1700 hours. Credenhill.
I've been staring at the same patch of sky for three hours. It's a clear evening in Credenhill, got a rare chance to relax after training. The sky's pink and orange now, nice sight for sore eyes. I bet Price and the others would've enjoyed it. I can't shake their faces, no matter how hard I try. Their eyes glazed over, their blood pooling together. Popping Zakhaev should satisfy me, but it doesn't. Fuck, I need a smoke, but I'm fresh out of Villa Clara's. Seems like they're the only things that can calm me down these days. Hell not calm, they just distract me, even temporarily. That and PT. I need to keep adding rounds every day. I'll be stronger than before.
1700 hours. Ikebukuro.
Sometimes I forget how huge this city is. During my run today I must've gone ballistic, before I knew it I was in strictly restricted territory with a thousand coppers. For 'tight security' they were pretty juiced up, they thought I was a tom instead of an intruder. Needless to say it was a doodle to get away. Still, hope VI and the others don't find out. If they do the higher ups won't be pleased, damn old geezers don't know how to have fun. All they do is gab up the clients for affordable rates, and then come to us going "Chodai chodai!" Fuckers could at least give me a decent nickname. Junko: genuine child. Oh the irony.
Damn, VI gets all the fun. (Again, what's with the weird nicknames?) She's supposed to be my partner but she's climbing the ranks faster than she climbs the walls. If it weren't for her cheeky Russian tongue she'd be running with the "likes of me". Fuck them, prejudice bastards. It's strange how all of my work stopped long enough for me to go on a run. I'm perfectly up for work, but nothing big has been thrown my way. All I've been getting is small things of Charlie to deliver to random bums. All imports, no exports. It's just a gut feeling, but maybe they're pushing me away from the factory while they cook up the big stuff? I need to get closer, but hopefully VI can get me some information.