Southville was one of Concord's three districts, located in the southernmost part of the city. It was notable for being divided into two parts: one was overground, while the other remained hidden and was located underground. The hidden part of Southville could be accessed from certain places, such as the basement of Marcel's bar.
The other two districts were the central district, known as Como, and the northern district, referred to as Norwich.
Speaking of Concord itself... This city was the capital of the country. Interestingly, it had the same name as the country — Concord. The country and the capital had the same name.
There was a lot to say about it. For example, one of the nicknames given to the capital by the most famous scientist of the last century was the City of Sin. Although in private meetings, he mentioned another nickname — the Grave of Sin. But almost no one knew about this.
The name stuck, and even the townspeople called their homeland that, and not without reason.
Of course, it is better not to find out about such things, but if you ask how Concord is described by beings from other parts of the world...
"Rat trap!"
"Cockroach breeding ground..."
"Cage."
"...Zoo."
In general, this is how many people described the city and the country as a whole, especially in the lands where Fortitude thrived or the 'Commonwealth of Bonds' flourished...
But it was not customary to talk about this. In this city, some things were better left unknown...
For your own safety, of course.
"Hey, you there...! Move it!"
A pair of two-meter-tall guards clad in heavy dark blue armor stood in front of tall black gates.
'Dice Security' — that was the logo on their armor.
Further away from the gates were thick walls covered with electrified barbed wire. As if that weren't enough, a laser canopy stretched a couple of meters from the tops of the walls.
Surely there were those who had extraordinary jumping abilities. And surely, if they tried to cross the walls, they would be fried to a crisp.
"..." Mr. Nobody twisted the throttle and rolled the motorcycle forward.
The guards had just called out to the person in front of him. It was a man in dark glasses, in an expensive armored SUV.
Most likely, this man was rich and quite influential...
"Denied! Get out of here!" the guard exclaimed irritably, throwing the man's documents through the window like a piece of trash.
"W-what?! You have no right, I'm...!"
"You wanna argue, freak?"
The guard picked up a long rifle and pointed it straight at the man. The weapon looked like a powerful railgun and constantly arced with blue electricity.
"...!"
Most likely, if he did something wrong or rashly hit the gas, his head would instantly be blown to smithereens.
"..." Deciding not to tempt fate, the man swallowed his humiliation and turned the car around.
A line of cars was already backing up among the cars driving back.
"Next!"
It was his turn. Hearing the command, he rolled his motorcycle forward, under dozens of sympathetic stares from the other side of the road.
Approaching the gate, one of the guards stood in front and stopped his motorcycle with his hand. Another came up close.
"Transmit your data to the checkpoint." He pointed to another person sitting in front of several transparent monitors. "State your reason for leaving the city... And reveal your face."
These guys were pressing him hard, stripping away any sense of comfort.
"Sir... My details and the purpose of my trip are completely confidential and cannot be disclosed."
The guards clearly did not expect such a response. They exchanged glances, and the one closest to him reached for his weapon.
"What the f..."
"But..." He lowered his helmet visor and smiled at the huge man. "Out of respect for you and the work you do, boys, I'll make an exception. I hope you won't turn me in..."
"..." The two men blinked suspiciously.
The face behind the visor was that of rather friendly and decent-looking Norwich native.
But they didn't let everyone through based on appearance alone...
"Hey, don't be shy, come closer." He beckoned to the one holding his motorcycle.
"If you're trying something…"
"Oh, no, no, I assure you, you'll definitely like it! You might like it so much that donuts during the workday will now seem like a bland snack!"
Without waiting for a response, he took the chip that Marcel had given him out of his pocket and held it up to the bracelet on his left wrist.
"..." The men watched with skeptical expressions and growing irritation.
They had already encountered similar clowns, and most often it ended with disciplinary action. Or, to put it simply, a beating.
"Now, now... There, it's ready! Look and tell me what you see!"
A hologram of a miniature map emerged from the bracelet, along with some lines of data.
"…"
"So what do you think this is?"
"Are you trying to fool us? It's some kind of outpost in the wasteland, but what good is that?!"
The irritation on the guards' faces became more apparent, and one of them was already fiddling with the electric baton on his belt.
"Aha! I'm glad we're on the same page. Now pay close attention..."
He zoomed in on the miniature map so that the figures of living creatures became visible. Then he zoomed in as far as possible and focused on the face of one of the creatures.
"Now... Tell me, what do you see?" he said with a satisfied smile.
"..."
The huge men's eyebrows shot up, and something began to dawn in their eyes.
"I'll tell you what it is... It's Dirty Baal."
Without waiting for their reaction, he moved on to the next creature.
"And this is Dirty Baal." He moved the map again. "...And this is Dirty Baal too!"
"…"
While their eyes were practically popping out, he moved dozens of times across the map, searching the base for creatures the drones had detected.
"Here's Dirty Baal, another Dirty Baal. More, more, and more... I don't want to waste your time, so I'll say it right away. There are over a hundred Dirty Baals here! Almost like a real anthill."
"..." One of the guards unconsciously opened his mouth in amazement.
"I agree, it looks terrible... But you know what's really cool here?"
He unzipped his motorcycle jacket and pointed to his mercenary patch.
"Black... Gold?"
"Yep. Now try putting the two together. A mercenary with cool guns... And a hundred Dirty Baals."
"Could it be..." The guards looked at each other, now certain of their understanding.
"That's right..." He smiled and turned off the map. "I'm going to slaughter every single one."
"..."
"So, guys, are you going to let me pass? Or would you rather eat donuts, knowing that these creatures are breeding right under your noses and spreading their filth all over the place?"
No answer was needed for such a rhetorical question. Everything was obvious.