Having dealt with Azul, Alex almost instantly discarded from his mind all thoughts of that idiot who had so desperately yearned to prove his superiority that he had voluntarily lain down under the knife on the operating table of the mad Hojo. Alex sincerely believed that he was under no obligation whatsoever to remember the name of every short-sighted killer who came after his head.
At that moment all his thoughts were occupied exclusively with the choice of route: whether to climb upward on foot by the stairs or to make use of magic for instantaneous teleportation to the floor where the others were. However, the idea of teleportation immediately receded into the background the moment Alex recalled exactly what his friends were busy with right now.
Having not the slightest desire to go through the boring tour that he had already seen more than once in the original video game, Alex was absolutely certain: in real life this dull event would drag on far longer than five minutes, lasting for a considerably more extended period. That was precisely why his choice fell upon the stairwell — even if it meant losing time on the monotonous ascent up the endless steps.
Unlocking the heavy doors leading to the stairwell, Alex stepped forward, continuing carelessly to sing along to the music playing in his earphones. At that moment he was sincerely convinced that today's limit of troubles had been exhausted, that no one else would throw shit at the fan, and that his ascent to the 59th floor would pass absolutely without any problems.
However, as was usually the case in Alex's life, in such moments he always catastrophically erred. The moment he merely thought that the latest headache had been left behind and that no one would disturb him in the near future, reality immediately delivered a new blow. Barely had Alex managed to climb the steps to the 5th floor when a fresh series of troubles began in the form of yet another Deepground assault group that had once again been sent after his soul.
It all started with the heavy doors on the stair landing suddenly bursting open with a crash, and a large-calibre shotgun being fired point-blank straight into Alex's face. The shotgun blast merely clinked powerlessly against his skin. With a light motion of his hand brushing the flattened lead pellets from his face, Alex instantly seized the head of the stunned Deepground fighter and began slowly squeezing his fingers.
"Fuck, what the hell do all of you want from me again?! My wife doesn't work overtime just to clean up corpses after you!" Alex spat with dull irritation, with a crunch driving his fingers deep into the skull of the Deepground member.
The moment Alex's rage-filled shout rang out, throughout the entire stairwell there echoed the sharp sounds of doors being kicked in, immediately followed by the heavy rumble of hurried running and the metallic clatter of weapons. Wearily rolling his eyes, Alex sharply jerked his arm and tore out the Deepground member's head together with the bloodied spine in one piece of meat.
Seizing the end of this bloody bone pillar, he instantly transformed part of the slain assault trooper's body into an improvised flail. A moment later the entire stairwell filled with Deepground assault troopers who had come with only one purpose — to uncompromisingly carry out the combat directive rigidly embedded in the microchips sewn into their brains.
Once again foully cursing the fact that he had literally just changed into clean clothes, Alex furiously threw himself upon the Deepground members, beginning to swing the spine with the grinning head on the end in every direction as a gruesome striking weapon. This time Alex tried as hard as possible to avoid any chance of getting stained with foreign blood, yet this in no way hindered him from dealing with the attackers with particular, refined cruelty.
The higher Alex climbed the steps, the more mutilated flesh remained behind him. It even began to seem to him as though the Whisperers had decided to set upon him absolutely all the remaining reserves of rank-and-file Deepground members, solely in order to guarantee his elimination.
By the 15th floor the bone flail in Alex's hands had finally crumbled into dust, and he had to draw his karambit of hell-steel. Gradually beginning to tire of the banal hacking of a path upward, Alex switched to a more economical tactic — he began literally hurling Deepground members over the railings, allowing good old gravity to do all the dirty work for him.
Fortunately the stair landings were completely open, so Alex did not need to exert any particular effort to throw someone into the void: a light pushing impulse was enough, after which the next Deepground fighter flew downward, colliding with overloads that even their Mako-modified bodies were incapable of withstanding.
By the 30th floor Alex wearily scratched the corner of his eye when a random drop of blood fell on him from above. By this moment only his white gloves, a gift from his wife Alucard, had become densely stained with scarlet liquid, while all his new clothing still remained immaculately clean. Ruthlessly severing with the karambit the fingers of a Heavy who was clinging with his last strength to the railing above the abyss, Alex moved on, leaving behind stair landings piled high with mountains of corpses.
"For such lawlessness I am definitely owed solid compensation. And if not Lucifer, then Rufus will pay for everything — whether he wants to or not. I'll beat every single gil out of him," Alex said in a tired and discontented tone, pressing with all his strength the head of a Liquidator into the ridged metal steps with his foot.
Having dealt with yet another group of genetically modified idiots, Alex was immensely glad that he had timely cast a noise-suppression spell — thanks to which not a single sound from the slaughter taking place on the stairs penetrated beyond its limits. Having climbed to the 40th floor, Alex was strangling the next Deepground assault trooper with his bare hands, and a melancholy thought involuntarily flashed through his head: it would have been better if he had after all gone on the tour together with the others.
For then he could simply have relaxed, listened to Yuffie's endless grumbling as she would almost certainly have climbed onto his back out of boredom, heard yet another fiery propagandist tirade from Barrett whom Tifa would frantically be trying to stop…
Listened to Wedge's complaints about how hungry he was, Biggs's stupid comments, and watched Jessie once again deal both of them a hefty slap on the back of the head. Alex would not even have minded holding hands with Aerith and Tifa under Dean's discontented grumbling as the latter began tediously muttering that they had not come here for a stroll at all.
Even Claudia's stern voice urging everyone to hurry Alex would now have listened to with enormous pleasure — anything rather than deal with these endless fanatics from Deepground! With particular cynicism smashing the assault trooper's head against the ridged metal steps, Alex rose from his knees with a heavy, tired sigh. He sincerely hoped that it definitely could not get any worse, for only some 19 floors remained to the goal.
However he again catastrophically erred: the capricious goddess Themis once more turned her backside to him, mockingly chuckling over the next dirty trick she had prepared for him in advance. Barely had Alex stepped onto the last step of the 49th-floor landing when a barely audible thin whistle sounded from above, instantly followed by the deafening screech of tearing metal.
The entire metal staircase above Alex's head — all the way up to the 59th floor itself — had been cleanly severed by a single filigree blow! Barely had Alex managed even to curse properly at the bastard who had literally cut off his pedestrian path upward when from the upper tiers there echoed an arrogant and rolling female laugh.
Throwing his head back, Alex managed to make out the figure of a woman in a rather revealing combat outfit, with hair the colour of fresh blood and the exact same scarlet-red eyes. Instantly her name surfaced in Alex's memory: Rosso the Crimson, yet another elite fighter from the top of the Tsviets.
"When the hell are you all finally going to end?!" Alex spat with the deepest irritation, watching as Rosso at frenzied speed rapidly ran downward straight down the vertical wall.
At that moment Rosso was rapidly running down the vertical wall, with a crash driving her massive double-bladed sword straight into the concrete. On her face played a mad sadistic smile — the way a predator smiles when it has found itself a new curious toy. Habitually spinning the hell-steel karambit on his finger, Alex was already preparing to engage the elite Tsviets fighter in combat.
But at that same instant the shadow at Alex's feet trembled slightly, instantly taking on the clear outlines of a woman's silhouette with long hair cascading to the ground. Carefully looking at Rosso with her burning red eyes, Zhang Ya slightly narrowed them, firmly deciding to immediately eliminate the insolent girl who allowed herself to look at her husband that way. Having run down to the lower tier, Rosso forcefully pushed off from the wall and in mid-jump raised her double-bladed sword.
However at the very second when her weapon was supposed to meet Alex's karambit, a gigantic sheaf of dense black hair burst from his shadow. They instantly seized Rosso's arms in a death grip, tore the weapon from her paws and with a dry crack snapped it in half.
Alex only managed to blink and for a fraction of a second glance aside toward the doors — and when he turned back, Rosso was already beheaded. Her unnaturally twisted arms and legs had been cruelly crucified with the fragments of her own weapon, which nailed the dead body clean through to the marble wall.
Rosso's abdomen had been deeply ripped open, from which thick scarlet blood was unhurriedly seeping, while right from the stump of her neck blood-red spider lilies were blooming luxuriantly. All that remained for Alex was to watch with an embarrassed face as the eerie black hair slowly retreated back into the shadow, leaving behind on the wall a single short word written in fresh blood: "No."
Seeing before him this rather eerie and surreal picture, Alex at that specific moment sincerely did not want to know exactly what was going on in the head of his eternally silent wife — even though until this moment he had always effortlessly understood absolutely any of her thoughts. He did not even want to ponder why Zhang Ya, who had previously never interfered in his battles with such opponents, had suddenly decided to seize the initiative.
In the end Alex decided to settle on the safest option: Zhang Ya had simply grown the tiniest bit jealous. Folding his palms before his chest in a short respectful prayer before Rosso's remains and mentally wishing her luck in trying to survive in the Red City, Alex wearily cracked his stiffened neck and thoughtfully looked at the floor number on which he had been so unceremoniously stopped. For a brief moment the thought even flashed through his head that what had happened could quite well be considered a fortunate coincidence.
"Whoa, that was real luck! Since I ended up here anyway, it's the perfect time to drop in on my new friends the Turks and shake even more gil out of them for the work done. I think that will be more than fair," Alex said in a thoughtful tone, continuing unhurriedly to spin the karambit on his index finger and contemplating the large number "49" on the wall, over which Rosso was now picturesquely crucified.
Brushing the remnants of foreign blood from his fingers, Alex with a habitual motion tucked the hell-steel karambit behind his back and pulled Tseng's keycard from his pocket. Pressing the plastic card to the reading scanner, Alex pushed the heavy doors and carefully stepped forward, trying not to accidentally step into the thick scarlet puddle that was rapidly accumulating under the crucified body of the slain Rosso.
Finding himself on the 49th floor, Alex slightly raised an eyebrow, noticing with interest that the strict layout of this place somehow strongly resembled the endless office premises in the Oldest House. Freezing in place, Alex pressed his index finger to his chin and began lightly tapping it, trying to orient himself as to exactly where he should go.
For, as far as he remembered, the 49th floor did not belong entirely to the Turks' unit — it was clearly divided into several special sections, one of which was allocated to elite SOLDIER for their rapid response. Seeing before him only standard offices with glass partitions where unsuspecting ordinary clerks were completely absorbed in routine work, Alex narrowed his eyes for a moment. And immediately recalled that even before the start of the assault he had managed in advance to download onto his smartphone a detailed map of absolutely every floor of the building.
Pulling the phone from the back pocket of his jeans, Alex instantly opened the schematic of the 49th floor. Unhurriedly running his finger across the touch screen, Alex was searching specifically for Tseng's personal office, for he was sacredly convinced that his new acquaintances from Shinra's security service were right there at the moment. Having found the required section B3, located right next to the virtual training hall, Alex put the phone back into his pocket and sarcastically rubbed his palms.
"My dear gil, daddy is coming for you! And if they dare not pay me, I'll simply smash their entire office to fucking hell," Alex said with sincere delight in his voice and with an almost dancing gait set off in the direction of Tseng's personal office.
Humming a joyful melody, Alex carelessly skipped past the office premises, paying absolutely no attention to the people absorbed in their routine work. Some office employees curiously raised their heads when an unfamiliar guy with a song raced past their glass partitions.
However they only managed to make out his back in a strict black shirt with sleeves rolled up to the elbows, a shoulder holster for two pistols, and a small curved karambit hanging on his belt behind his back. Seeing such equipment, all the clerks without exception took Alex for one of the Turks' operatives who had just returned from a hard long mission and was now heartily rejoicing at the fulfilment of the order.
They had long grown accustomed to such oddities here — many had more than once crossed paths in the corridors with Reno, who was famous for his specific character and a very eloquent stock of colourful insults for anyone stupid enough to irritate him. Seeing Alex swaggeringly open doors with the aid of a service keycard, no one paid him the slightest further attention, preferring to concentrate on reports.
Passing section B1, Alex stopped for a moment: an excellent prank plan had matured in his head. In this section was located the SOLDIER barracks from 3rd to 2nd class — which meant that a couple of potential problems could be neutralised in advance and at the same time Tseng could be thoroughly annoyed, for the electronic entry logs of his keycard would instantly be saved in the unified security system.
Pressing the keycard to the scanner, Alex stepped inside the premises with a sarcastic smile on his face. Literally a couple of minutes later Alex emerged back into the corridor with an extremely satisfied expression on his physiognomy, and on his snow-white gloves were visible clear traces of fine brown powder.
"Heh-heh-heh, the prank succeeded splendidly! I'm dying to see Tseng's face when a flushed Heidegger will be yelling at him with foam at the mouth because all the pressed SOLDIER clothing has been densely sprinkled with hot pepper powder and mixed with glue," Alex said in a cheerful tone, blowing the remnants of the evidence of his little crime from his fingers.
"Sigh…" — from the shadow at Alex's feet rang out a quiet sigh filled with deep resignation from Zhang Ya — her husband had once again behaved like a naive foolish child.
"My love, well why are you sighing so heavily? It wasn't me who did it at all, but Tseng," Alex responded with a laugh, continuing carelessly to hop along the corridor in the direction of the required section.
Zhang Ya said nothing more and only silently closed her scarlet eyes. Alex himself was in an excellent frame of mind, despite all the shit in the form of the Deepground fighters who had popped up that the Whisperers had so generously poured onto his head. Alex simply could not hide a satisfied smile: it had been a very long time since he had pulled a prank on anyone on such a scale, and the successful diversion instantly lifted his mood.
Continuing carelessly to hum a cheerful melody and hop as he walked, Alex stopped by section B2. As far as he remembered from the schematic, this part of the floor was used as a training hall and rest room for the personnel. With a light motion of his fingers Alex decided not to linger here and continued on his way further.
After all, the prepared prank had already gathered momentum, and everything else was merely the inevitable cheerful consequences. Advancing forward along the corridor, Alex finally saw the coveted section B3 and its transparent glass doors, behind which another chain of office premises was visible.
At that very same time in section B3 — in the public relations offices allocated for audit — in his personal office Tseng was completely absorbed in work with important documentation. He thoughtfully read the lines of the reports, after which with precise movements he affixed sweeping signatures where required.
The moment he finished work on the next sheet, Elena standing behind his back deftly took the signed document and immediately laid the next one for consideration. Elena acted like a true high-class secretary, with filigree precision sorting the paper flows into the necessary folders.
Setting aside the next thick folder, Elena shifted her gaze to Reno, who was swaggeringly sprawled on a soft leather sofa and with undisguised laziness examining the ceiling. Heaving a heavy sigh at the sight of this notorious idler, Elena looked in Rude's direction. The latter was seated at the table with his habitual impassive facial expression, slightly leaning back against the chair back and calmly interlacing his fingers on his knees.
Lying on the sofa, Reno emitted yet another demonstrative and maximally loud sigh so that his presence and boredom would definitely not go unnoticed. Hearing this sound, Tseng slowly lowered his expensive fountain pen back into the inkwell and unhurriedly turned his head toward the subordinate.
"You know, Reno. It seems to me it wouldn't hurt you at all to rest a little," Tseng said in a calm and even tone, placing his palms over the next document and interlacing his fingers.
"Nope… I'm lying here just fine…" Reno responded in a lazy drawn-out voice, continuing stubbornly to burn a hole in the ceiling with his gaze.
"Boss, at the moment I'm interested in something completely different," Rude spoke up, turning on his chair toward Tseng.
"And what exactly interests you?" Tseng asked with a light touch of curiosity, shifting the same imperturbable gaze onto Rude.
"Regarding your decision to give the keycard to him. Are you sure that was really a good idea?" Rude said with clear doubt in his voice, sincerely curious whether it had been worth handing their service pass to Alex and his group at all.
The moment this question sounded, Tseng thoughtfully hummed, interlacing his fingers under his chin and slightly resting on them. Even Reno slightly raised himself on his elbows, first looking at Rude in surprise and then shifting a questioning gaze onto Tseng. Standing behind the boss's back, Elena slightly pressed her lips together, gripping the thick folder of documents even tighter in her hands.
At that moment Tseng was rapidly pondering absolutely everything that he and the operatives had managed to learn about Alex. They had already reliably confirmed that he and his companion Dean were two more of the last surviving representatives of the great race of the Ancients. But unlike Aerith, who was distinguished by boundless kindness and possessed no destructive combat power, Alex and Dean represented a completely different, immeasurably more dangerous type of people.
Thoughtfully looking ahead, Tseng lowered his hand and began thoughtfully tapping a finger on the smooth desktop, continuing to sink deeper into his own reflections. From the words of the returned Reno and Rude after the successful transfer of the service keycard, Tseng had learned an alarming detail: Alex had immediately and effortlessly seen through their cunning design.
He had instantly understood that Rufus was counting on using him to arrange total chaos inside the Shinra building in order to remove his own father from the post of President. At the same time the main stake in the Vice-President's plan was built on the calculation that Alex's attention would be entirely focused on Aerith's condition and the rescue of the orphan children who had ended up in Hojo's nightmarish laboratory.
In the depths of his soul Tseng himself was not entirely certain of the effectiveness of such a plan, conditioned by too great a number of "what if" assumptions and blind hope for luck. Alex was far too wild and unpredictable a card in this entire dangerous game, always acting contrary to any logical forecasts.
Ceasing the monotonous tapping of his finger on the table, Tseng froze for a brief moment, and on his usually impenetrable face there flashed a barely noticeable smile. After all, Rufus's plan from the very beginning had been calculated precisely on the fact that uncontrolled large-scale disorder would break out inside the Shinra headquarters.
"So, Boss? What are we going to do if everything finally goes off plan?" Reno asked, sitting up on the sofa and leaning slightly forward, carefully looking at Tseng.
"'We' are going to do nothing. Everything that was required we have already done. All that remains for us is carefully to clean up the consequences," Tseng answered in a calm and imperturbable tone, again reaching for his fountain pen.
"And still I think… Was it really so necessary?" Rude spoke up, slowly rocking on the chair and unhurriedly surveying everyone present in the office.
"Yes. Absolutely necessary. As the Vice-President aptly expressed it: in order to clean up the mess in one's own house it is not at all necessary to apply personal efforts — if there are those who will gladly take on this dirty work instead of us," Tseng answered with a restrained smile on his face, returning to the postponed work with the papers.
"What a curious philosophy! So Rufus is indeed ready to pay generously for my work," rang out Alex's sudden cheerful voice, spreading throughout the entire premises in a loud and ironic echo.
Hearing Alex's unexpected voice, Reno and Rude instantly jumped up from their places and began anxiously looking around, while Elena reflexively hid behind the massive back of Tseng's chair. Tseng himself only slightly raised an eyebrow and unhurriedly lowered his fountain pen back into the inkwell. Reno instantly moved his hand behind his back, tightly gripping the ridged handle of his electric baton and intently peering at the closed doors.
A moment later from that side rang out Alex's cheerful singing, which, however, quickly died away. Already preparing for the guest carelessly to step across the threshold of the office, the four Turks widened their eyes in complete shock when they saw a hand in a snow-white glove smoothly pass straight through the solid wall. On the back of its palm a crimson magical pentagram brightly glowed. Following the hand, Alex himself emerged from the thickness of the concrete into the light with a sincere cheerful smile on his face.
Seeing these physiognomies literally frozen in astonishment, Alex simply could not hide the mischievous merriment in his eyes — this picture instantly reminded him of that day when his wife Alucard had decided in exactly the same way to scare the mercenaries from the Bernadotte squad to death.
Continuing carelessly to smile, Alex stepped forward, picked up a chair standing nearby and unhurriedly dragged it after himself. Passing the stunned Reno, Alex with a light precise motion poked his index finger straight into the Redhead's forehead, forcing him to collapse like a sack back onto the leather sofa. At such an unceremonious gesture Reno only irritably grumbled, leaning deeper into the back and malevolently folding his arms on his chest.
Having dragged the chair right up to Tseng's table, Alex calmly sat on it and with absolute nonchalance threw his legs in heavy boots straight onto the polished desktop. Surveying those present with an expressive gaze, Alex looked at the hiding Elena and expressively tapped a finger on the empty ceramic mug, unambiguously hinting that he urgently needed fresh coffee.
At this insolent gesture Elena became slightly flustered and fearfully looked at Tseng in search of support. Tseng, however, only calmly raised his hand and slightly waved his fingers, giving the subordinate to understand that she should fulfil the request. Pressing her lips together, Elena quickly convinced herself that it was better she go brew coffee right now than remain in this cramped room in the company of an unpredictable monster. Casting a quick glance at the hastily departing Elena, Alex shifted his gaze back to Tseng, on whose face the habitual icy imperturbability had again frozen.
"So, let's continue right from the place where you were reasoning about dirty work, my boy Tseng. And I warn you right away: my professional services cost very, very dearly," Alex said in a calm tone, beginning unhurriedly to roll a hellish coin between his fingers.
"Ha! Why the hell should we pay you at all?! You already cleaned out my personal account to zero, you bastard! I can't even afford normal coffee now and am forced to gulp this disgusting swill from plastic cups!" Reno spat, restraining dull rage, clenching his teeth until they crunched from resentment, barely holding back the desire to throw himself at Alex.
"That was a modest and perfectly fair payment for your life, Reno. As, for that matter, for Rude's life. As for Tseng — that was merely a preventive measure so that he wouldn't act up once too often," Alex answered in an extremely nonchalant tone, continuing to spin the hellish coin on his index finger and not even deigning Reno with a glance.
"You fucking bitch…" Reno hissed through clenched teeth, feeling how from this lazy tone of Alex's the anger inside him boiled even stronger.
"Enough, Reno… Let's return to your words. What exactly do they mean?" Tseng spoke in a calm and authoritative tone, briefly waving his hand to make the subordinate fall silent, after which he again scrutinisingly looked at Alex.
"Exactly what they mean. From the very moment I found myself in this fucked-up dump that you proudly call 'Shinra', I personally sent 156 Deepground members to the next world. Plus two more idiots from the elite Tsviets squad," Alex answered with a satisfied smile on his face, tossing the hellish coin into the air and deftly catching it with his palm.
Hearing the figures voiced by Alex, Tseng only with enormous difficulty managed to hold the habitual imperturbable mask on his face. Rude quietly snorted, not in the least surprised by such a layout — as though everything happening was absolute norm for him. Reno only quietly snorted, once again with trepidation recalling how truly terrifying Alex actually was and how wildly lucky he himself had been each time simply to survive after their meetings.
Folding his hands before himself, Tseng intently looked at Alex while in his head rapidly raced memories of the secret information that Rufus had previously sent him. He knew perfectly well that the Deepground members were ideal killing machines created in the secret laboratories on the lowest levels of Sector 0. Even the most ordinary rank-and-file Deepground fighter had passed through a continuous chain of cruel genetic experiments that had brought him in level of physical strength and combat skills close to elite 2nd-class SOLDIER.
Briefly blinking, Tseng shifted his gaze to the glowing screen of his terminal where an open folder with a secrecy stamp was still displayed. His gaze fell on the file entitled "Tsviets". Tseng knew: the Tsviets were the elite of the elite inside Deepground. And not only because they had survived the most sadistic modifications that had turned them into the strongest weapon of Shinra since the times of Sephira and Genesis.
And now he was hearing with his own ears that Alex single-handedly had carved up 156 rank-and-file Deepground fighters and two of the six elite Tsviets! Hiding deep inside the astonishment that had overwhelmed him, Tseng could not help pondering Rufus's plan, which had counted on removing with others' hands the hidden army of his father from the board for a smoother seizure of power. Only now they needed somehow to solve the problem with the one whom they had so rashly decided to use for this coup.
"Well, let's say, I am extremely interested to hear exactly how much you value your work so that I can substantively discuss this with the Vice-President," Tseng began speaking in a calm, worldly tone, deciding to move to direct negotiations with Alex, for he perfectly understood: force in this case would definitely not help.
"Based on the value of my services, each killed rank-and-file dummy will cost you 100 thousand gil. For the two idiots from the Tsviets — 500 thousand gil apiece," Alex began enumerating with an everyday facial expression, pretending that he was not engaged in outright extortion at all.
"How much?! Have you completely lost it asking for so many gil?! Won't your mug crack from such price tags?! Where have you even seen such a rip-off?! Even for the damned hunt for a Jabberwock they give a maximum of 10 thousand! And that's, by the way, a most dangerous A-class beast!" Reno roared from the wildest shock the moment he heard Alex's rates.
"I cannot but agree. The price of the services looks extremely inflated," Rude confirmed with a restrained nod, looking at Alex with undisguised doubt in his eyes.
"Quiet, this is not bargaining at all, my dear friends. Either gil, or something equivalent in value. Otherwise… Heh-heh-heh," Alex dismissed in a cheerful tone, carelessly rocking on the chair.
"Yes, you are right. This is not bargaining… But may I inquire what exactly you mean by 'something valuable'? What specifically falls into this category so that I can accurately convey it to the Vice-President?" Tseng spoke, folding his fingers under his chin, reacting in no way at all to the astronomical sum voiced by Alex.
"Hmm… I need the Red Materia. And before you start denying it and pretending you don't understand, I know perfectly well that you have it," Alex said, lowering his legs from the table to the floor and turning to Tseng, who in response only understandingly smiled, not even attempting to deny it.
"Very well. I will immediately convey your conditions to the Vice-President. I think he will agree to this exchange," Tseng answered with a light smile on his lips, slowly and affirmatively nodding.
"Pleasant to deal with a smart man. And you'd better call Rufus right away — or else I have a persistent feeling that he and I will meet very soon. And if he doesn't have the payment with him… I'll add a little interest that no one will like. Especially the one who so passionately yearns to gain power over Shinra," Alex spoke with an extremely tender smile on his face, unhurriedly rising from the chair and preparing to leave Tseng's office.
Looking straight into Alex's eyes, Tseng calmly nodded, making it clearly understood that he would definitely convey to Rufus absolutely everything — down to the last word. By this moment he had finally become convinced that Alex was clearly not the kind of person with whom one could joke or try to rip off. Inside the Head of the Turks there lurked a persistent presentiment that in the future they might quite possibly have to make use of his specific services more than once.
Seeing the silent agreement, Alex smiled slightly and snatched Tseng's expensive fountain pen from the polished table, carelessly tossing off that he was taking it as a souvenir. Preparing to leave the office, Alex walked behind Rude's back and amicably patted him on the shoulder in farewell. Duly appreciating this gesture, Rude slightly nodded after Alex with a restrained smile on his face.
Shifting his gaze to Reno sitting with a sulky expression, Alex quietly sighed and pulled his smartphone from his pocket. A moment later Reno's PHS emitted a short signal notifying of an incoming transfer. Pulling out the gadget, Reno stared at the screen in stupefaction: a full 100 thousand gil had just returned to his personal account!
His eyes immediately widened from wild shock. Understanding where the money had come from, Reno raised his gaze to Alex, but the latter only carelessly showed him the middle finger, with a grin calling him a stupid pauper. Not reacting in any way to the dig, Reno joyfully clenched his fists, thinking only of how excellently he would party on these gil and with how many tasty things he would finally stock up.
Rolling his eyes, Alex approached the exit, but before he managed to take hold of the door handle the doors swung open and Elena appeared on the threshold with a freshly brewed mug of coffee in her hands. Seeing the girl, Alex grinned mischievously and slightly squeezed her cheek, carefully taking his drink. At such a sudden and unceremonious gesture Elena quietly squeaked and fearfully stepped aside.
Patting Elena on the head, Alex unhurriedly headed toward the elevator, with pleasure sipping the scalding coffee from the mug. The moment Alex disappeared around the corridor turn, Tseng took the landline telephone in his hand and dialled Rufus's direct number, intending to report to the Vice-President all the fresh news before his official return. Meanwhile Alex, unhurriedly sipping coffee, was making his way to the 63rd floor — straight to the personal office of Reeve Tuesti, for an extremely nice and heartfelt conversation.
To be continued...
(Man, I've got such a splitting headache today. Well, I managed to pack in 80% of what I'd planned for this chapter, so things should be easier from here on out. After all, we're just a stone's throw away from Hojo's lab—then comes rescuing the kids, a bit of chatting with the buddies, and a scuffle that ends with an escape from Midgar. Of course, there's absolutely no way to fit all that into a single chapter. Plus, I still need to make life a bit miserable for Alex once he finds out what kind of monstrosity Jenova really is. He's going to be surprised... or rather, furious. But those are problems for the future. Right now, it's time for me to eat. And for you, the question is: which world will actually come next? After all, I did lie about it being either *MHA* or *DxD*. Or maybe I should hold another vote on the next world. Basically, it's all up to you. Peace, love, and the hardest choices—they're always tough to make when the moment finally arrives.)
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