Everyone Wants A Lethal Girlfriend [Apex Legends, Wraith Harem Series]

[ ch 8. the bad girls ]

// bangalore's weaponry, central market

It's dark at the market now-- doors were shut and streets were empty. Street lights were dim and weak, just another symptom of the Outlands' anarchy. Though, amongst the closed shops, Bangalore's still had lit windows, despite a 'closed' sign.

Entertainment, he said. By that, Elliot just meant handsome boys and girls to talk to, like some kind of host club-- hardly the stripper enviorment I expected. I suppose that's why he described it as 'classy'.

Not that it stopped Mirage from getting hopelessly drunk. What a show-off, I smirk at the man's slouched scarred face. Pathfinder nods to me as he carries Elliot's dishoveled, semi-concious body in bridal style-- his face was pressed up and drooling on the MRVN's smiling monitor. "Are you sure you want to go in alone?" The robot asks politely. "Not that I think bringing in Elliot in such a vulnerable state is wise! But I can return to you soon!"

I nod confidently to Path, still in my grey pencil skirted gown. "Yeah. I can handle her." It was a half-lie-- I wasn't actually sure I could win a melee fight with her. But I needed answers about this IMC tattoo of hers. Personal answers.

Path's monitor turns bluer with a sweated emote. "I do not want her to harm you, friend."

I blink, then smile. "Path. Are you worried about me?"

The monitor turns pink. "Of course! If you get harmed outside the Ring, our squad would be... incomplete."

I chuckle softly; sometimes, Path really seemed sweet. Again, I wonder how deeply the robot feels. "I'll be fine, Path. Get Elliot home before something really bad happens to him." The man coughs vomit in the robot's arm, groaning lowly. I smile faintly. "Like more of that."

Path nods slowly, and his lanky legs clank as he walks off. I turn and look back at the tall steel door leading into the store.

My heels clink gently as I step into the cold, metal building. Now that were wasn't smoke and chaos, I could see the store more clearly-- it's plain though well organized within glass counters and tables. Yet, everything seemed to lack any labels or price tags. How did Anita keep tabs on all these weapons?

I hear heavy footsteps from the lit doorway behind the counter. Anita, now in a bulky tank top and cargo shorts, nods at me as she wipes a shotgun shaft with a towel-- but she pauses as she sees me. Her eyes widen immediately before giving a hard laugh. "Dang, girl. If I knew this was a date, I would've looked the part."

I smirk. "The outfit isn't mine. Mirage wanted to go to a nice bar, so I had to borrow it."

Anita scoffs as she sets down the shotgun. "Let me guess; The Outlands Oasis?" I blink.

"Yeah."

She says sharply, "That place smells like a fat rat den to me-- someplace too safe for the beautiful and wealthy. I wouldn't trust anyone that's a regular."

I become tense as I approach the glass counter. "Why not?" I rest my palms ahead of me as I lean in slightly towards her. My eyes gesture to her arm tattoo. "You worked for the IMC. You expect anyone in the Frontier to trust you either?"

She grins slyly, almost as if she pitied me. "You think it matters?" Anita gives another low, hard laugh. "I'm not ashamed of my service. I'll never be. People win, people die. That's how war always is." She shrugs. "My people died. The only thing that matters once the fight is over is getting home."

I relax the tension in my arms as I lean back. "Where's that?"

She raises a brow at me for a moment before looking down at the guns beneath the glass top. "In the Core Systems. Whole family served in the IMC, you know. I don't give a fuck what people have to say about it-- they're gonna have to break my spine if they want a reaction out of me."