Only a few seconds into the service bot's lengthy explanations regarding the wide range of features available for this section of phones that should qualify for Lucas's needs, Lucas's eyes have glazed over. Jonathan has been diligently listening, nodding along occasionally as he keeps playing with a different pair of phones after about a minute of testing each.

'Duuuude, he might as well be speaking another language. I haven't learned shit about technology here. Oh, I know what waterproof means, at least.'

[…]

"-Ultimately, any of the models in this display over here should be sufficient for your needs, provided they are protected by one of the multiple nanogel-filled case options available. The one-millimeter case is sufficient for slash and bullet resistance. The two-millimeter model is slash and bullet-proof. And finally, the three-millimeter version is capable of handling the impact of a grade three super-enhanced strength individual's strike." As the service bot continues droning on, Lucas's state of barely paying any attention does actually manage to hear the last line, and it catches his attention.

'Hey, is the grading system they use the same? If not, what am I?'

[It's a different system, based on natural development, mixed with some degree of intense exercise. You would count as approximately a grade two as it stands right now.]

'Oooh, sweet.'

"Hey, can I test-throw something with a three-millimeter case on it? Oh, Jon, you pick out whatever you like, I'll just get the same thing, I don't particularly care any which way." As Lucas asks the service bot his request, it promptly goes to open a drawer and takes out a small box, and then claims one of the test models Jonathan has just finished playing with.

"Of course, sir." Going over to a clear stretch of counter space, it opens up the box and pulls out a clear phone case that looks like it was made out of a flattened-out water wiggler toy. The corner seams are reinforced with hard black metal, forcing it to keep its shape as well as protecting where the gel isn't sufficiently present.

As the service bot mounts the case onto the phone, Jonathan continues his testing process with a borderline comical look of concentration.

Willy has changed his focus from the Black Ash Snow chew toy onto the false idol Josephine, faux Mind Flare can only continue his fear-stricken vigil.

Once the case is securely in place, the service bot heads back over to hand the now-protected phone over to Lucas.

"May I suggest throwing it outside, sir?" As it humbly hands over the soon-to-be-projectile to the widely-grinning Lucas, Jonathan's attention is pulled back away from the fresh batch of phones in his hands. After setting them back down on the display he took them from, he heads to the entryway so as to see the upcoming action.

Willy gathers the three legally distinct dolls and heads over as well. Mind Flare is spared a chewing session, for now at least.

"Heh, I was planning on it, check this out." Now that Lucas has the cell phone in his hands, he can't help squishing the gel of the case a few times. And a few times more. Now, it's more like he's just constantly kneading it.

[...You can really be easily amused at times.]

'It's so squishyyy!'

[…]

Armed and dangerous, Lucas steps out of the glass doors while rolling his right shoulder a few times. Once he is out on the sidewalk in front of the store with the service bot, Jonathan and Willy in attendance just behind him, he takes on a facsimile of a standard baseball pitching stance.

Lucas is fully intending on throwing the phone at an upward angle, aiming for a few floors up on the building on the other side of the four lanes of traffic, two shoulders filled with parked cars, and a sidewalk with scattered groups of random pedestrians. However, he doesn't release at quite the right time after his windup, throwing it almost perfectly straight across the road.

If it had been his intention, then it would have probably been the best throw of any of his lives.

'Oh fuck-'

Panic starts setting in as soon as he realizes the trajectory, and Jonathan draws in a sharp breath behind him.

427, as supportive as always, makes a sound akin to a snort of laughter when Lucas starts panicking.

The gel-coated electronic-filled missile soars over a lowered sports car and through the open window of a taxi, just in front of the driver's nose, and sails out of the passenger-side window, sending out an explosion of glass out onto the pavement in front of another oncoming taxi. The second taxi manages to veer into the lane directly behind the damaged first one, honking at it repeatedly while intimately riding its rear bumper in order to express its driver's displeasure.

Launching through a single window did very little to impact the airborne phone as it continues its trajectory between the gap of two parked cars towards the opposite sidewalk. While the phone had originally been traveling aerodynamically with an edge outwards, the one thing the taxi window had at least accomplished was causing it to start to rotate.

"OH FUCK, WATCH OUT!" Lucas starts yelling as soon as he realizes the exact trajectory, right towards a man that had stopped walking to look in the direction of the sound of exploding glass nearby.

Thanks to the speed at which it was traveling, there is no time for the unfortunate man to make any further reaction beyond his pupils beginning to dilate as his eyes widen.

By the time it has impacted the space between his eyes, it had rotated enough to drive itself into his face at an angle instead of straight-on, but the sheer force behind the malicious mobile missile is enough to compensate for the flawed collision.

As it drives into his skull, the sudden pressure causes his eyes to begin to pop outwards from their sockets as the contents of his skull scramble to try to evacuate the path of the assailing phone.

While the murderous mobile buries itself in his skull, the force causes his neck to sharply bend backward and his whole body is shoved a small distance before starting to fall back. After just a brief moment of this falling motion, the neck is finally completely severed and the skull-encased phone continues its journey towards the wall. The now-headless body is left to collapse heavily onto the sidewalk, spraying out a steady flow of blood.

With its change in trajectory thanks to the twisting of his spinal column cracking in reverse up until the moment it was fully severed, the phone-filled head crashes into the wall at a downward angle, about two feet lower than its original path was headed.

A small crater is smashed into the brick wall, the cushioning skull lodged in place for a brief moment before slowly sliding down onto the sidewalk and rolling over onto its side. The phone is slightly poking out of the back of it, completely undamaged.

427 now displays his support with the longest whistle he's given yet.

[Well, we know the case works. A negative value of .05 GDV has been applied for an unnecessary murder, it is a reduced penalty, however, as it was not intentional.]

'Are you fucking kidding me? That's the response you have to what I just did? And that guy's life was only worth .05 GDV!?'

[...I know as well as you do that it was unintentional. You don't need me to tell you that it was reckless behavior.]

'What the fuck!? You've gotten way madder at me for lesser things before, that was just some random innocent person I just fucking killed?'

[You could probably count on one hand the number of innocent humans in this entire world. Boss System would have assigned its own additional penalties if there were cause to.]

'Dude, you're way too calm about this!?'

[…That could have gone so much worse, that was probably the best result you could have gotten apart from only causing exclusively property damage. If you had taken out that initial taxi driver, for instance, his car would have certainly caused a multi-car pileup.]

'...Fuck. Why didn't you try to stop me?'

[If you had actually thrown it the way you meant to, it would have been fine. I'm fairly confident you do not need further reminders regarding the fact that you need to work on your throwing skills after this.]

'Fuckin' hell...'

"Excellent throw, sir. Shall I go retrieve the device for you?" As the service bot gives its commendation, Jonathan snaps out of his wide-eyed, slack-jawed reverie.

With a sudden gust of wind and a winding blur traveling between the still-moving traffic, a moment later Jonathan has returned with the bloody phone in his hands, a few bits of brain matter still stuck to the surface. The slowest moment in his movements was when he stopped to dislodge the phone from the skull casing.

"Oh, uh, um, here." As Jonathan hands the phone over to the waiting service bot, it bows slightly to him. Jonathan flicks his wrist twice to knock off the lingering blood and brain matter that was stuck to his hand, then reaches into a pocket and pulls out a napkin to repeatedly wipe his hands clean.

-----

Lucas kills this chapter: 1

Lucas total kills: 7

Lucas deaths this chapter: 0

Lucas total deaths: 10

Lucas current GDV: 8.75 (-.05 net change)

Lucas's fame level: 2.5* (Mostly just local)

Lucas's hero suspicion level: 1* (Only highly paranoid people)

Jonathan kills this chapter: 0

Jonathan total kills: 5

Jonathan deaths this chapter: 0

Jonathan total deaths: 2

Jonathan current GDV: 1.91 (+.01 net change)

Jonathan's fame level: 1.75* (Just local)

Jonathan's hero suspicion level: 1* (Only highly paranoid people)

-----

Little character theater:

Jonathan, continuing to vigorously wipe his hands with the napkin: That's one way of establishing ourselves as villains...

Lucas, somehow now more upset at 427 than he is at himself: Dude, seriously, since when were you the type to not point out what a bad idea that was!?

Willy is completely unaware of the fact that that was an accident and is a bit impressed.

427, mildly annoyed: [So now you WANT me to point out what an idiot you are?]

Author, lighting a small candle: RIP random passerby that I didn't even bother giving a visual description for.

Mr. Quacks, mildly concerned with how much Jonathan is rubbing his hands: Quack..?