The Gold of the Firepines

Mailman Meets The Administrator

"You're-!"
"Yes, I know exactly who I am." The ominous lady said, staying perfectly where she was, face still covered. "I am The Administrator, and you are a thorn in my side."

Well, that was one way to put it...not the most considerate way.
You were still hyped up on Australium. In the worst case, you could absolutely take her...but fighting this lady? Felt unfair, really. To her, not you; though, who knows, maybe she was hiding something up her sleeve- she likely was, she is The Administrator: aka, the head honcho, the one running this joint, the mastermind herself-

You had to ask the million-dollar question:
"What do you want with me?"

There was a scoff that rose from her wrinkled throat. "What I want from you? Nothing, really. I want nothing to do with you, and I want you to have nothing to do with my mercenaries. Yet here you are; successfully wedging your way into our business...and it seems you won't stay dead despite their efforts."

"Your efforts!" You found yourself snapping back. "Not theirs- they aren't the ones trying to kill me for delivering mail!"
That was debatable, yeah. They were trying to kill you in the very beginning for just that reason, but dodging bullets, bombs, and bats thrown about without major intention before they knew who you were was significantly different from getting drugged, dropped off in the middle of nowhere, and left to die with intention. You could forgive them...you already had. Ms. Pauling, that's a different story. Still her fault, as you saw it. But you knew deep down that even she was just following orders from this old bat.

And there was the laughter. A biter, mocking one.
"You sincerely think this is about you delivering the mail? Absolutely not. You could have continued playing your mock-olympic sprinting game, avoiding all of the deadly obstacles for as long as you desired...or until you were blown up. This is not about that, no. This is about their attachment to you."

"Yeah, I know." You said rolling your eyes (even if the mocking laugh did make you feel a tad insecure, you couldn't show that). "Figured that out on my own. I was stating that how I did to show how petty you're being." Yup, that was your intention.

She gave a hum, and then took a step forward...at least it looked like she was going to at first; it made you tense. There was a teasing moment where you thought you would see her face, but it seemed she was just shifting on her feet to disperse weight, face remaining just out of sight.
Even though you were confident you would be fine, something about her air was so...dark? Mysterious in a shit-will-hit-the-fan kind of way. She could pull a gun on you and shoot and, feeling how you were, you could probably take it...still, fight or flight was on high from every little movement. You were hyper aware.

So hyper aware of visuals you just about missed vocals-
"So you're claiming to know this? You understand? Excellent. Spares me the breath. Though, I still feel you don't get it...and what I feel is what I know." She placed a hand on the counter beside her. "Had you just stayed some lowly mad-minded townsperson, I wouldn't bother with this. All of this you've surprisingly endured was not about your relationship with them, but their relationship with you. There is a difference, and that is what I know you're not grasping."
"The more people they latch to—attachments created outside of their lives—the less efficiently they will work...the more compassion and empathy they will develop. Perhaps these are necessary skills in some cases, but for mercenaries on a battlefield, this will limit their abilities as 'killing machines,' if you would like to put it as such."

Well that confirmed it if nothing else up to this point had: illegal activities.
Even with that said: "They're not killing machines." You said, a bit softer than what you had thought, so you cleared your throat. "They're not machines at all. They're people. People need interactions outside or they're going to be driven mad." You thought that was a pretty obvious thing.