They're... all from our Office. Firefist Office.
HP | 82.0 + (2.95*lvl) |
DEF |
Trigger | Dialogue |
---|---|
Identity Acquisition | They're... all from our Office. Firefist Office. |
Morning Greeting | Nothing changes here when the sun rises. A tiny room with rotten air, clammy walls... boxed in without even a ray of sunshine. That we even used to dream of something stupid like hope in this semi-basement coffin... it all feels like a bad joke now. |
Afternoon Greeting | Ah, I like getting there early. P Corp. and their joke of a briefing starts around noon, you know. I've sat through it more than enough times to remember every little word of it, but... I always try to pay attention anyway. The dead leave good intel... both for killing and surviving Bloodfiends. |
Evening Greeting | When that wretched amusement park opens, when that music begins to play... I can almost see them again. Wearing the same clothes they wore that day. But it's all just a mirage... And I should stop letting illusions be my only solace. |
Chatter #1 | I don't want to join the Bloodfiend Hunters. I don't hate those monsters—Bloodfiends—like the hunters do. ... I just want to see La Manchaland burn. It's the least I can do as the last survivor of Firefist Office. |
Chatter #2 | You want to know which Workshop I got this arm from? Huh. I think it was some Backstreets Workshop that hasn't even been open for a month and was already well on the way to closure. The owner was clearly a new fella in the business with no connections to speak of, but had some talent. Which means that we managed to snag decent gears for cheap. |
Chatter #3 | Rain... Big sis hated it. Said it makes everything feel clammy and cold, said she can't even spark the fire right when it rains... I didn't mind it then, but now... not so much. The amusement park doesn't open when it rains, you see. |
Post-Uptie Chat 1 | I'm not gonna flaunt these middling results to line my pockets with contribution rewards. The dead won't forgive me if I do. Instead, I'm... I'm gonna burn it all down. That disgusting amusement park, and the clothes they forced onto her... all of it. |
Post-Uptie Chat 2 | There it is, growling and skittering toward the burnt and congealed blood like the bloodsucking animals you are. Now you're behaving as Bloodfiends should, aren't you? Trembling in fear makes it look as though you're pretending to be human, even if it is water that makes you shudder. |
Idle | ... Care to spare me a cig? I've got light. ... I guess that's all I've got. |
Uptying | It's a cold, cold City, bud… Let’s at least have the decency to serve revenge piping hot. |
Deployment | I've prepped plenty of fuel. |
Stage Entry | ... They always open with this music. |
Viewed in Battle | This conversation can wait... until the park closes. |
Commencing Attack | Let's see how much more of this you can take. |
Enemy Stagger | I don't assume you have any last words? |
Staggered | Haah... don't worry. Wound's been cauterized. |
Enemy Killed | ... All burnt to ashes. |
Death | Haah... isn't it too... early for me to join them...? |
Check Passed | I've done all kinds of odd jobs to make ends meet. |
Check Failed | ... I'll do better next time. |
Victory Cry | So this is as far as I get this go around, huh... Next time, I'm coming back to burn that wretched parade alive. |
Extra Conditions Fulfilled | What'd I say, big sis? I said I'd return to burn it all down. |
Defeat Wail | ... I'll leave nothing but ashes next time. I won't leave even a drop of blood for you to lap on. |
I'm the only survivor...
Deal +0.2% damage for every <<((FirePunchFuel))District 12 Fuel>> and <<((FirePunchFuelOverheated))Overheated Fuel>> this unit consumed in this Encounter (max 40%)
- If the main target is a
At 1+ <<((FirePunchFuel))District 12 Fuel>> or <<((FirePunchFuelOverheated))Overheated Fuel>>, if this unit Staggers or defeats enemies with <<((Combustion))Burn>>, inflict +2 <<((Combustion))Burn>> Count against 2 random enemies without <<((Combustion))Burn>> or with the least <<((Combustion))Burn>> Count (once per turn)
- For Focused Encounters, on Parts
I hope they're from our Office...
CRIMSON x 3
1 ally with the fastest Speed: On Hit, deal +5% more Wrath Damage for every 6 <<((Combustion))Burn>> on the target (max 20%)
Flamethrow
Flamethrow
Flamethrow
Flamethrow
I'll burn away every last drop of your filthy blood
I'll burn away every last drop of your filthy blood
I'll burn away every last drop of your filthy blood
I'll burn away every last drop of your filthy blood
Firefist
Firefist
They're all from the Firefist Office! I recognize their outfits, they're from our Office!
…….
Man, I knew you'd be fine even in all that mess, big sis. How come you never gave me a call?
La... Manchaland... let's...
Hey, wake up! In what world is that your Office's outfit?!
What... what are you talking about? Look, her outfit... it's ours. She's from our Firefist Office.
... all dream free here... We hope...
What's gotten into you, man?! Get away from that Bloodbag! You're gonna get yourself killed!
Let go! There-there she is! My big sis! She's right there!
... you stay away from here!!!
…!
You good? You zoned out for a sec there.
... I'm good. Just felt faint for a moment. Anyways...
So... they're not open today either, huh?
I've been waiting for so long for them to open, yet it still remains closed.
Nope. They've locked themselves up completely with the nonstop raining and all that.
Yeah... the reason was simple. It's the constant rain.
But I don't have anywhere to go back to, even if that were the case.
There's the Firefist Office, but all that's waiting for me there is a tiny room with barely any space for furniture, let alone people... and piles of late rent notices.
I'd... like to go in there.
Okay, just stay away from the command tent.
... Going in to recover your friends' things?
No, but... actually, yeah. I better do that.
The empty lot was vast, but it wasn't hard to see where the entrance was.
Unlike blood, oil that leaked out of a ruptured fuel tank doesn't get washed away so easily in the rain.
I followed the glistening, oily rainbow to find a broken fuel tank and an abandoned gas mask.
A fortnight ago...
Big sis gathered everyone in the Office and opened the window wide in front of them.
Alright, boys. Listen up. Look out the window.
Through the window, we saw the skyscrapers of P Corp. shining in their pale, hazy lights.
We take care of this contract, we'll nab the contribution fee, and we'll literally and figuratively move up in the world to a high-rise office like the ones over there.
Once we get paid, the first order of business'll be to move. And we'll change our gears to something with better fuel efficiency.
Big sis, sorry to say, but this all sounds like you're just chasing some pipe dream. A third-rate Office like ours won't even be able to lay a finger on that contribution fee. We'd be lucky if we don't end up becoming meat shields for others, you know?
Dammit, it's not that kinda contract! We won't even have to kill a single Bloodfiend or whatever they're called.
R-right. They told us that all we have to do is to survive and collect enough intel to make a fifteen-minute testimony...
Mmh... I dunno, fellas. Something feels real off about this whole deal...
Listen. This open contract's been posted by none other than a Wing. Plenty of fancy Association Fixers'll be there too, so it's legit. All we gotta do is not die, am I right?!
Oh! Another thing. Why don't we go pick up some of those missing persons flyers from the station? Just think about how much we could make by saving just one of them, huh?
Everything about this was questionable.
The La Manchaland's an Urban Nightmare. Why'd they even approve some third-rate Office like ours to take part?
I saw that some prestigious Offices in P Corp. territory were participating in the eradication efforts too, so how come they still need more people?
But when I saw how her eyes twinkled with hope, I could not bring myself to voice those suspicions.
We're not staying in this hole forever. We gotta move up in the world, move up from taking these low-rate contracts, right?
I also wanted to get out of this hole.
I didn't want to rain on their parade, on the hope that was spreading like wildfire among us.
Everyone wanted to move on from the life of living like insects in this half-basement Office, away from the cold, clammy walls, away from the rooms that never saw even a ray of sunlight.
So, with that smallest speck of optimism found at the bottom of the barrel...
... we took on the contract, as a weak-willed escape from our present lots in life.
I told you already, they don't open on rainy days...
You already collected your friends' things earlier, so...
Day after day, I found myself returning to the empty lot.
I had no way of knowing whether it was habit, guilt, or obsession that guided my feet here.
... I know. I gotta go back. I just don't know where to.
I could still hear the reverberations of the song, through the heavy rain, through the downpour that swallowed up even the City's clamor.
La Manchaland devoured everything—our dream, our hope for the future... I had nowhere else to return to but here.
Why... why do you have to go this far...?
I shared everything I know the last time! So what are you doing back in here?!
Haah...
Where else would I go?
Back to that cold, clammy room shoved halfway into the dirt? Where there's no one left to greet me?
I used every little bit of my own savings, as worthless as it all were.
First, I used it to purchase as much fuel as I could—more than enough to last a month.
Then, with the remaining funds, I bought every scrap of information I could find and afford about La Manchaland.
Let's see... it was the sixth expedition, I think. That's when a Bloodfiend Hunter explained to me just how important blood is to your kind... that it might as well be what all of you live for.
And man, what a relief it was to know that your kind actually cares about something so deeply. Especially when it's something I can burn right before your eyes.
N-no...! Stop! Leave... leave some blood, please! Just a drop!
The flame burns everything. The structures, the bodies, and that damned outfit they forced onto her.
And the blood they so desired, too.
It melts, it congeals, and in the end—nothing remains. Every time I give them this show, the Bloodfiends all react with a predictable manner.
Denial comes first. Then they get angry, only to be reduced to a sobbing, begging mess at the end.
I let out a hollow laughter. They reminded me of myself on the day I saw her get turned into a Bloodbag.
Please, I'll do anything! I-I can think of more... Ah! Area 2! I can tell you how to get through Area 2...!
That's... actually pretty intriguing. Why didn't you lead with that?
I flick off the ignition switch and listen as the Bloodfiend begins to explain.
It told me what I'll find in Area 2, where the Bloodfiends are hiding, and what their Overseer is like.
Last time, I left as soon as I got the necessary intel because I was cutting it close to the park closing hours.
Perhaps that's why there was a slight look of hope and anticipation in the Bloodfiend's eyes after sharing that deluge of information.
That I won't go any further than this.
... I'm sure that intel will fetch me a fair price. I don't think they've ever mentioned those details in the briefing.
Then please— Aaaaargh!!!
I hosed the Bloodfiend down with a burst of flame as it tried to stumble to its feet.
It writhes on the floor, screaming, staring up at me in terrified confusion.
See, here's something I learned about revenge.
I'm not doing it to get better.
I just want you to hurt like hell.
The flames died down only after it scattered its agonized screeching to the wind.
The closing hours must be getting close. One by one, the other Fixers turn around to leave La Manchaland.
I quietly follow them outside.
I've burned so much, but there's plenty of kindling left in this amusement park.
It'll take more than one visit to reduce them all to ashes. I'll keep coming back for more.
If not today, tomorrow. If not tomorrow, the very next day.
I'll pack more fuel next time.
That wretched dressing room... that phony 'confessional', that ridiculous procession...
I'm gonna burn it all down. ... I have to.