A Need for Speed

Forename. I was hoping you'd drop by...

It took a bit of doing, but I was able to widen the crack I made in that storage device and yank out a couple new scraps of data.

The first file just so happened to be a record of Carnelian's procedure. Seems the bastard's soul was poured into one of those “clot” type monsters.

They've got an annoying talent for mimicking shapes and faces, which is exactly what Carnelian took advantage of when he tricked us with his fake Kemakka.

Never fear, Inspector Hildibrand is here!

The other file I pulled had details on yet another monster-fied criminal.

This mook was nabbed for repeated vehicular violations─riding his air-wheeler too fast, making reckless maneuvers endangering others, that sort of thing. According to the data, he's running around in the body of a cactuar now.

Judging by what we've seen of that researcher's schemes, he'll have dispatched the prickly speed demon somewhere outside the dome. But where...?

Rejoice, my good detective. For I, Hildibrand, agent of enquiry, come bearing the very direction you seek!

I have it straight from the mouth of the real Kemakka that an ambulatory cactus piloting a flying contraption was supposedly observed streaking through the sky on a southerly bearing.

Alas, despite hastening to confirm this sighting, our intrepid sheriff arrived too late to see the needle-covered individual in question. The report was summarily dismissed as fanciful imaginings of inebriated townsfolk.

The insistent chirp of veteran instinct nonetheless impelled me to investigate! Thus did my faithful assistant and I venture further south to question the colorful crowds of Toolly-yodel.

Tuliyollal!

Ahem, y-yes, there to find sober witnesses eager to tell of an airborne succulent!

They said it was moving at an incredible pace, sat astride a vehicle like the ones the “mechanical invaders” had ridden. It was last seen zipping past a dirigible before vanishing into the clouds to the south...

Alexandria's soldiers ride on air-wheelers, so unless there's another flying cactuar out there somewhere, I think we have our man. Good work!

Almost too good, in fact...

Over there! Is that a new case I spy!?

Hardly had to bait the hook. They're the real deal, alright... Although come to think of it, I don't know why anyone would bother impersonating either of 'em to begin with.

At least the lead seems solid enough. But if we're serious about catching this guy, we'll need an air-wheeler of our own. Come on─there's a shop nearby that does custom jobs.

End of cutscene.

Speak with Hardiboiled.

Optional dialogue

Did he say they do “custard” jobs...?

Oh, I could go for a nice bowl of custard!

This is the place. I used to be a regular here, but I ain't been back in a while... Let's see if they still remember me.

Start of cutscene.

Well, well, look who the wind blew in.

Monom. I've come for my steed.

That battered old scrap heap? It's been rustin' on my garage floor so long, I doubt it could manage a slow trot, let alone a gallop.

Happy to give it a tune-up if ye've credits to burn, but I'll need ye to supply some parts. A new high-voltage battery and superconductor coil at a minimum.

The chronometer's ticking. I'll see if I can't get my hands on a battery, but can I ask you to track down the coil?

These soft-boiled dopes wouldn't know a suspension spring from an anti-gravity gimbal, but you I can trust to find the right part without cracking under the pressure.

What will you say?

I'm on it, Detective.

Got my number, do you?

Just tellin' it like it is. I know a tough egg when I see one...

Hardiboiled seems desperate to get his air-wheeler up and running, so I'll give ye a tip. Ye want a coil quick-like, then salvaging the rides of defective sentries is yer best bet.

I'll even lend ye this handy gadget to help ye out. Set off the distress signal on the west side of old Alexandria, and ye'll soon have some murderous mechanical company to dismantle for parts.

I'll take these two along with me on the battery hunt. Good luck out there.

End of cutscene.

Use the distress beacon at the designated location in the ruins of old Alexandria and obtain a superconductor coil from a defective sentry.

Optional dialogue

That gizmo I gave ye will broadcast a distress signal that'll attract malfunctioning soldiers. Far as I know, some old units still wander around the west side of old Alexandria─try setting it off there.

Well? Get yer hands on a coil?

Player hands over Superconductor Coil.

Aye, that should do the trick. Now where did yer mates run off to...? Can't be that hard to find a store what sells batteries.

Ye should probably head over to the Nexus Arcade and see what's keepin' them.

Search for Hardiboiled.

Optional dialogue

Hardiboiled's takin' his sweet time buyin' a battery. Funny, he don't seem the type to window shop...

Forename. Any trouble picking up that coil? Nothing you couldn't handle, I'll wager.

As for the battery, I bought one easily enough... The problem was convincing the inspector and his gal to stick around after he “caught a whiff of tantalizing familiarity.”

Long story short, they wandered off and haven't come back. S'pose we ought to go look for them, eh?

Start of cutscene.

I-Is that a corpse? A smiling corpse?

Hah hah hah, you needn't fret, Detective. This dapper zombie is an old acquaintance of mine.

Gentle Dead Man

Allow me to introduce myself, good sir. I am a proud member of the Gentle Dead Men and disciple of Master Zombibrand.

I have been on the road, seeking out new recruits for our merry moldering band. Said search is what brought me here, and into the midst of this unexpected─yet most welcome─reunion.

I don't usually hold with necromancy, but he seems harmless enough... So, uh, if you're done catching up, we've got a case to work on.

In actual fact, our conversation was almost entirely case-adjacent! Employing his nose for festering fellows, this gentlezombie traced the stench of necromantic decay to the very facility in which I once slumbered...

Gentle Dead Man

Yes, I became fast friends with one of the reanimated researchers there. During the process of getting to know each other, he spoke briefly of the only person left alive after the “incident.”

According to my new charnel chum, all the lab workers perished when an accident resulted in the leakage of a highly toxic substance. All, that is, save for a single man who habitually wore a protective gas mask.

Keshkayi is his name. He was second-in-charge after the overseer himself, yet disdained by his peers as a “condescending know-it-all.”

They did, however, grudgingly recognize his passion for his work. Even after devoting a full day to official experiments, he would pour his remaining time and energy into some mysterious side project.

And he was the sole surviving researcher, you say? Sounds like we finally have a name for our mastermind.

Courtesy of the shambling undead, no less. No matter how many years I do this job... Well, thanks for that.

Gentle Dead Man

Glad to be of service. Now, if you'll excuse me, my new recruit and I have a café tour planned!

So, that fella was an honest-to-gods walking corpse, huh? I've met weird folks in my line of work, but do you always keep company with such oddballs...?

Ah, that was out of line. It's just...I reckon there are forces in this world you're better off not messing with.

Anyway, let me take these parts back to Monom and get my wheeler repaired.

Shouldn't take too long. I'll ride him back here to make sure he's running smoothly, and you can see the magnificent beast in all his glory.

End of cutscene.

Speak with Hildibrand.

Optional dialogue

Our gentlezombie friend was as reanimated as ever!

Detective Hardiboiled seemed somewhat nervous. Excited to reclaim his pride and joy, perhaps?

Start of cutscene.

Cor, would you look at that!

What do you think, Forename? I call him Night Stallion. He's a custom job built for yours truly, and has far too much horsepower for the average mook to handle.

Anti-gravity capabilities are standard, but when it comes to ground speed, he's been tweaked to achieve the highest possible performance. The trick is to install quick-heating motor coils.

But won't the increased heat compromise the magnetic field's integrity, you ask? While that's a valid concern, a hotter drivetrain responds completely differently when you open up the throttle and─

You. Get those filthy hands off my ride.

I merely thought to enhance your beloved steed with a touch of Salamanderville...

So you've had this amazing machine this whole time? Why haven't you been riding it until now?

Ah, so fresh-faced and innocent... The spitting image of my assistant.

Flashback begins.

Hardiboiled (narrating)

I'll never forget the day I hung up my spurs. It was right after I'd caught Carnelian...

I'd been simmering in thoughts of vengeance, fit to burst my shell at any moment.

The Big House is too good for the likes of the Crime King. See you in hell, Your Majesty...

Carnelian

Should've pulled the trigger when you had the chance. You've gone soft, Hardiboiled.

This flashback exceeds the legal length!

Laced with illicit embellishments, no doubt!

What will you say?

Stick to the facts.

Wrap it up, gumshoe.

Flashback ends.