“I didn't find it appropriate to discuss the job interview without Nuskul,” Labiba said. “That’s why Nuskul’s arrival is perfectly timed.” A freak of nature was speaking, after all.

  The fact that Nuskul, unlike Labiba, was a simple cybernetic was very confusing. When these two figures stood side by side, Azrak recalled the oddities he had seen in the labyrinths of TerraGorh. It was as if, even if human civilization were to vanish, its remains would be at least as strange as the ruins of TerraGorh.

  As Nuskul stood before the table, he greeted everyone with a nod. Hikmar, the priest of Cyoh Katum, saw Labiba’s inability to conduct a business meeting alone as a sign of weakness. To him, Nuskul was merely a joker card used by a man devoid of leadership qualities—a sidekick who loved to brown-nose and support him out of helplessness. This was the kind of man governing the city of Uruzen. Therefore, Hikmar soured his face when Nuskul greeted him. Azrak, on the other hand, smirked at the situation. He was curious to see how long Hikmar could maintain this defiant stance. Would they be able to leave this place before Hikmar strangled the man? Besides, if Hikmar hated these men so much from the start, why had he accepted the job? Azrak didn't know what the job was, but as a cybernetic equipped enough to handle most tasks alone, he was a member of Exosanguis.

  “First of all, I would like to say this to you,” said Nuskul. “It is an honor for us to host two such esteemed members of Exosanguis.”

  Azrak, thinking Hikmar would calm down now that he had finally received the courtesy he deserved, was mistaken. Now, the words of this man, whose tongue had tasted nothing but lies, seemed to bother him. But Hikmar, thinking he had finally found a bit of politeness, moved toward the chair and sat down.

  “You’re welcome,” Hikmar said, reciprocating the courtesy. “Please, tell us about the job.”

  “You must have realized that I am a freak of nature,” Labiba interjected. While he spoke, bubbles of spit sprayed from the corners of his mouth. “When I joined this business about 300 years ago, I didn't think I would be tied to it for so long. Why? Because even back then, wages were low. These people downstairs who complain about working with the Uruzenians… those people think I don't understand them. They think they are working in the worst conditions, but… but 300 years ago, even before TESO declared bankruptcy 2991 times, the conditions of this company were poor and the wages were low.”

  “Yes…” Azrak said with a smirk. “…I suppose you want us to feel regret for traveling all this way to work for TESO.”

  “Absolutely not…” Nuskul interrupted. “Please listen to my manager; let him finish his story.”

  “Thank you, Nuskul,” Labiba said and continued speaking. “When I turned 89, my lungs, which were about to burst from inhaling factory smoke, were eager to take my life. Back then, immortality wasn't as cheap as it is now. Becoming a cybernetic required more than a lifetime of work. More accurately, working honestly wasn't enough to become a cybernetic. Being 'Enhanced' was impossible for me. My internal organs, skin, genetics, and many other things had been ruined from working among the factory's chemicals. There was no longer an upgrade that could carry and sustain that body.”

  “But you are Enhanced…” Azrak interjected searchingly.

  “Do you think I am Enhanced?”

  “You’re certainly not a cybernetic. You are composed of far too much flesh and bone.”

  “You’re right… But contrary to what you think, I am neither a cybernetic nor an Enhanced.”

  “What are you, then?”

  “He told you…” Hikmar interrupted. “…he’s a freak of nature. You’re a bad clone, aren't you?”

  “It’s truly astonishing that you noticed that,” Labiba said. “Yes… I am a clone.”

  “Is it legal for a manager to be a clone?” Azrak asked. “Do the TESO authorities know about this? After all, cloning procedures can sometimes lead to errors. Especially in cases like memory transfer… That’s why I believe most clones aren't allowed to be high-ranking officials in companies. If a man dies, his clone cannot take his place; isn't the clone supposed to start from scratch?”

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  “You are here on behalf of neither TESO nor the SWR,” Nuskul said. “We would prefer you didn't question this.”

  “That must be why you chose the Exosanguis organization for this job,” Hikmar said.

  “Precisely…” Labiba said. “…by the way, I’d prefer to return to the subject I was telling. Besieged by diseases and on my deathbed, I cloned myself. Since my funds weren't quite sufficient, the first clone was quite a failure. But it was still authoritative enough to take my place. I closed my eyes for the last time just a few days after the first clone came into existence. And then what happened? A genetic error during the creation of the first clone besieged that clone with many diseases as well. Damn it… I had exceeded the amount of money I had and had partially failed. But what could I do? If 80 years of labor couldn't buy anything, was it my fault, or the fault of TESO or the SWR? Were only the nobles and the rich allowed to be immortal? I wouldn't accept this! If there is a God, may He be pleased with Quartez! Because they made damn immortality quite cheap.”

  “It’s quite tragicomic for you to say you're bothered by elite classes who consider themselves superior, being the king of a colonial kingdom,” Hikmar said, but Labiba ignored him.

  “The first clone, struggling with diseases, passed these diseases on to the other clones. I’ve been living for about 300 years. During this time, I’ve changed more than 40 clones,” Labiba said.

  “And you are the last of these clones,” Azrak said.

  “Yes… You must realize what the clones have become with the progressive genetic error. Looking at me, you should be able to see it quite clearly.”

  “So, what do you want from us?” Azrak asked. “If you’re seeking your cure from us, I’m sorry, but we don't have it.”

  “No, I’ve already found the way to my cure,” Labiba said. “A very valuable doctor, a graduate of the University of Mars Colonies… and right under our noses.”

  “A doctor? And a Mars Colonies graduate… Why is such a gem among the Uruzenians?” Hikmar asked.

  “The woman has her own personal reasons,” Nuskul interjected.

  “This woman is a godsend…” Labiba added. “Under normal circumstances, it would cost me millions of dollars to find a doctor qualified to treat my genetic disease. Yet this woman named Sevda is only a few kilometers away.”

  “A doctor like that would be expensive,” Hikmar said. “How do you plan to convince her?”

  “We have our own methods of persuasion,” Nuskul said with a smirk. Neither Hikmar nor Azrak liked this smile. “But having found a doctor isn't enough on its own.”

  “Yes… even the equipment that needs to be used to heal me costs millions of dollars alone. That’s why I still need a large sum of money, and such a large sum cannot be earned just by being a manager.”

  “I assume you don't just act as a manager anyway. There are many rumors of organ trafficking, human smuggling, and much more happening here,” Hikmar said.

  “Those are peanuts compared to the money required… I can never earn that kind of money from the Uruzenians.”

  “That’s why you took a job from the outside,” Azrak said. “And you hired us to handle it.”

  “Nothing escapes the members of Exosanguis,” Nuskul said.

  “So, what kind of job is it?” Azrak asked.

  “I want you to escort a cargo convoy…”

  “Is that all?”

  “Yes…”

  “Is the cargo dangerous?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “And how far will we protect the convoy?”

  “Just a few days' distance away…”

  “What are the dangers of the mission?”

  “We don't want to disclose many details before you accept the job,” Nuskul said. “So these are what you need to know until you sign your employment contract, where you will take an oath of silence. But I assure you that you will receive a very large sum of money. 8 million SWR Credits per person.”

  Azrak and Hikmar looked at each other. Signing an employment contract without knowing any details was nothing short of shooting oneself in the head for a relic hunter. In this situation, would they accept this employment contract?

  “You want us to sign a paper where details we don't know are written?” Azrak asked.

  “Yes…”

  “In that case…” Hikmar said and stood up. “…I’d like to consult with my partner privately for a while.”

  “Of course…” Labiba said. “…consult freely here. We await your answer.”

  As Labiba slowly exited through the door on his flying chair, Nuskul seemed to wait for him to pass with reverence.

  While the room fell into a silence liberated from the hum of Labiba’s constantly running motors, the wings of the drone on Azrak’s back came to life and moved, like the wing movements a dying mosquito makes to resist. Then the movement of the drone’s propellers increased more and more. After a few more movements, the drone left Azrak’s body with a strong thrust and rose toward the sky.

  Soaring in the air by flapping its four wings one after another like a mosquito, the place where the drone’s head was located was like a spider’s mouth. The bright blue stone in the center of that spider’s mouth was its eye. It was no surprise that this drone, which was alien technology, looked terrifying and strange.

  As the soaring drone scanned the surroundings with the blue light emanating from its eyes, all information was being transmitted to Azrak.

  “Thanks, buddy,” Azrak said, referring to the drone. “Hikmar, we are currently being listened to by 22 listening devices and filmed by 8 cameras. Jul has neutralized them for us.”

  “So we're free to talk. Great!” Hikmar said, firmly grasping his metal staff and striking it on the ground. “Then let’s talk.”