Code Zulu Alpha: Nerd in the Apocalypse!

First and foremost, while we should kind of take into account the safety of the participants, the safety of the audience was more important. And yeah, there were a ton of ways to bring tension without involving explosive putty since one fatal mistake with armed C4 could wipe out both the participants and the audience—where some participants weren't even supposed to die.

In addition, the goal of these events now had shifted to cater for more entertainment value compared to standing in between that and Darwin's Theory.

Because while seeing a random dude blow up could still be considered fun, with the world's population, it'll only be a matter of time before we run out of dudes to detonate—unless we resort to blowing up children for sport.

We just have to find the sweet spot for excitement and near death and we'll be good.

But yeah, we spent a bit of time reworking Jonathan's planned events before he left us alone to have some alone time with his "daughter". It's just that Lucy made it painfully aware to everyone else how she was having the greatest ick from seeing Allie cling up to her "father", though she'd just maintain her trained smile even when she left the room.

Mr. Cuervo then turned to me, "Now that he's gone, what's up, Hermano? You seem busy these few weeks, no?"

"I am, yeah."

"Care to tell me?"

"Sure."

With that said, I relayed almost everything, maybe 85%, of what I experienced from the time I left this place to the time I got here—and Lucy looked like she already had the solution to our problems. It's just that I already fucking knew what she was thinking and sending the Marines to basically blow up the Garcia Family's resort/casino was the last resort.

Lucy just rolled her eyes, "What? It's not like everyone else there deserves to die," then she turned to Quinn, "Right?!"

Mr. Cuervo answered for everyone else, "Like a gun isn't inherently evil, the only way it could be is if it's used by an evil person. While we aren't exactly saints, let's just say that we need to put that place under new management… a lesser evil if you will."

"Who's gonna keep that place afloat though?" she asked again.

I answered, "You."

"Hah?! Me?! You fuckin' serious?!"

"I'll send some people, of course, but you'll be the figurehead. Quinn and I discussed it with Sal too, and I'm pretty sure that Mr. Cuervo will also be on board with that."

Mr. Cuervo followed, "I am. We'll just discuss the specifics later. Alvarez would've agreed as well but he's kind of busy much like the Castillos at the moment."

Lucy never looked so miffed, "Did any of you think to ask me first though?!"

I turned to her, "Well, wouldn't you like the Garcia's place to yourself?"

"I mean— Yeah— BUT— BUT INCLUDE ME IN THE FUCKING CONVERSATION FIRST! IS IT THAT HARD?!"

Quinn rolled her eyes, "Just accept it, bitch. You'll have all those pool boys to yourself~"

"Oh, shut up! I like OUR new toy here better! I'd love to hear him squeal once we—"

I had to cut in, "Okaaay~ As much as I'd like to prove you're wrong twice this night, the plan wouldn't be possible without you being present in it. Jordan too, if he's here."

"You— Fine~ What do you need from me?"

At that point, I asked for specifics about the whole layout of the resort/casino, its customers, its workers, its people—fucking everything, and once I started to draw a map by hand and from what she was telling me, it didn't come as a surprise to Quinn and Mr. Cuervo but Lucy was definitely impressed from that.

I chuckled, "What? Why'd you think I hold blueprints for all your dream cars?"

"Fine~ I'll bottom for you tonight—"

"You— Focus, Lucy! Don't fucking pitch a tent while— Ugh…"

Long story short, the Garcia Family's resort/casino was just too fucking nice to blow up and wreak havoc in—and it wasn't like we'd have to deal with everyone there.

If anything aside from the two figureheads of the Garcia Family, we'd just have to deal with their elders—the OGs who had done more shit compared to Mary and John, their guards—where a small elite group of military-trained and sober was present and mixing among the crowd, and finally, the most annoying of it all according to Lucy, their high-end customers—the politicians and celebrities with their own riff-raff, who would fight tooth and nail just to waste away lavishly.

"Tell me more about those guards."

Lucy shrugged her shoulders, "Before this shit started, they were usually the people that you'd see wearing black suits, shades, and earpieces to communicate with each other—but right now, even if some of them are still doing the same thing, part of their group had mixed in with the crowd and doing surveillance."

"So, are they still carrying? You know, conceal-carrying?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean— It's not like you can just carry a whole-ass rifle, a katana, and wear a plate carrier while wearing shorts and being topless, no?"

"Fair. I guess they carry a pistol or maybe even a knife—but the dead giveaway is always the earpieces that they're wearing. They can't get rid of that unless they learn to communicate telepathically."

"I see. But I'd have to ask, is there no other way we could get them in our good graces? If anything, I'm more worried about the randomness of what their high-end customer would do once we disturb their distorted sense of debauchery."

"I mean~ I fucking hate their leader's face, for one. That dude would just take one look at me and it'd seem that his day's already ruined. And it's not me having a bigger dick than he is, it's the… it's this thing where you just look at one person and you decide you fucking hate everything about them."

"Huh."

"And yeah, I fucking hate everything about him too! It's just…"

"Just?"

"That dude's just fucking trouble. I doubt he ever sleeps. Everytime I come there to let loose, I'll just see his ugly mug from that overlook in the casino staring down at everybody like they're ants."

"This dude got a name?"

"Clarence."

"No…" I had to close my eyes and stop myself from laughing my ass off.

"Hmm? You know him—"

"None at all… It's just— Have you seen Mile 8?"

"Mile— Oh! HAH! GOD FUCKING DAMMIT! HAHAHAHAHA!"

We then rapped at the same time though I had my own twist on them, "You embarrassed? This guy's a gangster/leader? His real name's Clarence!"

Funnily enough, I didn't think Lucy could spit just from hearing her blast the "Devil's" music earlier but color me surprised. In any case, we quickly went back on topic after Mr. Cuervo's disappointed stare but Lucy and I shared a quick moment which somehow pissed Quinn the fuck off but not as much.

"What more can you tell me about him?"

"Mmmm~ I'm drawing a blank, honestly. I've never talked to the guy, actually, and get this: almost everyone from their crew is deathly afraid of him too. For the life of me, I don't know how the Garcias stumbled upon a guy. The dude basically follows their orders like a good dog! I kind of want something like that too, ya know?"

Mr. Cuervo shook his head, "If anything, Clarence is a product of their other business venture."

"What?"

Mr. Cuervo glanced at the door momentarily before answering, "You remember Jonathan, right?"

"Yeah?"

"It's not just the disrespect he brought me was the reason I kicked him out, it's also the 'daughter' he keeps bringing around."

"You mean Allie?"

"Yes. It's one thing to lose your daughter in a car accident, it's one other horrible thing to replace her with a fake one, much less look it in the eye and fuck it."

"..."

Find your next adventure on My Virtual Library Empire

"But I digress, the Garcia Family has a ton of 'legal' money to throw around because of their casino and with their ability to donate to any group that they wanted to, they also had the ability to curate—basically make something that could act as anyone or replace a lost loved one."

"Say that again— How?"

"Orphanages. Teach them young and you can basically mold them to whatever you like. It's easier to get rid of habits or their personality if they have nothing to begin with. If you can teach one to be a whore daughter, you can teach one to be a cold guard."

Lucy leaned back in her chair and stretched her back, "Ah. So they just look for a budding serial killer and go from there?"

"Something like that, yes."

Before Mr. Cuervo even answered, I was about to blurt out the existence of one particular lab doing the same thing but I guess we have a different definition for "making" something tailored to one's needs.