Collide Gamer

Observe was, by all accounts, complete bullshit. Without a countermeasure, the target was completely oblivious to it being used and even with countermeasures he had a very high chance of simply punching through. With this tool, John could learn a whole lot about people. Even if he had no real control over what he learned, it was more than most intel magic provided.

He had a name: Sanchez Cruz. He had another name, Maria, though ‘extended family’ made it quite likely that her second name was different. He also had Sanchez’s face, which was its own datapoint. Lastly, he had a name for their guild: La Familia.

He started with investigating that last clue. Back in the Guild Hall, he had a Building called the Great Archive. It was a Perk-unlock, something he had gotten as he went through the motions of getting the Guild Hall tiered up. It was primarily used for its rooms, as its automatic function was rather niche: it automatically logged the creation of any guild in Fusion’s conquered territory.

San Jose had been Fusion’s territory by every legal right and they had reclaimed it from the Lorylim days before the battle of New Babel had occurred. La Familia had been on the books, finding it had granted John access to… not much. The mechanic was helpful, but it was not a surveillance apparatus. Like Observe, what details were included in the summary of the Guild was up to the enigmatic machinations locked beyond his reach.

Having so many aspects of his power regulated by things he didn’t quite understand was frustrating at times. John considered it in the same way as the general working of his body. He had no direct control over the structure of his bones or the creation of digestive enzymes either. He just had to work with what he was given by nature.

To that end, La Familia was simply described as a guild founded by an entire Hispanic family that had all been Awakened. The chances for an entire family all having untapped Abyssal potential were incredibly low, which meant that it was bound to happen at a large enough scale. The entirety of North America was large enough that John wasn’t too surprised this had happened.

Though, with a Latebloomer also in the mix, one had to wonder if there was something more to their bloodline… but that was a later investigation.

The confirmation that all or at least most of La Familia was made of Awakened made things even easier. Now John knew that he could target anyone who Sanchez had a familial relationship with and probe them for more intel.

Which became important as he, Scarlett, Claire and Nightingale got to digging. Scarlett was doing the immediate work of trying to get Sanchez’s personal data. A mundane person in the USA left a long trail over the course of their life. Records of birth, medical issues, potentially crimes and misdemeanours, alongside the usual matters of a driver’s license and I.D.

It was a sign that La Familia truly was competent that Scarlett didn’t immediately get an address for them to chase down. Sanchez Cruz was present in several records, but only ones that did not give any further details and, given the name, they couldn’t be entirely sure they had the right guy. Surface level data was thus difficult to use.

He, Nightingale, and Claire meanwhile were digging into physical records. Electronic data was as easy to create as it was to delete, but physical matter not only required direct action, it also had to be found first. Here, as well, their target had taken precautionary measures. There were several ‘Sanchez Cruz’s in the city’s registers, but none with a photo that matched their guy.

In summary: their target had cleaned up all of the signs of their mundane existence where one would usually look.

It served to delay John finding them by two days.

John stood at the front door of a lovely little building tucked away between less lovely but similarly aged apartment complexes. It was a community centre with two floors, both of them of moderate size. It was the kind of building in which octogenarians celebrated their birthday, small weddings held their parties, and in which dance instructors worked with their small groupings.

This particular one served as both that community centre and the home of the ones that maintained it. It was a three generational household, with a grandmother, her daughter, that daughter’s husband, and their three children, the youngest of which was a 21-year-old by the name of Maria Esmeralda Espinosa.

John hit the buzzer and waited. It was late in the evening, late enough that the sun had fallen and Claire could move along without discomfort. It wasn’t the normal time to ring someone’s doorbell, so he wasn’t offended by the delay.

They had the place on lockdown anyhow.

The door opened up suddenly, an angry man beyond middle-aged but not into the truly old years yet appearing behind it. He had a handlebar moustache and his hair slicked back in a way that reminded John of Freddy Mercury, though this man did not suffer from the same dental deformity that legendary singer had.

The annoyance in the man’s dark green eyes drained immediately upon seeing the Gamer. His eyes darted to the six women behind him. If he had any doubt regarding John’s identity, it must have been cleared instantly. An exceedingly average, if attractive, rich man ringing a doorbell could have happened for any number of reasons, but one accompanied by six women that would have been underpaid by a supermodel contract? Not many of those went around.

“We’re not selling the property!” the man recited a prepared lie, then moved to slam the door shut. John already had placed his foot in the way.

“I’m here to discuss other business, as you are well aware,” he said.

“I have no fucking clue what you are talking about.”

“He lies,” Ehtra growled.

John chortled, not like he had needed that confirmation. “Thank you, it’s nice to be extra certain,” he said to the First of Hatred, then turned back to the father in the household. “Look, I have found you and I’m not letting a slammed door get in my way anyhow. I would like to talk, that’s all.”

“…Do you swear upon the Lord in Heaven?” the man asked. There was something about that question that hit a lot harder in Spanish, though that could have been the difference between a cultural and an actual Christian as well.

“I’m an atheist, so that would feel cheap… I swear upon my reputation. I know that you have heard things about me, but I can assure you that I value that highly.”

The man remained in the doorframe for several seconds, staring. Then, he nodded, pulled the door back open, and allowed them inside.

They had to climb a staircase first. All of the living quarters were on the second floor, so the entrance to them was just a house door leading to a diagonal corridor, at the end of which the actual entrance lay. It was one of those organic little oddities that just occurred when a house was in operation for multiple generations.

7 people lived on this floor and it showed. There were too many shoes on too few boards, leaving them partially stacked on top of each other. The air had a particular arrangement of smells, mixing tobacco with incense and the spices of Mexican cuisine. A rosary hung from a small mirror by the overstuffed coatrack.

The wallpaper was quite colourful, though little of it was visible. Even the entrance area was stuffed with family photos. The air was filled with the noise of a loudly running TV. Some series was being watched in English, but the father in the household shouted in Spanish all the same, “WE’VE BEEN FOUND! FAMILY GATHERING IN THE LIVING ROOM!”

“What do you mean we have been-?” An attractive matron, a few years the father’s junior, stuck her greying head out of the kitchen. She stopped immediately when she saw the Gamer. First, her lips pressed together, then she asked, “Would you like coffee?”

“Yes!” Lyndell answered before he could. The mushroom lady tried to push her way into the room, but only managed to get her head in under John’s arm. Everything was congested. “I am eager to experience your coffee.”

The matron of the household was perplexed by the forlorn tone that followed the original enthusiasm. Perhaps she was perplexed in general. Not as much as Sanchez, who stepped into John’s line of sight and then went pale. The Gamer gave him a simple wink.

Sanchez was not a permanent resident, but he was staying for dinner alongside two other relatives. In total, that put the size of the family in front of John at ten people and he knew that this wasn’t all of them either.

They had to squeeze 15 people into the living room. It was quite hot in there, the heating against the winter outside combining with everyone’s body heat. As a guest, John was offered the couch. He accepted. Ehtra and Nightingale sat down beside him. The father sat down in an armchair. There was a second one, occupied by an elderly lady who hadn’t moved.

John looked at all of them one after another. They weren’t entirely stereotypical, because no one ever was. They were, however, very close. They were all dark-haired, somewhat tan, and had green or brown eyes. Height wise they were average, build wise they were average, and the men tended to have styled beards. They wore simple yet expressive clothes, especially the women.

One stood out to John, because of course she did. She was a woman around his age, with wavy, dark brown hair that went just past her chin. She had a gorgeously caramel skin, a perfect representation of that Latina dream. Golden earrings dangled besides her finely swung chin. A golden crucifix sat just north of her cleavage. Her red dress, beset with frills, clung tightly to her medium-sized breasts. Green eyes under knitted eyebrows and a frowning mouth all matched the crossed arms. She was not happy to see him.

[Esmeralda AI Picture: https://cdn.imgchest.com/files/b5c3fd2771c3.png]

“So… how did you find us?”

John’s eyes snapped to the grandmother of the family. The elderly woman must have been a sack of bones until recently. Even now, she reached for her cup of coffee with quivering hands. Having become an Awakened was extending her life and wakefulness, but it could only do so much in so little time.

“Before I answer that,” John reached into his inventory. The gathered people flinched when his hand disappeared into nothingness and remained alert when he pulled out a vial filled with a red liquid. He remained calm despite their uncertainty. He wanted them to know that he didn’t fear their reactions. He had no reason to, not after he had Observed all of them. “This here is a healing potion,” he put it on the table, “it’ll aid you in recovering as you grow into your new powers.”

“…And I would trust that why?” the matriarch asked.

“You don’t have to trust me, I know one of you can verify it.” He did not gaze exactly at who, not wanting to unnerve them further (for the moment). “The amount of avoiding you have done wouldn’t be possible without a seer on your side.” Leaving the potion on the table, he reclined on the couch. “This is worth very little to me. You can distrust me enough to get rid of it or use it. The choice is yours.”

“Very kind,” the elder woman bent forward and suddenly grabbed the flask. To the combined panic of the others, she removed the lid. “Oh, be quiet, if I croak, you know he’s a villain, that’s worth the risk,” she said, then downed the whole flask in one go.

The tremble of her hand immediately diminished to near nothing. Before everyone’s eyes, wrinkles in her skin smoothed out. It was quite fascinating in multiple ways. It was rare that someone grew powerful this late in life, research in how much the aging process could be reversed was ongoing.

“Oh, that is much better,” the matriarch said, her voice noticeably stronger and less laden with the effects of decades of smoking. “I am Maria. This is my daughter Theodora, her husband Carlos, and their children Maria, Theo and Leon. Those two are the children of my other son, Alejandro and-“

“Sanchez,” John interrupted with a smirk. “We are acquainted. He’s the source of how I got here.”

Immediately the entire room turned to glare at the early-thirties man, who shrunk together in shame. “Was just patrolling…” he mumbled.

“Oh, you featherbrained spawn of the devil’s sin!” The insults flowed straight from the daughter that had caught John’s attention earlier. “You were told specifically not to engage while he was in town, you moronic pig! I should…” She began to bow down trying to get something off the floor, or from near the floor. John did not have a good enough angle to see it.

All he knew was that a whole string of creative insults flew over the young woman’s lips, while Sanchez gave the exit door a panicked look. There was his brother and the two brothers of Maria junior between him and his path to escape. “I didn’t tell him my name.”

John cleared his throat. “Well, before you punish him, let me lay down the whole story… Actually, Claire, if you would? It was you who found them, after all.”

“Not without your work, not without your knowledge, not without your brilliance, Master,” Claire swooned. The unironic use of that title had the formerly mundane people before them raise an eyebrow.

“This is a house dedicated to the Lord, don’t drag your kinks into conversation,” Maria senior demanded.

“It’s not a kink,” John said. ‘Not exclusively,’ he added mentally.

“I will address my beloved Master in whatever way I choose,” Claire stated, then immediately moved onto the explanation. “By his tactical supremacy, he was able to extract your name, Sanchez Cruz, from the encounter. My fellow intel experts and I will commend you all for purging yourselves from official records. You did quite a thorough job to delay us for two full days.”

The vampire maid reached into her own inventory and withdrew a sheet of paper. She handed it over to John who then moved it towards Maria senior. She declined with a raised hand. “Give it to my son-in-law, he has better eyes.”

While Carlos looked at the paper, Claire explained its contents, “12 years ago, one Sanchez Cruz was called to the jury duty pool. He was then sorted out, as you will now remember, but the background check remained on file. From it, we were able to take the names of other people. From there, it was easy to work out your familial web.”

“It helped that he had such good footwork,” John said. “Three generations of tango instructors. Not my first guess, but it makes sense.”

“I would call you the son of a whore, did I not respect your mother!” Maria junior by now had grabbed what she was looking for. The sandal in her hand might as well have been a gun. Sanchez certainly treated it that way when she tried to swing it at him. “Get here, you useless spawn of devil’s breath!”

“Please, there is no need to be violent. I would have found you one way or another eventually. I have means that were occupied elsewhere.” John thought to Lorelei, who was finally out of theological duty and would have been able to weigh in on this starting later this day. “I have my own seers. I don’t need them to know, though…” he caught the gaze of the daughter, “that you are the Maria in charge here.”

The youngest woman in the room stared right back, stopping halfway through the swing. She let out another string of Spanish curses under her breath. The Latina way of speaking wasn’t doing things to his brain as badly as Hailey did… but it was close.

“The men get out. Mom, make sure they don’t barge in,” Maria junior said. Somewhat to John’s surprise, they obeyed with only minimal grumbling, clearing much of the living room out. “And you!” She pointed at John, still holding the sandal in her hand. “Call me Esmeralda.”