The next day dawns swiftly, the Blazewood sun already fierce.
Kaori and I burned the midnight oil yesterday, hunched over the motel's creaky bed, crafting a meticulous blueprint for our "sun" project.
Every line, every calculation, is etched with precision—Kaori's genius shining through.
She's still at it this morning, perched on the bed, her cat ears twitching as she pores over the blueprint, ensuring no detail's amiss.
She's relentless, I think, admiring her focus.
I step into the room, a folded paper in hand, my tie loosened against the heat.
"Good news, Kaori," I say, catching her gaze.
"I secured a plot of land from Kasa for our building."
Kaori's green eyes widen, her twin tails flicking.
"How are we going to build it?" she asks, setting the blueprint aside.
I flash a smile, leaning against the doorframe.
"We've still got Rusty and his gang. They owe me a debt, and they're our workforce. Today's goal is set."
Time to make this real, I think, already picturing the construction zone.
---
The Blazewood heat is merciless, a furnace that turns my shirt into a damp rag.
Sweat beads on my brow as I sit on a crate at the construction site, tugging at my collar and sipping a juice box through a straw.
How does anyone stand this? I wonder, squinting against the sun's glare.
Kaori, beside me, is unbothered, her wide-brimmed hat shielding her from the rays.
Not a drop of sweat on her.
Damn, I envy Tyrens, I think, half-joking.
Sure, being a furry with claws and tails has its quirks, but at least they don't roast like a sunfish under these rays-ironic, considering our project's tied to the sun itself.
The digging's going smoothly, and I'm genuinely relieved. Rusty and his biker crew held up their end, hauling tools and breaking ground with surprising grit.
Under Kaori's precise instructions, the foundation's taking shape-on track to finish by next week.
Not bad for a gang of debtors, I think, watching them shovel dirt, their bikes parked in a dusty row.
A voice cuts through the clatter, not calling me by name but sharp enough to snag my attention.
"Hey, you."
I glance over my shoulder, and there she is-Caesar, leader of the Sons of Calydon, her green hair blazing in the sunlight, her sword hilt glinting at her side.
Her eyes lock on mine, a storm brewing in their depths.
Something's coming, I think, my calm holding but my senses sharpening.
Whatever Caesar wants, it's not a casual chat.
***
Looking back, I should've seen it coming.
I rolled into Blazewood, a supposed researcher, only to end up playing rock, paper, scissors with gang members and roping them into laying ground work for a building.
If that doesn't scream suspicious, I don't know what does.
I might as well have painted a target on my back, I think, my tie loose as I sit at a table in Blaze's Pit.
The pub's nearly restored, its neon sign buzzing brighter.
Burnice flits behind the counter, her whimsical singing floating over the clink of glasses as she mixes her nitro-charged drinks.
But my focus is on Caesar, standing before me, her expression carved from stone.
I've scoured her Zenless Zone Zero wiki catalogue, and this face-steely, unyielding-isn't in it. It's downright terrifying.
She's not here to chat, I think, my calm tested.
The Sons of Calydon loom behind her.
Luciana's piercing gaze and Lighter's grim scowl bore into me, their presence a silent threat.
I try a mildly awkward greeting,
"Uh, hey, nice to see you all," but Caesar's not amused. Her green hair catches the pub's dim light, her hand resting on her sword's hilt.
"What are you doing here?" she asks, her voice cutting like a blade.
"I'm a researcher," I start, but she interrupts, leaning closer.
"What kind of researcher does what you did?"
Fair point, I think, my mind racing. She grips her sword tighter.
"What are you really doing?"
I swallow, my luck better than most
but nowhere near Burnice's charmed existence.
This could go south fast, I think.
With a sigh, I shift to serious mode, planting my hands on the table.
"Like I said, my partner and I are researchers headed to Scott Outpost in Papago Hollow. We stopped here for a break, but our car got wrecked in that gang fight-Burnice can back me up. Check my credentials if you want; they're legit.
"We stayed because plans changed, and I ran that game to scrape together cash. Our budget's not exactly generous."
I carefully avoided bringing up the subject of the construction.
Caesar's eyes narrow, weighing my words. She's not buying it fully, I think, but I seize the moment.
Turning to Luciana, I add, "While we're at it, can I request a service from you folks?"
Let's turn this around, hoping to shift the conversation.
---
Back at the construction site, the Blazewood sun blazes, dust swirling around the digging zone.
Kaori, her wide-brimmed hat shielding her cat ears, looks up as I approach, my shirt still damp from earlier.
"How's the construction going?" I ask, wiping my brow.
"Everything's fine," she says, her twin tails flicking.
"Just need to start building now. Where'd you go?"
I flash a grin, leaning against a crate.
"Dealing with the Sons of Calydon. Managed to secure a nice deal."
More than they know, I think, my plan is taking shape.
"I've figured out our next course of action, Kaori. We're moving forward."
***
In the neon-lit haze of Blaze's Pit, Michael and Kaori sat at a worn table, the pub's air thick with the scent of nitro cocktails and fried food.
Burnice's laughter rang from the bar, her whimsical energy a stark contrast to Kaori's agitation.
She waved her hand, her cat ears pinned back, repeating,
"No, no, no!" Her twin tails twitched as she glared at Michael, who munched on a basket of fries, his tie loose, his demeanor unruffled.
She's losing it, he thought, nudging his phone toward her.
"Why not?" Michael asked, his voice calm, pointing to the screen displaying a critical component for their "sun" project-a rare Ether condenser.
Kaori's green eyes blazed with disbelief.
"You're insane!" she hissed, her tail flicking.
"This is impossible!" He's out of his mind, she thought, recognizing the part's importance but recoiling at its source: Ladas, New Eridu's infamous underworld auction.
Ladas was notorious on the Inter-Knot, a shadowy bazaar where the elite nobles and tycoons traded in illicit goods, from deadly narcotics to enslaved lives.
Its security was near-impenetrable, backed by elite mercenary groups. Kaori knew its reputation well.
"Isn't there another way?" she asked, her voice strained.
Michael shook his head, his expression steady.
"Only three places have this condenser: White Star Institute, TOPS, and Ladas. The Institute's out—we're on their hit list. TOPS is untouchable. Ladas is our only option."
No other way, he thought, watching her process the grim reality.
Kaori's ears drooped, her shoulders slumping as the truth settled.
"Even if we choose Ladas, how do we find it?" she asked.
"And the money—200 million Dennies at least! Dr. Lin's 'unlimited budget' won't stretch that far without an investigation."
Michael crunched another fry, his gaze fixed on her. A flicker of realization crossed Kaori's face—her eyes widened, her tail froze, and she trembled.
"No way," she muttered, her voice barely audible.
"You're not thinking what I think you're thinking."
Michael finished the last fry, wiped his hands, and leaned forward, his voice low.
"We're going to steal it." It's the only path, he thought, his calm unshaken.
Kaori's jaw dropped, her fear confirming she understood the perilous stakes.
---
Inside Piper's truck, parked on a dusty Blazewood side street, Caesar sat in the driver's seat, the Sons of Calydon's emblem glinting on her jacket.
She held a crumpled paper, her green hair catching the dim light as she recalled her recent conversation with Michael.
Luciana lounged beside her, her sharp eyes fixed on the road ahead, her silence heavy.
Caesar's mind replayed Michael's words from Blaze's Pit.
He'd leaned across the table, his tie loose, his voice steady.
"I hear you're having issues with your travel routes," he'd said.
"Slow deliveries, roads crawling with Ethereals."
He knew too much, she'd thought, her grip tightening on her sword.
Michael had offered a deal: a safer, faster route to boost their deliveries in exchange for a private word with Luciana.
What's his angle? she'd wondered, reluctantly agreeing.
Now, Caesar turned to Luciana, the paper-a map of the new route-crinkling in her hand.
"What did he ask you for after we got this?" she asked, her voice firm.
Luciana shrugged, her expression cool.
"Just a name," she said, brushing a strand of hair from her face.
She's holding back, Caesar thought, sensing the lie.
But Luciana's mind churned with fury.
How dare he blackmail me?" she seethed. Michael had cornered her after the meeting, his calm unnerving.
"I know about your family," he'd said, his words like a blade.
"Help me get some tickets, or they'll know where you are." All she had to do was find someone who could help secure entry to the event—likely Ladas, given his scheming.
He's playing with fire, she thought, her fists clenching.
She'd sworn to herself: if Michael's route was a lie or he pulled anything shady, she'd make him pay.
No one threatens me and walks away, she vowed.
Caesar folded the paper, her eyes narrowing.
Michael's trouble, she thought, the weight of their deal pressing on her.
Whatever he was planning, the Sons of Calydon wouldn't be caught off guard.