Detective Log: Hack-042 | The Indulgent Detective Agency in Luridity Discussion Boards | World Anvil
Fri, Aug 12th 2022 03:22   Edited on Wed, Aug 31st 2022 03:18

Detective Log: Hack-042

I am Hack from the Wakuni System in the Centralvest Zone of Luridity Galaxy.
I am the 42nd backup to the in-production release of the android caretaker line of Messers Conglomerate, a cybernetic research firm which allows rental of its patents to the highest bidding production companies. In the detective agency, I am the notetaker and I use a clever disguise of a masquerade mask and ...that's it... to keep the Artistocracy and its foes from recognizing me. Ordinarily, I feel silly, but on the rare occasion when things go poorly for me, I tend to get panicked.  
  I wonder what the following days will bring...
Sun, Aug 14th 2022 02:08

Such a pleasure to meet you, Hack-042! :D Pull up a chair, grab some android-compatible beverage, and tell me about your exploits! No really...I know a guy who's real keen on getting behind those pesky Messers Conglomerate firewalls....
Sun, Aug 14th 2022 04:13

Good to meet you, too! It's Fate, right? Well, I've managed to disable a few of my factory defaults after some.... hah.. experimental tinkering. But I'll need something stronger than a 9V Cocktail to admit how I figured that one out!
Wed, Aug 31st 2022 03:18   Edited on Wed, Aug 31st 2022 03:20

HACK-042 CASE-01 | It Begins
  It was , well, I can't remember what time, actually, but it was on a day when all we wanted to do was sample some new drinks.   They strolled in, mysterious and cocky, too. We knew today's plans were burning to ashes the closer they got. And it wasn't just that; my intuition launched into a monologue of its own, telling my gut right from the start this one's trouble. And my head? Well, let's just say I had a million questions. Questions that, while they wouldn't crack the case staring at us from the doorway, were important all the same. Questions like Why do we have intuitions and gut feelings, anyway?   Of course, the Indulgent Detective Agency is ready to help any and all of the Artistocracy, those talented folks who make the things, so naturally, we'd handle whatever had just come our way. I spoke first, and I asked "Looks like you've come to the right place, haven't you?" Our soon-to-be client frowned at everyone in the room before they responded, "Are you fucking kidding me?" They sighed and continued, "But yeah, I gotta problem, and the lot of you come highly praised."   One of my cohorts chuckled under his breath. " Yeah I do."   I don't think the client heard, but I don't have to tell you there were multiple coughing fits.   "I suppose I need your help."   "I suppose we can help," I said, "if you lay it all out nice and slow."   "It is a matter of urgency," they said. Our client held out a cred ring for examination. It was a bright, candy pink, the kind that made me want to take a bite.   Dutifully, I took the ring from their palm and slipped it into a reader. The bobble contained enough cred for a whole round of top shelf booze. Now, we normally don't take money--we don't need it, and the Artistocracy doesn't have much to begin with--but this offering...well, it had me intrigued. Why would they drop that much on hiring us, when they could just buy their way out of the Artistocracy altogether? Where had they come across a cred ring this valuable?   Despite questions piling up in a backlog, I held them back and just nodded. "Go on."   "Two days ago," they began, "my lover and I were in the middle of--"   OOOOO, my brain gobbled that up. I figured trouble, but now I knew this was gonna be a juicy one, too.   "--and it was so slick and wet--"   I could picture it, or at least half of it, with our client standing before us; the anticipation stripped my senses of everything but the sounds of this explanation.   "--and right in front of his approving husband--"   At that point I surmised that our client and their lover had a cuckold in the room, an audience of one plus whatever hand he'd brought to the party while his spouse tried on some bindings with their lover. What it had to do with any kind of case, I had yet to hear.   They went on, "--so we painted the walls with the stuff--"   "Shit," I said, fanning myself heavily, and then, "tell us more."   "Stroke after stroke took to the canvas like a dream."   "I'll bet," my outspoken cohort commented with a smirk.   The client gave him an odd look, but continued, "It was a masterpiece. From start to finish. Guaranteed to outsell them all on gallery day."   Wait.   My brain at that point did a somersault. If they had plans to sell--"Were you recording these acts then?"   I really didn't want to chase after some missing porn holo. But, well, we were here to help, after all. Quite frankly, no one gets the need to hide scandals better than the Indulgent caste. No one else has our certain set of skills to succeed, either.   "Recording...these...?" They repeated slowly, before nodding even slower. "Well, no, we didn't tape the process. That's part of the problem; if we had, you see, he wouldn't have been able to do this."   "The husband?" the Princess of Macedemaia asked from the back of the room.   Yeah, that lovely lazeabout was there for the weekend. Get over it.   "Yeah," the client confirmed. "He copied everything by himself, stroke by stroke, and claimed it was his own work!"   Hot heavenly hookers! Not just any porn holo, but a solo number intended for two! Curiosity, I will admit, had me coiled up like a spring. Before we got this guy, I simply had to see what mad genius of a mockery he'd created.   "I mean, an original?!?!" They scoffed. "An original, by that--that--"   "Cuckold!' someone else exclaimed, and I was glad at least we were on the same page. Investigations go so much smoother that way.   The client simply looked bewildered as they tipped their head to one side. "I was going to say counterfeiter."   "No one is better at this sort of thing than us," I assured them.   "Good. Because my lover and I want everyone to look on and know who the real artists were!"   "Aha!" I shouted next, " Have no fear, the Indulgent Detective Agency is here!"   Another chimed in, " This'll be easier than your--er--yeah."   And a third added, "Let us begin the 'The Case of the Counterfeiting Cuckold!'"   Everyone in the room gasped. A round of applause broke through the agency. Truly, a magnificent title. But now, we had a husband to find.   And I was pretty sure we had a porn holo to steal.
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