Pawa rolled and struggled inside the Safe House, letting out a near-breaking howl from his throat. He slammed his forehead against the floor, making quite a racket.
The problem was, in times like these, people could barely clear the snow from their own doorsteps. What did anyone else's life or death have to do with them?
The neighborhood where the Safe House stood had always been overrun by the Black Gang, with all manner of shady business going on. Normally, even if one or two people died, the police could not be bothered to come. So Pawa thrashed around for quite a while without even drawing a curse from the neighbors, until he was completely exhausted and lay sprawled on the floor, breathing with difficulty.
By then, much of Pawa's flesh, skin, and tendons had split and ruptured. Some parts of him had to be supported by his cybernetic skeleton.
But no matter what, he had not died.
Pawa did not stay on the floor for long. A moment later, he struggled to his feet, found the medical kit, and injected every nutrient shot and life-support injection inside into his body. His battered, hollow shell gained a source of energy, and the New Law that had just replaced an entire bundle of his systems began to work, forming a cycle of vitality with minimal loss and maximum efficiency, ensuring that he would not completely collapse from the forced modification.
Once that step was complete, the hardest hurdle had been crossed.
Pawa sprawled flat on the floor again, his chest rising and falling with each breath.
Before long, there was a knock at the door, hesitant in rhythm.
Pawa grinned, tugging open the cracks on his face. Half-dried drops of blood finally trickled down as he remotely unlocked the door.
"Come