“God damn it all! Why the hell did that hostage have to get in the way of my bullet. Was she trying to prove that I’m turning into a monster?”
Having been stuck in traffic for an hour in this dry dusty town did nothing to improve the building anger at his situation. There was no denying it anymore he was turning into an ork or maybe a troll. Maybe it wasn’t obvious at an initial glance, but the signs were there.
“Hell, I was the only one not in the facility when the virus got released, but I’m the one mutating! Maybe Jax is too, but she looks to be turning into a elf if anything. Big deal, she loses some much needed weight! Cry me a god damn river!” he yelled to the bartender who probably didn’t understand a word.
Then there was that damn video that’s going viral. Stupid thing doesn’t even show me dodging bullets. Grace probably edited the video.
“Damn racist!” Roy yelled, slightly drunk.
The bartender looked up at that.
“That it. You out!” the large black bartender with a trace of troll mutation said in broken english.
Chugging his beer, Roy slammed the bottle into the bar and left.
Looking around, the rusted piece of junk he was driving was missing from the parking lot.
“Great, just great. Some bastard stole the truck, I stole. What else can go wrong tonight.” Roy thought.
Sure enough that was answered by some Igbo man driving a scooter next to him shouting “Wetalụ ayị ego ayị onye ocha.”.
Even if Roy hadn’t heard that line multiple times, he recognized the colors of an Area Boy. He wanted a bribe. You got to love Lagos, if nothing else it was predictable. Smiling Roy took out his commlink and pretended to hand it over, triggering the stun dongle as it made contact with the Area Boy’s hand.
A couple of kicks and a few more shocks from his commlink taser and Roy felt surprisingly better, after all he now had a ride, even if it was a piece of crap scooter. At least traffic was much easier to deal with in the small scooter.