"Right." Junkrat brought a hand to his chin in thought. "Talk. About the deal. About you getting a cut of whatever I make off of this fusion core."

He had to think wisely on this. He still wasn't sure whether or not he could trust Roadhog completely. Give the big guy too much of a cut, and he'd use that money against him. Offer too little, and it'd probably wind up with the grave of an ex-Junker planted right beside this very Boab tree.

"How about uh, sixty-five to thirty-five split? I get sixty-five percent of the cut. You get thirty-five. It is [i]my[/i] fusion core after all. I could have easily just taken it and sold it off and kept the riches for myself, but I'm being nice. Generous even!" He pat the ground over the fusion core. "This baby was no easy find, let me tell you."

It's true, it'd taken a hell of a lot of effort to scrounge that shiny little orb out of the radioactive pit it's been stuck in. The old omnium factory, the one that had blown sky high, was full of valuable materials. But the radiation there was so dangerous hardly anyone bothered.

Well, anyone but Junkrat. He really didn't give a rat's ass if he'd lived or died prior to finding the fusion core. Not like cancer would kill him right away anyways, right? So he'd gone through the rubble with a few fellow Junkers who didn't have a care for their health, and he'd eventually plucked the core from a heap of scrap metal. And subsequently killed the other Junkers, before running like a madman away from the factory.

Having absorbed a more acute dose of radiation than the typical amount received just from being in the Outback itself, his body generally felt like shit for a few weeks. It'd been miserable. He'd spent most of his time hiding in whatever shelter he could, trying to keep food down and get rest. He'd lost some hair, and weight off his already skinny body by the time he started to feel normal again. Well, as normal as one could feel after self-inflicted radiation poisoning.