The underground city of New Melbourne featured docks that always stunk of mudfish. Dirk hated the smell almost as much as he hated the taste of the hideous fish itself. Slimy and somehow coarse at the same time, as if you were eating the sand in the ocean itself. In the few instances he’d been forced to try it, Dirk had been reminded of that time his father took him cod fishing, back before the Collapse. Cod was unpleasant, but compared to mudfish, it seemed a nobleman’s finest delicacy.
He wrinkled his nose as he continued along the docks, wishing this client had chosen a more… refined place to establish their business. But alas, here he was, almost feeling like he needed to vomit into the muddy, underground lake. At least it wouldn’t be any more disgusting if he did.
When he’d decided to start life anew in the underground, he’d expected to be working exclusively in the heart of New Melbourne. Unfortunately, many of his clients hailed from the outskirts of the city or even the uninspiringly named towns surrounding it.
Office design near Melbourne had been a lucrative business, or so he’d heard, in the old surface-dwelling days. Now, however, it barely gave people in the industry enough coin to get by. Still, the job had other perks, at least. Those certainly hadn’t existed pre-Collapse.
Although he was tempted to sigh as he spotted the stairs to his target, Dirk held back, knowing it would only lead to a stronger stench of mudfish in his nostrils. A pink neon sign out the front advertised the business: Fishmonger’s Accounts. A small business of accountants for the dockside workers, who currently needed some new ideas for office fitouts. Melbourne businesses were only as good as their offices, as Dirk had been told many times for some unknown reason, so it made sense that they needed a fresh coat of paint, so to speak.
Climbing the stairs, Dirk cracked his knuckles, ready for whatever abomination awaited him inside.