assignment. Anyways... I trust that you'll take care of this list just as well, right?
Your appreciation is N.O.M.B. The targets you gave me last time were too bland. I barely felt anything from bashing in their skulls.
Then you'll like this one. Your next target is a bigwig, an actual industrialist, the proprietor of the biggest factory in the area. He's...
The child's lips slowly curled into a smile as the other child continued to explain her target.
The child, now outside the Yurodiviye hideout and weapon in hand, slowly stalks her target.
The look of unsuppressed elation is clear on her face.
Hong Lu, that brat. He finally fished up something exciting.
In her hands is a piece of paper they called the List.
Names of those who exploited the weak and the downtrodden filled the paper from corner to corner, barely leaving any white paper to be seen under all that ink.
The child's current target was on the List.
It's such an artistic ecstasy to watch the look of someone who's never experienced shortened time... have their time taken from them.
This child didn't have some grand, just purpose in mind when she picked up this list.
She doesn't really care about redistribution of wealth or making sure that no one goes hungry, either.
The heinous acts of evil men was none of her business, either.
In fact, even the Yurodiviye ideology was none of her business.
She just enjoyed cutting the haves short. Whether it was cutting their time short... or their lives.
R.O.W. is the A.O.S.
The child suddenly breaks into a sprint after passing the flickering streetlight.
The child swings the spanner, albeit at an oddly slow speed.
If someone with a lot of time were to see it, they would even be able to tell the exact trajectory of that swing.
But the rich man still failed to dodge her assault...
... as she swung it at a meticulously calculated angle that left no room for him to move.
A weighty, blunt noise briefly echoes through the alley.
The child grins satisfactorily as she places the cigarette she traded for between her lips. She'd extracted quite a bit of time from the target.
That's when she noticed a brief, flashing light next to the streetlight.
A T Corp. surveillance camera.
Tsk, that recording won't do this piece of art justice.
The child furrowed her brows and swung her spanner again, this time at the camera.
The surveillance camera promptly drops to the ground.
Now, isn't this a much better angle?