act15d0

(Think, c'mon. Is my only option to throw fists?)

Hmph.

You're fast.

(Anthony... rescued me?)

I might not know who you are, but you shouldn't be doing this. Not this, right in front of my eyes.

Heh heh, death's knocking and you still care about other folk. You're a real gentleman, Mr. Anthony.

(When did he—?!)

Heheh. Here, miss. Don't be scared of me. Just blame it on your rotten luck.

Relax. Asides from Anthony, we don't wanna kill nobody. You just take a lie-down.

(Shit!)

Guh...

(He got me...)

(I can't—think clear...)

...let's...you a warm welcome...Anthony...

...dead...

I didn't expect you to be this good of a cook. Wow.

Hm-hmm! Betcha didn't.

Anyway, she got caught up in another assassin's attempt and lost consciousness, then...?

That must've sucked.

Yeah, unlucky her.

So how'd this assassination pan out?

We know Anthony must've won, but this was an attempt on his life in a prison. Couldn't have gone without comment.

Yup. But because Robin was out during that time, we have to go from Kafka's side.

Ooh, but didn't Kafka get knocked out by that convict too?

Oh, she sandbagged that one. So she says.

Ah... okay, that adds up. It does seem like her style, yep.

Talk. Whose people sent you?

Heh... heh... you wouldn't... know.

...He's out.

These people really were...

...Fine. Thinking about it now won't do anything. Let's see how these prisoners are first.

Looks like none of them crossed the river.

And then this girl...

I don't know who you are, but you helped me back there...

Thank you, girl stranger.

You can call me Kafka.

Hm? You're not out?

Uh. Don't move. Just shift a bit to the right. Block the monitors.

Is this okay?

Golden. Surveillance shouldn't see me now.

Lucky for me, I checked around while I was cleaning the rooms.

Who are you?

I told you, call me Kafka. I'm here to help you.

But this is a real snafu. I was gonna leave you a slip of paper and call it there. Didn't expect those guys to suddenly go off.

What in the world is happening?

Not the right place to talk about that. Know anywhere good?

...The jailers should be coming over to see what the ruckus was. We can go to the clinic. That'll work.

What in blue blazes?! Anthony, what the hell are you doing?!

That's what I'd like to ask, Barton.

These prisoners snuck in with the intent to kill me.

What the hell are you doing?

What?!

It's the truth, Superintendent Barton. I witnessed Mr. Anthony fight off two inmates.

What? Weren't you watching them?!

The two of them knocked me out. They were quite... no, very strong.

Rgh. Good for nothing.

How do you want me to explain all this to the Warden?!

Let's get a grip on the present first, Barton.

These two are the assassins. You can deal with them.

A—hem. Right, but Mr. Anthony, you see, we can't just take you at your word for all of this...

I know.

I've suffered minor injuries. I need a trip to the clinic first. They knocked everyone else unconscious. It might behoove you to send them all to the clinic too.

Once we're there, I will explain things in fine detail.

Alright, alright.

What are you bunch navel-gazing for? Throw these two bodies in the morgue, and drag all of THEM with you!

Y-Yes, sir!

Sir!

The jailers're all gone, Anthony.

What happened? I saw them all looking perturbed some.

I'd like to know too.

Alright. This place is safe, young Kafka.

Domma is my friend. If I could call anyone in this prison trustworthy, it'd be her.

First off, drop that 'young.' I'm just some random li'l shortie.

Apologies, Miss Kafka.

Man, okay, you. For a prisoner, you're politer than all the people outside.

This's how Anthony is. He don't hold back courtesy for anyone.

Yeah, I get it. You look like a haymaker, but you've got manners for days too. Not surprising everyone else in here thinks you're a juggernaut.

You flatter me.

Well, then. My turn to ask the questions. You're apparently here to aid me. That means you know where my assassins came from, I suppose?

Uhh... before that, I need to ask you something first.

Please do.

You know what your family—or I guess your dad is the one Simon Co.'s named after—anyway, do you know exactly what happened there?

As long as you do, I can explain things a lot simpler.

My father was detained on more than ten charges. I know the circumstances couldn't have been simple, but I've had no time to find out concretely.

Okay, you know, yeah. That's good enough for me. Um, Simon Co., uh... thanks to ille... il... whawazzit?

Do you mean, 'illicit?'

Yeah, that! Illicit, smuggling, of Originium, goods! Anyway, the company got shut down, and the core members all went to prison.

So your whole family's serving in Bunkerhill City right now.

Anthony slams a fist onto the nearby table. Everything on top of it rattles off.

Anthony...

...I'm alright.

I prepared myself to hear this a long time ago.

I'm already happier than you could believe, knowing they're not dead.

Alright. Who sent them?

HydeBro.

HydeBro. So it was you.

Lemme just think. What did Silence say... Right, your family. The Simons. Were competing with them across some kind of line.

You were camping 50% of the profits each over this. And there was plenty of friction. So they always wanted to just camp your share too.

And then they did it. Pretty simple.

...HydeBro.