(36 hours later) [Brockton Bay City Plaza]
My Mars-Red robe fluttered around my frame as I strolled proudly through the early-morning streets of Brockton Bay.
With every step I took, the whirr of servomotors and the clink of gearlocks rang out. Civilians looked like they were about to brown their pants as I walked on by, my glowing red bionic eyes gliding over scrambled to give me a wide berth, often tripping over their feet to do so.
"Nothing to see here, fellow people of Earth-Bet." I waved as I passed the gaping people by, "Of which I am clearly one, because I am also fleshy and inferior and terminally unfuckable just like you all are."
Of course, no one bought my joke. Using my EDP to steady myself, my Logis Acceleritas were quick to pick out important details from the pedestrians.
Emotion-Dampening Protocols (EDP) active at 2% maxload
Judging from finger movement, civilians are dialling the PRT hotline number…
From recent meet-and-greets on social media, patrol routes suggest PRT First responder to be: Assault (38.5%), Battery (38.5), Armsmaster (23%)…
Civilians are conversing with PRT operators…
'Metal suited man marching around in the city plaza. / Scary gas mask guy in red robes strolling around the square.'
'No, he doesn't have any weapons. / He's a cape, how would I know what his weapons are?'
'Are you sure you don't want me to record him or something? / I gotcha, getting the heck outta here.'
Good… the heroes should be on their way in a few more minutes. Just as planned.
They got a lot of things wrong, but at least they got the most important thing right: I certainly cut an imposing figure.
Cloaked in the Mars-Red robe of the Magos, the stern metal fists of my Mark I arms peeked out of red sleeves. Meanwhile, my legs were amputated at mid-thigh to make way for imposing trunks of cold metal and gears that ended with solid boot-like fee. Topped off by my gasmask and a chestplate made of heat-treated junkyard steel, it gave me quite the foreboding silhouette… and with the toughness to match as well. All four limbs, my pelvis, about three-fourths of my spine, and both of my eyes were now immensely-resilient augmentics. Some rudimentary blood oxidizer organs that I was able to fabricate would sustain me even if my heart and lungs were destroyed.
I was becoming less and less of a human with machine limbs, and more of a machine in human form, and it feltgood.
All it took was more than 24 hours of self-surgery. It was difficult even with super-precise cyborg arms, but it was worth it, because the most important part was feeling comfortable in your own drip.
"You must be Magos." The curious voice of a mature woman called out to me, and I looked towards the source.
There sitting in the shade at a cafe's al fresco was a shapely blonde woman in a sharp navy suit, her generous breasts filling out her jacket while her pencil skirt covered much of her thick pantyhose clad thighs. Unfortunately, she was an inferior meat female, and thus, sexually uninteresting to me. But that wasn't why I called ahead and set up a face-to-face meeting. It was because I was going to be found out by the PRT sooner or later, and I preferred that it would be on my terms. A very good cape-lawyer who can be physically present in the city was a major advantage.
"Yes. And you must be attorney Dallon." I affirmed- the harsh modulation on my voice made her raise a blonde eyebrow.
"...You're certainly prompt." She noted with a small smile on her lips as I stared her down with glowing red bionic eyes.
Microexpressions on the corner of her lips indicate a fake smile.
She is hiding her surprise.
Was expecting a security escort, and a weaker and less physically-imposing tinker.
A less unsettling one too.
"I should be." I coolly agreed. "Iampaying you a hundred and thirty dollars a minute."
"Having some buyer's remorse?" She quipped- still fakely smiling.
None whatsoever. I believe your expertise is worth every cent. That's why I insisted on paying you quadruple your regular fee." My modulated voice explained to her, and to which, she just hummed non committedly- her eyes just glanced away as she sipped her coffee.
Is flattered, but also suspicious. However, also slightly desperate.
Cursory data-divination from approximated credit scores and from outside local economic factors had suggested dwindling finances in the past financial quarter…
… her current disposition favours that conclusion.
Her family's well-being is now tied to my continued employment of her: She will be motivated to legally protect me…
… until someone else comes with a better financial deal.
That was acceptable. I only needed her until I could make my own connections, because actual knowledge of law was secondary to having friends in high places after all. Besides, I can upgrade my Cranial Implants to the point that I can memorise the law of every country down to the letter, as well as every precedent, case analysis, and which strippers the lawyers favoured in their off-hours. The knowledge of law wasn't what I required, it was a friendly face of an unenlightened human to do my dealings with other unenlightened humans.
"Well." Carol Dallon hummed as she set down her empty coffee cup, "Let's get this show on the road. I have your documents right here and ready to be filed."
She patted her black suitcase.
"Allow me to double-check." I held out my hand, and she handed the folder to me. Quickly flipping through the papers, I let new bionic eyes do its work. Calling on my recently upgraded Cranial Implants, I mentally established a connection to the computer back in my shack.
Establishing Noospheric connection to main cogitator…
Parity Check Complete: Soft-copy and Hard-copy match 100%
Everything seems to be in order…" I notified her- handing back the folder, "I'll wait right here until business is concluded."
"I called ahead, this shouldn't take long." Carol confirmed as she stood up. Then the shapely blonde began strutting towards the cursed temple of the IRS across the plaza- her curvaceous ass filling out her pencil skirt. I held back a frown of disgust, because despite being made of so much biological mass, it had a great form factor. My future gynoids will have amazing asses, thanks to Carol's motherly figure. But with her disappearing into the building, I was left alone at the cafe…
Or at least, I acted like I was.