World-

I don’t know how 1159 did it- writing every day. My fists are sore and my head is ringing, and all I want to do is go to sleep. But I’ll give everybody an update, cause I’m proud of today’s… activities.

Based on the information I beat out of the vamp parasite cowboy Pistol yesterday, I tracked a warehouse where 1159 may have been kept. The Eye warned me to wait til after the holidays, in case I ran afoul of any robot shenanigans, but I don’t usually listen to good advice, and I wasn’t about to start then. Turns out the facility was a robot shipping depot, ferrying parts and programs into and out of Japan (which apparently violates some kind of Ministry bylaws, but I’ll let the Eye clarify that at a later date, my heads pounding too hard to get the details straight). It makes sense too, because 1159’s trail has gone completely cold. Which means he very well may have been packaged and delivered across the pacific.

Anyways, I butted heads with beings made of metal until it became clear that nothing there was going to help in my search one way or another. They didn’t seem to know anything, and their records weren’t reveling about their deliveries.  Also- robots aren’t nearly as fun to punch as vampires, I can tell you. But now I have to figure out how we’re gonna find 1159 if he’s got his ass packed up and shipped to the robot-happy land of Japan.  Which I’m glad to let Eye do while I pick shards of steel out of my paws.

-Marksman

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