"FWLS62" - читать интересную книгу автора (A Future We'd Like to See)

a chance.

I pulled the pin and threw the frag grenade in a nice arc
towards the stretcher, then walked away. I didn't need to look
back; I had done what I set out to do.

"Not bad," my contact said, pulling me into a nearby alley.
I was expecting him; he always was nearby, when I went around at
night. Kind of a demonic fairy godmother.

"Hurrah," I said.

"Cheer up!" the contact said. "That little number you
pulled on her ass, coupled with the finishing kaboom is worth a
lot of points."

"I don't care about points," I said.

"I swear, you've got no team spirit," he grumbled, folding
his arms. "What good is Generik Evil if you can't tell how evil
you are in a measured manner?"

"I know I'm bad," I replied. "I don't need some lame-ass
'points' system to remind me I'm nothing but crap."

"Remember what you were before I found you?" my contact
warned. "Shiftless? Aimless? Pointless? A benign tumor on
society. I make you malign, man. You were just a small timer
then, a few muggings to keep yourself alive, theft. You're big
time now. A real menace, racking 'em up. Your points count
towards my total as your manager, thankfully. Now. Do you want
to know your points or not?"

"No."

"Five hundred and seventy two," he said. "You rank third in
the city. If you'd consider doing some fake occult slayings--"

"No," I said. "No point. I don't want fake trimmings.
It's not me."

"Suit yourself. Goes against the Generik concept, though."

"I don't care," I said, leaving the alley. Not much of a
note to end on, but it was true; I didn't care.

*

I'd been a bad boy since real young. I'd love to imagine
taking all the people who I thought had fucked up my life and