Meanwhile, in a dark place...
"Have I done a good job, boss?" Samba asked his operator through his P.E.T. unit.
"'Course you did. Couldn't have done it better myself...if I was a net navi that is." The shady man told him.
"...Shall we contact our boss, boss?"
"Yep."
The man turned on an old computer monitor. From the screen appeared a fuzy image of a musical sign.
"...Ugh, it's you Mr.Samson. What do you want now?" Said a distorted high voice.
"Well...you know that thing you always wanted?" Samson asked him in a calm tone.
"A better operative? Because if you have, you can leave now and never cotact me through this signal ever again."
"Uh...well"
"Or better yet, just leave me your pile of scrap data you people call a navi. It is more competent than yourself, and it can handle himself well in a cyber fight withouth your help too."
Samson did nothing but stare at the screen with a dull expresion.
"DAH! Do not speak to my boss in such a way!" Samba shouted within the confines of his P.E.T.
"...Your tool seems to believe its human, Mr.Samson. Plese shut him up before I'm forced to do it myself." The voice threathend
"H-How dare you!"
"Samba...shut up." Samson ordered his navi.
"...Very well boss"
Samson swallowed a bit of his own saliva before continuing the conversation with his leader.
"I-I got that chip, sir."
"...Are you serious, Mr.Samson. That thing is nothing but a myth created by techno loving fools."
"B-But it's true. I got right here." Samson showed the dangerous chip to the screen.
"...Transfer the data to me."
Samson had smile on his face.
"Y-Yes, sir!" He said as he was transferring the chip's data.
"...Where did you get this?" Asked the voice.
"The public cyber market. I was gonna check the Undernet...but we thought that was too obvious." Samson said, still using a calm tone.
"...We?"
"Yeah, me and Samba. You see-"
"When are you going to stop thinking those toys of yours are people. Then again, that thing IS much more reliable then you."
Samson's smile slowly faded.
"Now then. Let me tell you what you have done wrong." The voice said in scorn.
"1. You have failed to get the original chip, and have given me a mere copy.
2. You probably let your face be seen by the trader (or some other third party), and have not deleted that person's navi.
3. Contacting this line withouth making sure it wasn't being traced. You incompetent neanthertal."
"B-b-but."
"You're lucky we have a strong defensive program or else I'd be really angry...however, seeing as this still is the data for THAT program, I guess I should be glad you of all people brought this to me." The voice said calmly.
"R-Really?"
"Don't get too happy yet, Mr.Samson. We still have much work to do. Transfer the data to Mr.Soul, and start configuring the data that you already have."
"Y-Yes, sir!" Samson replied.
"In the meantime, have your tool see where this trader's navi is residing. We need the original data for our plans to suceed, understand?"
"Yes."
With that, the screen turned off by itself. Samson laid down on a nearby couch and stared at the ceiling. He started to scratch his left arm while he grinded his teeth.
"Boss, why must you take such harsh words from him?" Samba asked his disturbed operator.
Samson refused to respond.
"...Would I suggest you have some herbal tea, boss?".
"...Uh-huh, that'll help..."