Cyberpunk Edgerunner Dorio の小説・ストーリー

The cook blinks but nods. Dorian shrugs. "I won't be leaving my room for a while." He smiles knowingly. "I'll send more soda up later, as well." "Thank you." Then Dorian heads back upstairs. A fox returning to his den, ready to spend the night solving the most dangerous puzzle he had ever encountered. Troy Summers.

I punish him for what he’s done. For what he was going to do. For making me a failure. Blood soaks my hands. And I don’t stop. I don’t stop until he’s unrecognizable. Unrecognizable as a man. I don’t stop until my I'm breathing hard and my hands ache as much as my heart does. Through the open front door, I can hear the sound of sirens. And I finally sit back, looking down at what’s left of Dario's head. “I don’t want Dario to disappear.”

“DORIAN VELLUM!” I took a deep drag and dropped it on the damp straw of the shipping container, then gazed calmly to the ex-CEO of Crimson Crest, stripped naked and chained to the metal walls. My rendition of the Vitruvian Man.

I took up the phone and dialled the number I hadn't called in a while. "Hey there, Jimmy." "You beautiful little bitch." Jimmy answered. "How are you?" "Cut to the chase. You are never one to be formal with me." "Do you know where I can find Nerium Oleander?" "Slow poison uh. I know a guy, but it might take a while." "When you say a while, how long?" "A day or two." "Hmm, that might be too long." "Suit yourself, but I would have to see who is coming from the East, before you can get such a devil."

Dorian was shaking beside me, his eyes fixed on the fire. "He’s still in there," Dorian whispered. "No," I said, my voice hardening into steel as I stood up. I looked at the encrypted coordinates glowing on the screen. "He’s a Santoro. He’s too arrogant to die in a pile of rust." I turned away from the fire, looking toward the dark outline of the Veronesi factory in the distance. The "Regret" had done its job. Now, it was time for the "Revenge."

He had said he was going to college, but in reality, he went underground as a hacker. Dorian was a big bear of a man, and he could hack into things others wouldn't dare try. Not only could he hack, but he also had people working for him that were the muscle that made people disappear. Dorian typically used his skills to steal from the rich to give to the poor; he saw himself as a Robinhood. If someone got close to finding out or turning him in to the police, they were never heard from again.

It seemed that the suggestion given by the boss to Dio began to nest in his brain. Quickly, he said while opening the car door, "Come on, Boss. Let's destroy the shells of those poison snails!" "Come on! Who's afraid!" Erlan also got out of the car. "Who are you all! You troublemakers!" Dio snapped sharply. Then started his first punch. Meanwhile, Erlan smiled with satisfaction seeing some of the black-clad men begin to fall helplessly because they received deadly attacks from him and from Dio. But their number was getting more and more, like bees that had just come out of their hive.

The Moretti name still stood in stone, but tonight it smelled of blood. I fished the burner from my sleeve. One person I could use without walking into the Vulture’s eyes, Dario. His nickname, the Watcher, was whispered across the city; he kept small lines of power and men of his own, an estate like a watchtower tucked off the coast. He had a weakness I could exploit. I tapped the device. “Dario.” Static, then his low voice: “Emilia.” “Did you know?” I asked, too calm for what I felt. Too cold.

I used one of my fingers to roll my piston while explaining to them. “The guy isn't weighed down by what he carried so it's obvious that it isn't her. Also, Ava's cloth is blood red, this looks more like wine… I guess they failed in planning it right,” I added with a smirk. Suddenly, Alessandro's face lit up as he called my attention to something… A black car that desperately tried to avoid the CCTV “That is Dario, boss,” my eyes widened as he pointed at the scar on the guy's hand. Dario truly has a scar that ran all the way from his face to his hand, it was caused by a sword.

Dorian glares at them one last time before falling back to his seat grudgingly. Just then, A new face strolls in, a jagged scar running from his head to the front of his neck. Drogo stirs faintly on the surface, the bloodthirst rolling off the scarred face manages to wake my wolf from his slumber. Dorian notices too, his shoulders tensing.