#fazal

     Enzo wasn’t a spy, he was the last person to fit in a crowd unseen or blend in the shadows. His lips couldn’t stay tight for more than five minutes and he liked to make a show for everyone around him, except if he was stealing. Pickpocketing, was a whole other art form and usually didn’t require listening to boring people’s hardship-ridden stories and scouting for information that might be of any use to a superior or himself. Tonight at the Pale Stallion’s Club, though, the hacker planned a scheme he wouldn’t normally dare. It began as a hook up in a bar some year ago ( restroom stall, really ). Alcohol in his bloodstream, too much club noise and flare clouding his senses. He only wanted some fun, that night -- no names, no strings attached. Enzo still remembered vividly the name he found printed on the dropped driving license of his ‘stress relief’, so to say, left laying in the bathroom for the other to come and pick back up later, probably ( not that he gave a fuck ). Surprisingly, he found it in the databases of Pestilence too, right after collecting their nasty formulas and exposing them to the world.

            Fazal Khan.

     Little digging was needed afterwards and the hacker’s curiosity peaked enough for him to track his whereabouts on the 1st of March. Emails and texts were oh so easy to hack, though some were encrypted or delete almost immediately after reception, probably filled with vital information of Pestilence’s plans. But here Enzo was, standing on a barstool, clothes dark opposing his usual style with two drinks in hand and eyes on the target. The other man reeked of unanswered questions, about his parents, about their death, about his involvement with Pestilence. Death’s ranks were a learning experience for the hacker. All kinds of people helped their grand schemes, and though interrogation was never his forte, perhaps the other’s drunken lips liked to spill information. There were plethora of ways for extracting what one needed for those with rich imagination.

     Enzo approached Fazal and slid the drink on the table towards him. Smile was on his lips, a devilish one, the familiar thrill running through his veins. “Long time no see. Here to fuck someone else’s brain out tonight?” The hacker took a pack of cigarettes and pulled one swiftly, twirling it between his fingers and locking sights with his target. He would propose one back to his conversation mate, but instead he just threw the pack on the table for the other to serve himself.

Episode 1381: The Training at the Sacred Mountain!

Translator Notes:

Yeaaaah, this one’s punch line sounded better in the original Japanese.  The original text had Lyria reporting a Youkai “Oni Hi Oppai Ojiisan”, or a “'Demon Fire Boobs Old Man’ Monster”.  Japanese titles or names can often just be various words or characters smashed together with connections just understood from context, whereas in English you need connecting words like “of” or “with” that can make things waaaay more wordy than they’d otherwise need to be.