Chapter 3:

Left to Right

Black Hunt

By the time Dario returned home, the sun had disappeared beneath the skyline. The apartment smelled of tuna, capers, and warm veal.

Vitello tonnato.

It was one of the few meals his mother still had the energy to prepare.

The two of them ate quietly at the small dining table until Cami finally looked up from her plate.

"So?"

Dario swallowed another bite.

"So?"

She sighed.

"Which section were you placed in?"

He shrugged. "I'm... not sure."

"What about your job title?"

"...Don't know."

Cami lowered her fork, a hint of frustration creeping into her voice.

"Damn it, Dario. What do you know?"

"I know I got the job." He met her eyes. "That's all that matters right now."

He gestured around the apartment.

"We're drowning in hospital bills, Mom. I'll do whatever it takes to help."

Her expression softened.

"That isn't your responsibility."

"It should be mine."

"No." She shook her head. "Leave that to me."

Dario let out a tired, frustrated laugh.

"How? You can barely walk around the house."

Silence settled over the room.

"It's just you and me," he said quietly, looking down at his plate. "You are my responsibility."

Cami clenched her fork.

"I'll figure something out."

"You don't have to."

"Forget about that job." Her voice became firmer. "We'll find you another one."

"We both know I won't." Dario shook his head. "Nothing else is going to pay what Pazzo does."

"Please." She reached across the table. "Listen to me."

Dario hesitated.

Then he remembered Lou.

"They asked about you."

Cami froze.

"What?"

"They knew your name."

Her fingers tightened around her fork.

"Who asked?"

"The interviewer."

"What did he say?"

"He asked about Dad."

Dario leaned forward.

"How does he know about Dad? How does a complete stranger know more about my father than I do?"

For a long moment, Cami said nothing.

Finally, she looked away.

"It doesn't matter."

"It matters to me."

"You're not taking that job."

"I won't."

Dario nodded once.

"If you tell me about him."

The room fell unbearably quiet.

When Cami finally spoke, her voice barely rose above a whisper.

"He's dead."

Dario stared at her.

"Before..."

He wanted to ask Before what? Before I was born? Before you met him? Before what happened? Instead, he simply waited.

Cami closed her eyes.

"I can't."

Monday couldn't come soon enough.

The morning subway was just as crowded as before. Dario stood beside the doors in a freshly ironed baby-blue dress shirt and black dress pants, doing his best to avoid everyone's elbows.

It didn't work.

An android shoved past him without so much as a glance, sending Dario shoulder-first into the subway door.

"What a waste of space," the android muttered.

Dario rubbed his shoulder.

It's going to be one of those days.

The janitor's room was far less glamorous than the rest of Pazzo Corporation. Rows of dented lockers lined one wall, while shelves overflowed with cleaning chemicals, spare mops, and buckets. Broken cleaning robots had been stacked carelessly in one corner, their lifeless bodies waiting to be repaired—or scrapped.

Dario looked down at his new uniform.

A plain blue jumper.

Not exactly the exciting first day he'd imagined, but a job was a job.

"How did you manage to pull this job?"

The voice belonged to a skinny man leaning lazily against a mop balanced inside a bucket filled with murky red water. He looked to be around Dario's age, with messy purple hair and the relaxed confidence of someone who had long since stopped caring about appearances. Like Dario, he had no cybernetic enhancements—something surprisingly rare inside Pazzo Corporation.

"I'm Cube."

"Dario."

Cube nodded, pointing the mop handle toward him.

"So... how'd you get in?"

Before Dario could answer, the door opened.

Lou stepped inside, his polished shoes clicking softly against the tile floor. His calm presence seemed to straighten the entire room without a word.

"Good morning."

His gaze settled on Dario.

"I hope you learn and adapt quickly, Dario."

"I will, sir."

"Very good."

Lou gave a polite nod before turning toward the door.

"Get to work."

As quietly as he'd arrived, he disappeared back into the hallway.

Cube waited until the door clicked shut behind him. Then he cleared his throat, stood a little straighter, and put on an exaggerated smile.

"Good morning," he said in a perfect imitation of Lou. "I hope you learn how to mop the floor."

Dario couldn't help laughing.

"Alright, rookie." Cube grabbed the mop from the bucket and slowly pushed it across the floor, somehow making the dirty water spread even farther. "Lesson number one."

He demonstrated another pass.

"Left to right."

Then he raised a finger dramatically.

"But never right to left."

Dario frowned.

"Is there a reason?"

"No clue."

Cube shrugged.

"Probably something the cleaning bots came up with."

He handed Dario the mop.

"Your turn."

"I think I know how to mop."

"We'll see."

Dario rolled his eyes, dipped the mop into the bucket, and pushed it across the floor.

"...Like this?"

"There you go."

Cube folded his arms and nodded approvingly.

"Left to right. Beautiful."

A second later he shrugged.

"But what the hell do I know?"

Dario chuckled and continued mopping until something white rolled out from beneath the wet strands of the mop.

He stopped and leaned closer, his stomach tightening.

"...Uh..."

The object slowly came to a stop near his shoe.

"...Is that..."

"...an eye?"

Cube glanced over for barely a second.

"Yeah."

Dario looked at him.

Cube shrugged.

"You'll get used to it."

Dario looked back down at the eyeball resting on the floor, its cloudy iris staring blankly toward the ceiling.

What kind of place did I just get hired into?

Without another word, Cube pushed open the laboratory doors.

The room beyond was immaculate. Bright white walls reflected the overhead lights, making the laboratory almost painfully clean, while stainless steel tables displayed neatly organized surgical instruments beside mechanical limbs in various stages of assembly. At the center of the room sat a single operating bed soaked in blood.

Dario stopped in the doorway.

Cube wheeled the cleaning cart inside as though nothing seemed unusual.

"Alright." He pointed toward the blood-covered operating table. "I usually start with the blood. Get the nasty stuff out of the way first."

He scratched the back of his head.

"Otherwise I'll puke... and then we'd have even more to clean."

A grin spread across his face as he handed Dario the mop.

"But now that you're here..."

He pointed the handle toward the operating table.

"...you can take this one."

Dario stared at the operating table before looking back at Cube.

"And what are you going to do?"

Cube puffed out his chest.

"I'm your trainer for the next three days."

He folded his arms behind his back and began pacing like a strict instructor.

"My job is to make sure everything is done properly."

He pointed dramatically toward the floor.

"Perfection."

His finger shifted to another spot.

"Spotless."

Then he threw both hands into the air.

"Just like our wonderful robo-janitors."

Dario raised an eyebrow.

"Is that so?"

"Absolutely."

Cube nodded with complete seriousness before leaning closer.

"My name's on the line. If you suck, they'll start bitching at me, even though I wasn't the genius who hired you."

Dario dipped the mop into the bucket and walked toward the operating table. The closer he got, the more blood he noticed. It covered the table, spread across the floor, and stained the nearby walls as though someone had tried—and failed—to clean up a massacre.

He stopped.

"What happened here?"

His voice came out quieter than he intended.

"It looks like a massacre."

Cube didn't even bother looking up.

"Basically."

Before Dario could ask another question, a sharp metallic CLANK echoed through the laboratory.

He spun around.

A mechanical arm lay on the floor.

Its fingers twitched.

Then the entire arm jerked forward and began crawling across the room.

Dario's eyes widened.

"...What the hell?"

Cube groaned.

"Oh, come on!"

He sprinted after it.

The arm skittered across the floor like a metal spider, weaving between tables as Cube dove after it. Both slammed into the wall, and the mechanical hand immediately clamped itself over Cube's face.

"Give me the mop!"

Still trying to process what he was seeing, Dario hurried over and shoved the mop into Cube's hands.

"You piece of crap!"

WHACK!

The mop slammed into the arm.

It kept moving.

WHACK!

Cube hit it again.

The fingers twitched stubbornly.

WHACK!

The third strike finally left it motionless.

Cube let out a long sigh of relief.

"There."

He flipped the arm over, opened a small maintenance panel hidden underneath, and removed a tiny black chip no larger than his thumbnail. Before Dario could get a better look, Cube casually slipped it into his pocket.

"...Did you just steal that?"

Cube looked at him as though he'd asked the dumbest question imaginable.

"And?"

Dario opened his mouth, thought better of it, and closed it again.

Cube slowly raised the mop onto his shoulder like a baseball bat.

"Are you a rat?"

"N-No."

Dario pointed toward the ceiling.

"There are cameras."

Cube glanced upward before waving dismissively.

"Nah."

"I hacked those."

He tossed the lifeless mechanical arm onto the floor and grabbed the cleaning bucket.

"But if we don't hurry up and clean this place before somebody notices, we'll have much bigger problems."

Dario slowly looked around the laboratory again. Blood stained nearly every surface, surgical instruments gleamed beneath the harsh lights, and severed mechanical limbs were scattered throughout the room as silence settled over everything.

His first day had barely begun, yet already nothing about Pazzo Corporation felt normal.

By the time Dario returned home, the apartment was quiet. The only light came from the holographic newspaper hovering above the coffee table, where Cami lay curled beneath a blanket, slowly scrolling through page after page of job listings. Every few seconds another listing disappeared from the screen, and with each one her expression tightened a little more.

She looked up when she heard the front door open.

"How was your first day?"

Dario paused as he slipped off his shoes.

For a brief moment, he almost answered.

Then he remembered dinner.

Lou's questions.

The way Cami had refused to tell him anything about his father.

He looked at her across the room.

"You don't talk about him..."

His voice remained calm.

"...I don't talk about work."

Cami slowly lowered the holographic newspaper.

"Dario."

There was a warning in her voice.

He turned toward the stairs.

"Dario!"

This time she didn't try to hide her anger.

Without saying another word, Dario continued upstairs.

A moment later, his bedroom door slammed shut.

The sound echoed through the apartment before silence settled over the room once again.

Cami remained motionless on the couch, staring at the staircase long after he had disappeared.

Several miles away, Lou sat alone inside his office at Pazzo Corporation. The city lights stretched endlessly beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows, bathing the room in soft shades of blue and gold. Across from him stood a scientist in a spotless white lab coat, clutching a tablet tightly enough for his knuckles to whiten.

Lou folded his hands together.

"Give me the updates."

The scientist hesitated before letting out a quiet sigh.

"I've exhausted every available option."

He tapped the tablet.

"Without Rh-null blood or Delta Thirty-Two, I cannot reproduce it."

Lou remained silent.

His expression didn't change.

He simply stared out at the city below as though the answer were somewhere among the lights.

Finally, he spoke.

"I'll find a way."

The scientist looked up.