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/tg/ - Traditional Games


File: brouzoufquest4.jpg (24 KB, 482x250)
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>Previous threads: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive.html?tags=Brouzouf+Quest%2C+Collective+Game

>Wikia for in-universe knowledge: http://eyedivinecybermancy.wikia.com/wiki/E.Y.E:_Divine_Cybermancy_Wiki
>You have a forbidden book of thaumaturgy for dummies, Croon Sidetech plate on you
>You have a Depezador Shotgun and a scrabal unit in your room
>You have 28306 Brouzouf
>Karma: 1/???
>You have been tagged with a Federal tracking bracer.

--The perigrum is said to represent the urge to pounce forward. This is perhaps the essence of thaumaturgy; heedless of the risks, leap forward for the sake of personal, societal and specieist progress. It is then no wonder the brain of the creature is saturated with PSI energy. Applying the Alchemical Octagram technique onto its brain may therefore increase the user's cognitive capacity in matters of thaumaturgy and indeed, all matters.
>H.E. Cathe

The passage in your book of thaumaturgy fills you with apprehension and morbid curiosity alike, as you just so happen to have procured one such enhancer of all things cognitive. You try to tell yourself this was just a coincidence; that you didn't take the skull of the legged, snake-like abomination for anything other than a victory trophy.

You recognize the telltale signs of denying something you don't feel comfortable with. The skull's eyes, dead, ghost pale and fierce, stare at you in questioning defiance. You vividly imagine it challenging you to assimilate it using the alchemical spell you've never attempted before. Part of you feels daring. Part of you conjures a thousand terrible possibilities.

Which speaks louder?

>Assimilate the skull.
>Put the book down. You've read too much for one day.
>>
>>32712602
>>Assimilate the skull.
why not?

also, I won't be awake for much longer OP, hope more players join in
>>
>>32712691
>SP mode turned on in 10 minutes, defaulting to the one option.
>>
Rolled 11

>>32712787
>FIX YOUR MULTIPLAYER STREUMON!

What harm could come out of this? Well, significant harm if the complications can be half as extensive as you imagine. Alas, curiosity overpowers you twice on the same day. You sit cross-legged in front of the severed head of your would-be devourer, focusing on the spell you have never cast before in your life.

You intone the words, a string of unintelligible monosyllables that require you to start over on several occasions and re-read the book. A few times you even reach the end, verbally correct, but focusing so much on getting the damn mantra right you lose focus completely. After the tenth such attempt, you manage to clear your mind, the irritation over your failures erasing the last trace of apprehension.

You mutter the string of guttural sounds, reaching out with a hand towards the daemonic head. An octagram of light forms beneath the gruesome trophy; it dissappears, as if it never existed. You are vaguely aware of its presence still, somehow.
>>
>>32713025
For a moment, a rather long moment, you feel nothing has changed about yourself. Aside from learning an overly complicated bunch of magical gibberish that disintegrates stuff that is. Feeling dissapointed, you rise to your feet. You might as well go bask in the orange afternoon glow for all it-

Waitaminute. When was the last time Moonshine Avenue shone with anything other than blue smog on any given day? You find your pace rising sharply as your decision to go for an afternoon stroll (wasn't it morning when you got back home..?) takes on an altogether different purpose. You open the door, and you're greeted to a flash of blinding sunlight.

As your eyes ever so slowly adapt to a degree of illumination you have never experienced before, you realize your neck of the woods has become something altogether unrecognizable. Before you lies a city of black, polished, monolithical stone buildings. You can see its inhabitants, or at the very least their vague outlines. Humanoids with narrow faces and slender limbs, with complexion hard to make out. Some go about their business, others walk in a procession towards a building: a great temple, all tall towers and archways, standing oppressively above the city.

You somehow begin to remember the encounter you've had with the tunnel creatures this morning. And you recall that the temple location is in the direction of the metro station.

>Perhaps you may remember more if you follow the procession.
>You don't want to risk staying here forever... Try to get back indoors and... what?
>>
>>32713419
>Perhaps you may remember more if you follow the procession.

unfortunately its 3:30am here and I'm gonna head to sleep, I hope some more anons join in OP
>>
>>32713504
>Thanks for participating. I'll have the archive link @CaptainBrouzouf if you want to read the day's thread.
>>
>>32713419
Well, the feds are on our ass and our life is shit.
I say getting trapped here wouldn't be much worse.

>[X] Reach the temple from the other world
>>
>>32713581
>>32713504
You'd have expected to be fearful, mystified, overwhelmed by what you are experiencing. So it comes as a bit of a surprised when you feel something else, something entirely selfish. You feel resentful. Resentful over all the turns your life has taken that have landed you in the degrading condition you are in. Over the faceless, greed-driven megacorps using you and others like you as expendables for their affairs, while sucking the brouzouf out of you to fuel their own works. And even over your parents naming you an idiotic name that causes smartasses to break down in fits of laughter.

Confidently, you take a step ahead, choosing to ignore the fact your own degraded flat has remained intact while all around you has changed. You come close to the denizens, noticing they seem to ignore you. They bear vests remniscent of ancient eras of mankind, adapted to the heat of their world that you somehow do not feel. One of them walks through you, eliciting a startle. Intangible creatures...

You walk after them, taking in the surroundings. Having settled your initial feelings, you begin to take in with their city with no small amount of interest. Their markets and places of public entertainment, strangely aligned with Moonshine Avenue's own, yet offering a myriad of things that you have never seen before. You notice another thing; every other block, a minaret topped with a triangle with an eye in the center stands watch like an overseer. The creatures grow somewhat hunched as they come close to it, possibly in fear. Superstitious bunch, you assume.

[1/x]
>>
>>32713948
Stray thoughts emerge as you come closer to the pyramid. Crossing a place where some manner of armored guards, much taller than the bird-like gaunt humanoids, leer over the procession, vivid memories of hacking through undistinct aliens flash across your consciouness in a second that seems to last much longer. Further along, you stare at a snake-like being devouring its own tale, and you recall directing fell energies towards the innards of a cop, forcefully tearing apart and remaking its flesh into the semblance of a creature of the tunnels. You feel the weight of body armor, although you are wearing none.

Finally, you have reached the entrance of the pyramid temple. An individual, flanked by altogether more tangible gigantic demonic-looking beings wielding pairs of thick scimitars and grinning manically at the intangibles, stands before an opened casket. Quietly, he stares at the procession. You suddenly feel very vulnerable..

>Remain here, watch the proceedings
>Return to one of the spots where you had your visions. Which?
>>
>>32714240
Follow the path that evokes the strongest visions.
Maybe we were a knight or Duke Nukem in a former life or something!
>>
>>32714272
>writan. gonna take a bit possibly
>>
>>32714272
You decide you don't want to stare for too long at the black, cowled individual for whom so many of these creatures have gathered. In particular, you're not in any mood to stay too close to the cyclopean things you can only assume are its guards. So you slink as much as a corporeal being amidst intangibles can towards the streets. You walk along the paths, maintaining only a faint grasp on what they were in relation to the streets of Moonshine Avenue. Several twists and turns later however, you are lost. You had not realized it when you were walking in a straight line, but somehow, whenever you cut a corner, you cannot backtrack your way from whence you came. Perhaps the architecture of this place is even more alien than you expected. Perhaps you've merely gone mad.

In this fashion you tour through the buildings, for what seems like an eternity. At least until you reach a place that sticks out like a sore thumb. A metallic structure, in the shape of an unadorned chapel, with its gates open into what is a nightly ambient in spite of its surroundings. You are assaulted with a sense of dread, mingled with nostalgia. Without a reference point to head back towards, you are left with little choice than to walk towards the structure.

The world behind you ceases to exist after you walk through the gates. In a librarium filled with more books than you care to count, a cowled triclops regards you with faint disinterest. A triangular golden frame adorned with an eye hangs on a light golden chain around his neck.

[cont]
>>
POST WAS EATED FUK
>>
>>32715503
Don't worry, because I am IN. SP mode: deactivate!
>>
>>32715503
me too.
>>
>>32715503
Ouch, sorry
>>
>>32715536
>>32715552
Three players! Holy shit.
We've never had that many.
>>
>>32715673
Things are looking up! We need to get Brouzouf Quest to its double digits threads, people will really start cropping up then.

For now, I'm enjoying the disproportionate amount of influence that comes with being one of only a few players.
>>
>>32715740
Yes, that and the nice prose of OP.
>>
>>32714839
"Is it done?" The figure asks, sounding vaguely disenganged or bored. You feel your heart sink as you speak, gripping your BOSCO's stock at the limits of its resistance. "Gray Master Ivan Drago. Reporting on the outcome of Operation: Wavebreaker-"

"Is it done?" It asks again, making no effort to hide its impatience. "Yes." Your deeds in this most recent assignment flash before your eyes. You eliminated all the Special Forces cloaked in the ceilings and runways, their equipment no match for your eyes, trigger and guile. You nearly gave yourself an aneurism as you twisted the souls of soldier and civilian alike into a pack of Carnophages unleashing terror and bloodshed on the streets. You hacked the city gates, turning a fortress impregnable by land attacks into a death trap for those inside. It was, by all accounts, a perfect operation. What of its purpose, however, could you say the same? You think not. "Linuxia has been overran by the metastreumonic force. No survivors expected. My presence remained undetected throughout." The creature before you smiles gleefully. "Good. This demonstration will cause the Federation to rethink their stance towards the Secreta. They'll come begging for our aid soon enough.." The urge to scream you have suppressed since the end of the mission becomes almost unbearable as you watch the... xenos rub his hands.

"What of the scrolls beneath the city?" You hand over an adamantium case. "Retrieved amidst the chaos." The being all but yanks them out of your hand. "Dismissed." It turns away from you, staring transfixedly at the case. You do not walk out just yet, and as it sits down on the desk, to open the contents of the case, it notices your permanence. Its face twists in profound anger. "Did you get shot in your hearing receptacles? I said dismissed!"

>Leave quietly, and look for your friends.
>Confront him about the purpose of E.Y.E.
>Other
>>
>>32716051
I would vote to confront, except that it's obviously a bad moment for that.

So look for our friends.

Well, this is interesting. Seems like we exist in two layers of existence at once.
>>
>>32716051
>Confront him about the purpose of E.Y.E.
I'd vote for shooting him on the spot, but we need our head to remain firmly attached.
>>
>>32715740
>Lately I've been warming up to the notion of remaining a tiny QM. /qtg/ can be populated by.. interesting sorts. I'd rather not get dragged into all the drama and gossip
>>
>>32716110
Well, then I guess I'll stop advertising for you.
You still need a few more players, though.

I'm now offline, to level my turret in Borderlands 2.
>>
>>32716128
>I lost a player... I'm a sham of a QM..
>>
>>32716051
Confront him.
>>
>>32716254
>>32716109
>>32716100
>Retards on my end, making all updates a grind...

"My hearing is perfect." Your anger has gone beyond white hot, it's now transparent in more than one way. "We are supposed to sacrifice ourselves for E.Y.E. We give up on our bodies, on our joys, on our very souls if we must." The creature in front of you is not too impressed with your speech so far. "All for the sake of becoming Mankind's greatest tool against the Metastreumonic menace. Why are we allowing those we have sword to protect to-"

"You're the dumbest gullible fool I've ever seen in my long life." You stare at him, dumbfounded and more than a little tempted to train your gun on him. "Where do you think we get all our weapons? Our ships? Our ammunitions? We deal with the Consortium for supplies, and we deal wit the Federation for our unimpeded existance. When one deal becomes unfavorable, we take steps to retain our standing."

"That's your answer? The Secreta has allowed and conspired in the fall of whole planets for the sake of 'standing'?" He looks at you with a vaguely dissapointed look. "You've been the Mailed Fist of the Secreta for all this time and you've never realized the constant in the nature of creatures? Power is what defines what is good or bad. The ruler defines the law, and the slave obeys. This organization has existed since the very dawn of sentience, and wherever we have gone we have secured a seat of unassailable power."

[cont]
>>
>>32716883
He's actually talking to us, so perhaps he considers our anger a threat. Enough of one to bother with conversation.
>>
>>32716883
Opinions on decorating the room with his brains when he's done talking?
>>
>>32716883
>"sworn", not "sword". The botches keep on comin'...

The silence is deafening. The creature returns to his studies of the scrolls you procured. "Your sentimentalism comes remarkably late, for one dragged off the streets killing your own kin for a living. I'm surprised you never learned that lesson." You did, but you never liked it. "Dismissed."

You are a tool. You were always aware of that fact, but now it becomes a prejorative rather than a figurative statement. The years conducting missions and gradually replacing your birth flesh with synthetic replacements feel stupidly hollow, the killings you had done taste bitter. And you did many in your time. Not killings, atrocities.

You feel your cyberbrain humming inside your skull. The Deletion by Vacuity ensuring your mind remains untainted by the mind-shattering realization you have come to witness. Soon enough, the memory of these events becomes little more than a vague acknowledgement of their existance, and the profound emotions you experienced now feel merely like the disjointed chemical aftermaths of a stymulus reaction.

"Taking my leave, sir." You salute and walk out. E.Y.E. will not even allow you to grieve. You are just a tool. You try to keep that scab opened, you try to focus on the grief you experienced, but you were too well-programmed for that. Angry, not at the deeds you had done, but at the situation you are presently in, you stomp towards your bunk.
>>
>>32717269
We are in consensus. Time to give Old Man Carnegia what for.
>>
>>32717282
Shoot that fucker.
>>
>>32717269
>I'm afraid I had exposition planned for this session. We MIGHT cross that bridge eventually.

You have returned to your room. Not your HQ bunk. But the room wherein you live in Moonshine Avenue. What did you just experience? Vertigo assaults you, and you land flat on your face on your futon. Right now, you're feeling the worst hangover you have a memory of. You take a deep breath, and sit up. Whatever this was, it isn't dissapearing as your lucid dreams are wont to do. Lucid dreams... Can they really be called that? Is there even a term for memories of events in the future?

Why are you even thinking about such paradoxical possibilities?

You shake your head, immediately regretting that as your brain rattles inside your skull. And you're vaguely aware of your damn book opened at a page you never saw before. You read on a skill intended to induce Madness upon the target. Somehow you feel as if you've always known how to perform it...

>You have unlocked the Madness Psi Ability

There is one positive thing going for this psychadelic trance you've experienced. Your body has halfway healed the worst of your injuries, and the least are little more than scab wounds at this point. Perhaps you've been out longer than you think..? A look at your house terminal denies that possibility.

Well. At the end, you still have a bounty to spend. Strange events or not.

>Visit Nasty Ned's and try to secure his surgeon's services for a pair of good cybereyes
>Call Muut, see what he knows wtf Croon was doing in that forgotten control room
>Other
>>
>Sorry if today's being a bit railroady, we'll get back on track starting now...
>>
>>32717607

>Visit Nasty Ned's and try to secure his surgeon's services for a pair of good cybereyes

Good eyes, good life.
>>
>>32717607
>Your body has halfway healed the worst of your injuries, and the least are little more than scab wounds at this point.
Did we always have the ability to auto-heal the kind of gruesome injuries that we had?
Are people in the slums all Wolverine?

Anyway, time for eyes!
>>
>>32717868
Seconding.
>>
>>32718040
>No, it's something pretty unusual. Writan btw
>>
>>32718092
>>32718040
>>32717868
You look at the Croon plate you procured. After all this mess, you could use with a break from interdimensional nonsense and settle with worries befitting one of your social status. Like cop evading, drug procuring and eyeball replacing. The latter being the most pressing. Your old work acquaintance, Nasty Ned, has been running his mouth he's got the best barber surgeon in all the Avenue. His recent technophilia has manifested itself in replacing his top boys' eyeballs with what he claims to be "top'o the line shit, wigga." Knowing Ned, he won't risk his best shots going blind for nothing.

You head off, loosely trying to picture the city of the rundown intangible beings from the other dimension that all so real a while ago. One corner turn later, you realize the futility of such an act. The bright blue smog all around you does nothing to improve your mood. Neither do the tramps, armed douchebags and assorted denizens.

A mercifully short walk later, you arrive at Nasty Ned's. Outwards a shanty tavern, inwards a bunker populated by gangsters guarding an enormous fighting pit. You greet the half-drunken louts guarding the door, little more than cannon fodder working as a glorified alarm system. You're all too aware of your tracking bracer as you enter.

The tavern is merely half-full at this time of the day, and the half of that half is half-alive from a night's boozing. A buxom blonde in a serving girl's outfit greets you. "What'll it be Ivan?"

>You have to talk with Nasty Ned.
>You'll talk with Nasty Ned after a drink. 20 Brouzouf
>Other
>>
>>32718617
>You'll talk with Nasty Ned after a drink. 20 Brouzouf
Hit on her while we're at it. Just for the hell of it.
>>
>>32718784
>Gibi a 1d100 for success or spaghetti
>>
Rolled 16

>>32718839
I'm gonna put Dewwop's name on for this roll.

All or nothing!
>>
>>32718899
>>32718839

Welp. I hope you have fun writing this, Cap.
>>
>>32718919
Where's everyone gone? We were breaking records an update ago. Will start writing spaghetti I guess..
>>
>>32719017
P-please wait for somebody else to roll! I don't want to read all that spaghetti.

I just know how fun it is to write spagooti.
>>
>>32718899
>You people (or person rather) actually made me watch cringeworthy videos for inspiration. You will suffer with me.

You are blonde, she is blonde. You have something in common. She's hot, you're all too aware of your chiseled aryan look. There aren't enough people like you in the world. Her greeting smile starts to shift into something altogether more awkward and annoyed as you stare her over a bit too much. "Layla. Don't you think there are too many ugly people in this world?" The serving girl raises an eyebrow. "Yes, some of which I've cleaned the puke off this morning. Why?"

"Because I think we need to fix that." You stare at her with your best flirtatious grin, flexing your pecs for good measure. "Whaddya say, baby?" Layla offers you a vacant stare. "I'm not planning on having children anytime soon, and if I had they wouldn't be with a retarded meathead like you." A metaphorical kick in the nuts, if there ever was any. Undaunted, you do not give up, and grab a hold of 20 brouzouf. "Don't be like that, dear. Here, have some money and bring me a beer." You put the bill in her rack.

A sharp pain in your groin is all you get for an answer. You struggle to stay up, and are dragged roughly by the serving girl you so skillfully wooed towards a stool at the bar. "Damn it, Ivan. I told you to cut that out." You can't remember, actually. You're recovering from the pain. Professional that she is, a beer jug finds its way to your vicinity.

"I need to speak with Ned..." You groan out. She nods. "Drink up and I'll call him once you're fit for purpose." You take short sips at first, coping with the pain you experienced. It could be worse, she didn't try to destroy your nuts.

A good few minutes pass before you're "ready" to face Ned. You don't actually ahve to call out for him; he spots you just as he emerges from his underground lair. The cheers of a crowd behind him. No doubt cheering the end of a fight. [cont]
>>
I'm here!
Just got in, didn't notice the twitter update.
>>
>>32719614
"Ivan, my boy." He slaps you in your exposed arms with a bit more vehemence than what can be considered affectionate. All of this is why you don't like coming here outside of business. And that last one is not even an adquired taste. "What can Ned do for ya. I know a few things you could do for me."

"Not on business today Ned. Need some of your eyeballs, since your last surgeon fit me with those crappy ones you bought on a discount at the flea market." And he even made you job for Meatsack Mo on a gauntlet fight for that hack job. "Yeah? You got the brouzouf for it?" His 'friendly' demeanor turns all the more sour. Crunchy bastard always gets jealous when you're working for someone that isn't him.

"Yeah. Check my account. I'll wire it for you." He stares at you fixedly, at which you stare back. Right now you don't want to break eye contact and have him notice your tracer. Things might get nasty. "Heh." He smiles his yellow smile. "Alright kid, since I like you I'll even thrown in an offer. See, the eyes I've been getting from.. business associates come with a nifty little thing called Confirmex. Basically that shit confirms kills so long as you're staring at a dead fucker." Oh boy, what does he want you to do...? "So, I'll charge half if you can kill me some cops that have been snooping around here and their mangy mutt of a snitch by the end of the week. Ten thousand brouzouf for eyes if you agree."

>Take the deal, Brouzouf unspent is like brouzouf gained. Sort of.
>You can't really handle the heat right now. 20K Brouzouf it is.
>>
>>32719885
>You can't really handle the heat right now. 20K Brouzouf it is.
Bad idea.
Tracker says no.
>>
>>32719885
Shit, I can't decide.

I'll err on the side of "No." for this vote. We've got the Brouzouf for it.
>>
>>32719923
>>32720033
Oh boy. Ned's not gonna like this. "Sorry Ned. I need to lay low for a while. Ran into some shit."

"That why you're wearing that tracer?" His scowl could probably turn the most horrifying night horror into a whimpering mess. "Yeah.." Better not play smart with him right now. "Fucking shit, Ivan. That's why I tell you to stop fucking around with that HitFinder crap Muut keeps running his gabber about. All that shit does is make you a wanted bugger." The sheer hypocrisy of that statement is almost enought to ruin your deal with Ned. Almost.

"Look, I'll transfer the money now. You pop me a new pair of eyeballs, and I'll handle that shit after all this blows over."

"By the time that happens I could be the one blown over."

"Well, I'm a retarded meathead, so I might as well not muck things up for you." You're being too modest of course. Your retardation and steakbrain only extend to waitress flirtation. Ned sighs dissapointedly and motions you to follow. "Let's go to the backyard. Cleaner there."

Cleaner is of course a generous statement. The clinic at the back of Nasty Ned's is a butcherhouse of a garage, with blood stains almost as old as the building. Oftimes used for torturing captured rvals, right now it serves primarily as a surgery room. A wiry asiatic doctor sits in a corner, shivering. "Doctor Wang, fit this kid with a new pair of eyes." You doubt the man's name really is "Wang".

The whole process is rather uneventful. You're sedated, for a change not being assailed by the dreams that so often have come with the loss of conscience. You awaken, not to the excessively familiar shorting of circuits in your eye sockets, but a prompt in your eyes. A menu screen?

Doctor "Wang" explains the Confirmex as such: some individuals have vested interests in having individuals of given organizations killed.
>>
>>32720495
I see, so a more comprehensive hitlist, that doesn't involve going through Muut?
>>
>>32720554
>You might have more luck getting info if you actually take the job. This is primarily for riff-raff extermination becoming profitable
>>32720495
>FUK DA CAPTCHA ULTRAFAILED BULLSHIT

The Confirmex is the next step in the hitman business, providing immediate bounty prizes for kills performed unto the members of a rival organization. The catch being, whomever goes on profitable killing sprees will receive zero backup from the paying "customers".

>You may now gain brouzouf from killing off mooks.
>You are now 8286 Brouzouf rich

You have some time to ponder about life as you wait for the sedatives to wear off. What activities might be worth your time?

>See if there's any other job Ned needs some help with. Preferably involving other than Feds.
>Hit the cyberspace and go check out the story of this planet, Croon's activities, etc.
>Grab your shotgun and see if you can return to the scene of the "crime".
>Other
>>
>>32720711
>Other
Just lay low for a while, until the tracker's off
>>
>>32720711
>See if there's any other job Ned needs some help with. Preferably involving other than Feds.
>>
Rolled 2

>>32720758 1
>>32720762 2
Tie breaking
>>
>>32720935
Fuck yeah!
>>
>>32720935
Damn it.
>>
>>32721039
>>32721077
>Tired and dealt with soul-draining retards again... This is going to be the last update for tonight. Thanks for sticking around.

Youre hauled up from your surgery chair as soon as you are capable. Testament to the good doctor's skill, you feel only an ounce of discomfort after what is a delicate procedure involving delicate nerves. That or you're just used to the old eyeballs. Feeling some amount of misbegotten guilt, you go back to meet Ned.

"Th'fuck you want..?" It's afternoon, and he's already shitfaced. Does the man sleep at all? "Ned, buddy... I can't help you with the cops, but I can help with not-cops. Got any business for me in not-cop handling?"

He gives you a once over, and fetches under his desk table for a file case. He tosses it at you. "There's some freaks that have been slinking their way through the old tunnels into our turf. Bastards call themselves the Trip-n-Fall Indians."

You knew you've seen those disgustingly mismatched ethnic haircuts somewhere.
>>
>>32721330
>And that's a wrap. Thanks for playing again. Follow @CaptainBrouzouf for assorted quest paraphernalia if you haven't yet.
>>
>>32721365
Excellent thread, Cap. Keep up the good work.
>>
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>>32712602
Can I gain Brouzouf in this thread?


I love you /tg/

I hope they make a more badass sequel after Deathwing.
>>
>>32712602

Did you guys knew that the Uzi sound clip, in the game is the exact same one from the submachinegun that stealth coat dude in GITS fires.

Pretty neat.



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