Back in yet another illustrious Industrialist city, Lee sat alone inside the luxurious dressing room of a swanky cabaret owned by someone who just couldn’t resist having a foreign species perform in their club. A Big Cheese who owned the joint knew about Lee’s status as an entertainer, and saw the chance to make enough Moolah to shoot him up to Glockstar status by the end of the night. While donning an enchanted silver ring around his horn, Lee took his sweet time getting prepared for his big show.
‘Y’know, it’s almost a shame that the performances can’t be done in full for these missions… All that rehearsal, and hyping up the show just to leave those schmucks high and dry,’ Lee sighed in disappointment as he idly primped himself in front of the vanity. ‘Remind me again, you have a plan to make sure we don’t look like a cursed act when we take our show on the road, right?’
‘Yes, we’ve made sure to set things up far in advance to make it all seem coincidental. We’ll keep watch if they start getting suspicious,’ Feng’s voice reverberated within the young Nilijin’s head, earning an arched brow of intrigue.
‘I think I can already predict the Magog On the March headlines now. Superstition spreads as exotic entertainers bring a plague of power outages throughout Mudos! Journalists have a way of stitching together pieces of an incomplete puzzle,’ Lee retorted while brushing his claws through the luscious short black wig he donned.
‘Your suspicion is justified, Agent P.L.; we’re expecting journalists to be all over the story once a pattern gets picked up. Which is why we’ve arranged to pull a few strings, and make it look more like it was someone else’s doing. Do you recall our ‘clients’ boasting about how your show will put them a peg above their business rivals?’ The cartel leader hinted, a slight mischievous tone laced in his question much to Lee’s amusement.
‘I see…~ So it’s going to not just be sabotage, but a setup! Like knocking down a beehive and blaming it on a bunch of wasps,’ He chuckled lowly while reclining in the fine leather upholstery of the chair he sat in. ‘I guess that’s one way to keep the press off our asses. It’d sound a hell of a lot more believable to the Magog, I’d say.’
‘Just make sure that all of the slaves escape from the facility. We’ve only got one chance per venue to do these massive rescue missions,’ Feng cautioned, diverting Lee’s focus back onto the plan.
‘Obviously. Because everyone knows murderers have a tendency to return to the scene of the crime, after all,’ Lee rolled his eyes with a huff through his nose, stopping to take a sip of his complimentary champagne. ‘Right then, so just basically perform like I’m not anticipating an orchestrated calamity. Got it.’
‘And for odd’s sake, do NOT cause a fire like the last time. Just because the audience members smoke enough to be blamed for causing it, doesn’t mean you should also make yourself any more suspect!’
The cyan Nilijin rolled his eyes with a scoff, taking a quick drag of the Lung-Buster cigarette before snuffing it out in the nearby ashtray.
‘It’s not like I spit my alcohol at that one Glukk on purpose! That Slig was just holding the lighter up at the wrong place at the wrong time,’ He argued back dismissively, already perusing the many different cosmetics of his personal makeup kit that was situated on the vanity. ‘Now, shoo! I need to put my face on and everything before the show starts.’
Lee can already imagine Feng’s look of utter annoyance as he rolls his eyes, and rubs the temples of his head just from the sound of a grumble echoing out within his mind.
‘Good luck out there, Agent P.L. Knock ‘em dead,’ Feng bid before his voice finally faded out, leaving the other in peace to do as needed.
